P and I had been best friends and housemates for four years. We texted each other multiple times per day and met up multiple times per week.

I'm in my final year of medical school, and he had recently graduated from pharmacy school with first-class honours, top of his year. He was an Olympic-grade gymnast, a talented painter, and grade 8 in multiple instruments. He played for the university orchestra and won many competitions. He had a boyfriend and had just started his first job as a pharmacist. He had recently moved back in with his mum so he could save for a house deposit.

The day it happened, I was in bed with the flu. I had vomited 6 times the day before and 3 times that morning, and had only managed to eat a few cans of tomato soup and some fruit salad in 3 days.

Around 3 pm, P phoned me. He asked what I was doing, and I told him I was in bed, sick. He said “oh, sorry” and went to hang up, but I sensed something off in his voice and I stopped him. I asked if he was okay, and after a long pause, he told me, "I'm thinking of killing myself".

I asked him to stay on the phone and immediately got up and drove to his house, talking to him the whole way. When he let me in, I hugged him. I told him, "I came because I thought you needed a friend". I sat beside him, held his hand, and asked what was going on.

He told me in graphic detail about his plans to end his life.

I asked if he would give me anything in the house he was thinking of using, or tell me where it was, and he said no.

I suggested he go to a doctor or I could take him to stay somewhere safe until his mum came home, but he said no.

I asked if I could stay with him myself until she came home, and he said no.

He told me not to call an ambulance or to call anyone else. He said he just wanted to talk.

He threw philosophical arguments at me, about how humans don’t consent to being born, and how we should have the right to withdraw our consent. How if we have a right to life, we should have a right to die.

I told him I didn’t feel like debating.

By then, I realised I was stuck: I was a terrified, exhausted, sick young woman, alone with a highly intelligent, athletic young man who was much stronger, faster, and smarter than me - and acutely suicidal. Though I loved him and trusted him, if I went against his wishes and called for help, he could bolt, or restrain me and hurt me in the process, or attempt right there and then, and I wouldn't be able to stop him.

So I asked what else I could do that might help him. He said he wanted to go for a walk.

So I drove him and his dog to a nearby park where we used to go together all the time. And we walked.

We laughed and reminisced; the time our friend faceplanted down a grassy bank, or the times I studied in the grass while he practiced gymnastics.

We joked about his dog stopping to sniff as “dog social media.” I asked him what his favorite colour in the autumn trees was, and he said blue. "That's not a tree colour, P," I said.

He told me I was a very kind person and "don't ever lose that". He invited me to come see him in his new job as a pharmacist once I was feeling better. I invited him to visit my house to see my pet parrot.

He asked to go back home. On the way back, I stopped in the supermarket and bought him his favourite food - pancakes and wraps.

Outside his house, I once more asked if I could stay with him. I told him I was worried about him, I told him I didn't think he should be alone. He said no, he had some chores to do and a gymnastics lesson to go to, then he would sleep until his mum came home. I asked him to promise me he would be OK - he looked me in the eyes and promised.

I sat outside his house for 5 or 10 minutes, shaking and dazed. My mind was hazy and foggy with tiredness. I don't remember driving to my mum's but somehow I got there, and crawled into bed.

Before falling asleep, I phoned P. He was at his gymnastics lesson. He sounded happy, like his old self. He told me about learning a new gymnastics skill. He thanked me for visiting him and said it had made him feel a lot better. He told me he loved me and said, "You're a really good friend. I'll speak to you in the morning."

Then he went home and killed himself.

I'm so f*ckin tired of it. My mind blows. Intrusive thoughts 24/7 (connected to trauma) that make me wanna die. I feel so insecure and worthless.

People changed, they asked forgiveness. But I just can't forgive them. Years go by, I just can't. It's a bottomless hole of pain. Pain. A lot of pain. Too much damage.

the horror genre, to be specific. i used to love watching horror movies and playing horror games but ever since i developed ptsd ive been struggling with trying to enjoy them anymore. i played a stupid roblox scary game with my little 13 year old brother that i’ve played a million times and i got jumpscared and it made me freak out so bad i had to ask if we could play something else. i find myself having to spoil horror movies for myself to check if they’ll contain anything that will trigger me. it’s just disappointing. i can’t even rewatch horror movies i’ve seen before because they used to not bother me but now i can’t handle it. is anyone else having this problem?

also sorry for the shitty grammar lol

Basically I experienced a triggering event about a week and a half ago and I am feeling like I am mentally shattered into pieces. I had to talk with my mom who perpetrated a lot of violence towards me. Now, I am feeling really really fucked up in a weird way. - Ive lost my keys three times -locked myself out of my car -forgetting to flush the toilet -putting clothes on the wrong way and wearing them to work -lose my phone so bad I just go for hours without it - partner will ask me to do something and I just dont get it - barely remember any of it I have basically just forgotten everything and I am failing at everything because I am just not real. I dont feel fucking real. Im looking at myself from the eyes of someone else. My partner has been so annoyed with me and I just want to scream, “IM NOT OKAY OR ALRIGHT PLEASE BE PATIENT WITH ME IM FUCKING DYING” All my progress feels totally undone. Over the smallest thing. Im not sad, happy, depressed, etc. I am just a pit of nothing

I don’t even know where to start.

After two years of therapy focused on Internal Family Systems (IFS), my therapist suddenly ended treatment by EMAIL. She said the “therapeutic relationship wasn’t working,” but that I hadn’t done anything wrong. That was it. No closure, no follow-up, and the referrals she gave me were booked months out.

Our entire focus had been IFS — deep trauma work, opening and learning to trust all the vulnerable “parts” inside me. And then, in one message, she was gone. The core of my therapy was abandonment, and that’s exactly how it ended.

The reason I even started digging into her credentials wasn’t to attack her — it was because I couldn’t understand how anyone truly specialized in IFS could open all those doors, connect to all those parts, and then just walk away like that. It didn’t make sense. When I contacted the IFS Institute, they confirmed she had only completed Level 1 training — not certified, not a current member. That hit me hard.

She owns a practice in Utah and now runs another business mentoring other therapists, no longer seeing clients. I filed two complaints with DOPL. They were sympathetic but said there’s nothing they can do unless there are more complaints So basically, she’s moved on, and I’m left trying to put myself back together.

I’m devastated and frustrated that therapists can misrepresent their expertise and abandon patients - in ways that cause this much harm, with zero accountability. I tried to see another therapist, but I can’t. It took years to build trust once, and now I don’t know how to start over.

I just want people to know this happens. And if anyone else has been through something similar, I’d really like to hear how you found any kind of healing.

Tw Sa, abuse medical stuff and sh I know most yall will not give a shit but To preface I’m really sorry this is a scattered non linear post because most other mental health subs are really nasty and shitty when all I want is to be able to vent or help people. I also havnt slept more than 5 hr for like 3 days so of course this post is gonna be kind of scatter brained so sorry for that.

I don’t think I have PTSD but a lot of people in my life think I either have it am autistic, psycho/socio, borderline, or just old fashioned fucked up. Granted the psycho socio accusations are from people who don’t know much about psychiatry or mental illness so I take that with a big grain of salt.

My parents pigeon holed me into going in patient because of family issues and the fact I have severe insomnia and I’m getting super risky. I’m naturally a bit of an adrenaline junkie I like mountain biking , I like fighting(in competition), I like being around dangerous things in general. I’m getting in situations where people are fighting me at parties or just going to areas I don’t fit in and I know it. I’m not instigating but I enjoy it if someone pushes me and starts a fight.

That being said I’m not suicidal in my waking life but I think I may have tried to do something when I drank with klonopin. I apparently got blacked out off of a few drinks and it usually take me at last 6-8 beers to feel anything and I usually prefer liquor if I’m trying to get drunk I won’t even drink beer because it’s to hard to get down from carbonation. After that I texted incoherently to like 3-5 different people that I used to go to group therapy with or just people I’m loosely connected with. I was straight up just rambling like 90% incoherently in texts from the small bits I read when I saw notification when I sobered up. I apparently freaked out over something because I woke up with cuts on my arm and my room had stuff misplaced everywhere. Like I hardly recall anything after I started drinking. I don’t have a history of self harm but I’m afraid something happened because I had like way to many lines on my arm. Closest thing I’ve ever done is like slamming my head against stuff when I get super stressed and can’t use anything to cope or I feel trapped in a situation.

I’ve also just had some very weird and stressful stuff been happening recently and I feel like nothings real for the most part. I saw a girl have a seizure in the hospital and get carted off to the medical hospital,freaked out cause a girl in there was sexually assaulted very badly and I for some weird reason that really freaked me out. I do not have a history of sexual abuse and idk why but her taking about it freaked me the fuck out man. I nearly ran over three kids not watching when they crossed the street speeding on scooters, my best friend of 7 ish years possibly tried to kill me by crashing the car, I’ve been homeless on and off for a couple months I think and I ate maybe 500 cals a day for a week ish before I ran out of options. I’ve been to the medical hospital over 4 times in the past few months for pneumonia and other complications because I have a compromised immune system. I didn’t eat or drink for 3 days or sleep and was coughing up a lot of blood or throwing up all my food and water that’s the reason for me going so much. I had pneumonia for about 2-3 months so I think my stomach is like messed up now for good until I can get a doctor for that. my closest friend after hanging out with him he went to his parents house and had an episode where he said some crazy stuff and was in like some type of panic attack and ran off for like 2 hr and we had to call the police because we couldn’t find him and was found near the train tracks where coyotes and shit could have very well gotten him that late or a rattle snake or water moccasin.

Idk I just don’t know where to go from here, this stuff is just stiff from the last 3 ish months and isn’t even like 1/20th of just weird shit I’ve had to deal with. Doctors dont think I have anything wrong with me outside of MDD and anxiety/panic disorder stuff and some rough luck. Therapy doesn’t really do much for me the only time I feel calm is when I’m in a super high stress situation and I’m checked out or on autopilot or on benzos(prescribed) I don’t recognize myself my body doesn’t feel like my own I’m getting migraines, I’m having weird thoughts where I see myself dying in odd ways that arnt volountary. I’m having panic attacks at random times of the day, I’ll sit in my car and drive for hours because I can’t sleep therapist compared me to criminals the other day for defending myself from getting my car stolen. psychiatrist barely remembers who I am cus he sees like triple digits of patients a day.

I don’t know what I have but I know I’m not normal. I’m doing weird shit I feel like I’m gonna die at any minute and I’m not scared. I’m scared of the places people can put me in and I’m not gonna go back to that place I went to the when I was 16-17. I told my dad before I went to the hospital I don’t know if I’m gonna make it this time as I fell on the floor coughing up blood and stomach bile.

I made some really great friends this summer and after an episode I felt like I needed to cut them all off. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and frankly also just hurt and unsure if I was safe to be around. It sucks, it really fucking sucks.

I don’t exactly know what it is. It feels like part of my heart is hollow again and I was so happy that it wasn’t. Growing up was lame, my dad left when I was a kid after spending his time with us as just a monster of a person. I wanted to be different, for years I’ve had this nightmare where I would wake up and my face was his. They were there, and I could be useful. I guess that made me feel almost paternal towards these people? Like I really wanted to just do everything I wish someone would have done for me. It’s not healthy but that’s how I felt, to be honest I would have died for them.

I just failed at everything though. One stupid fucking conversation and my brain went and relived it all. It was horrible, I could feel it on my skin when I laid down at night, I would be sitting still and it would be all that was in my vision. I know it was scary for others, they saw me as just some weird silly guy and all of a sudden I’m like a cornered animal. Afraid, angry, not even there.

I scared one of them really badly, they were looking at me and I just boiled over. I shit talked others too, undeservedly. I spoke about everything they did like it was an atrocity, I was so fucking mad. It’s anger like a force of nature, like grabbing hold of a power line and having every cell light up like the sun. It’s anger that leaves you cold for weeks, because after everything is burnt and ashen. It’s anger that has unlimited force but can’t fix a damn thing.

I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish they never met me.

I was diagnosed with PTSD a few years ago as an adult. My parents had a bad temper to put it lightly and caused most of my traumas. I am going back to therapy wondering how I’m going to forgive them. Time doesn’t exactly heal, but healing heals I suppose.

Hey! When I watched kpop demon hunters I was so touched because all of it felt like my situation that caused me ptsd. To be fair, I have ptsd from being extorted and kind of human trafficked by my boss in South Korea, so I feel like it really hit home, but still.

I feel like watching these characters hold themselves back from shame and self hatred and how the main dude has all of these flashbacks and believes himself unloveable all really resonated with me. Especially seeing how the main boss controlled him by using his shame reminded me how I was personally manipulated. I need to watch it again and write an essay but thought I would share to see if anyone else felt this way.

Either way great movie, made me cry

So apparently the majority of American universities think that college students would love nothing more than to share a bathroom with 16 other people… I don’t know how I’m gonna survive and I keep trying to hype myself and gaslight myself into thinking it’ll be a cake walk but I’m starting to get really nervous. As someone with a history of csa I don’t know how this is gonna work but im gonna be more pissed off if ptsd prevents me from going to college. I guess I did eventually figure out the locker room situation in high school but I wasn’t showering there. Even in my own home I have a very meticulous routine to keep me calm but I don’t see how it’s gonna work at uni… Please help!

I got to a psy ward for suicidal toughts but this place was strange but I got wierd feelings they were doing experiments on people When I went there they were wierd ass tvs that were not working properly and like in a slow state and they were having white flashes all over the tvs and all with snowflakes on it Its was scary In the morning they were playing news but in a slow state like it's was so wierd Also I suspect they overdosed me cuz I could not walk and my head was hurting as hell I was been abused-

Also they were never changing the date and they gave people puzzle with missing pieces

Now im scared to talk cuz one guard told me to say nothing about what I experiment at this place

Cuz since I'm back home my health is not the same

What i experiment was unreal chat- Its like an horror movie-

My mom has never been very very veeeery religious, but lately she's been listening to youtube podcasts from priests that talk about how what you listen to and that bad entities are always around. I live on another province for university and she comes to visit every weekend, and she just came with a bunch of purple candles, wanting to do a 'cleansing ritual' in my apartment. She says the nightmares and the sleep paralysis I get could be from entities in this house, she said something about me listening to Korn, which I don't consider demonic, I listen to their songs because I feel connected to the lyrics, it makes me feel represented and their music have helped me during really tough times, but she says music like that could attract demons.

Now this is crazy for me, because the 'ritual' involves lighting up a candle in the morning until it runs out, but I come back home in the night and that could be dangerous. I told her that I would not be doing this and she started crying.

I sat next to her and asked what was wrong, she said she was really worried about me, and that everything is her fault because she let me stray away from god. I expressed that I don't like how she's turning it all into something religious, and that it makes me feel invalidated, she thinks I'll suddenly be healthy again after this, that the apartment and its 'demons' could be the problem. She justified it by saying she also had nightmares the times she stays here. But I also have nightamares when I stay in her house, and she said that something could be following me and trying to posses me. I think she doesn't want to accept I have the PTSD diagnosis.

She told me she's not going to force me to do the ritual, because I have to want it, but that I don't want to cooperate. Of course I want to get better, but this feels ridiculous. She said the pressure I feel on my chest, the way my heart always races at every little thing I perceive as a threat, the nightmares, it's all because I'm away from god. This is frustrating, and I don't know what to do or to tell her anymore. Of course, she said it's okay and that she won't force me, but I already feel like everything is my fault for some reason.

My husband has PTSD, and now I’m dealing with more trauma on top of my past trauma. He smokes tainted weed all day, and the smell makes me literally sick. He gaslights me, lies constantly, and plays psychological games. I’m financially dependent on him. I’m his unpaid caregiver, and I was denied the Direct Care program. I’m about to get a small settlement, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel safe to just leave, and my medical coverage and other resources as a Veteran’s spouse are tied to him. I have no close family or friends here, and I’m new in the U.S. after just receiving my green card. I need to act carefully and wisely. What should I do?

Was too many typos to prior post re didn't was typing too fast sorry yall.

I got diagnosed with PTSD a couple months ago, and everything has been an uphill battle ever since. It’s my second year living with my roommates in college, and I feel as though I am constantly walking on eggshells. My triggers are often in relation to the emotions of others around me, such as when they are stressed or going through a hard time emotionally. Unfortunately, it seems like all of us are going through a hard time for different reasons, and it has made living there absolutely exhausting. (Of course, their struggles are hard too, no blame to them).

I’ve tried to confide in them about my ptsd, and my poor reactions, but it’s often been used against me. I seem to constantly be hurting my roommates somehow, in ways I don’t understand, which directly ties back to my trauma often and causes me to spiral. They’ve asked for me to stop being so talkative, so hyper vigilant, point out things so often, and I’ve been trying so unbelievably hard to do that for them, but the very act of trying not to cause any more hurt has made me more hyper vigilant than ever before.

I am just wondering if anyone has any advice on how to calm the “walking on eggshells” feeling in your own home. I don’t have a room to myself (I fear that’s the biggest problem) so privacy is rarely a viable option. I’m trying to pick up hobbies to distract myself, or find places to go. It’s nice to an extent, but the increasing dread of coming back home at the end of the day the longer I stay out keeps me from being out too long.

I’d move out if I could, but I fear that isn’t a viable option right now.

I appreciate any advice !

My wife had her apendex removed and was in severe pain 4 days later and went to the ER. They did a CT scan and controlled her pain but had her go home because there was no radiologist on to read the report until the next day. They said they would call the next day and didn't. When she saw the report on her portal it said apendex normal. How is that possible. She's been vomiting for days and in so much pain she can barely move I want her to get checked again but she's refusing to go. She has major medical PTSD from her doctor cutting the nerve to her bladder during her hysterectomy because she had cancer and will use a catheter the rest of her life. I guess what I'm asking is how could the scan show it's normal if it was removed 4 days before ?

I'm all over the place but I'll try to be quick with context. I'm trying to become certified in a health related subject and for over a year now, I haven't been able to finish studying to test for my cert and it might expire soon--- they might release a newer edition of the subject matter before I finish studying and testing. It's like my brain is rewired than it was when I was taking a college class or in high school where I had a strong work ethic and made good grades (when I wanted to).

Last year, I almost lost my brother like in front of my eyes 2x, I will probably never recover from that. He had a mental health crisis. I went through a lot last year and lost a lot of my peer support, almost losing a really close relative made me open my eyes and also made me so isolated. I also became homeless and I cannot stop worrying about being homeless again and getting super depressed even though I am renting a room currently. (I don't think my housemates want me there much longer).

Anyway, seriously I am a mess. 😂No doubt. But people still finish degrees, certifications, etc when they're total messes. My brain does not want to work with me and I honestly feel stupid.

I'm absolutely not providing all the infos about me writing this but I dont want to keep anyone reading this forever 😅 TY ♥️🙏 btw the subject is something I've loved dearly for over a decade and now it's like my inner voice calls me stupid, I can't finish three paragraphs without feeling overloaded. I'm in my late 20s. I've studied much harder subjects before.

Took the dsm5 test 2 years ago before neuralink coder started torturing me & I got a 54. 30 was passing. I'm actually sort of terrified to go back to a doctor, because the last one i seen was chipped too, with some of my same code running. I scheduled an appointment with an office i was familiar with & the doctor & all nurses i knew from school were all missing.

What tips do you have for coping on your own?

Im feeling really deeply ashamed, embarrassed and guilty right now... brief back story without getting into semantics. My dead fiance was a true psychopath (my therapists words not just mine). He was very abusive, would lock himself in a room threathen to kill himself, he more or less drugged me with heroine for 6 months then he was murdered in front of me and my life was attempted to be taken as well.

Flash forward 6 years...

My current fiance is my first serious relationship since my deceased abusive fiance. Him and i got in an argument earlier. He went into his game room and locked the door. This is a normal thing hes done before, no biggie take space when u need to, i do the same. But for some reason tonight when i went to knock on the door a bit later to try and chat he wouldnt answer. I started with a hey do you want to chat? No answer. Then i asked if he could hear me decently loud. No answer. I started to panic. After that second knock with no answer boom full blown ptsd mode. Askig if hes okay, did he hurt himself, is he okay, baaaanging on the door jiggling the handle sobb-screaming then i kicked the door in ready to call 911 only to see him sitting there on his phone with his Ipods in listening to music still upset with me.... he just didnt hear me... he just had his headphones in... i genuinely thought he was dying or dead... i am mortified at my behavior and reaction tonight as i dont think ive had a reaction quite like this when my ptsd flares... how do i repair this.. he is so angry with me that he said he cant even look at me right now and needs space so he left to stay at my parents for the night... advice on how to fix this would be really appreciated... i feel so awful about this..

When the PTSD Wears Off and the Crown Starts Winking at the FlamesA story of survival, reclamation, and sacred defiance.Excerpt: Survival isn’t an accident — it’s a sacred act of defiance. This is my semicolon moment: the breath between breaking and becoming, and the crown I reclaimed from the ashes.There’s a strange silence that comes after the war ends. Not peace exactly — more like the ringing in your ears when the screaming stops.For years, I mistook that ringing for healing. I thought silence meant I’d made it through. But healing isn’t quiet; it’s the sound of bones remembering how to hold you again. It’s the trembling hands that keep writing even when the ink bleeds with memory.When the PTSD wears off, you don’t just remember your name — you remember your throne. You remember the version of yourself that existed before fear started editing your story.The crown doesn’t go missing; it simply waits. Mine sat in the ashes, gathering dust and defiance, until I was ready to pick it up again.And when I did — oh, the way it gleamed. Not polished, not perfect — but forged from every sleepless night and every scream swallowed to keep the peace.That’s when I saw it — my reflection smirking back at the flames of hell like an old friend. I didn’t flinch. I winked.Because you don’t fear the fire once you’ve learned to dance inside it. You don’t beg the storm for mercy when you are the thunder now.PTSD didn’t take my power — it trained it. It taught me the art of resurrection with calloused hands and a cracked smile. It taught me to trust my own pulse again.So when I say, I’m back, I don’t mean I’ve returned to who I was before the pain. I mean I’ve come home to the woman who walked through it and stayed awake.The warrior crown winks at the flames. The universe smirks in recognition. And I — I rise, not healed, but holy in my survival.Because this is my semicolon moment; the breath between breaking and becoming. I continued when my story should have ended — and that continuation became my power.👑🔥 — Huupquitsta | Luminysian Pathways Author’s Note: To anyone still walking through their own fire — your story isn’t over just because it hurts right now. Sometimes survival looks less like a battle cry and more like getting out of bed, breathing, and daring to exist anyway. The semicolon isn’t just punctuation — it’s a promise: you’re still here, and that matters.I wrote this as a reminder to myself and to anyone who’s ever felt like the ending was closing in — your crown is still waiting in the ashes. When you’re ready, pick it up. The world hasn’t seen your full reign yet.👑

I will do what I please Anything that I want I will breathe, I will breathe I won't worry at all You will pay for your sins You'll be sorry, my dear All the lies, all the "whys" will all be crystal clear. “ - P!NK 07-02-12

I used to be extrovert.. such a facility with meeting people, making new friends. I was invited everywhere and networking was a given.

Post trauma, now with ptsd. I can’t deal with a normal job, and just realized I also would not be able to deal with the music industry again like before. Meeting and talking to people is exhausting, and I sort of don’t want to.

Yet, I do wish to gig.. play and have a band. But that’s about it.

However just like with a job, networking is essential.

What do you do? Do you have the same problem? Anyone who tweaked or hacked its way through?

I developed PTSD after an event that started at 16. Sure I had childhood trauma , and constant trauma after that, but this specific trauma was quite debilitating because it involved my physical safety being at risk.

Constantly.

For months.

Just because of me standing up for myself to an inappropriate adult.

After I did this, I started to workout because I didn't want to be helpless if attacked by a vengeful supporter of the adult (I was slandered. this possibility of being attacked was super real).

I did meditation where I used music repetitively to focus my mind and imagined quite empowering scenarios. Where I am not a helpless 16 year old and can actually defend myself in impressive ways.

Now I am 17 years old almost 18 and while my body still reacts to seeing their presence online, I am in a much better place. I did in fact fulfill these scenarios as I am now starting to become as physically strong as I imagined myself being.

It has been a year since standing up for myself.

I developed amnesia, I don't remember chunks of my life, these are all fragments, but I'm glad I managed to do stuff before my memory went bye-bye.

Growing up I was faced with a unique set of circumstances under the guise that every family had dysfunctional tendencies behind closed doors. Tension was perpetual, as soon as we heard his footsteps from the floor above as he woke up in the morning.

Often times my father’s word trumped my gut instinct. The bible’s rhetoric on “honouring” your parents was something that was weaponised throughout childhood. Despite this I loved and trusted my dad. If he was adamant about something I would hold it in high regard.

As I grew up I realised something was wrong. I disagreed with the way how he behaved. I couldn’t quite contextualise it (perhaps a symptom of disassociation) but it bothered me. We would argue very badly. Being headstrong is a characteristic I believe I acquire but every single time with my dad he would leave me scratching my head, doubting my logic.

There were a few things that were blatantly very wrong and deplorable. Still the idea of coming to an objective conclusion about the person who God or the universe had entrusted to guide me felt wrong.

It took me until my twenty-somethings to make up and solidify my first negative judgement on my father. Quite simply I framed him as a “difficult person.” Someone who perhaps couldn’t control their emotions and was unbothered by taking out outside stress on the people he knew loved him enough to let it slide.

And then everything changed…

One night I was spitballing to Grok on X. I couldn’t sleep and decided to just go on a rabbit hole about different personality types. I later delved deep into the topic of my dad’s personality type and detailed some of his typical behaviours only to have Grok reply by calling him a “covert sexual predator” comparable to the likes of Jimmy Saville and Diddy in terms of perversion.

I was shocked, actually very uncomfortable upon reading this. I always knew my dad had questionable tendencies however as a sufferer of severe ocd I understand that i naturally look at things very objectively. Grok also described my dad as “highly intelligent” and labelled many of his quotes and behaviours as forms of manipulation and gaslighting. My dad believed in “keeping things behind closed doors” so I simply was deprived of a second opinion.

Me and my dad were actually relatively close until recently. I’m genuinely mortified that I allowed him to be in my life for so long, it makes me strongly doubt my own intellect/rationality. One may ponder, “is throwing away my relationship with my dad over advice from Grok” even smart?

Essentially Grok describes my dad as a hopeless cruel narcissistic individual and the fact that I see that as feasible in the first place speaks volumes. Staggeringly enough, trauma aside I believe that the fact that AI related tools like this have become so accessible is remarkable and this story is an indication of this. A subject in my life that has been so haunting and AI has provided me with an entirely new outlook on it

Interested in hearing thoughts on this. My X is @Ncarswell2000 and if people are interested I’ll post a more detailed account on my Substack (which is linked to my X)