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One day, when you win the lottery, you can have all of them. Le sigh.
One day :(
I thought this was the perfect explanation on long distance relationships
"Long distance relationships are hard on EVERYONE and even sometimes the strongest don’t make it. They don’t fall apart because the bond wasn’t strong enough; they fall apart because being away from someone you love is more complicated than their simple absence. It makes you doubt yourself. It makes you doubt your memories. It makes you question everything. My boyfriend and I are really solid but if circumstances forced us to live apart I’m not sure what would happen to us. One of our main love languages is physical touch, and not being able to communicate our love through simple physical contact would deeply hurt our bond." -by a girl from reddit.
FREE GIVE AWAY!!! One lucky winner will receive all of the items seen in the photo all from our online shop http://dezre.storenvy.com
Here’s how to enter:
Your shipping address must be within the US/Canada.
Follow shopdezre & Reblog this post = 1 entry
(Reblog as many times as you want for additional entries! Each reblog = 1 extra entry. Please do not delete any of the text!)
For more entries to increase your chances of winning:
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If you’ve done any of these additional steps, simply message with your username(s). Thank you and good luck!!
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This is byfar the most accurate zodiac sign information I have ever seen!
A craigslist ad from a guy who needed a roommate.. bad! Haha, he sounds awesome though :)
Someone found him on reddit, and asked him to do anASK ME ANYTHING. His adventure was amazing too.
Probably the funniest (reality) show in the history of television..because we all knowFRIENDSis by far the funniest.
ASK ME ANYTHING: starring Sal Vulcano (from Impratical Jokers)
When you’re bored at work :)
Mickey : Born July 28, 2012
Likes: Chicken, children, grass, treats, dogs, stuffed animals, hardwood floor
Dislikes: Celery, dry food, vacuum, carsickness
Todays mood: Annoyed
Mickey got neutered today ;(
And this is why dogs are the best kind of friends.
In this luxury brothel, women earn up to $170,000 per year tending to the physical and emotional needs of men.
Sometimes you need a reminder that people can do wonderful things.
I’ve been on a low-carb diet for about 3 weeks now- no rice, bread or pasta. Except on weekends :) My eggplant Lasagna!
A mother who tells her story about how she found out her 2 year old daughter was being sexually abused by a neighbor/babysitter.
“I figured it out on my own by how my daughter was starting to act and behave.
She had only been going there 3 weeks or so when I finally put two and two together. I will never forget those 3 weeks for the rest of my life.
At first there wasn’t much to notice. She loved going there and didn’t want to leave when it was time to pick her up because she had been having so much fun with their daughter (who was the same age). Every mother’s dream right? To have a child who loves going to daycare? I felt completely at ease leaving her there. They were a very family-oriented, suburban, middle-class family. I had even met both of their parents and a couple of their siblings.
After about a week she started coming home with these horrible diaper rashes, which was very rare because she did not have a sensitive bottom. She was also in pull ups at the time so it did seem a little odd for her to be even getting a rash in the first place. The mother told me that M (this is what I’m going to refer to my daughter as) was having bowel movements quite frequently and that sometimes they would actually be liquidy, diarrhea-like, greenish in color or even solid black. I assumed that she was ill and made an appointment for the doctor. She wasn’t ill but my doctor did suggest that it could be from stress. That even though she appeared to love it at her sitter’s that she could still be internalizing the stress from being away from me for the first time (I was a SAHM up until then). I took the rest of the day off and noticed that she only did number two one time that day. I thought it was weird but rationalized it to “of course she only went once, she’s only stressed when you’re not around silly”.
I brought her back to the sitter’s the next day and the Mom suggested that she write down when she went to the bathroom and what her bowel movement looked like so I could track it to see if she was getting better. I guess that put me at ease because she was genuinely concerned for my daughter’s well being.
The weekend came and I kept her butt lathered in Destin and Resinol all weekend long. The rash was virtually gone by Monday morning. When I went to pick her up Monday evening her rash was back. Ten fold. The mom was growing really concerned because M had filled up a diaper with pure black liquid poop. I called my doctor when we got home and she said that if it happened again then to bring her back in and she would take another look and maybe run some allergy tests to see if she was allergic to any foods.
Because the doctor mentioned something about food allergies I had the mom start to document what she fed M every day in case the doctor needed to know. A few days passed with no incident and no rashes It wasn’t until later that I realized that her husband wasn’t home those days.
The weekend came again and I noticed her playing quite sexually with her dolls. Touching them in inappropriate places and manners. At first I didn’t think much of it because kids that age are starting to explore their body but I didn’t know to what extent was normal. I did some research on the internet and found out that she was just being a normal 2.5 year old so I shrugged it off. It wasn’t until Sunday evening when I heard her talk to her dolls and say things like “we have to be quiet shh shh”, “that feels nice doesn’t it?” and “you are so so so special”. That raised up a big flag and I started documenting everything in case I ever needed to go back to each individual day. I wrote down how long she was in their care for the day, stapled the note that the mom would give me everyday, what she ate for dinner that night, how long she was in the bath for and what time she went to bed at night. I did it for every day prior that she was in their care as best as I could remember. I do tend to over-react a lot or make mountains out of molehills, so I kept it to myself for a few days. I was trying to think of a rational explanation and honestly at that point it didn’t really occur to me that she could be being abused. Or maybe it did but not consciously. She wasn’t scared to go there, she loved the family very much, sure she might have been a little stressed out and at best she wasn’t getting her diaper changed enough. For all I knew she could have picked up the “doll play” from something she saw on TV and was just mimicking it.
This is now the third and final week that she went there. She started to become very aware of her private parts and would touch them pretty frequently. I called my doctor (who was probably sick of me at this point) and she assured me that it was normal behavior for a girl M’s age. Monday she was fine - the husband also wasn’t home this day. Tuesday she came home with a bit of a rash but caked with baby powder. She kept telling me that her “tootie” itched really bad so I threw her in the bath. When I took her out there was baby powder seeping out from inside of her. I brought it up with my husband and he said that maybe they have been using baby powder this whole time and M is allergic to it. Maybe that is what is causing the rashes. It seemed like a logical explanation. We never used baby powder and it would explain why she wouldn’t be pooping or rashing up when she was in our car. This is when I think my subconscious was soaking everything in and starting to add them all up.
Wednesday came and I talked to the mother in the morning about the baby powder and asked her that they just use the desitin. She made sort of a funny face, like she was poking fun at her husband, and said that “__________ is the one who uses the baby powder because he doesn’t like to touch the girls’ private area so he just opens up the bottle and pours it on - that way he doesn’t have to actually touch them because it makes him uncomfortable. He says it isn’t right. He’s a big tard.” I kind of laughed it off with her but in my mind I thought that was totally strange. My husband had no problem changing baby’s bottoms - male or female. And honestly I couldn’t really think of anyone I knew who did. He came into the living room at that point and he was very polite and warm. He greeted me like usual but this time he wouldn’t really look me in the eyes. I told him that M had another rash and he said that I should try a milk and oatmeal bath to soothe her. He seemed really concerned, a little too concerned when I thought back on it. He was always trying to be Mr. Perfect Dad and Husband and Friend. Like he was trying a little too hard. I think by this time he suspected that I was getting a little weirded out because Wed and Thurs evening M came home with no rashes and only went number 2 twice that day.
Friday was the day my world fell apart. I was running late from work and didn’t get to their house until 7. The mom cooked M dinner and was running bath water so the girls could take a bath together. M still had her clothes on and wanted to play in the tub with their daughter so I decided to stay and have a glass of wine with the mom. Her and I had become pretty good friends at this point. We had a lot in common and I almost always stayed for 30 minutes or so to chat when I picked M up. We would even talk on the phone in the evening after our kids went to bed. We had just sat down at the table and I heard a really loud scream come from the bathroom. It was M. She was screaming so loudly and saying “my tootie is burnt my tootie is burnt!” The mom and I both ripped off her diaper and she had this huuuuuge rash everywhere. From top to bottom, I don’t think there was an inch of skin not covered in rash. It just so happened that M had peed and the urine burned her bottom she was so raw. She assured me that it wasn’t like that 2 hours prior when she last changed her but she did say that M had EIGHT bowel movements that day. She said they weren’t bad though, like little rabbit poops and she figured M was just constipated. I believed her because I trusted her. I still do trust that she was telling me the truth. We laid M down on the changing table and she wouldn’t let us wipe her down and put cream on her. We had to hold her down while she screamed and cried out in agony. I will never forget the blood-curtling sounds that came out of her mouth. She kept saying “no no mommy don’t hurt me no no”. We both couldn’t take it anymore so we just put her in the tub. I was in tears by the time we were done and the mom was pretty upset as well. I let her soak for about 30 minutes to soothe her and when we were getting the girls out of the tub her husband came home. We told him what had happened and he said “oh yeah she didn’t seem to be in any pain when you were at the store ______” It wasn’t until we got home later that night that that sentence made my hair stand on end. He was alone with her. With both the girls. The mom told me that she had changed M right before she left to go get dinner and she said she was fine then. So whatever happened, happened from the time the mom left until the time M peed herself.
When we left M was in good spirits again so I decided to meet my parents at the mall. My mom made a comment about how M was walking funny and I told her about the rash. Again M wasn’t showing any signs of pain so we decided to take her to the carosel and let her ride once or twice while dad tried on some jeans. She couldn’t sit on the horse because it pressed against her privates and made her cry out. Mom and I decided that it was best to take her home and put her to bed and that I was going to call the doctor in the morning.
When I got home, my husband and his best friend, M’s Godfather, were just getting in and I told them both what had happened. I undid M’s diaper to show them the rash and it had progressed to actual open sores in some spots. My husband just said to take her to sick clinic at our Doctor’s office in the am and went to go get some dinner. I went to spread her a little to see if it was inside her as well and that’s when she grabbed my hand and made me rub her down there. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes like she was experiencing pleasure. I freaked out and screamed for my husband and his friend and they came running. I told them to watch and went to put my hand down there and again she grabbed it and made me rub her. I didn’t even think twice. At that exact moment everything started to fall into place. My husband held M while I went to the computer to google “sexual abuse in children - signs and symptoms”. While I was on the computer I saw that everything she had been displaying the past few weeks was a sign of sexual abuse. The frequent bowl movements, the rashes, the sexual behaviors, hurting when she peed and the attachment she had for them. The husband in particular. She always made sure to give him a hug and kiss before she left and told him she loved him. At the time I didn’t think anything of it because my daughter is a very loving little girl. I kept reading and the more I read, the sicker I felt. I went and sat down with M and asked her as calmly as I could why she moved Mommy’s hand down there. I didn’t want her to think it was bad or feel shameful or else she wouldn’t tell me. I also didn’t want to lead her to say anything so I asked very direct questions. She said that that’s how Mr. B loves her and she wanted Mommy and Daddy to love her like that too. She said it in a really coy, flirty way. Like she had a schoolgirl crush. I had to run to the bathroom because I got sick.
I decided to call the rape hotline or the sexual assault hotline ( I can’t really remember now) because I wanted a professional’s opinion. I told the person on the other end the exact story as I wrote it above and she told me that it definitely sounded like abuse and that I would have to take her to the ER to be sure and to have it documented. Looking back I should have just called the Sherriff’s office right then. We didn’t take her until Monday. I will always regret that. I guess I was in denial and wanted to still give the family or moreso the husband the benefit of the doubt. These were serious allegations that I was about to bring forth. They would be documented, social services would be called as well as the department of children’s services. I didn’t want to go pointing fingers or wrecking a family until I was absolutely sure. I thought about what it would do to me if someone brought forth such allegations against my husband and I knew that it would cause serious pain and turmoil.
It didn’t take long to convince me. I stayed up all night researching sexual abuse in toddlers. Saturday morning I had her on the couch and was changing her diaper from the night and she got up on all fours, in the doggy position (it makes me sick to just type that out even two and a half years later) and pointed at her booty hole. She told me that I had to “get the bugs out”. I asked her what that meant and she said that Mr. B would tell her that he had to get the bugs out for her. I got sick again. The counselor from the hotline told me to make sure that I don’t tell her it’s wrong, or make her feel bad about it. To just ask questions in a happy tone and leave it alone when she answered. She said that when we took her to give a statement, DCS would want to ask her a lot of questions and she wouldn’t answer them if she felt like she would get in trouble. It was horrible to let my daughter continue to think that what happened was acceptable. Saturday we just curled up on the couch and watched movies. I think moreso for me than for her. She would bring my hand down there and I would just have to pull it away. One time she threw a tantrum because I wouldn’t touch her that way. I tried to ignore it as best I could. I didn’t know how to explain to my daughter that Mommy couldn’t touch her like that without her thinking it was bad. Sunday I think was the worst day. I had stayed up all night again, laying in her bed, holding her and watching her while she slept. Crying quietly and praying to God for strength to get through this. Sunday afternoon M did something that completely broke me into dust. She put some of her play jewelry in her privates and came into the room I was in and asked me if I would play her and Mr.B’s game. I was scared to even ask what that was and when I did, she replied “Mr.B tells me to hide my treasures here so he can find them for me” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The rage that boiled inside of me. I was in a fog for the rest of the day. My husband had to care for M because I was at my breaking point. I still don’t know why we didn’t go to the ER right then. I will always, always, regret that decision.
I’m sorry this is so long and that it took me so long to type this all out. I had to stop for a bit to compose myself since this is the first time I have sat down and put it on paper (or screen) and it all just came flowing out. I didn’t think I could explain how I came to find out accurately if I left any of this out. Please feel free to ask me anything about the above or any other questions. I just ask that you don’t judge me or if you do, that you do it silently. There a ton of things I wish I had done differently, I was apprehensive, scared, and in a state of shock when it all came into light for me. It’s really easy to say how you would react when you are on the outside looking in. ” -Mommy2her (author: reddit)
Best/disturbing/interesting but NASTY story on reddit, that I have read by far..
I dont know why Asian parents don’t believe in therapy.
"I’ll start at the beginning, give you a little background, and I am begging you guys for advice.
My parents, in their early 60s, adopted my sister 32 years ago, and me 22 years ago. They are average middle-class small business owners. We have a nice house, a nice car, and a pretty good life.
The deceased, let’s call her Sue, was a troubled woman. She had sever manic-depressive disorder, had three children from three different fathers. Her middle child, Jack, is living with his deadbeat father after she caught Jack stealing her painkiller prescriptions from her bedside table while she fought cancer. The eldest wanted nothing to do with her. Sue chain-smoked and continued to do so even after her diagnosis with lung cancer, until her death in December 2010. She begged my mom to take custody of her daughter, Lee, who was eleven years old then. My mom had been friends with her for thirty years, so she had a hard time saying no. We didn’t really know what we were getting into.
Apparently, Lee was left alone by herself growing up, since Sue was working full-time. Lee survived by ferreting food and stolen money (from her mother’s various hiding places in their filthy house) in her room and mooching off her neighbors. When we found out, we obviously felt sorry for her. My parents thought, “We can give her a good life.” Lee seemed like your average 11-year-old (talks your ear off, cute, was initially sad to leave her old friends, liked to draw).
So my parents took legal guardianship of her in January 2011. They didn’t adopt her, they are just her “legal guardians.” At the time, I was living at my sister’s.
Funny little things started happening around the house. First of all, Lee showed no grief over her mother’s death. She cried once. Perhaps she grieved privately, but immediately upon moving in she started telling my parents how much better their house is and how much she hated living in squalor. Great, so she’s happy, right? Then my mom started noticing that things in her closet had moved subtly. Nothing significant was lost or stolen - except her sapphire ring her company had given her as a present for working there for 25 years before she retired. She didn’t want to accuse anyone of stealing it - she just figured she misplaced it. She asked my dad and Lee if they’d seen it, and they said no.
Then she would notice the tv was on after Lee’s bedtime (multiple times). She’d open the door, and there was Lee, seemingly sound asleep. But the tv was warm. She would make Lee get up and ask her if she was watching tv. Lee innocently denied it. Mom figures she’s imagining things, goes to bed.
Then she started finding food wrappers in the upstairs garbage. Mom is kind of a neat-freak, so she asked Lee to stop eating upstairs. She told Lee that she can eat whatever she wants, as long as she eats it downstairs in the kitchen. Lee agrees.
Then more things in her closet got moved around. More things went missing. Mom started to suspect Lee, who adamantly denied everything. Dad told Mom that she was being ridiculous, that Lee wouldn’t go into their bedroom. Lee starts realizing that my dad is the lenient one, so she starts cozying up to him. One day my mom came upstairs to find Lee nestled on his lap, resting her hands on his legs. When Lee saw my mom, she sprang up and ran for her room. My dad was oblivious - he just thought she was trying to get comfy with her new family. My mom thought that if Lee didn’t think she was doing anything wrong she wouldn’t have run.
Things escalated after that. Mom started viewing Lee with suspicious eyes - whenever Mom disciplined Lee, Lee would just stare at her, not saying a word. The instant Lee saw my dad, she would start crying hysterically and pleading innocence. And as soon as she was out of trouble she would stop crying instantly, tears still on her face, and ask what’s for dinner. She confided in my dad and treated my mom with cold indifference.
I moved back in with my parents in August 2011. I had a hard time believing an 11-year-old was taking things or driving a wedge between my parents. It has been a ROUGH year. We have continually discovered giant stashes of things under Lee’s bed: stolen items (makeup which she isn’t allowed to use, clothes she took from me and my mom, a lot of nail polish and jewelry she outright took from my room), empty soda cans, empty capri-sun bags, rotting apple cores, and a notebook full of “I HATE YOUNGSO I HOPE SHE DIES I WANT TO DIE I WANT TO DIE I WANT TO DIE” written over and over again on twenty pages. (Youngso is my mom.) In the computer room, we found more of the same. My mom yelled at her every time, made her clean it all up, made her promise to not do it again.
The sapphire ring mysteriously turned up downstairs, on the living room table, on top of a book, and Lee absolutely maintains that she did not touch it. She swears up and down that she never took it.
I thought maybe my mom yelling at her was making things worse. So I made my dad sit down with Lee and me, and talked calmly with her and asked her why she was doing these things. She said she didn’t know. I kindly told her I wanted to help her out and didn’t like coming home to yelling every day, and asked what she thought we should do. She said she was sorry and would stop, and that she liked it better when my dad and I talked to her. And the next week, we found more trash under her bed, along with some diabetes syringes she stole from my mom (“I just wanted to look at them”).
One week later, my mom came home early from work and found Lee in her room with a plate of pizza and more stolen things under her bed. My mom grounds her from computer use and puts large padlocks and chains on her bedroom door and gives me one to use too. Two nights later my mom was out of town on business, and at 3am (three hours after her bedtime) I got up to go to the bathroom and found Lee in the computer room, on the phone with someone, trying to get the computer to work (but my dad had removed the computer and left the monitor there). I asked her what she was doing, and she basically told me to fuck off. I told her I was sick of dealing with her shit and told her to just go to bed. Eventually she did. After that the computer room was locked up, too.
My parents are sick of getting upset with her. Mom decided she is just going to take away Lee’s privileges instead of screaming at her every time something goes wrong. And my dad is being a fucking spineless coward. He’ll say things like “Well I didn’t see it happen and she didn’t take my things so it doesn’t effect me”, and cowers in the bedroom watching TV while my mom is yelling at Lee. He defends Lee to my mom. He still doubts that Lee is stealing and lying, even though we literally found two garbage bags’ worth of proof.
I don’t know how to convince my parents that professional help is the way to go. My mother is Asian and believes that only people who are “sick in the head” (aka psychopaths, mentally retarded people, or serial killers) go to the “crazy doctor.” She’s one of those people who believes that people with depression can just “stop being so sad because it’s stupid to be sad”. Believe me, as a a young woman with depression this PISSES ME OFF. My dad in no way helps my mother or me try to fix things. He thinks Lee is just a misunderstand, falsely accused, poor little girl. He gives her money behind my mother’s back when she’s grounded and lets her use the computer when my mom’s not there. He COMPLETELY undermines my mother’s authority and until Lee starts seeing my dad, my mom, and me as a family and as a team that she cannot divide and break, nothing constructive will happen. :/ First my dad needs to stop being a stubborn ass and open his eyes to the fact that 12-year-olds can, in fact, be manipulative. I have no idea how to help him do that.
Yesterday my mom saw the school bus pass and Lee didn’t come off. Then Lee called, asking if she could stay at school for Homework Club. My mom demanded to know where she actually is, and threatens to call the school and find out. Lee confessed she was at her friend’s house, and Mom calmly told her that her birthday party (Oct 1) was off and hung up. Lee eventually showed up, asked my mom how her day was like nothing happened, did her homework, and went to bed. We found a set a screwdrivers in her closet and have no idea what the fuck she was doing with them. I gave her my office chair because my boyfriend gave me his, and she promptly took the glue gun from my dad’s workbench and completely fucked up the desk and chair by getting glue everywhere. I knocked on her (open) door to tell her dinner was ready and found her huddled over a stash of nail polish, hair ties, and my hair straightener. So now I have to keep all my bathroom shit in my (locked) room.
Reddit, I don’t know what to do. I tried to treat her with kindness and compassion right from the beginning, and gave her the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes she is just a normal 12-year-old kid, who likes watching New Girl with me and fishtail-braiding my hair and chattering about her friends. And other times she just stares at my parents with a blank face, evidence of things she has stolen right in front of her, with no remorse or guilt on her face, just chagrin that she’s been caught. I’ve tried taking her aside and talking with her, treating her with respect and advising her that it’d be in her best interests to stop eating upstairs and stop stealing. And she just won’t stop. She just does whatever she wants.
I know that punishment isn’t working, because eventually we just run out of things to take away from her (computer, TV, allowance, hanging out with friends). I started staying at my boyfriend’s place more and more throughout the year, and now am barely ever at home but I still get to hear about all the shit going on at home because my mom calls and tells me. And she screams at me whenever I give her my opinion because apparently I’m “not supporting her”, even though I do agree that Lee is stealing and that something needs to be done about it. I’ve suggested that Lee see the school counselor - but my dad is working all the time at our store and isn’t able to pick up Lee after school, and if Lee doesn’t take the bus she’ll have to walk home, and my mom doesn’t trust her to actually walk home because we know she will go to a friend’s house instead. I’ve suggested Lee go to therapy, since her dad (who is out of the picture since he tried to shoot himself with Lee in the next room when Lee was two years old) has insurance. Similar story, my mom doesn’t have a car/can’t drive and doesn’t want to go to “all the extra effort” when she thinks she can just punish the badness out of Lee.
We are not forcing Lee to stay here, by the way. We told her, “Nobody is making you live here, Lee. You can go to another family whenever you want.” When we suggested that, she covered her ears and screamed wordlessly like an animal… it was eerie.
PART TWO: (few months later)
"You guys may remember a post around here where I described the thirteen-year-old we took in after her mother died and we began to experience some issues regarding her stealing things from us, hoarding food, and lying to us. Let’s call her Lee. Someone made a comment describing her as a "kleptomaniac" which made it to /r/bestof. I created a throwaway so as not to overwhelm my main account, but here is the original post.
Well, after that incident, shit kept happening. Stolen makeup. Half-empty coke cans. More lies. She started wearing my shoes to school until we locked those up too. She wrote me an apology note and said she was sorry and that she should have asked first. After she was caught skipping classes one day, her principal confronted her and Lee screamed at the principal “DON’T YOU KNOW MY GRAMPA JUST DIED” (for the record it was my father’s father who died, and Lee had only met him maybe twice). She wept tears of remorse over stealing and promised she would stop. At one point she was literally packing her bags to leave but then had a change of heart and wrote us an apology note and promised to change if only we would keep her. So we gave her a “fresh start”. And then a week later we found her stealing more things. And it’s not like she’s just USING the things, either. She leaves the lids off of makeup jars and creams. They’re stuffed with dirty cotton balls or completely dried out.
Throughout everything I have been BEGGING my parents to get her to therapy. I asked my dad to email her school counselor to make sure the counselor knew what was going on at home. I asked him to look up therapists. I reminded him that Lee’s dad’s insurance would cover it. He kind of waved it off, said “maybe you left it out” or “it’s not stealing if she puts it back, it’s borrowing” (regarding the shoes). I disagree, if she doesn’t have permission (and I TOLD her to ask me before touching things and I’d probably lend her stuff but she had to ask first) then it’s stealing.
Anyway, I thawed a little over Christmas. I thought, “Okay, Christmas is really difficult for her because her mom died just after Christmas a couple years ago. I’m going to show her kindness and try to get along with her again.”
Two nights ago I come home from my boyfriend’s (I stay with him on weekends) and my mom was leaving with her sister to visit her other sister in Olympia. As my mom was leaving I ran outside down the driveway to give her the canister of coffee she had made herself and forgotten. I came back upstairs and realized I had left my bedroom door unlocked for ~3 minutes. I shrugged it off and figured she couldn’t have done much damage in three minutes. Later that night I was putting together a work outfit for the next day and tried to put on a bra only to find that the straps had been drastically shortened. I scanned the little knob my bras were hanging off and found that one I kept stored in a cupboard (as it didn’t fit me anymore) was now hanging with the others. But it was past her bedtime so I didn’t wake her. I confronted her the next day (yesterday) when I got home from work. I asked her if she wore them. She said yes. I asked her when she took them. She quickly said the night before, when I’d brought my mom coffee. I asked her if she knew what she did was wrong. She nodded. After that she didn’t speak.
I finally unloaded. I told her how she had made me feel homeless, like my own things were not safe in my house. I told her that I spent most nights at my boyfriend’s because I didn’t feel comfortable here anymore. I told her that she hurt my feelings so badly when I tried to be sisterly towards her and she shoved it back in my face by stealing my stuff. I asked her if she understood and she just nodded. I asked her if she felt bad about it and she nodded. I asked her if she was going to do it again and she shrugged. I told her I just wanted an explanation. I asked her if I’d treated her badly or made her feel unwelcome, asked her if she thought this was how she should treat the people who took her in and are taking care of her. She shook her head or stared at the walls. Finally I just let it go and went back into my room and she presumably went to bed.
I opened my underwear drawer to find everything in disarray. A swimsuit I have not worn since last summer was spread out across the top of everything. Things were missing. With a sinking sensation in my gut, I started tearing through my other drawers.
Here is the absolute fucking worst part that made me feel like barfing. My vibrators were sitting on top of everything else in their drawer. They were COVERED IN MENSTRUAL BLOOD. There were CHUNKS. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. It wasn’t my mom, she’s super prude and she passed menopause looong ago. It wasn’t me, I haven’t had a period in ~2 months because I am on the pill. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK REDDIT.
All of our doors have locks on them. I don’t know how the FUCK she got in or how long she was fucking around with my stuff. My parents’ room and my room have the same key so if my dad accidentally left his key out or forgot it in his door then she could have access to my room AAANYtime she wanted. Currently I have a giant chain and padlock on it too.
I furiously strode over to my parents’ room and woke up my dad. I told him what I had found. He said he’d handle it in the morning. This morning before work I told him that if he did not either get her into therapy or kick her out of the house then I was moving out. I finally made him choose, her or me. Today at work he fucking FINALLY sent her counselor an email giving the counselor a bare outline of the stuff going on here and asked for a recommendation for a therapist. Finally. Jesus christ.
So when we finally got home from work we marched into her room to see if she stole anything. We found a fuck ton of more used/stolen makeup, a box of swiffer duster replacements that actually reeked so badly that it made me cough and my eyes watered, and just TRASH. EVERYWHERE. I reached under her desk to pull more stuff out and my hand got stuck on the back of a fucking USED PAD. And underneath there were more. All the while she was just staring at us with raised eyebrows like we were crazy. I confronted her about the vibrator - I asked her if she did it, and she said “Yup”. I asked her if she knew how ridiculously unsanitary and disgusting that was and she just shrugged like we were bothering her or something. What the fuck.
This time she didn’t cry. She just watched us.
Right now my dad is making her clean everything up.
When I walked out I told her that we were NOT friends and said “don’t talk to me.” She said “OKAY” like “duh”. Like I was being unreasonable or whatever. I can’t look at her without wanting to barf. My stomach is all in knots.
You guys wanted an update? Here’s your update. I think what she did is incredibly fucked up and crossed so many lines. She could have cleaned the vibrators off and put them back and I’d never have known. She could have kept them or thrown them away. But the fact that she put them back COVERED IN BLOOD tells me she was trying to send me a fucked up little message - “I can get in and out of your room whenever I want and you can’t do anything about it.” I would move out if I could but the job market sucks and I can’t afford to live with roommates/by myself. My dad at least FINALLY got around to putting her in therapy. I have the vibrators ziplock-bagged as evidence. In the meantime I am moving ANYTHING I hold valuable to my boyfriend’s (underwear, books, private journals, it’s fucking lucky she has metal allergies or she’d be swiping my jewelry as well). She may someday get better, but that’s years down the line and in the meantime I am fucking sick to my stomach.”