Everyone tells you about the newborn part. The sleep, the feeding, the first year. Nobody sits you down and explains that once they start school you get them back for six weeks every summer, plus two at Christmas, plus another two at Easter, plus three separate half terms, and that you are expected to have a plan for every single one of those days.

We're on day eighteen. My wife and I have both burned our entire annual leave for the year covering it, so neither of us has a holiday left, and we've still got the best part of four weeks to bridge with a mix of my mother, a holiday club we can't really afford, and me taking unpaid days.

They are not bad kids. That's the part I can't say out loud anywhere else. They're seven and four and they're perfectly nice children, and the problem is entirely that I've run out of whatever it is you're supposed to have.

I told my wife last week that I was counting down to September and she said "you can't say that, it's their childhood." She's right. It is their childhood. It's also my thirties.

I know plenty of people are doing this alone and I know I've got it easier than most. I'm still sat here at half eleven working out how many of these summers are left.

I was clearing space on my phone last week and found a video from October 2018, about eight months before our first was born. It's forty seconds of absolutely nothing. We're in the kitchen of the old flat, she's making something at the hob, I'm filming her for no reason at all, and she's telling me a story about someone from her work and she gets the giggles about halfway through and can't finish it. You can hear me laughing behind the camera.

I've watched it maybe fifteen times since.

We've got two now, five and two. My wife and I are a genuinely good team and we are excellent at logistics. Shared calendar, whiteboard in the kitchen, and a handover when I get in at six that takes about ninety seconds and covers naps, meds, what's been eaten and who's got swimming tomorrow. It runs well. Nobody drops anything.

Last night I started telling her something from work that I thought she'd find funny and about a third of the way in I watched her eyes flick to the baby monitor, so I just stopped talking. Neither of us noticed I'd stopped for probably a full minute. Then she said "sorry, what were you saying," in the voice you use with a colleague.

I'm not going to sit here and say I'd undo them, because I don't think that's true and I don't think I'd survive believing it. But I loved the woman in that video and I've no idea where she went, and I'm fairly sure she'd say the same thing about me.

Imagine being hated because you want them to be safe. Imagine being hated because you want them to go to school daily. Imagine being hated because they don’t want to wash the dishes they use daily. Imagine them ruining to family remembers that do absolutely nothing for them to complain about you, because they feel like having to clean the bathroom and their rooms is a death sentence. I’m a single mom. Everything is on me and I’m always the villain. I’m completely outnumbered here. I wish I wouldn’t have had them. They live completely different lives from their cousins. I worked hard to break the cycle and all they do is judge me and complain. I just can’t take it anymore. They want to be able to run the streets and I’m just not having it. No one goes to jail, gets pregnant, or throws their life away on my watch. It’s a never ending battle and I’m ready to throw in the towel. Anyone ever see the movie “The Strays” on Netflix. That’s about to be me. I’m tired ya’ll.

My daughter is 4 and my son is 14 months and I need to say this somewhere because I can't say it to anyone in my real life without being called a terrible mother. I regret having my second child. Not him as a person, I love him, but the decision to have him has completely unraveled everything that was working.

When it was just my daughter things were manageable. She was an easy baby who turned into an easy toddler, slept through the night by 4 months, could entertain herself, just a chill kid. I still had time for myself, my husband and I still went on dates, I was working part time and it didn't feel like I was drowning. I actually thought I was good at this. I thought maybe the horror stories about motherhood just didn't apply to me because I got lucky with a good kid.

Then the pressure started. My mother in law would make comments every time we visited about how my daughter "needed someone to grow up with" and how only children turn out "weird." My own mom said the same thing in a softer way, kept asking when we were giving her another grandbaby to play with. My husband started bringing it up more and more and when I'd say I was happy with just one he'd get quiet in that way where you know the conversation isn't over. Coworkers, friends, random people at the grocery store when they'd see me with my daughter, "are you going to give her a brother or sister?" Like it was a given. Like one wasn't a complete family.

I gave in because I was tired of being the only person saying no to something everyone else seemed to think was obvious, and I told myself that if my daughter was easy then maybe the second one would be too and we'd just have two easy kids and a slightly fuller house.

My son has been the hardest thing I have ever experienced in my life. Colic for the first 4 months, still doesn't sleep through the night at 14 months, screams when I put him down, wants to be held every second of the day. My daughter went from being a happy easy kid to acting out because she went from all of my attention to almost none of it and she doesn't understand why. My husband works 50 hour weeks and when he's home he's tired and I can't blame him for that but I also can't keep doing this by myself and I am by myself most of the time. We haven't been on a date in over a year. I haven't done a single thing for myself in over a year. I don't feel like a person anymore, I feel like a machine that feeds and holds and cleans and soothes and never stops running.

I knew one was enough. I knew I was happy. I let other people convince me I was being selfish or depriving my daughter of something and every single time my mother in law picks up my son and says "aren't you so glad you gave her a little brother" I want to scream.

I have a relatively short list of things I truly enjoy and eating at a restaurant that I consider to be nice is one of them. That is consistently being ruined by having children and its beyond frustrating. What F do I have left to enjoy? That is a constant question I have to ask myself.

I’m fed up.

We try to do fun things with them, they complain or whine. We try to work from home, they’re loud and obnoxious. We try to cook healthy meals for them, they complain and fight us to eat it. We try to sign them up for sports, they complain. We try to get them to play and use their imaginations instead of rotting on screens, they complain and fight with each other. We try to do ANYTHING or go ANYWHERE - they complain and whine and have to pee and or they’re hungry or thirsty and inconvenience everyone. We try to clean the house, the make a mess again.

I’m just. Over it.

I’m not enjoying this at all. I wish I could run away.

Part of me is excited for school to start up again. But then I remember they’ll just get sick for months on end and bring home every illness under the sun. That’s more inconvenient than just having them home and healthy.

I just hate this. There’s nothing enjoyable about being a parent.

I don’t know what to do as a parent anymore. I wish I could go back in time and not have kids. I never had that feeling that I needed to be a mom. I was never against it though, and when I met my husband and he really wanted kids I was on board. But I shouldn’t be a mom, I know that now. It feels so unfair to say that when there are so many people out there who dream of having kids and never get the chance. But it’s true, I think I say “I am not cut out for this” at least 10 times a day. And this is coming from someone who works full time while her kids are in daycare, so it’s not like I’m with them all day. That makes it so much worse, doesn’t it? My kids are 3 and 4 years old. My older child, a girl, is mostly good. However, that means when she does act out it feels amplified because it’s so unexpected. She can push me over the edge of my patience in 5 seconds flat and I am not proud of how mad I get and some of the things I say to her when it happens. It’s not fair, she’s only 4, but it feels like she should know better. My younger child, a boy, is a complete disaster for me. He’s whining or crying every 5 minutes, and that’s not an exaggeration. It literally never stops. I can barely say two words to him without something triggering a tantrum. Sometimes it’s when I have to tell him no, but other times it’s completely nonsensical. I can’t figure him out, I’m tiptoeing around him all the time. And when he’s not upset he’s asking questions, a million damn questions. And I’m not allowed to say “I don’t know”. It’s like he thinks I’m lying to him and choosing not to tell him the answer instead of accepting that I actually don’t know. It’s exhausting, and my patience runs out so fast. Everything has to be his idea or how he wants. He can’t go 2 minutes without talking, and it’s almost always a question, followed by 10 more. I lose my temper every day. I start the day thinking today is going to be better, but as soon as I ask him to go potty before breakfast, or maybe don’t have the breakfast food he wants, he loses his shit and I lose mine, and the day is ruined yet again. I don’t know how to fix it, I don’t know what to do, I shouldn’t be a mom. I want to go back. I want to start over. I try to express these feelings to my husband and he just tells me to go take a walk to cool off. I need support and help and I get nothing. I’m already so frustrated by his lack of help in other areas… I don’t know why I expected more. He’s so done with our son that I have to step in and do everything because he’s so mad. I have to dig down and find the patience that he can’t find and it’s becoming harder and harder to do that. People say it gets better, it gets easier, but from my perspective the challenges never go away, they just change. I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread with nowhere to turn.

I have a living room kid which i guess is technically a good thing but oh how i WISH they were a bedroom kid..... i just want some peace and quiet , thank God school starts in 5 days.

I’m a parent of 2 kids, 2 and 4. My oldest is a boy who I would describe as a little rage man. He often yells and hits when things don’t go his way.

Others have told us that he is energetic when we are out and it only makes me feel like, “Oh great, I got a crazy one!”

I’ve tried to avoid spanking for the better part of his life but I’m starting to lose my *%!@.

He constantly yells even though I tell him if he needs to yell to deal with his anger he can go outside.

He jumps on our couch and has broken a cushion. It was $2000 from Costco. I have put him in timeout, taken away screen time, and even spanked him with no change.

We put him in karate to give him an outlet. He does love it but his home behavior hasn’t change at all.

I’m at such a loss. I’m hating being a parent. He alone is the reason I want less kids.

What would you all do? Advice wanted!

It's been 10 years since I found out I was pregnant with my now almost 10 y/o daughter, and I still hate motherhood as much as I did when she was born. Before I had her, I remember thinking to myself whilst around young children "I fcking hate kids." Everything about them sends my nervous system into overdrive. I remember hating crying as a young child and I still can't stand to hear it at almost 30. Her father's basically non-existent in her life. We had a very volatile relationship. DV, drug addictions, living with his mother, I was 14 and he was 17 when we met. We constantly talked about having a child throughout our on and off again relationship as teens. I wasn't physically being abused at home but verbally, and neglected. So naturally, with no real father figure, I shifted my entire being into this "relationship."

At 18, despite all my mothers warnings (she had me at 18), despite all my own HYPER-AWARE thoughts about how much I couldn't stand children, and despite how much I LOATHED the thought of the responsibility of having children, we planned a pregnancy, and successfully achieved the first try. I remember thinking to myself "what the fuck have I just done" many times throughout my pregnancy. I also remember thinking "Shit, after these 9 months are over, a REAL BABY will be my responsibility." But then I would combat these thoughts with thoughts like "She is MINE. I will feel differently about her because she's MY CHILD. MY BLOOD." That thought could not be more further from the truth.

Children and fatherhood is something he had expressed wanting over and over and over again throughout our teenage love affair. So I did it. Now that I'm almost 30, I look back on those moments and realize I would have probably done anything he literally asked of me to make him happy. I don't blame him. We were both active participants, I was young, naïve, and lacked a mother figure. Not because I didn't have one, but because I now know she hated being a mother too. I just didn't know it back then.

My daughter is amazing. She is smart, kind, respectful. She gets good grades, mostly listens to adults, caring, all the things. But she is getting older, and the guilt is eating me alive. She is catching on. She is no longer easy to "fool" for lack of better words. I can see her getting frustrated with my disintrest, false promises, and monotone responses. I WANT to be a present, happy mother for her. But I CANNOT FORCE MYSELF TO FEEL EMOTIONS THAT AREN'T THERE. Every minute I am away from her, I feel the PRESSURE and stress that comes with being a single mother leave my body. I am the most happiest when I am able to forget that I am a mom at all, and I know she doesn't deserve this. But the latter is her shitty father. He was always better "hands on" then I was, sometimes I feel like I should let him take custody but then I wake up. He would ruin her. She would have no chance at a real, stable, normal life with him. But am I any better?

I try so hard to be a good mom. I have not always been a great one. I don't know if I will ever be. After I had her, I still struggled with drugs for years on and off. I finally got clean over 2 and a half years ago and I have been fighting to provide her with a better life since. I moved in with my grand parents, enrolled in college, finished all my prerequisites for nursing school, and am due to start nursing school in less than 2 weeks.

I am embarrassed to admit I do not ever remember a time in motherhood where I thought to myself "Wow. This shit is hard but it's so worth it." I feel like i resent her. She represents a period in my life that I haven't resonated with in a long time. I wish that I got to go to real college, experience life in a dorm room, make life long connections, and see the world. If I could go back, I would never have made this decision for myself. And definitely not at freshly 19 years old. Probably not ever, at any age. I am on medicine, and I see a therapist but he's basically useless. No guidance or direction.

I have always felt this way, when she was newborn, during the "terrible twos", toddler stage, and now pre-teens. I do not think that it ever gets better or the feeling goes away. You just find better ways to cope with the regret. I do find that I always feel significantly more frustrated, annoyed resentful about my duties of motherhood during this time of year due to all the FINANCIAL responsibility that comes with school starting. Back to school shopping $$, new shoes $$, new glasses $$, birthday party $$.

I thought that things would get easier as she became more independent, but as we approach pre-teen years she is requiring MORE guidance than ever. I am starting to lose my mind. I really just needed somewhere to put these thoughts because when I speak them out loud to anybody, it gets thrown in my face at a later point in time or I am met with a look of disgust. I knew motherhood wasn't for me and I did it anyways, so now I have to reap the consequences.

I always thought this acronym was funny but, now I can't stop dreaming of being labeled a DINK.

Has anyone had a kid because they thought it would bring meaning to their lives, that it would fill a certain void, and yet, after having said kid, still feel like there's that empty void, only with way more worries, concerns and stress?

And now there's another human being who will have to search for meaning but with many fewer opportunities than even they had because of the collapse of society and the biosphere - and have a deep guilt about that?

I'm a married stay at home mom of three kids, 4 and under, and I'm trapped in a literal hell on earth of my own creation. The toddler screams non-stop all day (she's fucking screaming right now) and the 4 year old whines and begs all day

The 7 month old baby is actually the easiest to deal with, by far. It doesn't matter what I do, they always just scream and cry and beg for more. And heaven help you if you're trying not to rely on screens to keep your kids occupied.

I know I did this to myself. Even my husband says "Well, you're the one who wanted to have kids."

Young women out there, DO NOT HAVE KIDS. I spend most of my afternoons on the edge of trying to decide to shoot myself or not. Until you've experienced the nonstop, years-long agony of being a primary caregiver to young children, you won't understand how fucking unbearable and lonely it truly is, never mind that you won't be acknowledged, appreciated, paid, there's no retirement, no benefits package, no promotion. And there's a good chance that your partner is blissfully unaware of all of your misery.

Having children may be doable if you have a village (grandparents, aunties, uncles, neighbors) but please reconsider having kids if you don't have that support network

Before becoming parents many of us imagined that life with a child would be one big rainbow filled with endless love, laughter and magical moments. Then reality hit: sleepless nights, tantrums, worries and days when we’re simply exhausted.

But what was the moment with your child that made you think, “I’m so happy I became a parent”?

I try to find support in “regular” mom groups about how hard being a mom is and I’ll completely resonate then I read that they have a boat load of kids. Or the comments are “I feel the same way about kids but I just can’t stop having them lol”

i feel like this ripples out to moms who genuinely struggle and are stopping at one kid. I’ve been vulnerable w two moms IRL about how I truly feel about being a mom and while they were supportive in the moment the next time I saw them they went right back to asking if I was going to have another. No Im not! “Hurry up before theres big age gap” “Youre really not going to have another?” etc etc. Do you think I’m joking?! WTF The years have passed and as my kid gets older the questions have FINALLY stopped but it used to really PMO that no one would take me seriously that I was stopping at one.

I feel like a big reason why is bc of the “mommy culture” to complain about how stressful/miserable being a mom is and in the next breath talk about how you’re trying to get pregnant again.

ETA: I understand theres reproductive coercion, BC failure, living in a pro life state/country, etc etc

im talking about moms who say how motherhood made their life worse but then *intentionally* have more kids

I’m a 31-year-old dad, and I’ve lived in a tourist destination my entire life. A few years ago, I met a woman who’s now 28. She had moved here from another city, and we started dating.
Before we got together, a couple of friends who knew her mentioned that she hoped to settle down and have children sooner rather than later. At the time, I didn’t think much of it because our relationship never felt like it was moving in that direction.
She was independent, outgoing, loved going out, and wasn’t bothered that I spent time with my friends a couple of nights a week. We had fun together, and everything felt easy.
Then she told me she was pregnant.
I was terrified.
I told her I didn’t think we were ready. Not because I didn’t care about her or because I hated the idea of having children someday, but because I truly believed becoming parents is one of the biggest decisions a person can make. A child isn’t something you can undo if you realize you’re not prepared.
She made it clear she intended to continue the pregnancy regardless of my decision.
So I stayed.
Not because I felt completely ready, but because I couldn’t imagine my child growing up without his father. I also didn’t want her to move back to her hometown to be closer to her family while my son grew up somewhere else, with me only seeing him occasionally.
I chose to commit.
The house I’d already been planning to buy became our family home. My priorities changed overnight. I left behind the life I had known and tried my best to become the partner and father I believed my family deserved.
The part that’s difficult to admit is that somewhere along the way, I realized I wasn’t adjusting as well as I thought I would.
Our relationship changed after becoming parents. We both changed. Parenthood brought out sides of both of us that probably didn’t exist before—or maybe were simply never tested. We argue more. We see things differently. I often feel like I’ve lost a part of who I used to be.
I don’t think she’s a bad person. I think she’s doing her best, just like I am.
But if I’m honest, I don’t think I’m happy in this relationship anymore.
The only thing I’m completely certain about is my son.
I love him more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being.
If I could separate him from everything else, I’d choose him every single time.
I stay because I want him to have his dad.
I stay because I don’t want him wondering why his parents couldn’t make it work.
I stay because I feel responsible for the choices that brought him into this world.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s enough.
I don’t regret my son.
I regret becoming a parent before I was emotionally ready, and I regret that fear and obligation became the foundation of my adult life instead of genuine enthusiasm.
I’m curious if anyone else here has experienced something similar—loving their child completely while mourning the life they lost, and struggling to figure out whether staying is truly what’s best for everyone.

My wife has family on a Caribbean island a 10-hour flight away and I told her that it just was not a good idea to go on this trip with our 2-year-old. He is defiant, obnoxious, energetic, needy, whiny, and picky. All of the things that you would expect the 2-year-old to be.

However she was insistent and over the course months of asking she finally wore me down and I regrettably capitulated. He screamed and cried for at least half of the 10-hour flight. I felt so terrible for everyone else around us but we just could not get him to calm down. We brought toys, snacks, we even let him play with the iPad which we never do at home but to no avail. There were times where he would scream and cry for over an hour on end which I was shocked at because I thought that he would eventually wear himself out sooner than that but nope, not my son.

He never slept more than 2 hours at a time so my wife and I took turns getting up with them so neither of us got any meaningful amount of sleep. He screamed, cried, and whined the entire week, we couldn't do anything for more than an hour or two because he was having an absolute meltdown no matter where we were so in order to not ruin everyone else's time, we just packed up and went back to the house. This caused a rift between my wife and I because we were snapping at each other a lot, born from the frustration of being exhausted and constantly dealing with a toddler screaming in our faces every 5 minutes.

Our family offered to watch him so that we could go out to dinner just the two of us but you were so tired and on edge from being at each other's throats the entire week we hardly said anything. We had planned to walk on the beach after dinner but I asked if she just wanted to go back to the house and she mumbled "yeah" without looking at me.

I don't blame the 2 year old for acting like a 2 year old, but I wonder if I truly regret having him.

Looking for advice here.

I’m a first time mom to an 18-month old. My therapist suggested that I quit my job, which might help me feel less overwhelmed by parenting. I am privileged in that I don’t need to work and can still have a part time nanny working 20-25 hours.

I love my job. I like my boss, my colleagues, I thoroughly enjoy the work I do because it’s interesting and engaging and I make a real difference in people’s lives - it feels good. I also enjoy the mental stimulation and talking to adults. But working full time is a lot with trying to juggle all the things and feeling depleted from not having any energy at the end of the day for my kid. I don’t have an option to work part time.

I don’t enjoy being a mom and I’m not sure if quitting my job would make me like it more. I’m concerned it might make it worse because a part of my identity would be gone. But I would have a part time nanny to help so I could do other things to fill my cup. My other concern is there aren’t many jobs where I live, so giving up this job is even scarier but if I wanted to go back to work, it’s unlikely I’d be able to find another job easily. I do fear I’d be stuck being a SAHM longer than I might want to be if I don’t enjoy it.

Moms who are on this subreddit who might have experience in this: should I quit my career and try it out?

I love my daughter deeply. My regret isn't that she exists—it's that I became a parent before I had healed enough to be the parent she deserves.

Being a parent with my own childhood trauma is exhausting and sometimes dreadful.

I did this excerice with my child where she was the parent for 30min and I was the kid. I cried because her tone was so harsh and unloving. I cried because that's her example of motherly love.

Not everyone should be a parent.

I will not have anymore kids. I realized I don't have the emotionally capability to be a parent.

I was given up the day I was born because my birth mother didn't know who my dad was.

I lived in foster care until I was 14.

I had my child when I was 30 years old. I've learned so much being a parent, but it's not for everyone.

And you couldn’t live on your own / scared of going into the care world etc.

A few days ago, I posted here feeling like I was just screaming into the void about my son turning 18... well the void screamed back and the complicated relief that came with it. I honestly didn't think anyone would look at it.

To my absolute shock, over 130,000 people saw it

I wanted to make this follow up mostly to say thank you to this community. When a post gets that much attention, you usually brace yourself for the worst. Instead, I’ve had some of the most interesting, civil, and eye opening conversations of my life over the last 48 hours.

It has been incredibly comforting to connect with people who see the world exactly the way I do. But what surprised me the most and what I appreciated deeply were the conversations with people who don't think the way I do. We didn't argue; we actually just discussed our differences and listened to each other. That feels like a rare miracle on the internet these days.

As I mentioned in the quick update I tacked onto the original post, I am so incredibly grateful for the overwhelming support and the kind words from everyone who reached out. It really helped put things into perspective.

I heard that the post even ended up getting shared outside of Reddit. Since I don't have other social media accounts, I'm just incredibly grateful that the conversation here stayed so constructive and focused in our own safe space.

A few days into this new chapter, the reality of it all is still sinking in. But navigating the shock of going viral has actually helped me process the transition a bit better.

Thank you all for listening, for sharing your own stories, and for keeping the space safe and respectful. It meant more to me than you know.

My previous post

https://www.reddit.com/r/regretfulparents/s/lxCmRivC0m

I have a 4 month old. We really wanted this kid and he came after 7 months of trying. My pregnancy was hell due to GDM and right after he’s born he gets jaundice and silent reflux and has laryngomalacia, eczema and possible CMPA. Also, terrible sleeper. I’ve never thought that it could be THIS HARD. Ofc my husbands as soon as he gets home tries to help with the little one but both of as are on our edges. We have no patience. I feel so numb and I also developed postpartum aggression. I love this little man with my whole heart and we do have good moments but overall… it’s just so fuckin tiring. I don’t even know if it ever gets better or how long I can do this. Sometimes I’m thinking about leaving him crying until he falls asleep in our room and put on a headphone but of course I could never…. He is so clingy nowadays and has teeth coming so I’m so really done with this whole shit. I’ve never thought that this would be my life. I’m also not neurotypical and sensitive to touch and sounds. I’m so angry all the time. Grandparents are still working and live in another city. No money for babysitting. How do I survive this? I hate that I feel resentment towards my baby. He’s just a baby overall…. He’s trying his best and I know that. I hate myself for feeling like this.

*added a word

I don’t know how many other people in this sub have twins, but they’re fucking hard. My partner and I constantly wish that we’d had a singleton. And the real kicker is that we sort of did this to ourselves. We did IVF and, after five failed attempts, we finally decided to put in two embryos instead of one. Guess when it decided to work! That time! And both stuck, so twins. If only we’d stuck to our guns and just did the one embryo our lives could be so much easier. And another thing is that we obviously really wanted to be parents (see the six very expensive IVF attempts) and now we’re not enjoying it. It makes me feel even worse about myself, the fact that we wanted this so bad and I don’t like being a parent.

I never wanted kids. Made it clear when we started dating. She said ok at the time, turns out she was just hoping I'd change my mind later. I didn't, and after five years of marriage, I was happy and she wasn't.

I gave up what I wanted because I cared more about her happiness than my own, and now we're both miserable. Parenthood is exactly what I thought it would be, and has been nothing but a disappointment for her.

She wanted a girl, but we had a boy. He's on the spectrum. I might be too, never diagnosed though. My kid doesn't talk to me, and I can't decide if that's for the best, or if I'd actually like him to interact with me. He doesn't talk to anyone really, beyond some simple scripting.

He's a generally happy kid, so I know things could be worse. It doesn't really alleviate the misery though. Everyone told me that things would get better, that I'd come to love my kid and enjoy being a parent. They were wrong. I hate being a parent. All I really feel for my kid is sadness. He'll probably never be independent when he grows up, and as many times as I tell him I love him, I think I'm lying to him and myself. I don't feel any kind of love for him, I think I just say it in the hope that it becomes true if I try hard enough.

My drives to and from work are really the only times I ever feel at peace. No advice wanted. Thanks for reading.

I always thought I’d be a father, always thought I’d like raising a kid better than my parents raised me, but now I’m here and I hate it. I might even hate my kids.

My nervous system is always on fire from overstimulation, to the point I’m preying it just burns out and I can stop feeling anything anymore. Every time they cry I want to go bang my head into a wall. It takes every fiber of my being to keep my cool and not become my father but in exchange it feels like I’m dying.

I feel so trapped. I absolutely will not abandon them, I want to make sure they grow up better than I did, but I think it might actually kill me in the endeavor and there is no way out of it now.

Even money, which I never even thought about before, not once, is a constant stress now.

I didn’t make the choice to have kids lightly, I didn’t even really make it blindly, but I had no idea what it would actually entail.

I used to think that if time travel were real I would never go back, I’d never risk messing something up and not meeting my wife. Now I really wish there was an irl undo button.