For anyone confused and making “parenting is hard and parents do their best” apologetics in the comments, this comic portrays long term, systematic child abuse and survivors recognize it immediately. If a parent’s “best” involves abuse of any kind, it simply isn’t good enough, and no victim owes their abuser a single thing.

For any fellow survivors, I see you and it’s not your fault. They made choices when they raised you in a climate of terror, abuse, blame, and cruelty, you had no choice. Leave them to the natural consequences of their choices, your one wild life is your own, don’t let them take any more of it than they already have.

I have strong reactions to cold. My hands and feet won’t warm back up and begin to sting and ache. My back, neck, shoulders, and jaw clench and tighten to the point that it becomes painful. Once I get properly cold, it doesn’t matter how many pairs of socks I wear or if I have extra sweaters, the pain continues until I can either take a hot shower/bath to warm back up. I’ve been like this since I was a kid.

I live in the south of the US currently, and summers here are hot and humid, fairly brutal at times. I fully recognize that it gets very uncomfortable outside during the summer. I don’t, personally, think that it means we need to keep the AC at full blast on its lowest setting all day long like my coworkers do. But I’m definitely in the minority and so summers are painful for me. I usually take several walks around the block to try and warm up throughout the day. If the pain gets bad enough, I’ll use a small space heater or a heating pad to relieve the pain until I can get home.

I honestly miss living in Madrid where AC was not the general rule and, though hot at times, I rarely got the cold tension shivers that I get all the time here in the South. On the other hand, my partner and I save so much money on utilities in the summer compared to my friends and coworkers cause we use the AC sparingly. So benefits and drawbacks I guess. Crazy how different we all are!

I like to decorate mine! Our previous one rusted out so I painted the numbers onto our new one (instead of using stickers) and then painted gold ginko leaves all over it with some bugs hiding around them.

Alcohol and I had quite a destructive relationship for all of my 20s and I am fortunate to have survived it. Got sober at 30, relapsed over Covid, clawed my way back, and coming up on my 5 year (take 2) anniversary in July. As a whole, I’ve been sober for 11 of the past 13 years and have no desire to pick up the bottle again.

My partner is a normal drinker in that he will have a single hard cider once or twice a month on a Friday while playing League with friends. I’m at the point where a six pack can sit in the fridge for a couple months and it doesn’t phase me in the least. If he drank more and/or more frequently, I’d likely need to adjust some boundaries though.

I’m a firm believer that people should make their own choices and that what others do with their own bodies is no business of mine, but I do think there should be an increase in education around alcohol and it’s physical, mental, emotional, and social/relational effects.

My mom died of breast cancer at 62 and was a heavy wine drinker. She kept drinking “moderately” (i.e. almost daily) after chemo and the first remission. Her cancer is not her fault, but I can’t help but wonder if she would have had longer had she quit when she got the first diagnosis.

I’m legitimately glad that your personal experience of Christianity has been a net positive for you.

I was raised in a very standard First Assembly of God church until I was 12 and then my parents pivoted back to Catholicism. The experiences I had growing up in an evangelical paradigm were horrifying, especially in hindsight. I’m still unpacking the religious trauma in therapy today, nearly three decades after walking away.

So, based on my personal experience, the day to day Christians are precisely the greedy and violent ones that fucked me up, abused me relentlessly, and destroyed my sense of self-worth, not the blowhards on the news. Many of us are walking wounded from the divisive, hate-based, soul-crushing doctrines we were raised in under the guise of Christian love.

I’m in therapy for childhood religious trauma and I have a visceral reaction to people like this. I’m fine with personal beliefs, believe whatever the fuck you want. However, my sense of self worth was systematically destroyed by evangelical Christianity and emotional abuse, so yeah, I still feel pretty triggered around vocal folks. I also live in the South. Send help.

My partner and I are consistently surprised when we realize that a friend, coworker, family member etc. actively dislikes their partner and/or doesn’t consider them a friend.

Bizzare and hostile is a fitting description, I couldn’t hack it in a relationship where I didn’t feel deep and genuine friendship for the other person. I feel like it’s foundational to establishing the type of trust that feels indispensable to me in a committed partnership.

So, I’m not into words or images from pop culture etc. (that’s just my taste, I think people should get what they like regardless) but I have three larger pieces on me. All three are original artwork by the artist, I gave them an idea of the general imagery/vibe I was going for and then handed them the reins. Also chose someone who’s dominant art style correlated with the style I wanted. I love art and it makes me happy to carry beautiful and original artwork with me wherever I go.

I beg your pardon, but what is, ‘The Weekend’?

This makes me so happy.

Pretty sure his friends call him Alexander of Macedonia.

Same with my mom and cancer. One Saturday she took a long nap and missed a pain medication dose, as my dad thought she’d be better off getting the rest. Never got back up unassisted and was gone within 10 days. She never would have opted for euthanasia anyway, super Catholic, but it was crazy how fast, and then how slowly, the whole thing unfolded.

I have multiple plans in place for myself if I end up facing down the same fate. Religion wasn’t catching for me so if I get a terminal diagnosis, I’m living it up and then Irish goodbying. Really sorry about your dad.

My mom died 5 months ago from MBC at 62. I was fortunate enough to be with her for the last few days. My husband and I drove overnight to get there, my brother and his partner did the same. My father and my aunt and us all took turns sitting with her, caring for her, doing everything we could to surround her with comfort and love.

The night she passed, we were all in the living room, she was in a hospital bed at this point, and we were all seated around her, watching a movie. She had been unconscious for days at that point but, for some reason, I had this feeling that she was looking at me. Logically, I know she wasn’t and that she was unconscious etc. But it still felt that way and I looked over at her and no one else was looking, they were all glued to the screen, I’m struggling to explain this but it felt like for a moment, everything stopped and her and I were alone in the room.

I blew her a kiss and waved goodbye, it was such a tender moment and somehow felt so intimate despite everyone being there. No one else noticed, it was just her and I for that brief moment. We were close and loved each other a lot, imperfectly at times, but a lot. I’m so grateful for that memory.

She took her last breath about 30 minutes later. We surrounded her bedside, held her hands and feet, I stroked her face and whispered to her as she slipped away. Yet, it was that brief, time-frozen moment when it felt like we said goodbye to each other that really wrecks me and comforts me at the same time. I miss her a lot. Fuck cancer.

“Cause love’s such an old-fashioned word And love dares you to care for The people on the edge of the night And love dares you to change our way of Caring about ourselves This is our last dance This is our last dance This is ourselves Under pressure.”