One thing I always wanna ask my dad why her and not me what was so special about my step sister that he stayed and took/taking care of her,what did she do? Was she born with a halo and I wasn't or did I cry too much and she didn't what did I do that he abandoned me?
Why did he stay for her and didn't stay for me?
Why did he love me and not me? So many questions but no answers.
WHY HER AND NOT ME?
Family
Dear Friend,
I'm writing to you today as a struggling single mother, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of mental and financial stress. Every day, I wake up with a sense of uncertainty, wondering how I'll make ends meet and provide for my family.
The pressure to be everything to everyone is crushing me. I'm the sole breadwinner, caregiver, and emotional support system. I'm exhausted, both physically and mentally. The anxiety and fear of the unknown are constant companions, making it hard to sleep at night.
Despite my best efforts, I feel like I'm drowning in debt, bills, and responsibilities. The stress is taking a toll on my relationships, my health, and my overall well-being. I feel like I'm losing myself in the process.
But even in the midst of all this chaos, I'm trying. I'...
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Open Letter to the Public:
For the past 11 years, from 2011 until the present day, I have been living with my brother, and the experience has been nothing short of a living nightmare. What was meant to be a supportive living arrangement has instead become a constant source of abuse, manipulation, and utter despair. I am writing this open letter to the public in the hopes of finding a way out of this torturous situation and to shed light on the plight that I have been facing.
Staying with my brother has not only caused me a severe mental breakdown but has also made me hate living. With every passing minute, I find myself silently praying that I could trade my life for someone who has just passed away. The mental and emotional anguish that I have endured over the years is truly...
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Meu nome é Robson sinta se especial por estar prestes a conhecer a minha história, estou escrevendo está carta porquê eu definitivamente preciso colocar meus sentimentos e minhas lembranças de uma vez só para fora,
Antes de tudo eu vou começar contando um pouco sobre mim e minha vida.
Eu sou um adolescente de 15 anos que é bem esperto, gosta bastante de escrever cartas abertas, Ama finalizar o cabelo e se arrumar para sair. Minha família nasceu no Pernambuco, viemos para São Paulo por volta de 2012 em um ônibus que para chegar aqui demorou 3 dias, quando cheguei em São Paulo eu era muito pequeno, uma criança inocente que não tinha noção de nada como qualquer outra, quando chegamos em São Paulo minha mãe e meu pai alugaram uma casa que ficava em um quintal com muitos outros vizinhos,...
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Hi! I don't know what to write. I wanted to do some typing my intrusive thoughts.
So, hello dear I, it's kind of fudging life. I love my family; it is my treasure. But siblings are problematic. As the eldest child, having a disability need a special care. But little sister really needs one. She is a theft, a troublemaker, no one's trust her, she might feel she's unloved by her family because of this. But I do love her. But I need to correct her so she will grow up beautifully and proud. She is a pretty girl. My three little sisters are all beautiful. They are smart. But even my mother won't support my plan, I'll try. I want her to know her lesson. It's so tiring to see my family worrying and getting angry to her and to their self because of her.
Why? What is the reason why? She...
1,578
Dear Young Parents,
Embarking on the beautiful journey of parenthood brings a cascade of emotions, responsibilities, and countless joys. Amidst the diaper changes, feeding sessions, and gentle cradles, there lies a subtle, yet profoundly impactful element - the sweet melodies of lullabies.
Lullabies have been a timeless tradition, gently traversing through generations, weaving a tapestry of comfort, love, and security for our little ones. These melodic tunes are not merely songs but are vessels that carry the warmth of your voice, the tenderness of your touch, and the infinite love that burgeons in your heart.
The gentle rhythms and soft melodies of lullabies serve as a serene bridge between wakefulness and sleep, guiding your baby into a peaceful slumber. But beyond this,...
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Can you imagine?
Falling in love. The love you needed after many years of not being good enough, abuse, trauma, what have you. The best love. The love you know is there until the end.
Can you imagine?
Something interrupts that love, something overbearing that fights your happiness at every turn. A demon, that isn’t yours, wants to make itself yours, and then there’s… a child.
A child you love like your own.
Can you imagine?
You’re not supposed to love this child like your own. You’re here to be a character, made to be evil by those who aren’t with you each day.Many will traumatize you until you, kicking and screaming, learn your place.
Can you imagine?
Holidays are supposed to be a time of peace, love, and family. But you’re not welcome. You’re destined for a life of...
1,112
It kills me to write this. I’m a mess. I’m actually going to die when I didn’t have to.
The 22nd is Thursday and I doubt the judge will give us more time, even though we should not be evicted in the first place. But, when you don’t have money for an attorney, you’re done in the court.
No one will rent to us because the inventory of homes is so limited that landlords can choose people with perfect credit and without disabilities, so that’s exactly what they’re doing. That’s definitely not us. I’m sure you could imagine what these medical problems did to our finances.
We don’t have any family so we won’t have anywhere to go. Shelters are full, but we’re on a waiting list. I can’t be by a lot of people with my immune deficiency anyhow, but it would be good if my daughter and husband...
1,865
Hi mom, how are you? How is life treating you? I'm doing just fine, you would know that if you bothered to call every once in awhile. But I get it, you are busy raising 2 other kids and your friends' kids. I love how you could be a mother to everyone except me. You missed my first words, first steps, even kindergarten graduation. You missed my first school dance, My first heartbreak, my first car. I'm in college now. And for some reason, while I was doing schoolwork, you popped into my head. I wish I could make you feel how you made me feel. Unwanted, left in the cold, unloved. I could not string enough words together in a sentence for you to understand my hatred for you. I don't understand how someone who calls themselves a mother could abandon her first born but be present for the rest...
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Dear Oakley,
When you take the opportunity to read this someday, you will know that you are receiving my last open letter that I will ever write because you are my final child. I hope you really enjoy what I was feeling about your welcoming when this was written. I hope that we can eventually have a laugh together to see how right or wrong I was when I wrote this for you.
At this point, I am a seasoned veteran as a father. I have the dad thing down, but I know I have much to learn with you being my first and only daughter. I have been forewarned that little girls always have their dad wrapped around their little finger. I am so ready to find out if this is true when I meet you. I promise to protect you, but hopefully not be too overprotective. The one thing I can guarantee is...
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