u/Minimum_Anything2771

I met my partner 6 years ago, when I was recovering from a major accident. He came to meet me at rehab through a Tinder match. Things clicked for both is and decided to give it a go. He supported me through out recovery, i could never expect such care and support from a sibling, let alone someone who I didn't know months ago. We stayed apart for 2 years during college and relocated/found jobs in same city. We had everything going on great between us, we used to travel, party out together, do chores together, rented appartment together, bought a car and adopted a dog together.

After 3-4 years we started having small disagreements, slowly those disagreements became big fight, now we are in a situation where we don't have a day when we don't fight crazily. We only talk to each other about things that needs to be done other than that there is only silence and even than we fight.

I know he is not cheating, he is infront of my eyes 24/7 as we both work from home. He is there to support me for everything but somehow it feels more like a duty towards each other and not love. I have tried talking about it but it leads to more fight.

I feel like I am loosing myself and locking myself in a box in order to pacify things

Please guide me, how should I deal with it. This relation is very precious to me

I've spent most of my life watching my father verbally and physically abuse my mother. I remember the bruises, the screaming, and the humiliation in front of relatives, friends, and strangers. I even witnessed my mother attempt to take her own life. Those experiences affected me so deeply that, years later, I would sometimes hear his voice screaming at her even when I was far away.

My father had suffered a lot himself. He left home as a teenager to support his family, worked difficult jobs, and was exploited and hurt by people around him. But instead of dealing with that pain, he took it out on me and mother. I never really understood his love for me. There were times he made me feel supported and cared for, he never neglected his financial responsibility towards us. With however much he earned, he always made sure that we had food, home, education. But on other time he made me feel it's not worth living. He would beat me and my mom, abuse in front of everyone. Even when I was hit by a car which left me disabled, I first thing I heard after opening my eyes in hospital was him shouting at me and my mom for how it was our fault that this happened to me and how we have ruined his life.

After my rehabilitation, I left for postgraduate studies and eventually became financially independent. I asked my mother to live with me instead of taking on his abuse. For the first time, I felt that with my work money, we had the ability to walk away from the situation. Still he would call us and scream over things we had no relation to. During COVID, he became seriously ill and spent two weeks alone in the hospital with no one around him. He recovered, became a bit calmer, maybe realising he doesn't have any power over us anymore. It's been about four years now, and I haven't seen the explosive anger that defined so much of my childhood. We all talk and meet on holidays but he lives alone and my mom still lives with me and I think it's for the good.

I haven't forgotten what happened, and I don't think I ever will. But I've slowly started forgiving him—not because what he did was okay, but because carrying that hatred for my entire life was exhausting.

What still confuses me is that I love him.

Maybe that's the complicated reality of abuse. Someone can hurt you deeply and still be someone you love. Understanding the reasons behind someone's behaviour doesn't excuse it, and forgiving someone doesn't mean what they did wasn't wrong.

Ever since I can remember, I watched my father verbally abuse and physically assault my mother. I still remember the bruises left by his punches and slaps, and the humiliation we endured in front of friends, relatives, and even complete strangers. I saw my mother attempt to take her own life, and there came a point when I would hear phantom whispers of him screaming at her even when I was over 100 miles away. That was how deeply those memories had become etched into me.

My father didn't have an easy life himself. Around the age of 17, he left home to earn money and support his family. In the city, he could only find manual labor. He was exploited by people around him, including members of his own family, and was often discarded when he was no longer useful. By the time my mother entered his life, he had already accumulated years of anger, resentment, and pain. Instead of healing, he treated her like a punching bag—a target for every frustration he had carried for years.

The confusing part is that he loved me. He never hit me or abused me. He tried to give me everything I wanted and did his best to fulfill my wishes. But none of that could erase what I saw him do to my mother. I loved him as my father, but I hated him for the husband he was.

When I was 21, I was involved in a serious accident that left me permanently using a wheelchair. After that, his attitude toward me became increasingly complicated. Sometimes he would scream at me and blame me for what had happened, as if my disability were somehow my fault. At the same time, he continued to pay my medical bills and support my treatment. I couldn't understand him, and I couldn't keep living in that environment.

As soon as I completed my rehabilitation, I left home to pursue my postgraduate studies. Eventually, I received a good job offer and built a life away from him. I asked my mother to come and live with me. As I became financially independent, I slowly started distancing myself from my father. For the first time, my mother and I had the ability to walk away instead of enduring everything in silence. Ironically, losing that control over us seemed to change something in him. He became calmer and, little by little, more understanding.

Then COVID happened. He contracted the virus and spent two weeks alone in the hospital. Because of the lockdown, we couldn't travel to see him, and there was no one to be with him. He barely survived. When he came back, he seemed like a different person.

In the last four years, I haven't seen the explosive anger that defined so much of my childhood. Instead, I've seen someone who genuinely tries to help both my mother and me whenever he can. Over these years, I haven't forgotten what he did. I don't think I ever will. But I have slowly started to forgive him—not because what happened was acceptable, but because carrying that hatred forever was exhausting.

What confuses me is that, despite everything, I still love him. Maybe it's because, in his own deeply flawed way, he was still there for us. He made sure we never went hungry, paid for my treatment after my accident, and never abandoned us financially.

If anyone from India who drives a car with hand controls is part of this group, please message me or comment below.

I have many questions and no one to answer them. I want to buy a car and get it registered as an adaptive vehicle. But all the dealers I have been to straight up denied that they don't execute registration of adaptive vehicles

So on my project I went way deeper on one workstream than what was actually asked. We were only supposed to do a high-level analysis, but I figured putting together a more detailed deep dive would look good and show initiative.

Fast forward to Thursday, we had the client readout. The whole team was supposed to be on a shadow call while our SM and Partner handled the presentation. Except the SM couldn’t get audio working, so the shadow call basically never happened. Nobody knew what feedback or action items came out of the meeting, and she never bothered sending notes afterward either.

Then Friday was my birthday. Work was pretty dead all day, so I made dinner plans with my parents. Right as I’m about to log off around 6 PM, my SM pings me asking for supporting materials tied to that deep dive because apparently the client showed interest and it could potentially lead to more follow-on work.

The ask itself was probably 3-4 hours of work. Fine. I figured I’d crank it out quickly and still make dinner, but then she started messaging me literally every 5 minutes asking for status updates because she was trying to leave for some weekend trip.

I somehow finished everything around 8 and sent it over. Then she wanted all the files reorganized in a specific format so she could review them from her phone while traveling. Did that too. Then as I’m heading out the door, she keeps sending edits every few minutes. I asked if we could just hop on a quick call to speed things up and she said no because she was “dealing with family stuff.”

Ended up wrapping everything around 10 PM, sent the final files, and turned my phone off.

By the time I got downstairs my parents had already eaten dinner without me. We just went out for ice cream instead and called it a night.

Honestly made me question why I bothered going above and beyond in the first place.

I consulted at 1mg obesity management to get me started on semaglutide. The Doctor said I can opt for Indian genric but ended up prescribing wegovy in the papers, with line "substitution applicable". I was confused if I should order or not and thus kept semaglyn in my cart. I got a call from 1mg order mgmt team and the person approved the order even though it was a wegovy prescription, I told him I will pay and then only process it because I was still making up my mind but it got processed on COD and I had to cancel it.

2 days later I decided I should order a smaller quantity to be on the safer side and ordered Semasize but now they were saying they cannot process the order on a Wegovy prescription. So I edited the PDF prescription that I got from 1mg to a summer size prescription and they processing it.

Bit illegal but I don't care

My mom is 51, with many health issues - High Cholesterol, High BP, Hypothyroid, Weak digestion, and spine slip disc.

All doctors suggest loosing weight but conventional route is not helpful with her thyroid issues. Asked few doctors to refer or prescribe GLP treatments but they all say try conventional route first or simply don’t listen.

I am asking you all to suggest some good doctors for her and if there anything she needs to be careful due to her existing like her digestive issues.

We do not want to land up in a worse situation. Are there any risk with this treatment when you have such health issues