u/Optimal-Resident-881

I’m so sick of hearing other people say, and even convincing myself that the type of sex and intimacy in books and media is “unrealistic.” If it can be thought of, it can be done/had.

I’m a straight woman in her mid 20s. I live in a very rural area of, for lack of better words, simple minded people. Not saying everyone is like that, but it seems the world in general is very closed minded when it comes to intimacy, so that’s multiplied by 100000 when you live in a place like I do.

What do I mean? What people find “hot” is generally this: clean, neat, porn-esque, pretty faces, pretty noises, waxed bare, easily attained orgasms, jack rabbiting, and doggy style and a slap on the ass is considered the pinnacle of kinky.

This has always been the baseline, and again, I’m being redundant I know, but living in an area like I do, the chance of meeting someone I’m attracted to who actually craves REAL intimacy like I do, is slim to none. And yes, I’ve given it a chance. Yes, I put myself out there. And yes, everyone I meet thinks a quick 5 minute fuck with no pre or post “stuff” is the hottest thing in the world and they are content with just that. In fact, a lot of people think anything beyond that is awkward or unattractive or a turn off.

What do I mean? I mean, I, for once in my life, want to have sex with someone who completely takes me out of my head. For me, sex has always been a performance. I still enjoy it, but I prefer reading about it and, when I can find a good example of it, watching it. The entire time, I’m performing. I’m chubby so this just adds an extra layer of insecurity to it all.

The entire, and I mean the ENTIRE time, my head is consumed with: did I miss a spot shaving? Do I look too fat? Am I making a weird noise? Oh no that felt really good so I’m probably making an unsexy face, I hope I taste okay, I hope I smell okay, oh no that was a weird noise that came out of my when he moved me, I probably won’t be able to get off and he’s going to be annoyed at that, etc etc etc.

Meanwhile, his part in this has been: minimal foreplay, the foreplay being the same recycled motions he’s done on every other woman because he doesn’t understand that women are different and what works for one doesn’t work for another, he thinks saying “good girl” one time makes him Christian Grey, he thinks jackhammering me and pulling on my tit to the point of severe discomfort is sexy, he finishes and says “that was great” and wants to shower immediately because the sweat and whatever else is gross to him.

I want someone to desire me so much, to express that desire verbally and physically, to the point where all I can think is what I’m /feeling./ More so than that, I want him to desire me more (and SHOW me that desire) when I respond to his actions in ways that “aren’t sexy,” in a traditional sense. I want something animalistic and filled with want and emotion. I don’t want to perform. I don’t want the thoughts of “oh no am I xyz” to even have an opportunity to enter my head. I don’t want to hide my face or my noises, I don’t want to stifle my bodily reactions because “I might look weird.” I don’t want to get embarrassed about choking and my nose running when I give head, I don’t want to feel embarrassed about what I smell or taste like or how smooth I am. I want a man to be so attracted to and obsessed with me that every reaction my body has makes him want to rip me apart with his teeth, and then immediately put me back together and take care of me while I come back into my head. I want a man to want to inhale me, to lick sweat off of me, to think every “unsexy” part of me is the most arousing thing he’s ever experienced.

But, I’m either not that desirable, and/or that’s too deep for everyone. Sex seems to be very surface level for everyone I meet but for me it’s not and I’m always left needing more and I cannot find it no matter where I look. To clarify, I think the type of sex I described should be bare minimum. I personally don’t think it’s some insane, deep concept, but, maybe it’s the porn, maybe it’s the generation, maybe it’s my geographical location, maybe I just haven’t found the right person, but to everyone else it seems to be an insane idea. That sex can be, and is, more than just a physiological act of putting something inside of a hole. Ugh.

I apologize in advance for how entitled or dramatic I may sound, or the language used. This is not who I am. But I cannot express this version of myself anywhere else because it’s embarrassing, and it’s scary. The pure rage I feel and the things I want to do are scaring me. This has turned me into some kind of monster, someone or something I don’t recognize. And I don’t even know if I have cancer yet. If you knew what I’ve been through, my personal experience with cancer, as well as just the rest of the things I’ve been through for being as young as I am, you might understand why I’m spiraling so bad. My feelings have been exacerbated by the fact that RIGHT before I found out I needed a biopsy because my birads was a 4C (not a single doctor told me what that meant or WHY I was given that score despite not even having a mass, I only have architectural distortion which isn’t even prominent enough to show up on an ultrasound, so of course I found out on my own from the internet that that pretty much translates to yeah, you more than likely cancer), I stopped taking Zoloft. I’ve been on it since I was 13 probably. But I am now acting out in my dreams to the point of hurting myself, catastrophically. My doctor and I suspect it’s a sleep disorder caused by prolonged SSRI use. So, I stopped it to see if this is the cause for my sleep. The things I do in my sleep could potentially be life threatening, so, until I know for a fact whether or not the SSRIs are causing it, I can’t just get back on the meds. Unfortunately, when I’m not on Zoloft, my nerves become like a live wire. I become enraged over very small things, and my anxiety turns into anger because of how frustrated I am. This, in combination with being scared to death of having cancer, has turned me into something else.

I honestly feel like I’m going to die before I get my results. It’s been over a week and no one can fucking tell me anything. I don’t have results, I don’t have an idea of when the fuck I’m going to get the results, and no one can tell me where I’m at “in line” to get my biopsy fucking looked at. And now it’s Friday. The office closes in 9 goddamn minutes. Which means I have to wait an entire fucking weekend, AT LEAST. My chest has felt like I have an elephant sitting on me for the past few days. I mean that literally. I feel like I’m on the verge of a heart attack or a stroke. I can’t wait a second longer. I can’t do this. I’m getting violent. I feel like some kind of rabid animal. I want to hurt anything and anyone in my path because why the fuck is it taking so long god fucking damn it someone please just put me out of my misery and tell me whether the fuck I have cancer or not. This has taken years off my life already, the stress of all of this. I don’t think I’ll make it through the weekend not knowing. I literally feel like my body is going to give out at any moment if someone doesn’t fucking tell me something right fucking now. My entire life has been nothing but hell, and I’m only 26 years old. And now I out of nowhere have a birads score of 4C. I don’t even have a fucking mass, just architectural distortion only. And no doctor has talked to me. They won’t fucking tell me anything. They won’t tell me why, according to the score, I’m 50-95% likely to have cancer. No one fucking talked to me about it they just sent me off to have a biopsy with no explanation of why they seem to be so sure it’s cancer. I can’t breathe. I was spiraling at first, and then I was fine for a bit, but now that I’m yet again on a fucking hold, a DEFINITE HOLD for the entire weekend, AT LEAST, I just can’t take it. The anxiety has turned into rage. I feel so helpless. There’s nothing I can do to make them hurry the fuck up. There’s nothing I can do to put myself out of my misery. I don’t even know if anything I’m typing makes sense.

I’ve really been trying to get my life together. I really have. But I swear to fuck, every single time I start healing or commit to better habits or try to be better at whatever it is, something happens. Congrats to everyone who has it in them to better themselves anyway in the midst of their issues. But I just can’t.

I can’t remember a stretch of time in my life where something wasn’t crashing and burning. Since I could remember, every few months someone I love dies. Someone I love gets cancer. Someone I thought I was going to marry abandoned me without giving me any reason or closure. I lost my career due to an injury that will continue to give me problems for the rest of my life. I lost my soul dog. My best friend is in an abusive relationship that she can’t escape and I wake up every day wondering if he’s killed her yet.

Since October of last year I’ve been heavily (heavily for me, anyway) drinking, I started smoking, I smoke weed regularly as well which I only used to do occasionally. I spend money I don’t have. I don’t have the motivation to do the things I need to do.

But recently I started to heal from the loss and the absolute betrayal I experienced. I finally had it in me to say, no more drinking or smoking, I’m gonna get my shit back together.

But guess what? I found out this week that I most likely have cancer!! And when I say most likely, I mean, they’re damn near positive I have it just by looking at it. I have a BI-RADS score of 4C which means I have over a 50%-95% chance of having cancer!! And the cherry on top is I’m only 26 years old. I don’t have kids yet, I’ve never been close to getting married, and depending on how severe the cancer is (because let’s face it, the doctors are pretty fucking sure it’s cancer, so it’s not an “if” at this point), I may never have any of that. Even if I don’t die, I’m going to have to take medication that fucks up my hormones so that the cancer doesn’t grow/come back. So I can go ahead and look forward to no libido, a dry fucking pussy, hot flashes, feeling like an elderly woman when I haven’t even had a chance to be loved by anyone yet. That may very well mean I can’t have kids. I wasn’t sure if I wanted them anyway but now it isn’t my choice. I might lose a tit or both of them. Yeah I’ll probably survive, and that’s the important part, but god damn it I’m allowed to be angry that if (WHEN) this comes back as malignant, I’m going to go from 26 to 60 overnight. I might literally be in my 20s but I might as well not be. I’m going to be dried up literally and figuratively. I’m not bashing aging women, I think aging is a beautiful thing and it’s a privilege but fucking forgive me if I’m not ready for my body to look and feel like I’ve pressed a fast forward 40 years button.

Every. God. Fucking. Damn. Time. I make the conscious decision to start getting my shit together, to start living better, I get knocked down and kicked and spit on. So what’s the fucking point? Why should I stop drinking? Why should I stop smoking? Why should I eat healthy? Why should I do anything besides whatever the fuck I want even if it’s bad for me? It’s become very clear to me that I am never EVER going to get a fucking break in this godforsaken life of mine so what does it matter? I can’t think of a good reason why I shouldn’t keep doing what I have been doing, and shit, even WORSE things!! Why the fuck not? I wish I was exaggerating. I really fucking wish I was. I have not had more than a week of peace, ever in my life. Always something to fucking worry about. And now this. I cannot win. I have never won. I never will.

I keep looking it up and I can’t get a clear answer as to why my mammogram results said I had a bi-rads score of 4C. I don’t have a lump, I don’t have any masses, I only have architectural distortion.

They found the AD in January and said it was most likely fine, but to come back in 6 months just to be sure.

I come back a couple days ago and now it’s a 4C??? Most likely cancer?? I don’t understand. I looked at my scans side by side from January and July and I don’t see a difference!! How is it that in January I was fine and now that same spot, which looks the exact same to me, is over 50 percent to 95 percent likely to be cancer?? How is that even determined? What makes mine a 4C and not a 4A or even a 4B??? I don’t understand and I’m so angry. I can’t find anything that tells me WHY. The doctor didn’t talk to me, they just sent me away with an appointment for a biopsy and I looked at the results on MyChart.

I haven’t had the biopsy yet but why the fuck am I a 4C? It doesn’t make any sense to me and everything I search might as well tell me “yeah a 4C is pretty much definitely malignant”

I’m spiraling. I’m only 26 years old. I don’t understand. I’m so angry.

Hi all, just wanted to come on here and share what’s happening with me in hopes to find some comfort. I know that statistics and other’s personal experiences don’t determine my own, but it’s nice to hear from other women who have maybe had a similar experience.

I’m 26 years old. I do regular self checks as well as yearly breast exams from my gyno, and I have no lumps or visible changes. I do however, have very noticeable (at least to me) asymmetry. I know pretty much all women have some degree of asymmetry, but mine is a half to a full cup size difference. Or at least it seems that way to me. The left breast being the larger of the two.

My mother has had (and beat!!) breast cancer twice. A different type in each breast. Her mother also had breast cancer, and passed from it. My aunt on my mom’s side has had cervical cancer (might not be that relevant, but I like to include that because it is a female cancer). So, to be safe, my gyno scheduled a mammogram. I have not had the BRCA gene test, that’s next on my list to get done.

So in January of this year (2026) I had a mammogram on each breast. The left breast, the larger one which I was concerned about because of the size, was completely normal. But the right breast looked suspicious so they followed up with an ultrasound. Once the DR had looked at the ultrasound, he said it didn’t look like anything, but to come back in 6 months to see if there were any changes.

Fast forward to today (July 2026) I had a mammogram on the right breast only. I expected to be told it was all good. But the tech came back in and had already put me on the schedule for a biopsy next week. I wasn’t told anything, really, except that they’re going to do a biopsy and leave in a marker that will show any growth/changes in the future. They didn’t do a follow up ultrasound like last time either.

I didn’t do this last time, but this time I looked at the report on mychart. I quickly started googling and nearly threw up when I found out that I’m categorized as BI-RADS 4C and the chances of it being cancer are pretty high. The suspicion is of an architectural distortion. I have no lump, no mass, no outside appearance that looks suspicious. And quite frankly, when I compare the circled area on the January scan to the scan today, it doesn’t look any different? I expected it to have changed or grown a lot since January for them to immediately want a biopsy, but I’ve studied it and I don’t see much, if any, change in it at all.

I have so many thoughts and questions. I have absolutely no other indications/symptoms of breast cancer so what makes me a 4C?? Is it because of my family history? How is that score even determined? I mean, for it to be a 50-95% chance of cancer, I’d expect some obvious symptoms/appearances. But I have absolutely none. I would have never even had a mammogram this early if it weren’t for the largeness of the OTHER breast. I do self checks regularly and I have really really felt in there, and there is nothing. So why are my results worded as though I pretty much definitely have cancer? Again, how is that even determined?

I mean, be honest, is it realistic to believe that this may NOT be cancer? If so, how realistic? I’m definitely on the more realistic/pessimistic side because of everything that has happened in my life. I want to be hopeful but I’m so scared that, like everything else, I’m gonna get bad news and I’ll be sitting here telling myself “I should’ve known, with those statistics it was stupid of me to get my hopes up that I was okay.”

I don’t want to just decide that I’m probably sick. But at the same time, if I force myself to be optimistic and then get the bad news, which according to statistics seems VERY likely to be bad news, I’m going to feel like I got punched in the face.

I’m scared. I’m angry. I want to be optimistic but the stats don’t look good. And, not to be THAT person, but me and the people I love have never been the outliers. We don’t beat the odds, we’re not the 5% that gets a good medical report, we don’t get the good news. If the odds are bad, we tend to be on that side of things.

I thought I was going to be in and out of my appointment today with a simple “yep everything still looks okay, must’ve just been fatty tissue,” but instead I left with bad news. Yet again. I just feel so defeated. I know I sound annoying and “woe is me” but if you knew me personally you’d understand.

I know I haven’t had the biopsy yet, but the chances of this being cancer are pretty high and I’m just so angry about it. I’ve barely started my life. What if I don’t have much of a life left to make?

I’m sorry for being a downer and a pessimist. I’m just so, ugh I don’t even have the words. I’m so scared and so angry.

I have a genuine question and I feel like asking this on literally any other platform would get me skinned alive.

First and foremost, Emmett Till was wrongfully murdered. His murder was an act of pure hatred, pure racism, and I am and always have been absolutely horrified and disgusted at what was done to him.

My question is, and this might be a rhetorical question I suppose, his body looked like that because of the bloat, no? His mother requested for his casket to be open so that the public could see what those demons did to her son. For the longest time I was absolutely dumbfounded at the state of him. I thought, my god, the things they must have done to make him look like THAT.

Again, they DID do horrible things to him, and I am in no way downplaying that nor will I ever. But when I learned that his body was in the water for 3 days before being recovered, I assume that that was the main reason for him looking that way.

Do you think his mother and/or the public thought he looked that way because of being beaten so badly? He was beaten, and I have no doubt that he was swollen and possibly disfigured before they put him in the water. But from what I know about water decomp and bloating, I assume that’s why he’s so disfigured and swollen, not necessarily due to his injuries. I feel like if they had found him moments after, instead of days after, he would’ve looked very different. I’ve just noticed that the general consensus is that he was so swollen BECAUSE of his injuries, but to me it looks like most of his appearance is due to the decomp/bloat/being in the water.

Hi all! I’m 26F and for the past couple of years I have experienced what seems like REM Sleep Behavior Disorder.

When I roll over in bed in my sleep, I’ll often open my eyes for a second and think I see something there. Spiders, another person, mice, etc. and I stare at it/touch it until my mind finally comprehends that it is not in fact there. Often times it’s a corner of a bunched up pillow or a fold in the sheet that I am perceiving as something else, but every now and then it is just straight up me seeing something that isn’t there.

But my biggest problem is acting out in my sleep. It’s so hard to explain because I only sort of remember what I was dreaming/seeing as I start to act out. I have injured myself BADLY multiple times, hitting my head, bruising my brow bone, and my last episode I landed on my elbow so hard that I split open an old scar from a surgery, and I am 99% certain I gave myself a hairline fracture.

When I “fall” out of bed, I am not falling. I am, for some reason, purposely leaping out of bed. Usually, what I am dreaming or imagining in my mind is something like a child or a pet falling off of my bed, and needed to leap and grab it quickly. But sometimes the circumstances that I am dreaming/imagining aren’t even scary like that. During my most recent episode, I don’t remember the actual dream, but I know that I was sitting in a golf cart and it all of a sudden went off the curb of whatever sidewalk/road I was on, and in my dream it caused me to fall with the cart, and as that was happening I realized I was falling, more like leaping, out of bed, coinciding with the movements I was experiencing in my dream. I quickly got back up and laid in bed and felt a rush of pain in my elbow, I felt it and it was soaking wet. Blood all over the room. I fell HARD. Like I said, I split an old scar open and I’d bet money that I have a hairline fracture.

I’ve been to my PCP for this, and I was prescribed Prazosin, but I have yet to see a sleep doctor or a neurologist because to my knowledge, I don’t do this every night. I definitely don’t do the physical stuff every night, because when I do I always hurt myself and I would remember if I did it every night. The visions of spiders, mice, etc. I do more often, but, since my eyes are open and I eventually come to reality, it is also something I remember doing the next day.

So, to my knowledge I don’t have these episodes every night. Because of this, a sleep study would be pointless because I’d have to do one every night until there was activity. So I’d like to get a camera and record my sleeping and gather enough footage to show to a doctor to hopefully get an answer that way.

Does anyone here have a camera on them when they sleep? If so, I need recommendations! Something I can watch back and save footage from, something with good night vision and audio, preferably something that logs movement so that when I rewatch the footage I have a guide of when it captured activity instead of having to watch the entire tape. The easier the setup, the better! I just want to be able to set it up and connect it to my phone and basically have everything available at my fingertips.

Any tips, camera recommendations, etc. would be greatly appreciated! Thank you so much!!

Is there any cause of death that interests you the most? I don’t mean it’s your “favorite,” but it’s the one you’re just drawn to in terms of research, pictures, videos?

Mine is car crashes. I’m simultaneously terrified to die in one (or die, period) but I also am always interested in seeing pictures or videos of them. I don’t find any satisfaction in it but it’s very interesting to me if that makes sense. But at the same time I imagine myself looking that way and it scares me to death. Seeing families find out their loved one was in a crash makes me picture how my mother would react with that same news. I hate it but I also have a weird pull to the pictures and videos of it. Same with the driving PSAs. I’m watching the red asphalt videos right now and again, like I said I don’t feel any joy or pleasure from seeing this, it actually devastates me to see a human being in that state, but I’m always curious to see them anyway.

It is so hard for me to manifest, because my mind is always spinning with a million different things at once. I’m constantly thinking of anything and everything all at once, even when I’m not manifesting. It’s like a tornado of thoughts.

When I try the visualization method, I can BARELY stay focused on setting the scene I’m visualizing, and in those fleeting moments where I’m super locked in, my mind goes into a frenzy like “omg you’re doing it, don’t let your mind wander stay focused!” And that thought is what makes my mind take off in a different direction.

Also, from what I understand, part of manifesting (or all of it) is believing that you already have what you want. I can tell myself that I have the thing I want over and over, but I cannot trick my brain into believing something that isn’t there. It’s hard to trick my mind and body into believing I have something when I know for a fact I don’t.

Any advice would be appreciated!!