Wish I had an ostrich as a friend. I bet they’re fun friends for the most part.

Not me, post was empty when I got here!

I panicked, ok?!

No idea! If I were to guess, I’d say privacy reasons, leave no trace, but that’s speculation on my part.

A pity, though, that we live in times where conversations get downright deleted due to privacy concerns…

Edit: not blaming the deletion, blaming the times, to be clear.

S… shit?

Yes.

Oh, they said just that there has to be a hint of hope somewhere in the back of my mind, otherwise why act as such.

Edit: to clarify, nothing malicious or unbecoming.

Honestly, I don’t even understand what that side’s deal is anymore, which is why I’ll stick with my Craftworld/Harley mess, tyvm. Barely feels like a plot line, rather closer to a plot contrivance to allow players to add Drukhari and Raider units to an Aeldari army… Heh, maybe they thought it’d get people to stop complaining about the lack of new Asuryani models, lol…

I hope we’re alone in the Universe.

I came here to do sex, drugs, and 40k minis! And I ran out of Wraithbone primer!

Oh, I bet it pains them greatly!🥺

My guiding principle is “it isn’t mine-mine until I customise it.”

Informing oneself is THE act of rebellion against a system which wants to keep one guessing!

I sin, you sin, we sin, four! Leave your knickers at the door!

As it damned well should, at the very least! Holy Jesus!

I mean, can you imagine having to pull a straight face when Mr. Jones, the 60-year-old barber-cum-snake oil salesman presents you his fresh 12-year-old bride?!

Or those Princes who married 6-7-year-olds, ffs! I mean, that’s just fucked up, in so many ways besides the mere ““social contract”” bit…

This is, like… “to be fair to Polio, it only started being demonised once we found out what it was…”

What in the Holy Name of Logic is this?!

So it’s fair to say that being a plumber is objectively the best career choice for a tube-based lifeform.

You’re very welcome, glad something resonated!

Also, yep, totally get that, too. But, unfortunately… our boundaries are for us, not for others, they’re how much we accept/allow/offer/etc., as a self-imposed limit. All you can do is give both her and yourself space from the tension. It may well be inevitable, but no sense in forcing it.

What I did with granddad was consistently and constantly repeating the idea that he would need specialised medical care, of which I am not capable. In addition, he’d need mobility assistance, assistance with grooming, with cooking, with cleaning, with feeding, and I told him straight from the beginning that I don’t do roommates, nor do I do house calls. I’d repeat this idea every time he’d hit a medical hurdle, and I’d casually drop nice places I’d find into the conversation. I didn’t force anything, I didn’t pester him, and when he got aggressive, I’d end the subject and move on to something practical.

He asked me to find him a spot after about two years of this arrangement. It was that self-induced coma I mentioned which woke him up, as one of my aunts and another neighbor had a really hard time moving an unconscious 70kg old fuck off the mattress. And I only made it back there after he’d already been admitted into the hospital (he came to after about 3 days).

That’s how I’d go about things if I had to do it again, stand firm with my limits, and reinforce them assertively and with patience whenever needed. I think part of the reason why it’s hard to accept the possibility of moving to a home is because they can’t even conceive of it, plus because they’re convinced they’re right in their assumption that we’d drop our lives and play the 24/7 caretakers.

Please, try to focus on the fact that YOU know where you stand. You know your limits on this, you know what you are and aren’t willing to offer, you have full control over those and nobody can take that away from you, let alone through mere disbelief.

Edit: it may or may not be a factor, but guilt was a pretty big kick in the groin for me. I don’t really have any advice for dealing with it other than constantly reminding yourself of the fairness of what is asked of you, but in my case it was comorbid with other trauma-based maladaptations. Anyway, hope with all my heart it won’t chew at your toes as much as it did mine, and that things’ll progress as peacefully as possible for you!

I’m sorry to hear you going through this, to me it felt like having to drag a heavy rock tied to my throat. My granddad did the same to mum and I and it was… draining.

He completely let himself go after grandma died (he was about 67-70 then), stopped doing stuff, and lost a leg due to poor circulation and diabetes. He expected mum to do his every bidding, even to move out of her apartment with her boyfriend and everything on the 24th of December, because he suddenly didn’t like the countryside anymore and wanted to switch. It was, of course, a ploy to force himself to become a flatmate. Eventually, mum was diagnosed with cancer and had to undergo chemo, and he still had her running errands the day after, in between bouts of her regurgitating her ass off.

After she died, that expectation fell on me, as he was my main paternal figure growing up (the grandparents were the dominators in the family, mum and I the dominated, long story). I said “fuck that” faster than he could blink. I did everything I could do for him, like scheduling medical appointments, paying his bills, and once he couldn’t function by himself anymore (overadministered insulin and put himself in a brief Christmas coma) finding him a spot at an old folks’ home, a 20-minute cab ride from my front door (we lived in different cities, moved him to mine). Shit went South fast because he couldn’t stand not being in control, but that’s a different story, and also where our interactions stopped for the most part.

The point is, nobody has any right to impose on you in any way, even your parents. Yes, they did raise and provide for us, but we do not owe them the same by default. That was their responsibility for making us in the first place. This type of caretaking has to be earned.

I struggled with this feeling for a long time in my twenties (same, about mum), but I realised that the sense I had for my “given” family (a.k.a. the one I didn’t choose) was that I’ll be there for any medical or otherwise serious emergencies, but we will not live together, nor will I wipe their ass. Unless we get along REALLY well and they enrich my life with their presence! Otherwise, I’ll do what’s strictly necessary to keep them alive, and that’s that.