u/AppropriateAd3768

I’ve lived in bucks for a good portion of my life. In High Wycombe and Aylesbury. But I’ve never been to Milton Keynes so I have absolutely no idea how it is. Please give me the unfiltered truth because I’m considering moving there next year.

My poison is weed. That’s what I’m having trouble recovering from but I’ve only sniffed coke a few times when it’s been offered to me. But for some reason I keep having extremely vivid dreams of doing it. I gotta be honest here, I loved it each time. Ofc I hated the comedown but it feels way too good for my own good. I can’t do it again coz I can see how addictive the stuff is. Weed is nothing compared to the sniff. But those dreams are not helping at all coz when I wake up I really want a line.

It goes without saying the other countries are even harder to understand but I’m currently talking to an Egyptian and I’m finding it hard to understand them. Anyone from Iraq, to lebanon, to the khaleej… it’s not an issue. But once we go past Palestine to Egypt. It just gets hard.

Bare in mind I was born and bred in the UK.

Specifically Egypt. It goes without saying the other countries are even harder to understand but I’m currently talking to an Egyptian and I’m finding it hard to understand them. Anyone from Iraq, to lebanon, to the khaleej… it’s not an issue. But once we go past Palestine to Egypt. It just gets hard.

Bear in mind I was born and bred in the UK.

My move up here was very impulsive due to my mental health issues. But I don’t regret it at all I love it up here! Best move I’ve ever made. And this city will always have a special place in my heart due to the support I’ve had from almost every scouser I’ve met. Including my therapist and care coordinator.

I have psychosis, I sent my mum hurtful messages because of the stuff she does. I said stuff to the effect of “I wouldn’t come to your funeral” “I hate you with a passion”

This is a letter I wrote on another post

“This is my first time ever talking about this to anyone. It was a big part of why I tried to overdose on paracetamol and antipsychotics in February.

My first addiction was porn which started at 12. 2 years later I developed a foot fetish and if you know what it’s like to have one, imagine looking at a pair of women’s feet and getting the same sexual reaction you’d get from looking at her private parts. It’s been a curse since day 1.

When I noticed how bad it was, I confessed it to my sister. After I did that, I noticed my mum started displaying her feet every time I was in the living room with her. And it was far from subtle. At the start it freaked the fuck out of me and I tried my best to fight any involuntary reaction I got from it. But me being a horny 14 year old, it was only a matter of time before I couldn’t fight it anymore.

Once I crossed that threshold, every time I’d be around my mum and she displays the soles of her feet in front of me, I get turned on. Despite that I still tried to fight it because I never wanted to be this way. I’d spend most of my time in my room just to avoid being around that nasty shit. If I had a penny for every time my late dad complained about why I never gave him any company. I always said it’s because of his drinking problem but really and truly my mum’s wicked ways was the only reason. I’ve been watching my dad sipping on his scotch since as long as I can remember and it never bothered me. That shit did.

I wish I didn’t have to deal with all that so I could’ve spent time with my dad. Who wasn’t perfect but had morals unlike my nasty mum. And I’ll explain how I know for a fact she’s been doing it intentionally to get that reaction out of me. And obviously I couldn’t do anything about it otherwise that would mean disclosing my fetish. And other than the one time I told my sister, I never told anyone about it. I was just too ashamed.

Now let’s talk about how I know for a fact my mum is doing this shit on purpose. You guys will probably think I’m an absolute scumbag for this and I don’t blame you because no one feels lower about me for this than myself. But About 6 years ago during covid I was smoking a lot of weed. Something compelled me to go up to her room and ask to massage her feet. I even took my phone out and started taking pics. At that point my mum just started acting traumatised as if she didn’t plant that seed in my head 4 years prior.

A year later, I almost died from a drug overdose. After I woke up my mum was always with me in the hospital. And as usual, she was teasing me like crazy. I even used my laptop to hide my view of her feet but she’d just move them to the side to make sure they’re visible. I even told her politely to put her feet down because it was making me uncomfortable. You’d think after the incident that happened the year before she’d understand my discomfort. But instead she said in a seductive tone “why? Is it because of my feet?” Before exchanging smiles with my sister.

So I have no reason to believe it’s all in my head. I fought this shit with all my power and I still do. Because my mum still does this shit to this day but thank god I live 200 miles away now. Around her I pretend to be a loving son but deep down I fucking despise the vile witch for the effect she had on my mind. The damage she has caused is irreversible. And if I can help it I’ll never introduce her to any kids I have. If that day ever comes. Because there’s no way I’m allowing her to have that same effect on my offspring.

I never disclosed it with her because again, that would mean talking about my fetish with my own mum. Maybe I should’ve contacted social services but what could they have done without any proof? What can anyone do without proof? She could easily say it’s all in my head and they’d have believed her. And of course I can’t speak to my therapist about that for that same reason.

I know, I’m a sick fuck. But this is the shit I gotta live with until god takes me back.”

So that’s why I sent those messages to her. As a result, She didn’t talk to me for over a month until this morning. I don’t know why I apologised but part of me felt bad. I explained to her that it’s my psychosis (even though I know in this instance, it’s not.) and I’m a different person during these episodes, she said “if you’re gonna apologise, just apologise and don’t make excuses”

To her I got psychosis when I bring up the stuff she was doing in the hospital and the stuff she does when I’m in the living room with her, but in situations like these, I’m completely sane and I’m making excuses. I’m not gonna say anything to her but I honestly dgaf anymore. I give up. We’ll talk every now and then but I’ll never set foot in her house again.

I have psychosis, I sent my mum hurtful messages because of the stuff she does. I said stuff to the effect of “I wouldn’t come to your funeral” “I hate you with a passion”

This is a post I made on another post

“This is my first time ever talking about this to anyone. It was a big part of why I tried to overdose on paracetamol and antipsychotics in February.

My first addiction was porn which started at 12. 2 years later I developed a foot fetish and if you know what it’s like to have one, imagine looking at a pair of women’s feet and getting the same sexual reaction you’d get from looking at her private parts. It’s been a curse since day 1.

When I noticed how bad it was, I confessed it to my sister. After I did that, I noticed my mum started displaying her feet every time I was in the living room with her. And it was far from subtle. At the start it freaked the fuck out of me and I tried my best to fight any involuntary reaction I got from it. But me being a horny 14 year old, it was only a matter of time before I couldn’t fight it anymore.

Once I crossed that threshold, every time I’d be around my mum and she displays the soles of her feet in front of me, I get turned on. Despite that I still tried to fight it because I never wanted to be this way. I’d spend most of my time in my room just to avoid being around that nasty shit. If I had a penny for every time my late dad complained about why I never gave him any company. I always said it’s because of his drinking problem but really and truly my mum’s wicked ways was the only reason. I’ve been watching my dad sipping on his scotch since as long as I can remember and it never bothered me. That shit did.

I wish I didn’t have to deal with all that so I could’ve spent time with my dad. Who wasn’t perfect but had morals unlike my nasty mum. And I’ll explain how I know for a fact she’s been doing it intentionally to get that reaction out of me. And obviously I couldn’t do anything about it otherwise that would mean disclosing my fetish. And other than the one time I told my sister, I never told anyone about it. I was just too ashamed.

That same year, we went to my uncle’s house and saw my cousin Tanya (not her real name). Bear in mind my sister and Tanya were inseparable when we were younger. So I know for a fact my sister told her too as well as my mum. Tanya started doing the same shit. Just like my mum, I tried my best to not let it affect me too much but I just couldn’t forever.

My mum was very quiet about it. But Tanya was very vocal. When we’d FaceTime each other she’d flip the camera, show me her feet, and say in a seductive tone “look at my feet and my toes”.

And Tanya’s sister, Lena (again, not her real name) she was the one who had the biggest effect on me. She’d rest her feet on my lap whilst watching movies. Initially I thought it was casual so I didn’t think anything of it. But a few years ago she started rubbing her feet against my leg. It’s not like it was subtle too it was very blatant. Obviously you can imagine I’d be hard as a rock by then. Against my will of course.

Now let’s talk about how I know for a fact my mum is doing this shit on purpose. You guys will probably think I’m an absolute scumbag for this and I don’t blame you because no one feels lower about me for this than myself. But About 6 years ago during covid I was smoking a lot of weed. Something compelled me to go up to her room and ask to massage her feet. I even took my phone out and started taking pics. At that point my mum just started acting traumatised as if she didn’t plant that seed in my head 4 years prior.

A year later, I almost died from a drug overdose. After I woke up my mum was always with me in the hospital. And as usual, she was teasing me like crazy. I even used my laptop to hide my view of her feet but she’d just move them to the side to make sure they’re visible. I even told her politely to put her feet down because it was making me uncomfortable. You’d think after the incident that happened the year before she’d understand my discomfort. But instead she said in a seductive tone “why? Is it because of my feet?” Before exchanging smiles with my sister.

So I have no reason to believe it’s all in my head. I fought this shit with all my power and I still do. Because my mum still does this shit to this day but thank god I live 200 miles away now. Around her I pretend to be a loving son but deep down I fucking despise the vile witch for the effect she had on my mind. The damage she has caused is irreversible. And if I can help it I’ll never introduce her to any kids I have. If that day ever comes. Because there’s no way I’m allowing her to have that same effect on my offspring.

I never disclosed it with her because again, that would mean talking about my fetish with my own mum. Maybe I should’ve contacted social services but what could they have done without any proof? What can anyone do without proof? She could easily say it’s all in my head and they’d have believed her. And of course I can’t speak to my therapist about that for that same reason.

I know, I’m a sick fuck. But this is the shit I gotta live with until god takes me back.”

She didn’t talk to me for over a month until this morning. I don’t know why I apologised but part of me felt bad. I explained to her that it’s my psychosis (even though I know in this instance, it’s not.) and I’m a different person during these episodes, she said “if you’re gonna apologise, just apologise and don’t make excuses”

To her I got psychosis when I bring up the stuff she was doing in the hospital and the stuff she does when I’m in the living room with her, but in situations like these, I’m completely sane and I’m making excuses. I’m not gonna say anything to her but I honestly dgaf anymore. I give up.

Best remix

A song that always makes me shed a tear

Im not planning on doing it now but I have a feeling I will very soon. I can feel it in my bones that I’m on the edge and I’m at my wits end. I’ve attempted three times in the last year and failed. The 2nd time I attempted I wrote a suicide note on the notes app and put it on my Instagram story. Which is why my mum who only gives a shit about her reputation and how having a son who committed suicide will make her look had the chance to call the ambulance and stopped me before the pills I swallowed did its job. But if I decide to go through with this again I’m gonna plan it meticulously and make sure there’s no chance I’ll survive again. I’ll write a letter on a piece of paper and put it on my bedside table and whatever method I choose to go with, I’ll make sure it’ll be fail proof.

On Tuesday I went to church for the third time for a deeper night event where we all gather around and sing hymns. There was an engaged lady sat next to me and when my emotions got too intense, out of excitement I put my hand on her shoulder and squeezed it a little and I noticed it made her uncomfortable. I want to clarify that I didn’t mean anything dodgy by doing this I was merely just expressing myself. And this is common for Iraqis like myself. But now her and her fiancé aren’t answering my messages and it’s driving me crazy because I feel like I’ve given them the wrong impression of me. I’m posting this here because I just want to know if I did a terrible thing at a British church. I sent her these messages just to clear the air.

Hey ###. I’ve been thinking about that moment where I gave you a pat on the shoulder in church on Tuesday and I noticed it made you quite uncomfortable. I just want to clarify I didn’t mean anything by it, that’s just how I am when my emotions are as intense as they were that night. I did the same thing to ## too haha

I just wanted to get this off my chest so there’s no tension next time I see you guys in church because honestly one of the biggest things that drew me in was the sense of community and I’d hate for that to be tainted.

Read my previous post for more information about my transition to Christianity. Today was my third time attending church for what the church calls “deeper night”. Where everyone gathers around and sings hymns.

At the end of the session, the pastor suggested any new members who felt something to come through and say their piece. So that’s what I did because I definitely felt something. But here’s the thing. I embellished a little when I said I really felt something. I have no idea why but that’s the stuff I do sometimes in those environments. The truth is I did my best to feel the stuff everyone around me was feeling.

When I’d look around me I’d see some people fall to their knees and break down, some people raise their hands with their eyes shut and I just know I’m not feeling what they’re feeling. But I did my best to.

But after I said my piece, the pastor asked people to surround me and pray for me. And whilst people had their hands on my shoulder and were saying prayers that’s when I felt something. I started trembling like crazy. And that’s when I was able to raise my hands and pray with conviction. But despite this I still don’t fully feel it.

Can anyone (especially ones who converted as an adult) tell me if that’ll change with time? Because I really want to commit to this.

I’m Iraqi born in the UK. My religious situation is complicated. My dad was anti religion but my mum was a faithful Muslim until my early teens. Half of my family are faithful Islam, the other half aren’t religious at all. I do have an uncle who embraced Christianity when he married his wife.

When I lived in lebanon during my childhood, I studied in a Maronite school where our headteachers were nuns. So Christianity isn’t something I’m unfamiliar with. But my whole life I always said I was a Muslim but I never fully committed to the religion.

Today however, my housemate invited me to go to church with him. I went solely to meet new people and find new friends. But listening to the pastor talk resonated with me a lot and I decided to take the religion in.

What I’m worried about is explaining to everyone that I’m now a Christian. The people in my family that aren’t religious won’t care, if anything they’ll be happy for me. But the people who are will. And when people from my background read my name they’ll know I was born a Muslim. What do I do about this? Because I still want to follow through with this. I’m just worried about the backlash.

Aside from this, The anxiety I’m currently feeling comes from a mix of guilt and the idea of me changing myself to become a Christian and I don't feel like I’ve fully taken in the religion. deep down I still feel like a Muslim but the more I look into people who've converted from Islam to Christianity the better of an idea it seems but I still can't shake this feeling.

Also, I just tried to pray to god the Christian way earlier and I just couldn't do it because I'm too used to praying to the Muslim God and that's very hard for me. But again, I do want to follow through with this.

I’m Iraqi born in the UK. My religious situation is complicated. My dad was anti religion but my mum was a faithful Muslim until my early teens. Half of my family are faithful Islam, the other half aren’t religious at all. I do have an uncle who embraced Christianity when he married his wife.

When I lived in lebanon during my childhood, I studied in a Maronite school where our headteachers were nuns. So Christianity isn’t something I’m unfamiliar with. But my whole life I always said I was a Muslim but I never fully committed to the religion.

Today however, my housemate invited me to go to church with him. I went solely to meet new people and find new friends. But listening to the pastor talk resonated with me a lot and I decided to take the religion in.

What I’m worried about is explaining to everyone that I’m now a Christian. The people in my family that aren’t religious won’t care, if anything they’ll be happy for me. But the people who are will. And when people from my background read my name they’ll know I was born a Muslim. What do I do about this? Because I still want to follow through with this. I’m just worried about the backlash.

Edit: is there any advice you guys can give me as a new convert? Anything I need to know as a new Christian?

Im dealing with first episode psychosis and possibly other mental health conditions that I haven’t been diagnosed for. And a toxic friend who I’m no longer seeing has had a crazy effect on me. He has BPD so he can be very toxic, manipulative and just volatile. If I do something that irritates him such as not finishing a story, or being indecisive, he’ll give me an earful.

He just wouldn’t stop talking about it and the stuff he says really gets in your head. Bear in mind one of these outbursts is enough to ruin my day and drive me to suicidal thoughts. And I’ve already had 3 in one day. So I snapped and started punching myself in the face, hitting my head against the wall and screaming. As we were in front of his mums house, he asked me to calm down so I don’t wake his family up.

I said “I don’t care” out of anger. Normally I would’ve. So he just pushed me and went “go home then”. When I got home I apologised to him on the phone and he said “you disrespected me and my family, and I can’t stand for that. So our friendship is over”. And I blocked him, got two kitchen knives and started cutting myself, one of them just left burn marks from the friction, the other one, since it has grooves in the blade, managed to cut me but not enough to cut a vein. I’ve never felt like that in my life and I’m not speaking to him again even if he does forgive me. And I don’t think I need his forgiveness anyway since he pushed me over the edge.

Now, two days later, I just feel a mix of regret for letting it get to that point, embarrassment for the way I reacted, depression from the breakdown aftershocks, and physical pain from the punching and cutting. I also feel quite depressed. I have to force myself to eat due to low appetite and I haven’t got the energy to shower.

Also, hearing his voice in my head triggers a traumatic response because as you can imagine, I was being poked and prodded the whole day by him.