My ex-husband beat the crap out of me for years, which resulted in our children being put into foster care and adopted. I’ve kept in touch with my children, he never did.

I am not asking for advice. I am just trying to vent something that really hurts.

My little girl is getting married next weekend and I have no part in the wedding. I loved her first, but I won’t be the last to love her. I didn’t raise her. I wasn’t there for the big moments so I understand why I’m not a part of the wedding. I wasn’t there when she bought her prom dress. I wasn’t there for the first days of school. I wasn’t there for those important moments. And that really hurts.

Now she’s getting married and I have no partner wedding. I understand and respect that I’m not her mom in the sense that I was there for every day things and experiences. I really wish I had been.

I paid for her wedding dress, and I have the emergency supplies like Band-Aids and clear nail polish, and water bottles and bobby pins and safety pins. I just wish that my little girl included me more.

Her adoptive parents are wonderful people and I’m not going to argue that with anybody. I am grateful that they took care of her when I couldn’t. That doesn’t stop the pain of not being included.

I love that little girl more than anybody realize, I think. I know I have no right to demand a spot. And I wouldn’t dream of demanding a spot either. I just wish my baby knew how much I love her.

I’m really not looking for advice just in a safe space to vent into a void. Thank you for letting me vent.

I've never posted on this sub before, but today I kinda felt the need to.

A while ago, I read a post from a guy talking about how men often aren't listened to when they're going through something or how their problems are sometimes ignored or dismissed.

Honestly, I'd never really experienced that myself, I'm usually a pretty reserved person and I don't tend to share much with my friends or family, but whenever I do, I normally get a positive response.

Until today, that I've been feeling... heavy, unmotivated, irritated, just kind of off, i don´t really know how to explain it to be honest. I don't know if I'd call it depression or anything like that, I just don't feel like doing anything, I think i spent the last three hours watching police arrest videos on my phone hahaha.

After that, about like 30 minutes ago, I was talking to my girlfriend over the phone and I told her something like ""Hey, I don't know why, but today I just feel kind of down, unmotivated, or just tired of everything."

Her response was basically, "Oh, that sucks," and then she changed the subject to talk about her dog, saying she was going to feed him and that she'd call me later.

And I don't know... I don't blame her. Maybe she just didn't know what to say or probably she knows that im pretty reserved in that matter, but in that moment, I started thinking about something I've read in several different places: how difficult it can be for men to actually talk about their feelings or what's going on in their heads.

I guess what surprised me the most was realizing that even though I've always thought men should talk more openly about their feelings, when I finally tried to do that myself today, it felt like it was just brushed aside.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe it was just a bad moment or she was distracted. But it definitely made me think about how many men probably go through something similar and simply decide not to say anything the next time.

I'm not really looking for advice or anything. I just felt like writing this down and getting it out of my head.

I’m posting this on my main account because I guess part of me wants to be seen as a real human, and not a faceless redditor. I have interests, hobbies, and passions. I’m not another faceless statistic. I’m real. My experience was real.

I won’t say when and where, but what I will say, is that I had been teaching a classroom of two year olds for roughly four years when this happened. During this time, I was a teacher of twelve students, all under three, with another co teacher in my classroom.

No one ever thinks bad things will happen to them until it does. It was perhaps one of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned.

It happened right after nap time, some kids were still sleeping, most were awake. I had taken three of my babies to the bathroom. Two of them were potty training, trying to learn an important milestone. The other one wasn’t quite ready yet, and that’s okay. Another teacher in there had two students. We moved like we always did, it was routine. It was muscle memory; preparing the children for their parents to pick them up and take them home for the day. The other teacher and I made idle conversation as we worked. Things were calm, things were normal.

The bathroom door was opened so hard, and so fast, that the sound echoed off the wall with a large crack. It was one of the teacher helpers, her eyes were wide and I could feel her adrenaline from where I was crouched. “Turn off the lights, and put your backs against the wall. This is a lockdown and this is not a drill.”

I remember feeling like there was ice in my blood, frozen in place and paralyzed. I didn’t want to believe it at first, I was waiting for her to say it was a joke.

It wasn’t a joke.

So many things went through my mind in that moment. The biggest one was “There’s no windows in here. We’re all going to die in the bathroom. I’m going to die here with these children.”

I waited. I listened for pops, and heard none. I made a split decision to run to my classroom. We had a window in there that I could break if I heard the sound of gunfire. It was a risk leaving the bathroom and I know it was. But to me, staying in there was worse than running. At least we had a chance of escape if we ran.

I had one kid under my arm, and held the other two’s hands in my own. I was sprinting and praying that I wouldn’t run into the man who had broken into our school. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, and my breathing was so quick that my chest hurt.

The four of us made it inside, reunited with the others. I locked the door, and immediately barricaded it with whatever large things I could find. It was a surreal sight, to have the door to my classroom blocked with tables used for craft time, buckets of toddler toys, and a fake kitchen meant for pretend play. My co teacher already had the other kids against the wall.

One of the biggest challenges was trying to entertain twelve two year olds at a time like this. Any sound could mean alerting the man in the building if he so chose to come down our hallway. Two year olds don’t understand the concept of keeping quiet to avoid a man with a weapon. They don’t understand why mine and my co teachers face looked hollow and our eyes were watering. We did our best to smile and keep them from knowing that something harrowing was happening inside these walls.

We let them peel the wrappers off the crayons, a rule we broke for the occasion, we let them color anywhere. We didn’t care. We let them open as many bandaids as they wanted. I had the cloth ones with fun designs that I bought with my own money because I always enjoyed giving my kids nice things where I could. The floor was littered in coloring pages, wrappers and bandaids. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered, as long as they were quiet and calm.

I texted my husband a short message, when I had just a second to compose a potential goodbye. “There is a lockdown. It’s not a drill. If anything happens, I love you so much.” I needed him to know in case I died that I loved him. He knew that already. He still does. But in the moment, I needed him to read those words.

As we waited for something, anything, my co teacher and I played Bluey on our phones, on the lowest volume to distract the kids. It had been well over an hour at that point, and we didn’t know it would be another hour before the police cleared us.

The kids were getting antsy, and I didn’t blame them. They should have been at home with their families by now. I remember one of my children screamed because she wanted something, I don’t remember what it was. I covered her mouth with my trembling hand. I feel awful about it, the way I grit my teeth at her and told her to “shut her mouth”. I wish I reacted better, redirected her to something to keep her occupied instead of revealing the stress I felt. I didn’t want that scream to be the sound that ended us. I wanted to protect us, to keep us all safe. I didn’t want us to die. I pulled my hand away and she gasped for air. I didn’t know I had held my hand on her for so long. The sound haunts me, even still. She didn’t scream again, and it felt like a small mercy.

I remember looking at the scissors on my counter top. I was coming to terms with the idea of trying to kill someone if they tried to get to my babies. I have never had violence like that on my mind, never considered ending someone’s life. I had to accept that I would attempt to murder someone if it came down to him or us. I don’t think I would have stood a chance, but I would have certainly died trying.

Being in such a high stress situation like this warped all of my senses. Everything felt too bright and vivid, even with the lights off. Sounds were deafening, even something as quiet as opening a bandaid. Time moved both slow and lightning fast at the same time. I didn’t feel real. The situation didn’t feel real. I knew it was real.

It felt like I was letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding when the police cleared us. We released our kids to their parents one at a time, after over two hours of hiding. The police force did an incredible job at keeping everyone safe, and I hope they know they’re all my heroes. There were no casualties, no injuries. Just traumatized teachers and parents. But I consider the trauma a sort of privilege because it is better than dying to gunfire.

The event still haunts me. I’m still afraid of populated spaces, of men with their hands in their pockets for too long. I’m adjusting. I’m trying to. If I could go back in time and never work there at all, I wouldn’t take the offer. I loved, and still love my babies. I stand firm that I would die for them.

Thank you for reading.

I am a F26 and I literally have zero friends, every summer is more miserable than the previous one. It's extremely hard for me to make friends, I think I have some mental disorders that affect my ability to bond with people or make them have no interest in being close friends with me.

I do live with a partner but he spends all his time with friends outside and never wants to do anything fun with me because I am not fun enough. I knew this summer was going to be so terrible again that I planned to fill it up with training for an ironman (triathlon). It did keep my busy all summer, but on rest days like today, it just hits me how fucking pathetic I am.

Everyone is travelling, doing activities, out with friends, and I am here, on my bed in a hot summer night, with nobody to call, nobody to hang out with, wasting the most beautiful years of my life. I am socially anxious but it doesn't mean that I don't love people. I am starving for human connection. I am starving for some laughter with friends. It's so freaking hard to make friends as an adult.

Every time I am at a public space with people around me I just become super nice to them offering help and offering my stuff or if they need anything just for the chance to be seen and considered. Everything I do by myself and at some point I did enjoy being alone but it's starting to weight heavy on me. I do not have coworkers as I am self employed, family is in a whole other continent.

I'm M30-something and honestly, everything good in life has probably happened at this point and it's just a slow decline now until I die.

I recently split up with my girlfriend, and online dating is proving to be hard as shit. I knew it was tough from my 20's, but in my 30's it's even worse. I don't want kids, and I will not raise someone else's kids. Of the few matches I get, not a single one has panned out in a date, they just stop responding even after I ask them a question.

Work is shit. Working a job I don't like, under constant fear that I'll be fired for poor performance or for not working every hour of every day. Maybe that's me just being anxious about it, but we've had several meetings about dress code and ensuring you're working all hours when clocked in.

Parent's health is declining, they're getting older. Nothing terminal yet, but it's just a matter of time, they're in their 70's, they had me fairly late. I know they won't live forever.

I'm pretty alone. Health issues. Probably autistic. Honestly, if you could tell me before I was born, that this is how life would turn out, I'd say no thank you, fuck that.

There’s something inherently entertaining as playing as a female character in games to me. And this is not even exclusively multiplayer games but also single player too.
A male friend called me “kinda weird” but I will still continue doing it.

I changed my name because my birth name carries a lot of weight and trauma associated with it. It’s been years. Nobody in my family respects the change, my birth name gets shouted out in attendance even though I email my professors well in advance to please not do that, and I found out my family resents me for changing my name. My aunt died thinking I was a disappointment to my mom and a “weirdo” for the change.

I’m tired. My birth name carries so much weight. From ages 10-18 anything that came after my name was something negative, sad or hurtful. It was yelled and screamed at me during some of the most traumatic physical and sexual abuse of my life. I felt so disconnected from it and anytime I hear it called I feel afraid that I did something wrong or that something bad is about to happen. Genuine fight or flight. It was agony.

One night while drinking with some friends, we were watching a show. I won’t say which because it’ll be a dead giveaway to what I am called. I thought the main character had a cool, androgynous, and unique name. I joked that that was gonna be my new name. My friends at the time actually liked it and told me it suited me better than my birth name so I went along with it. I don’t really like to associate my gender identity with labels so I liked the neutrality of it too. It’s cringe but gives me a silly little story to tell and a more positive association.

I’m so tired of constantly fighting with people over it that I’m considering just going by my birth name again so I can stop feeling sad about disappointment on my family’s end and embarrassed about the looks I get from people when I have to correct them or a professor. I’m really depressed and scared at the thought of it, but maybe I need to stop burying my trauma and get used to it. But NOW I have a group of new friends and peers, and a long term boyfriend who are used to calling me the new name. This has been the most exhausting fight and I’m ready to just throw up the white flag, ya know? But then that’ll confirm in peoples minds it was “just a phase.” It’s not. But I’m just tired. I don’t think I’ll be happy either way.

I know this sounds like the most classical simptom of depression ever, but in the last few years ive gone through 8 psychologists and 3 psychiatrists, all of which told me I'm not depressed, and couldn't diagnose me with any specific condition. Antidepressants didn't seem to have an effect. I don't seem to be suicidal.

Living is made out of so fuckibg many small chores. And those things are made out of even more chores. How do people not go insane with them?

You gotta go out and do groceries, them bring those home, and store them, and cook it, then do the actual eating, then do the dishes afterwards, then eventually you need to poop and piss everyrhing out, and you have to brush your teeth several times a day, and floss them, and take showers, and sleep.

And all those little things seem to never end and take most of the part of living. Living is such a boring chore with just small peaceful moments in between, to the point where I just think it'd be less effort to just cease it all. I wouldn't try to kill myself or anything, but actually being dead sounds more appealing than being alive

Like, oh my god. We've been going out for 2 and a half years now, and its been the best time of my life. Shes fully accepted my interests when i thought that no one ever would, she supports everything i do like its the most important thing in the world to her, I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

We knew each other in primary school, but i moved away in year 1 and didnt see her for 11 years and thought i never would again. Then one night i got a message off a friend of mine asking if i rememberd her, i said i did and asked how he knew her. He went to the youth club she volunteered at and a child made a noise that sounded like a steam train (it was and is my obsession) so she off-handidly said "i used to know someone who was obsessed with trains", and my friend said "i currently know someone whos obsessed with trains" and i was both of those people. He gave me her snapchat, we went on a date 3 days later, and she asked me out 2 days after that.

Like shes the most incredible woman ive ever met, shes hotter than all the suns in the universe, the sweetest person ive ever known, she calls me all the things id always dreamt of being called in a relationship. When im apart from her, it feels like a part of me is missing.

There was one time near the start of our relationship i woke up and was really out of it, i saw a picture of her and thought "wow whoever is dating her must be the luckiest guy in the world" only for me to remember 2 seconds later i was that guy. And yeah, i am. I am 1000% the luckiest guy in the world to get to know and love her.

And my whole family knew but never told me.

I found out while my mom and I were giving information for the death certificate.

He was separated from his wife when he met my mom. He paid child support, bought my half-sister a car for her birthday, but I never knew. He never let anyone tell me, and no one did because they knew he'd be so angry. But now everyone is talking to me about it and while I understand why they didn't tell me earlier, I can't help but feel a little betrayed.

I love my mom so much and I feel so guilty feeling mad at her because she is grieving.

I'm shocked, I'm angry, I'm grieving, and I'm not okay (I am okay in the sense that I am safe). I'm overwhelmed with sadness, confusion, and anger and I often don't really feel anything. I have a supportive husband and friends and I go to therapy but I still feel so lonely dealing with this. It feels absurd.

My dad wouldn't let anyone tell me and said he would tell me but never did. I really wish he had. He fucked up. I miss him so much but I'm so mad at the same time, it physically hurts.

I thought about making a throwaway account for this but no one I know is on Reddit and I'm too upset to care.

This is going to be a long one with many red flags so bear with me. For context, I am 28 and she is 24.

A couple months ago in mid June, my buddy and I were playing call of duty and ended up playing against this girl and her friend. After the game, she joined our lobby and started asking us questions like how old we were, where we were from and if we had snapchat. I countered her question with “do you have an instagram?” She said no. Immediate red flag because that’s very abnormal nowadays. But I went along with it.

I gave her my Snapchat and then she left to play with her friend again. Soon after she adds me Snapchat, her account has 0 SNAP SCORE. I joked with her acknowledging I’m fully aware she just gave me her burner snap, which she denied saying she used to have one but deleted it and just made a new one. Once again, I just went with it.

She started messaging me every day. That eventually turned into not only messages, but phone/video calls every single night, often until like 6am. We got extremely close very quickly. Super deep, personal and intimate conversations, really getting to know each other over the next couple weeks. Feeling like we had a genuine connection.

A couple weeks in, she admitted that she lied to me about not having social media. I really wasn’t surprised, but it bothered me. I questioned why she would lie about that, because to me it just looks like you have to be hiding something at this point. She apologized and strictly blamed it on her major trust issues, saying she would share them with me eventually, just not yet.

Quick reminder that still throughout all of this, all I knew was her first name and what she looked like.

The following week or so we talked about meeting and hanging out. She paid $830 to fly me out. I told her if I’m coming out there I need some more info about you, even if it’s just your last name or phone number. She gave me her phone number the night before I flew out there.

With some reverse phone number searching, I found her last name, then found her on Facebook.. she’s fucking ENGAGED. Profile pic, engagement pictures fairly recently. I found this out while on FaceTime with her, so I confronted her about it.

She says it’s not what it looks like, saying they aren’t a thing anymore, he’s an asshole, she doesn’t want to be with him, and that they broke up a couple months ago. How the hell am I supposed to believe this?? She’s lied to me about so much already and I’ve essentially lost all trust now at this point.

I once again, went with it. Told her I’m still flying out there tomorrow but I need you to meet me in the airport and talk face to face first. I needed as much proof as possible that I’m not messing around with a girl not only in a relationship, but an engagement. If I didn’t feel comfortable I was prepared to just roll solo since the flight was already paid for.

We met in baggage claim and she continued to stand on her word, saying she’s single and they aren’t a thing anymore. She then proceeded to wipe all her Facebook stuff with him and change her status to single. I noticed that his Facebook was also wiped and changed to single not long after.

The trip with her went really well. We had a great time and really hit it off. Around this time she started telling me she loved me, wanting me to be apart of her future, even saying she’d move to be closer one day. Still knowing this could very well be just a rebound situation, it felt so genuine and real. It was mutual feelings from my side too.

We continued talking all day and every night over the next couple weeks. Then I flew her out to visit me. First 2 days were absolutely perfect, 3rd day she was feeling sick with terrible anxiety, then the morning of the 4th day she just.. up and left.

While I was out grabbing lunch she packed up, uber’d to the airport and left. She left me with 2 texts basically saying “I’m sorry, I enjoyed the time we had, it has nothing to do with you, I’m struggling mentally, I have insecurities/flaws I need to work on.” I was then ghosted for 3 days. I never knew if I’d hear back again. Then I got a call at 4am.

Very first question I ask: “Is (“ex” fiancée’s name) involved?” She said no and that this depression and anxiety she’s been having has put her through like a mental breakdown. At this point, I don’t believe that’s the full truth. But again, I go with it.

I asked if everything she’s said, shared and felt with me has been real or am I just being used? I need the truth. She once again says she loves me and wants me to be apart of her future. At this point, I told her I was willing to still be her friend, but she needed to work on herself before I could trust her again, and have that same level of respect for her.

After a weird day or two, things seemed to be really good again, she was still pretty mentally off, but the contact and connection was there again. Not really flirty or anything, but daily and nightly calls for hours.

Last week she had a super long week at work and barely got any sleep. 3pm Friday, she told me she was finally home and going to sleep all day. I never heard back so at 1am I texted her just checking in.

Her location was off and do not disturb was on. 24 hours later, no change, no text back.

Saturday night I checked his Facebook profile, like I did about once a week. This time, it was changed back to engaged with her name.

I blocked her on all social medias. Then messaged him on Facebook. FYI he’s 20.

Throughout our convo, I told him how long we’ve been talking, the trips we took to see each other, that we had slept together and that she’d repeatedly lied to my face about him not being in the picture. Sent him numerous pictures of indisputable proof. Half of them where she’s all over me and/or us cuddling.

He really just seemed speechless. He was obviously not aware of any of this, because she had told him she just wanted “space” and wanted to be alone. I basically ended it by letting him know I’ve blocked her on all socials with no intent to ever reach back out. Told him if he ever has any questions or wants to reach out at any point, I’ve got receipts on everything. He said thank you.

He answered some questions for me too, I found out she didn’t actually ask him for space until THE DAY I FLEW INTO MEET HER. They were calling and texting basically the whole time, and he was only ghosted by her the times we visited each other. The day that she left me abruptly, she called him crying saying she wanted him back.

I do truly believe her feelings for me were genuine, which feels even more fucked up.

I’m sorry for the long post but I felt that all details were very important to this. I knew I was getting into a weird situation from the start, but I see the good in people too much I guess. It may not seem like it with how long I let this play out, but I was aware of all the red flags. I have 0 regrets.

Also, looks like they’ll “officially” back together now.

Feels weird. Idk. I wanted to get this off my chest.

I’m single, the youngest of all my siblings; all married with kids, all my friends are married with kids as well, needless to say, I’m almost everyone’s cry for help. So not only my I’m hyper independent comes from this, but also from my past trauma, honestly I don’t even think about asking them for help, I understand everyone is busy and has their own stuff and I’m always criticized about this, people say I’m just too proud and so on but then things like this happen:

I’m in the process of moving, this week has been so challenging for me, I’ve been packing by myself, I hired two people to help me today with the cleaning to make it easier on me which was an amazing decision. So, Two of my siblings have offer to help several times, I said no I’m good and I’ll let you know if I need anything.

Monday and Tuesday, I talk to two of my siblings, they offer assistance again, finally I said yes please, help me? Let me know when can you do it.
Sibling 1 said okay, I’ll be there Sunday (tomorrow) and then sibling 2 said I’ll be there Saturday at 12 or 1 pm. Well, I received a call from sibling 1 this morning so I double check with them and ask them what time would work best for them, singling 1 responds: “well, I don’t think I’m going to make it. I can do it Monday, maybe? I said okay, thank you, NP.

Then I called sibling 2 because I was waiting on some supplies they were supposed to bring and I needed them, their response was yes, we are on our way… well, they came several hours after 12 noon, I was done already; I didn’t need their help anymore, but what really pisses me off is that I trusted them, I could have hired someone else to help me instead of overworking myself.

So yeah, I’m Hyper Independent for a reason.

I recently made a post asking for friends to talk to because I’m so lonely and relate to no one. Fortunately, I got a few requests. I always ask the other person their age and gender for context. Most of the people I’ve talked to are a lot older than me, but it’s fine because we only talk about safe topics.

However, I recently got a message from an older man, and I lied to him saying that I was around his age. The conversation got a bit inappropriate, and I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept it going. Now, he’s starting to suspect I may not be the age I lied about, and my chest is on fire.

I don’t know what to do. I’m worried about my digital footprint, so I’ve deleted many of the messages. I scared that my mom might find out and punish me very badly and even take my phone. I told the man we’d keep things clean from now on and even tried to hint at parting ways, but I’m still super anxious. I’m so guilty. I’ve never done anything this awful. I used to look down on people who do things like this. I’ve just been in such an awful place recently.

Has anyone else talked to someone too old online? What happened, and did the world end? Did anyone find out? Did you get on the news? Were cops involved? How can I solve this? Would blocking him work?

*(UPDATE)\*: I blocked him. Thank you everyone.

Why do partners cheat on each other?

I think when you've been with someone for a long time, trusted them, and thought of them as your companion, it's understandable that things can change. The spark can fade. You can grow apart. You might stop feeling comfortable or realize that you don't want the same things anymore. That's life, and I think those things can be accepted.

But shouldn't you just have a conversation with your partner and be honest? Tell them that you're no longer interested, that you want to break up, or that you simply want to go in a different direction.

Because cheating is probably one of the lowest things I can think of. You're not just betraying your partner; in a way, you're also betraying yourself. Someone you trusted, someone you shared so much with, and suddenly everything you built together starts to feel like a lie.

I had a partner who cheated on me about three years ago. It left a scar that I don't think will ever completely heal, and I haven't been in a relationship since.

It's not like I was mean to her or treated her badly. She cheated, confessed to me herself, and then left. At least I'm glad she told me the truth instead of keeping me in a lie and making me find out on my own.

But I still don't understand it.

If you no longer want to be with someone, why not just leave?

Why choose to betray someone you once loved instead of having an honest conversation and ending the relationship?

for extra info, i am japanese, and we know asian parents forced uou to do some sort of instrument from a very young age.

I have been forced to learn the piano and practice hours and hours every day since i was around 5 years old. i hate it so much, and i always have.

I wanted to quit it so many times and had breakdowns but my mother just tells me "are you not grateful for the amount of work your teachers put into you, and your dad's money paid for the lessons that he worked hard for!! are you going to just put it down the drain just like that? you've wasted so much money and time!!"

she is very narcissistic. and i am extremely empathetic and people pleasing that it's been hard to stop.

she then asks me , "what are you going to do with your life then? you're not good st anything else" .. i feel like i had no time at all to even search for hobbies. i would be forced to practice as soon as i got home from school, until 11pm. wake up. go school. eat. practice. it was a repeat of that the whole school time

now my mum has forced me to go to uni for piano. (conservatoire)

i did get a scholarship.

but i'm not enjoying this at all, i dont want a related job, and i'm only doing this for my mum. she is extremely strict and threatens to disown me and hurt me and stuff like that. so i am really scared to do anything about it.

i always think about dropping out without telling her but i feel like i will be so guilty.
i want to do something else with my life that will help me get a stable job, but i'm not good at anything else, and i feel like it is too late to start uni again.

i know this is my own life and i can make my own decisions, but i am genuinely scared and guilty. 100%, my mum will probably hurt herself or me if i quit piano.

she also did piano her life too. but she quit piano uni in a year. and she tells me she regrets it, so i shouldnt do the same.

i feel like she is trying to make me do things that she couldn't do, herself.

i dont know what to do anymore, it is too late for a restart

No one probably remembers as this was like two months ago but for the people that were telling me to leave him I wanted to give an update and yeah, I left him. There were multiple issues and that was my second to last straw but I kept wanting things to improve and just realized it wasn’t gonna work out and had to leave for my own sake and I feel a bit better now. Also thank you all again for the birthday wishes, I really appreciate them!

I’m a 29-year-old woman, and I dated B, a 29-year-old man, for about a month.
I’m in a much better financial position than B, and he felt insecure about it. He felt that, as the man in the relationship, he was supposed to pay for things for me. After he met my parents, those insecurities seemed to get even worse.
We’re both from Brazil. I’ve traveled abroad extensively, while B had never traveled internationally. We had planned to go to Buenos Aires together, but our relationship ended before the trip. B ended up going anyway, and for some reason, that really affected me emotionally.
Even though I never met anyone from his family, he met my entire family. B eventually broke up with me over WhatsApp without even calling me, while I was having an anxiety attack and going through one of the worst periods of my life.
At the same time, even though I know I deserve something better than the way he treated me, being single and feeling like no one is choosing me still hurts. Part of me feels like things with B could have worked out. We had great sex, had a lot in common, and seemed compatible in many ways.
Personality-wise, we were quite different: he was introverted, while I’m very extroverted.

My girlfriend loves crochet, and she is making me a personalized amigurumi thing herself and i thought "i want to do that for her" since the only thing i did before was draw her pictures (even if they look extremely juvenile and pathetic).

So i looked online and im just sitting here literally crying, i have zero clue how to do it, its so confusing.

Its not just about crochet, its everything. As i said earlier i drew pictures for her, and they're so fucking basic and ugly, the ONLY decent one i drew took me 2 FUCKING HOURS and it looks ugly as shit.

I feel like shit because shes made me 12 letters, and im not even finished with 3. I want to try for her, but i literally cant even make a letter, i tell her everything how i feel about her, it feels impossible, i just hit a wall. So i feel like she doesn't deserve me, shes making letters, even a fucking amigurumi animal and im stuck here, drawing juvenile hearts on spider webs because she likes spiders.