I found a sick young pigeon when I was in Iraq and I nursed it back to health and it became my buddy. It would ride on my shoulder and I taught it to fly by sort of gently tossing it like a football. It would fly in a huge circle and land back on my shoulder. I had to carry a handkerchief on my shoulder because he pooped a lot. I named him Bam after Bam Margera and because he went “bam” against the back of a humvee during his first flight attempt. A lot of officers and sergeants were pissed off about me having this bird even though I kept him outside in a shaded area and he wasn’t hurting anyone. One day I found him dead where someone had stomped on him. His guts were out of his body and he was completely smashed. Some cowardly fucking psycho murdered Bam out of spite and didn’t have the balls to confess to it. He’s buried in the desert just outside of Ballad, Iraq. I had to be stoic about it because I wasn’t going to let them have the satisfaction of seeing how bad it hurt me. But my heart is still broken. It was never going to end well because I eventually had to leave and wouldn’t have been able to take him home. But it didn’t have to end like that.
Edit: Wow. Thank you everyone for all of your kind words and the stories you’re sharing. I hadn’t thought about this in such a long time. It was such a rough time in my life as it was. This was in Iraq in 2003 right after the initial invasion and I was basically still a kid. Not even old enough to drink. I had two friends die in a helicopter crash, and ended up losing a friend to a mortar round and my best friend by suicide. It was such a traumatic part of my life that this got kind of buried in there. I never cried because I was so numb as it was and refused to show emotion to others for it. But now after talking about it with strangers and hearing all over your stories I’m in my car all teared up for the first time more than 20 years later. It feels good to get some of that out. Thank you all again for being so empathetic. Love to you all.
Not to be woe as me, and for sure plenty of other people have gone through worse, but I went through a lot of traumatic experiences when I was younger, that I never dealt with, that as I’m getting into my mid 20’s I realize have affected me a grave deal. Relatively sure I have depression but I’ve got bigger fish to fry
Being bullied as a kid and always the friend no one liked and was talked about behind my back. Never got over it and have had low self esteem my entire life because of it. Always feel ugly and “unfun” to be around.
Trust issues. I’ve had horrible trust issues since I was a child after my dad left our family. It’s gotten better, but I still find it very hard to trust people whether or not they are my friend.
If you are asking anyone over 40, they all know that you never fully heal from ANYTHING. That ankle sprain in your 20s? Yeah, that’s a problem now. That bit of carpal tunnel syndrome that went away? No, no it didn’t. Back injuries are for life.
Due to an accident, some bones in my body got broken, like in my hands and my toes, I didn’t tell anyone and lived with it. Whenever someone asks me if I am okay I was like “yeah cool, like a fish in a pool” (inner screaming)
I starved myself when I was getting bullied at work, got pregnant with a little child who only lived for a few short moments after being born, and then found out a nutrient deficiency may have caused what happened to her.
Dad left when I was 5. He kept promising to come back, so I spent years waiting, checking the mail box three times a day (knowing full well the mail gets only delivered in the morning, but I was desperate), and then my mother met this guy.
I hated his guts for obvious reasons, but he was genuinely nice. They had another kid together a few months in.
A year later on a trip to ikea while we were sitting in a car, something just clicked inside my head though. I was looking at him laughing with my mom, and still remember having this long thought process. That my father is never going to come back (went entirely radio silent after my mom got pregnant), but this guy is here. I have a new family. Everything is going to be okay.
I asked him right then if I can call him “dad”.
He died the next day in a freak work accident. I was 9, and haven’t been okay since.
I don’t talk about it mostly because my sibling was the one dotted on.
FInding my neighbor dead by accident. It was a home well check that resulted in him being dead for a week and nobody noticed until me and my roommate noticed. It happened almost 10 years ago and I have never fully healed from it.
When my sister and I were in Preschool, age 4ish, I was kidnapped by my biological mother. She was forced by LE & my father to return me 4 days later.
This was not her attempt to have me all to herself, & spoil me.
Her plan was to murder me for being born and ruining her perfect marriage to my father and sister.
I was always reminded by her that I was a mistake and how much she hated me.
When I was brought home I was in a State of shock and remained silent and emotionless for al.ost a year. My stepmother said I was like in a coma but awake.
DM for the rest ..
Aloha, K
I grew up without a dad, he passed 20 days before I was born. I’m the youngest of 4. It’s weird, it isn’t something that really happened to me and it’s been years, I’m an adult now. But seeing people with their dads and being able to see others parents be together and do normal every day stuff still stings. I find myself watching dads with their daughters like a creeper all the time, trying to imagine what it feels like. Imagining what my life and I would be like with that support to lean back on.
I don’t think we realise how much we take for granted until we don’t have it.
My dad having a longterm affair and treating my mom like crap. They divorced when I was 18 and he married his affair partner. I’m 45 now, my mom and dad both died this year. We found letters in our mom’s stuff that gave more details and really compounded the hurt from years ago. Probably need to go back to therapy, especially since I’m now going through my own divorce. 2025 is the worst.
My daughter needing multiple invasive and highly dangerous surgeries for both liver disease and a brain tumor. Somehow she is outwardly totally fine, and every time I look at her I think I must be in some kind of insane fake dream world and in reality she is gone and I’m just living in a fantasy where she’s alive.
Not the kind that announces itself. Mine is quiet; settled like a heavy fog that never lifts. I try to mask it, both consciously and unconsciously, suppressing the obvious traits. Most days, you’d never notice. I laugh, I respond, I function. But there’s a shadow to everything I do; faint, but always present. It stays tucked into the corners of my mind like clutter I keep telling myself I’ll deal with later.
When the spiral hits, like it has been lately, it becomes harder to manage. It leaks through in the form of irritability, impatience, and this strange compulsion to stay busy. Maybe that’s not all that different from how I normally am. Honestly, as I form and navigate new relationships, it’s getting harder to tell what’s me and what’s the depression.
The thing is, I usually enjoy stillness. There’s something sacred about sitting with nothing but your thoughts. But when I’m in this state? Stillness becomes unbearable. The silence turns hostile. It’s exhausting to constantly fight thoughts you don’t want to exist.
I don’t blame people for not noticing. Or for not wanting to. Depression is heavy, and no one wants to imagine someone they love quietly carrying something so dark. And I don’t show the signs people are taught to look for. I don’t self-harm. I don’t act out or do anything reckless to raise alarms. So, on the surface, there’s nothing to “worry” about.
Still, I like to believe the people around me are doing the best they can; grappling with something they don’t fully understand, wishing they could help but not knowing how. The truth is, they can’t help. I wouldn’t let them.
I’ve built myself into someone who doesn’t ask for anything. Someone who moves her own mountains because the people who should’ve helped me a long time ago didn’t. Or, grace be given, couldn’t. And now, the people who do want to help are faced with impossible standards I had to create in order to survive.
I am hyper-independent to a fault. If something needs lifting, I lift it. If I’m hurt, I patch myself up. If I need a hospital, I drive myself there. That’s how I cope. The way I carry myself, strong and composed and unbothered, is the only thing that’s ever truly protected me.
I often tell others I’m just feeling anxious or under the weather. I think, at my core, I’m meant to be happy. A ray of sunshine. But there’s an impenetrable bubble around that part of me.
Still, I try to play the part in my day-to-day life—for appearances, yes, but also to prove to myself that even if I can’t heal, I can still make the most of life while it’s here. And I’ll be here for the long haul. Whether that’s absurdism or just acceptance, I’m not sure. All I know is we only get one, and it’s over faster than it feels. I’ll ride it out.
When I was very young my parents got a Doberman named Greta for a family pet. It quickly grew into being my dog. We were inseparable. My parents didn’t like it when I snuck her into my room to sleep so often I would go sleep on the floor with her by the front door. One day shortly after my 7th birthday I came home from school and Greta was gone. My parents had given her away. I still remember running to my room and just staring out my window hoping it wasn’t real. I was told I didn’t speak for days after that. That was 42 years ago. My parents are dead, and they never could give me a reason why they gave my dog away. So I will never know. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
Besides all the serious shit – I also still heal from the embarrassment caused by my terrible smalltalk at the supermarket.
It was 6pm and the cashier was tired, he told me he has another 2 hours to go for his shift and said how much he is looking forward to the end of his shift. And me being my sarcastic little self, I said ‘I can’t imagine’. He misunderstood and took offence and said ‘what? You can’t imagine to do this job?’. I desperately tried to clarify it.
And I still feel embarrassed.
I accidentally ran over a squirrel 30 yrs ago. It’s the only animal I have killed. I can still remember the way it looked in my rear view mirror like I am looking at it right now.
That I have no memories of my father and most of my life until about the age of 10. I can remember all the abuse that happened from that age on. This has caused many unhealed emotional wounds. I live in a state of constant anxiety. Meds don’t do much even the good stuff. The only thing that helps is smoking Marijuana when the anxiety is really bad. I look at what I am assuming are normal families and I want that so badly. Be able to be that guy with my twins and there mother.
The first guy that I ever loved passed away. He was my first love and we broke up years ago. He got married & then divorced. We reconnected and instantly knew that the love never left. But I was living in another state at the time and he was still dealing with ex wife issues. He had a massive heart attack in the shower one morning. He was gone. He was only 33 years old. My entire heart broke into a million pieces. It’s been a few years and still not healed fully. I never told my parents or anyone that we had reconnected before he passed. 💔
My dad drunk driving us as kids. I was about 14-15 and can remember all of it. It was late at night coming home from Christmas dinner at a family members house. He was swerving all over the freeway and we almost crashed multiple times. My mom nor he ever addressed it afterwards. Now that I have a kid of my own it’s something I don’t think I can ever forgive.
The constant bullying when I was in jr high. Got it from my classmates, my brother, and my dad. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I didn’t get bullied. I still have severe issues because of it.
My high school was inside of a college campus, they prepared the students to get in there specifically. I was undiagnosed at the time, but i’ve got the autistic + epilepsy combo, high school was awful and i was suffering. My only scape was animating videos of my characters for YouTube.
Met this animation teacher from the film course and we clicked instantly. I was 14 (2014) and he took me as one of his own, let me participate in classes and always supported me, he was just euphoric about It and was my biggest supporter. At the time he already had a type of cancer for a while, but nothing severe.
In my last year of high school he announced they were going to open the university’s first animation course and he’d be the course coordinator. I couldn’t be happier, It was fate. My parents wanted me to go for graphic design bc It has better job opportunities, mentioned that to him and he said It would be a pleasure to have a meeting with my parents and that he wouldn’t let them leave until i was allowed to be on that course.
Said and done, did all the entrance exams and passed. These were the years, studying and doing what i loved the most with The Icon Himself. Sadly i got very ill and depressed during the first years, was in and out of the hospital every week and not paying lots of attention to the classes, but allllways greeting eachother and always telling him “cannot wait for you to hand me my diploma”. He was in and out of the hospital as well, the cancer never really receeded but nothing severe. At least that’s what he made it look like.
It’s 2020, we’re working on our thesis film and he was hyper about helping me find a job in a few studios. The pandemic hits. A few months later my friend calls and tells me one of our teachers told her he was probably on his last week, that he never got out of the metastasis state since 2014. That If i wanted to tell something to him it was better i did It fast.
I cannot describe how that moment felt. True denial. True, pure, raw denial. I was calm, i didnt process any of it. Opened my phone and texted him “did any of the studios replied about the job applications?” He did see it but never replied. Two days later he was gone. 2 months before our graduation. I never said goodbye.
In 2021 the graduation ceremony had an empty chair for him.
Cannot tell me what haunts me the most, our story being cut without a warning right where It should be beggining or how in that exact moment my brain blacked out to the point i played it all out that day as If we still had a future. I see him sometimes in my dreams.
But it’s a forever state of “what could’ve been”. Dropped my animation career, still working with art but i cannot animate anymore.
My mom passing away in front of me. It wasn’t silent. She whimpered, she cried, she was in pain. It sucked so hard for her and it’s something I dream about, waking up in tears. I’m happy I was with her and that she wasn’t alone, but I’m scarred.
One of my best friends completely abandoned me. I tried contacting her so many times and got no response. I dont know what I did to deserve that but it just goes to show even the people closest to you can change really quick
My husband knows everything about me, but i know i’ll never fully heal from this. When i was young, i was curious and pushed boundaries and killed a lizard in a bad way. It weighs heavy on my soul, i was only 8 and it immediately changed how i perceived the world and never did it again, honestly it made me even more empathetic. Every time i think about whether or not i’m a good person i always think of that lizard
Being physically and emotionally neglected by my mum and then having to care for her messed me up. I had to make sure she was okay a lot, get her tablets, ring my nanan or the hospital if she wasn’t, cook for both of us and then also clean. I went to a group for young carers for a bit and I didn’t understand why we had to do this. I was ten or so.
I was molested from 5-13 by my dad. My mom protected him. He only stopped when I started my period because it could have “caused issues.”
No adult who was a mandated reporter believed me. They told me I was a liar. My mom still protects him. He was a registered sex offender when she married him.
My cervix is so scarred from it I cannot have my own children.
I don’t think I’ve healed from my dad’s death.
I was 15 when he passed away and I could never process it fully. He was an alcoholic so I can’t say we had a very loving relationship. He was a good person but he was a bad drunk and I’ve hardly ever seen him sober. So I don’t really know. My brain kinda blocked many things so the memories are hazy but I get him in my dreams quite often!
Time for therapy, I know!
Screwing things up with my ex. It was over 10 years ago. Im still not over it. Ive been in multiple relationships, doing well in life generally, from the outside you’d think I was totally past it all but I miss her every day and it never hurts any less.
Tried therapy, even hypnotherapy, but nothing ever helped.
Swallow hard, thinking of something else and avoid the quiet. Thank fuck for podcasts
Spending 14 hours saying goodbye to my mother in a country with poor healthcare, where we dont speak the language and with the man that took her there. Holding her as she experienced all of the horrible things that come with impending death. Looking her in the eyes and telling her I love her, telling her stories of us when I was a kid, listening to our favorite music. Telling her that I, the least equipped son, would look after my brothers and that she should not worry. Holding her hand and falling asleep only to wake up when she was reaching out to me and finally passing. It was the worst day of my life. Especially having to think about all of the times I could have begged her to come home, to heal, to be with us again. But I hadn’t forgiven her, and now I can only empathize with my mother who was an incredible woman, fulfilled her responsibilities as a mother and then found she wasn’t happy when we were gone.
I would go to therapy and heal, but I can’t afford it.
I have a visible disability that my family never really acknowledged and it felt taboo to talk about it. I find myself trying to hide it and felt a lot of shame about it. It’s held me back from enjoying myself to the fullest potential and I hold a lot of resentment that my parents never talked about it with me.
Despite my disability I never had problems dating, participating in sports, and being gainfully employed. I have gone to therapy for it and have come a long way. I think most people who know me would be surprised to hear about my insecurity. But sometimes I wonder how much more I would’ve enjoyed my life if I felt more comfortable in my skin.
Mine is not so tragic as others, but being ghosted by someone I considered a best best friend with absolutely no hints or warning—that was devastating.
I was what one would describe slightly effiminate in my early teens.
Late to puberty, so my voice was like a woman’s, late beard growth (ironic since I grow a badass beard now at 26) and the like.
It did not help that I was a nerd, stuck to the library and was good at math.
I was constantly asked to man up. And not behave like a little girl.
I hated it. I cried in the restrooms. I cried at home. I cried in the library. And when I was found crying, it became worse because men don’t cry.
Nobody knows about it. The bullies have grown up. Some of them are married. Some have children.
But a part of me is dead. And it will never come back. From a society perspective, one would call me more successful than most of them.
I don’t want revenge.
I just want them to look me in the eye and tell me they were jerks. And they’re sorry.
Yes understandably that affects you, I know, but people don’t know major details about our relationship or the depth to which she shaped my world view and philosophy. She was genuinely a visionary, without bias, but was deeply disturbed too.
I still hallucinate her semi-regularly, which no one knows. They know I used to, but my daily presentation now is fine. I do tell them I struggle, but they don’t get it, it’s obviously how little they get it.
It doesn’t rule my life anymore, but it definitely affects me.
Getting raped, SA and my dad yelling and pushing me into a wall, yelling at me. I can’t stand someone raising their voice in general if its a stranger or over hearing someone yelling. I back down.
It takes me time too when I get physical with someone.
Miscarriage my senior year of high school. Nobody knows except my then boyfriend and his mom. She convinced him I was lying for attention and a week later, he broke up with me over text and blocked me straightaway. It’s been 11 years. I have only recently opened up to the idea of having children, but it’s too late. (Long story). I have purposely not had kids because of the anger of my loss, punishing myself perhaps.
When I was 14 I met a 28 year old guy of of Vampirefreaks.com and we were in a physical and committed relationship. Obviously he’s a pedophile but to me it was a real relationship. I lost my virginity to him. Got pregnant and had and had an abortion. When my mom finally found out about him, she went to the cops and I helped him flee the state. Last I knew he was living a seemingly normal life in another state. I haven’t creeped his social media since the days of the “MeToo” movement. I reached out to his wife and she said I was making it up because I didn’t have proof. This was 10 years after I had been with him and vf had been deleted and I didn’t have the cell phone he had got me anymore. I just dropped it. But I still think about it all the time and wonder if it’s where my issues with sex and drug addiction started. I’m finally in healing and doing really well but had 15 years of just nonstop problems.
Going no contact with my parents. After the first couple of weeks I stopped talking about it. Most people don’t acknowledge no contact like the death of a loved one since a) no one died and b) it was my choice. It’s been 3 years and 14 years respectively from going no contact and I still cry about it weekly. But as far as everyone knows I’m happy.
In one group of friends my best friend left her husband who was also in the friend group. I was friends with her first and she was my best friend. She was one of two close friends I felt I could actually talk about anything to and not have to be guarded. There was no wall up between us. After a few years she not only left her husband but the whole friend group to be with someone else. She played all of us while she was doing it and my stupid ass drove her to the person she was leaving her husband for and didn’t know he didn’t know. She lied every step of the way to all of us. She basically unfriended me because I stayed friends with the group.
Eventually everyone else seemed to have gotten over it and moved on. But I never have and they don’t know about it. It’s been almost two years I wouldn’t even know where to begin or how to bring up old wounds so I just keep it to myself. I still miss her deeply she was my soul sister. I think about her daily.
Mine was a pretty simple thing…I had told my family that all I wanted for my 50th was a party with my friends and family. I had told them many times over the years. Month or so before, I’d heard nothing so I asked and they all said, “oh we didn’t know!” I had told them so, so many times! So my sister tried to do a last minute, “oh we’ll just go to dinner instead!” I ultimately said no because they had hurt me so badly that I didn’t want to have anything at all. (This was after many years of ignoring important things in my life so it hurt far worse than you would think.)
I broke up with my ex boyfriend, we were together 10 years. Never got over leaving our dog with him (situation I had no choice). Cried for years every time I thought about her or saw a boxer dog. Bumped into him with said dog a few years later and she lost her shit with happiness when she saw me again. Cue floods of tears and guilt for leaving her 😭 she was the most sensitive, happy soul
I was pregnant in 2006. When I was 14 weeks pregnant I lost the baby. I spent the night alone in the hospital after a D & C and no one called, no one came to see me and I had to find my own ride home. I was never told “ I’m sorry for your loss “ not even my family members. More than one time over the years I’ve shed a tear about it sometimes I still think about it. If I ever have a chance I’ll gladly take it to get another baby but at my age 49 it won’t happen now. I still think about what could have been.
I had a best friend from before school until we turned 16. Did everything with them, brought them to every family event I could possibly convince my mom to let me bring them to. They went on family vacations with us. We hung out nearly every day, walking around our hometown all night. When they got their license, they became friends with people who thought I was “weird” and uncool. Then decided to ghost me for said friends. It happened over the summer, no explanation. My parents saw me in this pain, shutting down, isolating myself. They told me I should just try to make amends. My parents were on the friends’ side about everything, acting like everything was my fault. I spent the summer working and strongly, daily considering suicide at 16. I made a half assed attempt before that, but I spent multiple days trying to make plans. Not sure how I made it through. I was completely alone.
They called me during an event where said friends were absolute shit to them, and I showed up in support despite the pain. We hung out another time, they apologized (half assed) saying they still wanted to be my friend. While the other friends were in a car across the block mocking my crying and pain, driving by laughing. Come graduation, the other friends had continued to be shit to ex best friend. The ex friend decided to apologize to me over text when we graduated high school. Where was the effort?
I got an invite to the wedding. One of the shit friends was in the wedding party, acted like an attention-seeking, whiny-ass-bitch through the vacation they took to celebrate before the wedding. At the wedding, gave an impromptu speech that was the worst speech I have ever heard at a wedding. Hell, after not knowing this person for years before the wedding, I still could have given a better impromptu speech. Shit friend of course left early.
Funny thing is, the more I dig up out of my locked memories of my childhood and this friendship, I realize how much of a shit best friend they even were before all this happened.
I have made a few friends since through college or work or my current partner. I cannot get that same type of trust and closeness to anyone else though. I have been in therapy for depression now for a few years, and have been working toward healing (not only from this, but that’s another story). It’s insane how I still have nightmares and dreams that involve this person who hurt me so terribly.
There is not enough awareness for how severely painful friendship break-ups can be. I am unsure if I will ever heal. I can forgive, as we were kids. But I will never want to be this person’s friend again. We live two different lives, and unfortunately this pain will sit with me for the rest of mine.
So when I was in school I nearly died cause I started choking on my food. It was at that moment I realised that I was alone because my friends were all laughing at me, even at the point where I was turning purple and almost blacked out.
I was constantly being picked on for being the “big guy.” Well, tbh I still get picked on for it. It’s reached the point where I don’t eat anything at all on some days.
My girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend. And he was a very close friend to me, I even talked him out of suicide, and then he went and took my girlfriend.
But anyways, you just gotta keep smiling and move on from these things.
One of the first cats my husband I got together was called Tommy. Big brute of a cat. Genuinely massive. He looked like a house panther but had the soppiest little mew and was the biggest coward. Whenever we went to the vet he would climb up into my arms to be held while getting any injections and would bury his face into me.
I was cooking dinner one day and he was begging me for scraps. He was standing on his hind legs and sinking his claws in my hip to keep reminding me he was there and he wanted food. I told him to bugger off. So he hopped down and wandered off.
About 10 minutes later my husband went upstairs to hang some washing up and screamed that there was something wrong with Tommy. By the time I got upstairs our double bed was on its side as Tommy was right under the middle. He was wailing in pain and his back legs weren’t working at all. We were at the emergency vet within minutes having called them on route. He screamed the entire time but it sounded wet. The vet examined him and took him back and gave him some high dose painkillers.
Tommy had always had a heart murmur and unfortunately his heart had thrown two clots. One lodged in his spine and paralysed him and the other in his lungs. They asked if we wanted to see him and we did. Poor Tommy was so angry he didn’t recognise us initially and was growling and hissing at us. Until we spoke to him and he just started purring. We had him put to sleep 10 minutes later. We talked to him and stroked him the entire time. After he died the fluid in his lungs started coming out of his nose and mouth. I couldn’t get over how much there was. As soon as he passed my husband left the room and was sobbing in the waiting area but I couldn’t leave him and couldn’t stop stroking him. The vet eventually had to shoe me out. Every time it was quiet for weeks after that I could hear Tommy wailing. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the noise he made.
I was about 9 he was 18ish . I always joke about it but I know that caused me issues , I wouldn’t entertain a penis for a long time , I had a skewered reality of what they looked like .
I think it affected me way more than I’d like to admit .
Comments
Miscarriage
I found a sick young pigeon when I was in Iraq and I nursed it back to health and it became my buddy. It would ride on my shoulder and I taught it to fly by sort of gently tossing it like a football. It would fly in a huge circle and land back on my shoulder. I had to carry a handkerchief on my shoulder because he pooped a lot. I named him Bam after Bam Margera and because he went “bam” against the back of a humvee during his first flight attempt. A lot of officers and sergeants were pissed off about me having this bird even though I kept him outside in a shaded area and he wasn’t hurting anyone. One day I found him dead where someone had stomped on him. His guts were out of his body and he was completely smashed. Some cowardly fucking psycho murdered Bam out of spite and didn’t have the balls to confess to it. He’s buried in the desert just outside of Ballad, Iraq. I had to be stoic about it because I wasn’t going to let them have the satisfaction of seeing how bad it hurt me. But my heart is still broken. It was never going to end well because I eventually had to leave and wouldn’t have been able to take him home. But it didn’t have to end like that.
Edit: Wow. Thank you everyone for all of your kind words and the stories you’re sharing. I hadn’t thought about this in such a long time. It was such a rough time in my life as it was. This was in Iraq in 2003 right after the initial invasion and I was basically still a kid. Not even old enough to drink. I had two friends die in a helicopter crash, and ended up losing a friend to a mortar round and my best friend by suicide. It was such a traumatic part of my life that this got kind of buried in there. I never cried because I was so numb as it was and refused to show emotion to others for it. But now after talking about it with strangers and hearing all over your stories I’m in my car all teared up for the first time more than 20 years later. It feels good to get some of that out. Thank you all again for being so empathetic. Love to you all.
Not to be woe as me, and for sure plenty of other people have gone through worse, but I went through a lot of traumatic experiences when I was younger, that I never dealt with, that as I’m getting into my mid 20’s I realize have affected me a grave deal. Relatively sure I have depression but I’ve got bigger fish to fry
I’ve never fully healed from growing up feeling different, judged, and left out. It’s something I still carry, though no one really knows.
Losing a friend from cancer suddenly, when he was 22
Being bullied as a kid and always the friend no one liked and was talked about behind my back. Never got over it and have had low self esteem my entire life because of it. Always feel ugly and “unfun” to be around.
The loss of my soul dogs death. Everyone just said I’m to sensitive, its just a dog. Get over it.
I was about to put something down here but man I read others. I guess my life has been pretty good.
I fully expected to see a lot of relationship stories. Man though, I really feel bad for some of you guys.
my sister tried to kill herself by taking a whole bottle of tylenol that she bought when i let her wander off around the store by herself.
i literally have unimaginable guilt.
Trust issues. I’ve had horrible trust issues since I was a child after my dad left our family. It’s gotten better, but I still find it very hard to trust people whether or not they are my friend.
If you are asking anyone over 40, they all know that you never fully heal from ANYTHING. That ankle sprain in your 20s? Yeah, that’s a problem now. That bit of carpal tunnel syndrome that went away? No, no it didn’t. Back injuries are for life.
Due to an accident, some bones in my body got broken, like in my hands and my toes, I didn’t tell anyone and lived with it. Whenever someone asks me if I am okay I was like “yeah cool, like a fish in a pool” (inner screaming)
Almost dying, being stuck on dialysis forever, and just having to tell everyone I’m ok, when all I hear is how thankful I should be that I lived.
My family moved constantly. I went to 8 different schools. Eventually I just gave up trying to make friends because it wasnt worth it.
I starved myself when I was getting bullied at work, got pregnant with a little child who only lived for a few short moments after being born, and then found out a nutrient deficiency may have caused what happened to her.
Abandonment.
My stepfather’s death.
Dad left when I was 5. He kept promising to come back, so I spent years waiting, checking the mail box three times a day (knowing full well the mail gets only delivered in the morning, but I was desperate), and then my mother met this guy.
I hated his guts for obvious reasons, but he was genuinely nice. They had another kid together a few months in.
A year later on a trip to ikea while we were sitting in a car, something just clicked inside my head though. I was looking at him laughing with my mom, and still remember having this long thought process. That my father is never going to come back (went entirely radio silent after my mom got pregnant), but this guy is here. I have a new family. Everything is going to be okay.
I asked him right then if I can call him “dad”.
He died the next day in a freak work accident. I was 9, and haven’t been okay since.
I don’t talk about it mostly because my sibling was the one dotted on.
FInding my neighbor dead by accident. It was a home well check that resulted in him being dead for a week and nobody noticed until me and my roommate noticed. It happened almost 10 years ago and I have never fully healed from it.
When my sister and I were in Preschool, age 4ish, I was kidnapped by my biological mother. She was forced by LE & my father to return me 4 days later.
This was not her attempt to have me all to herself, & spoil me.
Her plan was to murder me for being born and ruining her perfect marriage to my father and sister.
I was always reminded by her that I was a mistake and how much she hated me.
When I was brought home I was in a State of shock and remained silent and emotionless for al.ost a year. My stepmother said I was like in a coma but awake.
DM for the rest ..
Aloha, K
I grew up without a dad, he passed 20 days before I was born. I’m the youngest of 4. It’s weird, it isn’t something that really happened to me and it’s been years, I’m an adult now. But seeing people with their dads and being able to see others parents be together and do normal every day stuff still stings. I find myself watching dads with their daughters like a creeper all the time, trying to imagine what it feels like. Imagining what my life and I would be like with that support to lean back on.
I don’t think we realise how much we take for granted until we don’t have it.
Abandonment issues
Having an abortion
my live in boyfriend cheating on me. Happened 12 years ago. It was a gut punch i had no idea. I don’t trust anyone to this day
Way too much stuff.
Shit would happen in my life and I would sort of just go “yeah, that happened to me” and I would just move on.
By my mid-40s, that shit caught up to me. I am now trying to go back (in my mind) and process shit so that I can be healthier.
My dad having a longterm affair and treating my mom like crap. They divorced when I was 18 and he married his affair partner. I’m 45 now, my mom and dad both died this year. We found letters in our mom’s stuff that gave more details and really compounded the hurt from years ago. Probably need to go back to therapy, especially since I’m now going through my own divorce. 2025 is the worst.
My daughter needing multiple invasive and highly dangerous surgeries for both liver disease and a brain tumor. Somehow she is outwardly totally fine, and every time I look at her I think I must be in some kind of insane fake dream world and in reality she is gone and I’m just living in a fantasy where she’s alive.
Depression.
Not the kind that announces itself. Mine is quiet; settled like a heavy fog that never lifts. I try to mask it, both consciously and unconsciously, suppressing the obvious traits. Most days, you’d never notice. I laugh, I respond, I function. But there’s a shadow to everything I do; faint, but always present. It stays tucked into the corners of my mind like clutter I keep telling myself I’ll deal with later.
When the spiral hits, like it has been lately, it becomes harder to manage. It leaks through in the form of irritability, impatience, and this strange compulsion to stay busy. Maybe that’s not all that different from how I normally am. Honestly, as I form and navigate new relationships, it’s getting harder to tell what’s me and what’s the depression.
The thing is, I usually enjoy stillness. There’s something sacred about sitting with nothing but your thoughts. But when I’m in this state? Stillness becomes unbearable. The silence turns hostile. It’s exhausting to constantly fight thoughts you don’t want to exist.
I don’t blame people for not noticing. Or for not wanting to. Depression is heavy, and no one wants to imagine someone they love quietly carrying something so dark. And I don’t show the signs people are taught to look for. I don’t self-harm. I don’t act out or do anything reckless to raise alarms. So, on the surface, there’s nothing to “worry” about.
Still, I like to believe the people around me are doing the best they can; grappling with something they don’t fully understand, wishing they could help but not knowing how. The truth is, they can’t help. I wouldn’t let them.
I’ve built myself into someone who doesn’t ask for anything. Someone who moves her own mountains because the people who should’ve helped me a long time ago didn’t. Or, grace be given, couldn’t. And now, the people who do want to help are faced with impossible standards I had to create in order to survive.
I am hyper-independent to a fault. If something needs lifting, I lift it. If I’m hurt, I patch myself up. If I need a hospital, I drive myself there. That’s how I cope. The way I carry myself, strong and composed and unbothered, is the only thing that’s ever truly protected me.
I often tell others I’m just feeling anxious or under the weather. I think, at my core, I’m meant to be happy. A ray of sunshine. But there’s an impenetrable bubble around that part of me.
Still, I try to play the part in my day-to-day life—for appearances, yes, but also to prove to myself that even if I can’t heal, I can still make the most of life while it’s here. And I’ll be here for the long haul. Whether that’s absurdism or just acceptance, I’m not sure. All I know is we only get one, and it’s over faster than it feels. I’ll ride it out.
When I was very young my parents got a Doberman named Greta for a family pet. It quickly grew into being my dog. We were inseparable. My parents didn’t like it when I snuck her into my room to sleep so often I would go sleep on the floor with her by the front door. One day shortly after my 7th birthday I came home from school and Greta was gone. My parents had given her away. I still remember running to my room and just staring out my window hoping it wasn’t real. I was told I didn’t speak for days after that. That was 42 years ago. My parents are dead, and they never could give me a reason why they gave my dog away. So I will never know. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
My sister and brother in law, who were injured in a mass shooting in 2017.
I was SA when I was a kid by a stranger then endured years and years of physical abuse in our toxic home.
Though I’ve grown and evolved through it all, I don’t think you can ever really let it escape.
Certain noises, scents, etc put me on a hair trigger
Childhood Trauma
Besides all the serious shit – I also still heal from the embarrassment caused by my terrible smalltalk at the supermarket.
It was 6pm and the cashier was tired, he told me he has another 2 hours to go for his shift and said how much he is looking forward to the end of his shift. And me being my sarcastic little self, I said ‘I can’t imagine’. He misunderstood and took offence and said ‘what? You can’t imagine to do this job?’. I desperately tried to clarify it.
And I still feel embarrassed.
I accidentally ran over a squirrel 30 yrs ago. It’s the only animal I have killed. I can still remember the way it looked in my rear view mirror like I am looking at it right now.
That I have no memories of my father and most of my life until about the age of 10. I can remember all the abuse that happened from that age on. This has caused many unhealed emotional wounds. I live in a state of constant anxiety. Meds don’t do much even the good stuff. The only thing that helps is smoking Marijuana when the anxiety is really bad. I look at what I am assuming are normal families and I want that so badly. Be able to be that guy with my twins and there mother.
The first guy that I ever loved passed away. He was my first love and we broke up years ago. He got married & then divorced. We reconnected and instantly knew that the love never left. But I was living in another state at the time and he was still dealing with ex wife issues. He had a massive heart attack in the shower one morning. He was gone. He was only 33 years old. My entire heart broke into a million pieces. It’s been a few years and still not healed fully. I never told my parents or anyone that we had reconnected before he passed. 💔
When my dad violently confronted me as a teen because I painted my toenails.
I get he came from a very anti-gay generation… but it still hurts to this day. Im not even gay. Just a closet goth.
My dad drunk driving us as kids. I was about 14-15 and can remember all of it. It was late at night coming home from Christmas dinner at a family members house. He was swerving all over the freeway and we almost crashed multiple times. My mom nor he ever addressed it afterwards. Now that I have a kid of my own it’s something I don’t think I can ever forgive.
Covid lockdown when I was living in apartment by myself, in a country with no family around.
The constant bullying when I was in jr high. Got it from my classmates, my brother, and my dad. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I didn’t get bullied. I still have severe issues because of it.
My college coordinator’s death.
My high school was inside of a college campus, they prepared the students to get in there specifically. I was undiagnosed at the time, but i’ve got the autistic + epilepsy combo, high school was awful and i was suffering. My only scape was animating videos of my characters for YouTube.
Met this animation teacher from the film course and we clicked instantly. I was 14 (2014) and he took me as one of his own, let me participate in classes and always supported me, he was just euphoric about It and was my biggest supporter. At the time he already had a type of cancer for a while, but nothing severe.
In my last year of high school he announced they were going to open the university’s first animation course and he’d be the course coordinator. I couldn’t be happier, It was fate. My parents wanted me to go for graphic design bc It has better job opportunities, mentioned that to him and he said It would be a pleasure to have a meeting with my parents and that he wouldn’t let them leave until i was allowed to be on that course.
Said and done, did all the entrance exams and passed. These were the years, studying and doing what i loved the most with The Icon Himself. Sadly i got very ill and depressed during the first years, was in and out of the hospital every week and not paying lots of attention to the classes, but allllways greeting eachother and always telling him “cannot wait for you to hand me my diploma”. He was in and out of the hospital as well, the cancer never really receeded but nothing severe. At least that’s what he made it look like.
It’s 2020, we’re working on our thesis film and he was hyper about helping me find a job in a few studios. The pandemic hits. A few months later my friend calls and tells me one of our teachers told her he was probably on his last week, that he never got out of the metastasis state since 2014. That If i wanted to tell something to him it was better i did It fast.
I cannot describe how that moment felt. True denial. True, pure, raw denial. I was calm, i didnt process any of it. Opened my phone and texted him “did any of the studios replied about the job applications?” He did see it but never replied. Two days later he was gone. 2 months before our graduation. I never said goodbye.
In 2021 the graduation ceremony had an empty chair for him.
Cannot tell me what haunts me the most, our story being cut without a warning right where It should be beggining or how in that exact moment my brain blacked out to the point i played it all out that day as If we still had a future. I see him sometimes in my dreams.
But it’s a forever state of “what could’ve been”. Dropped my animation career, still working with art but i cannot animate anymore.
Getting cheated on, hurt like a bitch. Still stings when I think about it
My mom passing away in front of me. It wasn’t silent. She whimpered, she cried, she was in pain. It sucked so hard for her and it’s something I dream about, waking up in tears. I’m happy I was with her and that she wasn’t alone, but I’m scarred.
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One of my best friends completely abandoned me. I tried contacting her so many times and got no response. I dont know what I did to deserve that but it just goes to show even the people closest to you can change really quick
My husband knows everything about me, but i know i’ll never fully heal from this. When i was young, i was curious and pushed boundaries and killed a lizard in a bad way. It weighs heavy on my soul, i was only 8 and it immediately changed how i perceived the world and never did it again, honestly it made me even more empathetic. Every time i think about whether or not i’m a good person i always think of that lizard
My miscarriage.
Being physically and emotionally neglected by my mum and then having to care for her messed me up. I had to make sure she was okay a lot, get her tablets, ring my nanan or the hospital if she wasn’t, cook for both of us and then also clean. I went to a group for young carers for a bit and I didn’t understand why we had to do this. I was ten or so.
Feeling like it was my job to help my parents deal with their own mental problems and insecurities when I was elementary age.
I was molested from 5-13 by my dad. My mom protected him. He only stopped when I started my period because it could have “caused issues.”
No adult who was a mandated reporter believed me. They told me I was a liar. My mom still protects him. He was a registered sex offender when she married him.
My cervix is so scarred from it I cannot have my own children.
I don’t think I’ve healed from my dad’s death.
I was 15 when he passed away and I could never process it fully. He was an alcoholic so I can’t say we had a very loving relationship. He was a good person but he was a bad drunk and I’ve hardly ever seen him sober. So I don’t really know. My brain kinda blocked many things so the memories are hazy but I get him in my dreams quite often!
Time for therapy, I know!
Screwing things up with my ex. It was over 10 years ago. Im still not over it. Ive been in multiple relationships, doing well in life generally, from the outside you’d think I was totally past it all but I miss her every day and it never hurts any less.
Tried therapy, even hypnotherapy, but nothing ever helped.
Swallow hard, thinking of something else and avoid the quiet. Thank fuck for podcasts
Spending 14 hours saying goodbye to my mother in a country with poor healthcare, where we dont speak the language and with the man that took her there. Holding her as she experienced all of the horrible things that come with impending death. Looking her in the eyes and telling her I love her, telling her stories of us when I was a kid, listening to our favorite music. Telling her that I, the least equipped son, would look after my brothers and that she should not worry. Holding her hand and falling asleep only to wake up when she was reaching out to me and finally passing. It was the worst day of my life. Especially having to think about all of the times I could have begged her to come home, to heal, to be with us again. But I hadn’t forgiven her, and now I can only empathize with my mother who was an incredible woman, fulfilled her responsibilities as a mother and then found she wasn’t happy when we were gone.
I would go to therapy and heal, but I can’t afford it.
I have a visible disability that my family never really acknowledged and it felt taboo to talk about it. I find myself trying to hide it and felt a lot of shame about it. It’s held me back from enjoying myself to the fullest potential and I hold a lot of resentment that my parents never talked about it with me.
Despite my disability I never had problems dating, participating in sports, and being gainfully employed. I have gone to therapy for it and have come a long way. I think most people who know me would be surprised to hear about my insecurity. But sometimes I wonder how much more I would’ve enjoyed my life if I felt more comfortable in my skin.
Mine is not so tragic as others, but being ghosted by someone I considered a best best friend with absolutely no hints or warning—that was devastating.
I was what one would describe slightly effiminate in my early teens.
Late to puberty, so my voice was like a woman’s, late beard growth (ironic since I grow a badass beard now at 26) and the like.
It did not help that I was a nerd, stuck to the library and was good at math.
I was constantly asked to man up. And not behave like a little girl.
I hated it. I cried in the restrooms. I cried at home. I cried in the library. And when I was found crying, it became worse because men don’t cry.
Nobody knows about it. The bullies have grown up. Some of them are married. Some have children.
But a part of me is dead. And it will never come back. From a society perspective, one would call me more successful than most of them.
I don’t want revenge.
I just want them to look me in the eye and tell me they were jerks. And they’re sorry.
My first girlfriends suicide.
Yes understandably that affects you, I know, but people don’t know major details about our relationship or the depth to which she shaped my world view and philosophy. She was genuinely a visionary, without bias, but was deeply disturbed too.
I still hallucinate her semi-regularly, which no one knows. They know I used to, but my daily presentation now is fine. I do tell them I struggle, but they don’t get it, it’s obviously how little they get it.
It doesn’t rule my life anymore, but it definitely affects me.
Getting raped, SA and my dad yelling and pushing me into a wall, yelling at me. I can’t stand someone raising their voice in general if its a stranger or over hearing someone yelling. I back down.
It takes me time too when I get physical with someone.
Miscarriage my senior year of high school. Nobody knows except my then boyfriend and his mom. She convinced him I was lying for attention and a week later, he broke up with me over text and blocked me straightaway. It’s been 11 years. I have only recently opened up to the idea of having children, but it’s too late. (Long story). I have purposely not had kids because of the anger of my loss, punishing myself perhaps.
When I was 14 I met a 28 year old guy of of Vampirefreaks.com and we were in a physical and committed relationship. Obviously he’s a pedophile but to me it was a real relationship. I lost my virginity to him. Got pregnant and had and had an abortion. When my mom finally found out about him, she went to the cops and I helped him flee the state. Last I knew he was living a seemingly normal life in another state. I haven’t creeped his social media since the days of the “MeToo” movement. I reached out to his wife and she said I was making it up because I didn’t have proof. This was 10 years after I had been with him and vf had been deleted and I didn’t have the cell phone he had got me anymore. I just dropped it. But I still think about it all the time and wonder if it’s where my issues with sex and drug addiction started. I’m finally in healing and doing really well but had 15 years of just nonstop problems.
The sudden loss of my former partner, who was also the father of our child, to suicide is something I’ve never fully healed from
Going no contact with my parents. After the first couple of weeks I stopped talking about it. Most people don’t acknowledge no contact like the death of a loved one since a) no one died and b) it was my choice. It’s been 3 years and 14 years respectively from going no contact and I still cry about it weekly. But as far as everyone knows I’m happy.
In one group of friends my best friend left her husband who was also in the friend group. I was friends with her first and she was my best friend. She was one of two close friends I felt I could actually talk about anything to and not have to be guarded. There was no wall up between us. After a few years she not only left her husband but the whole friend group to be with someone else. She played all of us while she was doing it and my stupid ass drove her to the person she was leaving her husband for and didn’t know he didn’t know. She lied every step of the way to all of us. She basically unfriended me because I stayed friends with the group.
Eventually everyone else seemed to have gotten over it and moved on. But I never have and they don’t know about it. It’s been almost two years I wouldn’t even know where to begin or how to bring up old wounds so I just keep it to myself. I still miss her deeply she was my soul sister. I think about her daily.
Childhood neglect. I still struggle asking for help since I never got the help I needed growing up.
Mine was a pretty simple thing…I had told my family that all I wanted for my 50th was a party with my friends and family. I had told them many times over the years. Month or so before, I’d heard nothing so I asked and they all said, “oh we didn’t know!” I had told them so, so many times! So my sister tried to do a last minute, “oh we’ll just go to dinner instead!” I ultimately said no because they had hurt me so badly that I didn’t want to have anything at all. (This was after many years of ignoring important things in my life so it hurt far worse than you would think.)
I broke up with my ex boyfriend, we were together 10 years. Never got over leaving our dog with him (situation I had no choice). Cried for years every time I thought about her or saw a boxer dog. Bumped into him with said dog a few years later and she lost her shit with happiness when she saw me again. Cue floods of tears and guilt for leaving her 😭 she was the most sensitive, happy soul
I told my parents I was going to kill myself and needed to be taken to the hospital. My dad insisted we stop for coffee on the way there.
I dunno, it seems stupid typing it out but in the moment it made me realize that they viewed my struggles as their inconveniences.
I was pregnant in 2006. When I was 14 weeks pregnant I lost the baby. I spent the night alone in the hospital after a D & C and no one called, no one came to see me and I had to find my own ride home. I was never told “ I’m sorry for your loss “ not even my family members. More than one time over the years I’ve shed a tear about it sometimes I still think about it. If I ever have a chance I’ll gladly take it to get another baby but at my age 49 it won’t happen now. I still think about what could have been.
Being degraded as a kid. 0 confidence
I had a best friend from before school until we turned 16. Did everything with them, brought them to every family event I could possibly convince my mom to let me bring them to. They went on family vacations with us. We hung out nearly every day, walking around our hometown all night. When they got their license, they became friends with people who thought I was “weird” and uncool. Then decided to ghost me for said friends. It happened over the summer, no explanation. My parents saw me in this pain, shutting down, isolating myself. They told me I should just try to make amends. My parents were on the friends’ side about everything, acting like everything was my fault. I spent the summer working and strongly, daily considering suicide at 16. I made a half assed attempt before that, but I spent multiple days trying to make plans. Not sure how I made it through. I was completely alone.
They called me during an event where said friends were absolute shit to them, and I showed up in support despite the pain. We hung out another time, they apologized (half assed) saying they still wanted to be my friend. While the other friends were in a car across the block mocking my crying and pain, driving by laughing. Come graduation, the other friends had continued to be shit to ex best friend. The ex friend decided to apologize to me over text when we graduated high school. Where was the effort?
I got an invite to the wedding. One of the shit friends was in the wedding party, acted like an attention-seeking, whiny-ass-bitch through the vacation they took to celebrate before the wedding. At the wedding, gave an impromptu speech that was the worst speech I have ever heard at a wedding. Hell, after not knowing this person for years before the wedding, I still could have given a better impromptu speech. Shit friend of course left early.
Funny thing is, the more I dig up out of my locked memories of my childhood and this friendship, I realize how much of a shit best friend they even were before all this happened.
I have made a few friends since through college or work or my current partner. I cannot get that same type of trust and closeness to anyone else though. I have been in therapy for depression now for a few years, and have been working toward healing (not only from this, but that’s another story). It’s insane how I still have nightmares and dreams that involve this person who hurt me so terribly.
There is not enough awareness for how severely painful friendship break-ups can be. I am unsure if I will ever heal. I can forgive, as we were kids. But I will never want to be this person’s friend again. We live two different lives, and unfortunately this pain will sit with me for the rest of mine.
*edited to break it up a bit better
The way my first love ended. It’s been years, and I moved on, but a small part of me still hurts when I think about how easily they let me go.
A few things, to be honest.
Where do I begin?
So when I was in school I nearly died cause I started choking on my food. It was at that moment I realised that I was alone because my friends were all laughing at me, even at the point where I was turning purple and almost blacked out.
I was constantly being picked on for being the “big guy.” Well, tbh I still get picked on for it. It’s reached the point where I don’t eat anything at all on some days.
My girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend. And he was a very close friend to me, I even talked him out of suicide, and then he went and took my girlfriend.
But anyways, you just gotta keep smiling and move on from these things.
My own bad decisions. I don’t think I’ll ever really forgive myself for my mistakes
Watching my mom die. I’m grateful that I was able to hold her hand and be there with her but those images have traumatized me forever.
One of the first cats my husband I got together was called Tommy. Big brute of a cat. Genuinely massive. He looked like a house panther but had the soppiest little mew and was the biggest coward. Whenever we went to the vet he would climb up into my arms to be held while getting any injections and would bury his face into me.
I was cooking dinner one day and he was begging me for scraps. He was standing on his hind legs and sinking his claws in my hip to keep reminding me he was there and he wanted food. I told him to bugger off. So he hopped down and wandered off.
About 10 minutes later my husband went upstairs to hang some washing up and screamed that there was something wrong with Tommy. By the time I got upstairs our double bed was on its side as Tommy was right under the middle. He was wailing in pain and his back legs weren’t working at all. We were at the emergency vet within minutes having called them on route. He screamed the entire time but it sounded wet. The vet examined him and took him back and gave him some high dose painkillers.
Tommy had always had a heart murmur and unfortunately his heart had thrown two clots. One lodged in his spine and paralysed him and the other in his lungs. They asked if we wanted to see him and we did. Poor Tommy was so angry he didn’t recognise us initially and was growling and hissing at us. Until we spoke to him and he just started purring. We had him put to sleep 10 minutes later. We talked to him and stroked him the entire time. After he died the fluid in his lungs started coming out of his nose and mouth. I couldn’t get over how much there was. As soon as he passed my husband left the room and was sobbing in the waiting area but I couldn’t leave him and couldn’t stop stroking him. The vet eventually had to shoe me out. Every time it was quiet for weeks after that I could hear Tommy wailing. I don’t think I’ll ever forget the noise he made.
Being flashed as a kid .
I was about 9 he was 18ish . I always joke about it but I know that caused me issues , I wouldn’t entertain a penis for a long time , I had a skewered reality of what they looked like .
I think it affected me way more than I’d like to admit .