So I got 2 DBQs back that are very in my favor as far as the ROMs go and all that, but the C&P examiner did not diagnose. The examiner told me that they could not diagnose and that I needed to get diagnosis from my PCP. The DBQs and Medical Opinions read this verbiage, “less likely than not connected to service due to no diagnosis in Veteran’s records. The two conditions are TMJ secondary to PTSD and IBS gulf war presumptive. I did what the examiner said and got diagnosed by my PCP, which I uploaded the official diagnosis for both conditions to my claim. I then had my PCP write me a nexus letter for TMJ to PTSD and give me a new DBQ for IBS (examiner didn’t really fill out the IBS DBQ, but did fill out the TMJ one in my favor). I uploaded those files to my claim.
Does anyone have any advice on how I can further strengthen this claim? Do you think I have helped myself by taking my examiners advice? Thank you. This is a new claim by the way. My VSO is who told me to go to the C&P exam without diagnosis because they thought that examiners diagnose on the spot.

Hi Courtney! I'm a huge fan of your channel and I've been watching you for a while now, and I would just die if you read my story! It's gonna be a little longer since I don't want to miss any important details. Also tag warning for some serious topics (drug use and pedophelia)
Okay so, let's start back in 2012. My mom worked in the NICU taking care of little premature babies. (I had been 6 weeks early, which inspired my mom) I was 11 at the time that she met her ex-husband, my ex-stepdad. We can just call him B (for bastard lol). They worked together, he was funny and stole her heart. Well at the time he was going through a divorce but lived in a house twenty minutes from where we were living at the time. B had told my mom that things were over with his ex for sure (he told his ex wife at that time that he wanted to work on things! She was so blindsided by the divorce papers!) <--- of course we didn't know about any of that until recently End of 2012 comes, he marries my mom and my older sister move in with him and his 7 year old son in this three bedroom house. Two rooms upstairs and a master bedroom downstairs. Now of the top two rooms, my ex stepbrother (lets call him C) had the larger room, while my older sister (who was high school age, I think she was a senior) and I shared the other room and slept in bunk beds.
Now C had a problem with sleeping in his room at night. He would tell us about how he was afraid of the closet (the closet also had a tiny door that led up to the attic). Ever since he was little it was always the same problem. C was simply terrified of something in the house. He had an experience where someone woke him up and warned him that there was a spider, he started screaming and sure enough they found a brown recluse spider under his bed.
Then my mom gets pregnant and gives birth to my little brother, H. My sister had moved out pretty much as soon as possible. B was awful. He would belittle us and talk down to us, constantly try to make everyone feel stupid around him- he had to be the smartest one around at all times. He was an asshole, and he would say rude stuff and then complain that we were taking him too serious and he was just being sarcastic. That we 'didn't get his sense of humor'. And for a while, he had my mom wrapped right around his finger. He was manipulating her from the very beginning. He even treated her like shit most of the time. 8th grade all the way through the end of my senior year I endured his treatment every day. I had to be careful about what I said at all times, about who came over, about being too loud at night. If my room was messy, he would take a garbage bag and take all of my stuff- I had to 'earn' back my stuff.
When the baby was born they had to do renovations on the house. There was a ton of attic space, so they ended up breaking into it- a game room leading to two bedrooms and a bathroom. This was when things went from humanly hellish to supernaturally chaotic. During the renovations before any walls went up and it was mostly just wood and plastic, C and I had seen a dark shadow of a man pass behind a plastic tarp- and it was so clear because the sunlight was coming from the other side. When I checked there was no body there. Once everything was completed the feeling changed.
My room ended up being on the other end of the opened up attic.
At the time I was watching a lot of Supernatural- so my spooked ass started putting salt barriers on my bedroom door (which guess what! Yeah! It was one of those attic bedrooms!) and also on my window too. My mom and B would ridicule me for this but I stand by my decisions to this day!
This was mostly because of the feelings you would get in the game room. Even if you were just passing through. There were always eyes on you- especially when your back was turned. I never ever walked through that room without the light on. I didn't even sleep with the light off in my room. When I would I would get really bad sleep paralysis,
One of the worst ones I was laying on my stomach with my head turned to the side. I opened my eyes and I was utterly frozen. At first I know it's just sp, so I try to stay calm and take deep breaths but then I start to feel this pressure starting down on my feet. It feels like two hands grabbing my ankles and pressing down. Then the hands move up my body and then there's more pressure- like someone's whole body is crawled over top of me. It gets closer and closer to my head. All the while I'm trying to scream but I can't open my mouth so it's just coming out as quiet whimpers. I can feel it breathing on my neck and then in my ear. That's when it finally stopped and I jerked up and immediately turned on the light. I remember just crying for a while. At the time B had made it impossible to trust my mom- and they would've just gotten mad at me for waking them up.
There was another night where I had been up late, probably 3 or 4 in the morning and I was drawing or something just sitting on my bed. All of the sudden I hear 4 distinct knocks from INSIDE my closet! No joke I shit bricks. There was no rational explanation. Because there was siding on our house that was damaged and it would make noise but it was always specific like a scraping/tapping. But this was a knock, like someone is at your door with your DoorDash meal type knock. I always tried to rationalize what was happening. Make excuses for the weird stuff.
Then one summer, my cousin had come up from another state to stay with us. We spent a lot of time in my room, just hanging out. One day, we're both up there just chilling when all of the sudden I notice something under my door.
Someone was walking back and forth in front of the bedroom door. You could even hear the floor creaking on the other side. You could see the shadow pass to the right and then to the left. I remember locking my door and calling my mom to see if it was an actual human, nope. She ended up sending B up there (of course this made him mad for some reason) to verify that there was no person up there. Basically they just said we were being kids with overactive imaginations but I can tell you right now there was no rational explanation for that experience.
A lot of the time at that house you could feel constant eyes on you, mostly in the attic. Like always- at all times, someone or something was watching.
There were also times when there was a sort of 'mimic' situation where you could think you heard something upstairs but you really didn't; one time my sister went to pick up our dog- and she thought she heard the dog crying upstairs, she started to go up and get her when her boyfriend who was there at the time stopped her because the dog crate was downstairs in my moms room AND GUESS WHO WAS IN THE CRATE and NOT upstairs.
There was also one time I was babysitting my younger siblings and it was pretty late when I heard giggling upstairs. Thinking it was my brother, I went up to reprimand him and basically tell him to go to sleep but when I entered his room- he was dead asleep. Like fully passed out. I just shut the door and quietly went back downstairs. Nope nope nope.
B ended up doing work out of state- I was like 20 ish and moved back in with my mom and the kids. What was weird that during this time I didn't really have a lot of paranormal experiences. Once or twice you would hear weird things or my cat would get tiffed up staring at blank corners of the room. It was mostly really nice when he wasn't there.
A few years ago we ended up having to leave that house. B as it turns out had gotten himself addicted to meth and also started downloading explicit photos of underage girls (11-13 approx.) I was at the house when the police came and everything. He's still not in jail btw which is such bull. When it first happened, my mom reached out to B's ex wife to talk to her.
Turns out from the moment B and his ex bought this house, she immediately noticed negativity. Weird things and scary things that would happen. We sort of deduced that HE was the one bringing that negative energy into the house, which totally made sense because most of the extreme haunting stuff was happening WHILE HE WAS THERE. So yeah I blame him because he is a disgusting demon himself.
Anyway that's all I've got for now- thank you so much for reading! Love you girl!

Is this unmasking or unconsciously faking?
The isn’t the first time this post has been made and I doubt it’ll be the last, I’ve read through several posts of this kind and it’s helped but I also feel the need to hear it directly aimed at me because just because someone else is being validated that doesn’t mean I am.
So for background, I am undiagnosed and yet to commit to saying that I’m self diagnosed because I don’t know whether I’m making it all up or not. I’ve been going back and forth on Autism or ADHD or both being the reason for my thunderstorm brain and general feelings of other-ness for over a year but only fully delved into research over the past 3-4 months. By delved, I mean that I am reading, listening, watching, making notes on and/or thinking about this every single day. My boyfriend said to me that he’s never heard the word Autism referenced so much until recently and he has an Autistic nephew lol. He doesn’t mean this badly he’s just pointing out the fact that I go on about it all the time.
So since I’ve proper dived into this, I’ve noticed more and behaviours popping up that I can’t remember if I did before. My boyfriend says that he’s noticed that too. He keeps reassuring me that he believes me but I have no idea if I believe me. I’ve noticed more sensitivities, like when we went to support our friend doing the London Half Marathon I hated it. Here and there on the route, there were drums and trumpets and do sets and oh my god the crowds and all the walking and I enjoyed supporting my friend and would most likely put myself through it again to support someone I care about but i had to fully cover my ears and stare at ground every time we went past the noise.
Then there’s the stimming, I think I’ve always done some stimming my but not like obvious ones like clicking my fingers, pulling hair, tapping my fingers or pen or whatever is in my hands, I’ve always had restless legs. But now I’ve fully invested in toys because my hair pulling has ruined my hair and I used to have nice hair but it’s not nice anymore lol. And I’ve noticed swaying now which I don’t remember before.
I’ve been more emotional recently and can barely stand the days I have to be in the office (3 days office, two days wfh). I’ve only had this job since like February and it’s part of the reason I properly started researching because I feel like such an alien everytime I step foot in the place and it’s not even like anyone’s horrible they’re actually all quite supportive, the people who have to interact with me do anyway but it’s open plan and luminescent and everyone is so extroverted and I have so many responsibilities it feels like so much.
I feel like even writing this post I’m trying to convince everyone who might read it and trying to convince myself too. But I don’t know it feels like I am analysing every step I take while also piecing through every memory I have to see if everything matches up. But I can’t remember how I behaved when I was growing up. I’m looking into an assessment because I think it’s only real way I’ll ever find out because I really can’t decide for myself, I don’t trust myself to know who I am. I need to be told who I am.

The isn’t the first time this post has been made and I doubt it’ll be the last, I’ve read through several posts of this kind and it’s helped but I also feel the need to hear it directly aimed at me because just because someone else is being validated that doesn’t mean I am.
So for background, I am undiagnosed and yet to commit to saying that I’m self diagnosed because I don’t know whether I’m making it all up or not. I’ve been going back and forth on Autism or ADHD or both being the reason for my thunderstorm brain and general feelings of other-ness for over a year but only fully delved into research over the past 3-4 months. By delved, I mean that I am reading, listening, watching, making notes on and/or thinking about this every single day. My boyfriend said to me that he’s never heard the word Autism referenced so much until recently and he has an Autistic nephew lol. He doesn’t mean this badly he’s just pointing out the fact that I go on about it all the time.
So since I’ve proper dived into this, I’ve noticed more and behaviours popping up that I can’t remember if I did before. My boyfriend says that he’s noticed that too. He keeps reassuring me that he believes me but I have no idea if I believe me. I’ve noticed more sensitivities, like when we went to support our friend doing the London Half Marathon I hated it. Here and there on the route, there were drums and trumpets and do sets and oh my god the crowds and all the walking and I enjoyed supporting my friend and would most likely put myself through it again to support someone I care about but i had to fully cover my ears and stare at ground every time we went past the noise.
Then there’s the stimming, I think I’ve always done some stimming my but not like obvious ones like clicking my fingers, pulling hair, tapping my fingers or pen or whatever is in my hands, I’ve always had restless legs. But now I’ve fully invested in toys because my hair pulling has ruined my hair and I used to have nice hair but it’s not nice anymore lol. And I’ve noticed swaying now which I don’t remember before.
I’ve been more emotional recently and can barely stand the days I have to be in the office (3 days office, two days wfh). I’ve only had this job since like February and it’s part of the reason I properly started researching because I feel like such an alien everytime I step foot in the place and it’s not even like anyone’s horrible they’re actually all quite supportive, the people who have to interact with me do anyway but it’s open plan and luminescent and everyone is so extroverted and I have so many responsibilities it feels like so much.
I feel like even writing this post I’m trying to convince everyone who might read it and trying to convince myself too. But I don’t know it feels like I am analysing every step I take while also piecing through every memory I have to see if everything matches up. But I can’t remember how I behaved when I was growing up. I’m looking into an assessment because I think it’s only real way I’ll ever find out because I really can’t decide for myself, I don’t trust myself to know who I am. I need to be told who I am.

I don't really know why I'm writing this but I want to write down how much my life has changed in a year, since I visited The Round Sheep tour and I guess how long a year is. I also want to give hope to people, who might be struggling this year and looking for hope.
When I visited the round sheep tour last year, I had just survived a severe mental breakdown and gotten out a second shitty relationship after another shitty relationship. I was still struggling and had rarely left the house prior to going to the tour. I was unemployed and was unable to look for work, due to my mental health. The night itself was wonderful, I was part of the show, due to jack's inability to articulate properly. I loved meeting the boys and it gave me so much confidence in myself.
I have found work in an Autistic charity, supporting fellow autistic adults, as well as running events for these charities. I love my job and have found a job that I love for the first time in my life.
I am just about to celebrate a year with my boyfriend! I've been understood and cherished for the first time in my entire life by someone else.
I'm starting University in October and I feel so much more settled and confident and in love with life than I have ever been before.
Sunday, I'm going back to the tour (in notts) and I'm so excited to go back and watch it, a year later and a lot better.
Life will always work itself out. And thank you to the boys for always providing a smile and laugh when it's needed.
I really hope we get a tour every year or even every couple of years, because it's such fun and it's also lovely to look back at your previous self to see the growth (even if it's minimal)
Viva La Happy Hour 🇳🇺🇳🇺🇳🇺

I'm lonely. And I made myself this way. I never kept friends always let them go before they hurt me. Now I have a boyfriend who just idk, maybe I expect too much of him but at one time he was all that I was expecting of him and more. And now it's just, I feel like my tears have no value to anyone in this world. When my heart aches I don't feel there's someone else's heart too in disdain. There was a time when he felt every time my heart ached but now it's just left there without any care or even if there is, even if he says something, nothing mends it. He doesn't utter even a single thing which could make it right, out of all this blabbering. And I feel so disconnected. To him. To everyone I was already disconnected long back. But to him. It is crushing me. I finally felt understood for once in my life but now, not anymore.
Just yesterday we had a fight, I cried myself to sleep last night. I felt so lonely I can't emphasize enough how painful it was for me. And tonight he's gone. To watch a fucking match? I feel like going away. I want to build myself somewhere nobody knows me and I talk to nobody. I want to have interests and I want to put my interests first too. I want to be so involved in myself and doing me that I don't ever have to feel what I'm feeling now after trying out a human relationship with someone who's just. Idk. Tears streaming down my face as I write this, someday, I want to be happy. And even if I have someone which I don't want to, if I have someone, I want them to feel when my heart shatters, feel when alone and in a dark place. If such a man even exists.
It's so useless. Dating and everything. I find no purpose in breaking myself up into pieces for that one person to stick their feet onto me. I hate people. I want to die soon.

Hi Morgan, Longtime listener, first time writing in. My best friend and I are having trouble figuring out the right thing to do in this situation and wanted to get an outside perspective. Buckle up because this is a LONG one because theres a lot of backstory that’s necessary.
Would we be the assholes if we didn’t attend our childhood best friends wedding?
There is a lot of context in this storyline so I’ll try to give a lot of detail. We start in January of 2023, my best friend, Greta(26F) and I(26F) get in contact with one of our childhood best friends, Laura (26F), and plan a visit to catch up on the past 10ish years that we’ve been apart. Laura moved away from our hometown when we were 15. Now Greta and I live about 2 hours from where Laura moved to when we were young, so we reached out and invited her and her fiancé Logan(26M) up to stay with us and hang out.
They come visit, we have such a great time, her fiancé was pretty quiet and distant the whole time, but the 3 of us together were big talkers so I just chalked it up to him not being able to get a word in and they left. In March they came back to visit again and announced to us that they were moving a few states away. We were really sad, but happy for them since they were getting to move somewhere that they’d wanted to be for a while. They were going to elope together after a few months but Logan had a university study abroad for a month in Japan so they were going to wait until after.
So, he leaves for Japan in May, and while he is away a girl reaches out to Laura from the college that Logan attends. This girl tells Laura that her friend had been getting really close with Logan, uncomfortably so and she wanted to give Laura a heads up that she thought they were romantically involved. Greta and I were worried but Laura brushed it off and said it was probably nothing, so Greta and I dropped it because we didn’t feel close enough to Laura to tell her we felt like she should look into it more.
Flash forward 2 weeks into Logan’s study abroad, he calls Laura at 5AM to let her know that he doesn’t think he wants to get married anymore. She’s distraught but has to go into work that morning and calls us after to let us know. We support her, you know he fucking sucks for doing that not only over the phone but right before she went into work, real shady. Greta and I are very worried about Laura because Laura really wants to make it work, but we still don’t say anything because we just want to be there for her.
He gets back and agrees to go to couples counseling, they do couples counseling for 2 weeks, during this time he repairs her car. Replaces a tire, breaks, oil change, the works, he’s been working with cars for a long time, so this was no biggie. Well after that two weeks, Laura comes home to all of Logan’s stuff packed and he tells her it’s over and he’s moving back home. He leaves. She’s devastated. We comfort her, come up and visit her, and tell her that she doesn’t need him and she slowly starts getting over him. Meanwhile she gives us A TON of context about her relationship with Logan. She paid for his college, he has had no job for the past 2 years while getting his degree, so she had been financially supporting them both. She paid for his trip to Japan, he put her in 20K of credit card debt, and more in personal loans, etc. Then in couples therapy told her he wasn’t attracted to her because she made money and he didn’t (so weird).
So immediately Greta and I are like, “Girl, we had a bad feeling, we wanted to tell you but didn’t want to upset you, we’re just glad you’re finally out of that mess”. She tells us that next time we should come to her and be honest with her, we apologize and agree. Then one day Laura calls us to tell us that she almost got into a really bad car accident. She lives in a mountainous area and her breaks went out on her when she was driving on the interstate on a hill, she managed to pull of into a grass median and slow the car down.
She gets the car towed to a mechanic that night and heads to work the next morning. Mechanic calls her midday. He asks he who worked on her car last, she said “My ex” and he said “Is he still in your life?” she said no. And he said “Good, Because I’ve never seen anything like this in my 20 years as a mechanic.” Her brake fluid hadn’t been connected so all the break fluid drained out. Her brake pads weren’t fastened/screwed in to the wheels, the were just placed in there. And he back tire bolts were stripped so hard that he said he tire probably would’ve come off had she kept driving.
Later that week, Logan asks to talk to her, she agrees only to get closure on the situation. Well he calls and begs her to get back together, she says no absolutely not. Then he asks” How’s the car?” She said, “Well I almost died last week”, he immediately jumped to the defensive “Well, that had nothing to do with me, I didn’t do anything” a very guilty response, so we were all convinced he tried to kill her. She filed a police report on him and started moving on. This is in July.
Now we move into part two of this debacle. My partner and I go up to visit her in September and she’s doing well on her own, she’s having fun, dating around, putting herself first, in therapy, just doing really well, were happy for her. She hasn’t really made any friends which is making her lonely but we were telling her to get involved in clubs and meet people, etc.
We leave our trip which was really fun and head back home. 2 weeks later, Laura says she’s met this really great guy, its almost October at this point, she’s gone on multiple dates with him and really likes him, were happy for her, still a bit concerned, but if she’s happy we’re happy. So Laura, Greta, and I plan a girls trip to come up and visit Laura for a long weekend. Laura wants us to vet this new guy, make sure he’s a good dude. She tells us she really values our input and so Greta and I are so excited to go on this trip with an open mind. November rolls around, one month before our trip and Laura announces that the new guy, we’ll call him Will (29M) has moved in with her, bringing his dog with him. Greta and I are a bit shocked but we didn’t say anything bc we’ve both done stuff like that before and Laura was struggling to keep up with rent on her own (she was still in the house that her ex fiancé left her in) so we knew she could use a roommate.
December is finally here and Greta and I hop on a plane and Will and Laura pick us up from the airport, first impression in the car was fine, he seemed nice, he drove us back to their place and we walk into the house. I come face to face with a completely different living room than I saw in September, all of Laura’s art and stuff are moved out of the living room replaced with the following: a giant poster of Elon Musk smoking a joint, a poster model of a rocket, a poster of Jesus riding a dinosaur with a machine gun. And a bookshelf full of Will’s books and Lego sets on display. Alarm bells are going off in my head and Greta’s at this point. We have a little conversation and because it’s late, we go to bed. We sleep in a room that outside of the house in the backyard, it has full heating so its basically just like a bedroom with a deadbolt. I double lock the dead bolts and we go to bed.
At 3am I’m woken up by Greta shaking me in a panic, asking me if I remembered to double deadbolt the door, I told her I did and that were okay and we both went back to sleep. When we woke up the next day, and she told me she had a weird feeling that he was gonna come in our room in the night. I agreed, and told her that was why I double dead bolted the door.
We go through our girls trip which ended up not being a girls trip at all, Will was by our side the entire time. Laura and he talked about looking at ENGAGEMENT RINGS, they bought a ring sizer, she was picking out her faves. He never let us have girl time except for one hour trip we took downtown to window shop. He would come sit in Greta and my room when we were talking with Laura, he would watch movies with us, he went everywhere with us. Not only that but in the middle of conversations, he would pull out his guitar and just start playing in the middle of us talking, or when we sat down to watch a movie. There is one bathroom in the house, and the main house part is very small about 650 square feet, my friend Greta has bathroom anxiety, she doesn’t like to poop in public places so she asked Laura and I if we would grab Will and the dog, and just go for a quick walk around the block while she used the bathroom. It was no biggie, so we got ready and went on a walk, we got 20 feet out the door and Will starts griping about how he doesn’t want to be outside and that Greta is a selfish pooper, and continues to complain the entire time were outside. We don’t even go for a walk, we stop at the corner of the street and just stand there because he doesn’t want to go any further.
At this point I’m annoyed with this guy, he just seems really controlling. To add to it, he didn’t want to go for a hike in the mountains, so Laura didn’t want to go so we ended up spending the entire weekend inside their house basically, even though we were in a beautiful area, and hiking is a group favorite, because he didn’t want to go. We didn’t. Also this is a personal anger of mine but I bought a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts (they were $18, which is crazy) and he ate EIGHT OF THEM. it pissed me off so bad, I had to hide the box that night just so I had 1 donut left over in the morning. Anyway onto the big finale.
Our last night there we finished up watching a movie and the events that unfold all happen within 3 minutes, keep that in mind. Laura had taken an edible so she was pretty out of it, like laying on top of the dog, whispering, just all around sounding really tired. Will says hes gonna take her to bed and Greta and I say were gonna get ready for bed in the bathroom. Bedroom and bathroom are five steps fro each other. I brush my teeth and use the bathroom while Greta is brushing hers and then I walk out of the bathroom and tell Greta that I’m grabbing my stuff to head over to our outside bedroom. I grab my bag from the kitchen counter, which is right next to their bedroom door. The bedroom door is open so I say goodnight to both of them and tell Greta I’ll see her in a sec, she’s just finishing up. Maybe 45 seconds pass and I’m waiting in our bedroom when I get 3 texts from Greta “OH MY GOD” “HELP” “HOLY SHIT”, Greta comes running out of the house, slamming the back door, and I run up to her.
She tells me that they were loudly having sex in their bedroom with the door open, mind you the bathroom is 5 steps from the bedroom. the kitchen counter is right next to the bedroom and Greta had to walk over to it to grab her stuff.
We are freaked the fuck out at this point not only was it super disrespectful but Greta was super affected by it, which who wouldn’t be it was disturbing. Because mere moments before Laura went to bed she was so high. And I smoke regularly so I know what it looks like when someone is super high and I hadn’t gotten that high in a long time. She was very out of it. So this really bothered us both.
The next day, were ready to go home, we get to the airport where they drop us off and once the two of us are in the airport we both look at each other and both just say “that was horrible”, we both felt like the entire trip we had a bad feeling about him and didn’t want to ruin the vibes of the trip so we just didn’t say anything about it. So were sitting in the terminal writing down a list of all the red flags, all the instances where he gave us a bad feeling. And overall just as a person he gave us a really bad feeling. Just gross, nasty, icky feeling. Not sure how to describe it well but I just knew something was off and Greta said she felt the same.
Laura had asked us to give our opinion on what we thought of him so we drafted up a letter to her, with key moments and points that we felt were big signs that he may not be a good guy. It includes everything we went over in this story, I didn’t want to supply to much of our opinion on the situation but I know that my bias comes out in this story a bit.
We wrote to her, and she responded to us with basically “I appreciate your concern, I will take your opinions into consideration” Its worth it to note that they were talking about getting engaged in March of 2024 (It is Early December 2023 at this point) and in our letter we told her that she should give their relationship more time, and get to know him better before they get engaged.
Our relationship with her after that became very one sided, Greta and I tried our best to keep messaging her but she really never responded so we kind of gave up. End of January we get a text from her, a picture of her and him she has an engagement ring on, “We’re engaged!” Greta and I respond with a Congrats! and a heart emoji, we’re super concerned but we have genuinely said all we can in that letter a little over a month before, so It didn’t feel right to say it again.
March she posts her “I said yes to the dress post” with Wills mom and his two sisters. She still doesn’t have any friends up where she lives so it makes sense for her to bring his family along. She didn’t message us about it, which is fair because we hadn’t been talking. We just thought they were getting eloped, because Greta has always said she wanted something small since she isn’t super close with her family (they’re not great).
So we left it there until last week I received an invitation in the mail to their wedding. Its this September on a Monday night.
Greta and I would have to pay around $500 each in order to even go to the wedding, calculating in airfare, shared rental car, shared hotel room, and that doesn’t even include, food, gas, wedding gift, etc. The two of us are not well of financially, we both live paycheck to paycheck so it would be really hard for us to go in general not to mention that the wedding is on a Monday night, so I have to take off extra days of work that I really don’t have. Same with my best friend, were in the same industry so wen have the same days off and all of that.
And I know it took us a while to get here but would we be the assholes if we decided not to attend her wedding?
TLDR: Best friend’s ex fiance tries to kill her in past relationship, she moves on two months later, her new partner moves in with her 3 weeks after dating. We go visit her and meet him, he’s go a lot of red flags, we tell our best friend, she distances herself and gets engaged weeks later. Invites us to her wedding in September that is also on a Monday. AWTA?

Edit: If you are going to comment on the length of this post, please don't. This is not a simple snark but rather an actual critical think piece about feminism and Taylor Swift.

Introduction

Pertaining to Taylor Swift, "Female Rage" has deviated from its intended meaning after Swift debuted a new performance of The Tortured Poets Department during the Eras Tour. Now, according to Swift's use of the phrase, female rage is interpreted as public backlash against Swift's dating choices rather than as a response to the broader injustices against women and women's rights. This post examines Taylor Swift's flawed feminism, philanthropy, branding, and the controversial trademark petition for the phrase "Female Rage: The Musical". Swift's background as an entertainer, indeterminate politics, and alignment with capitalism over feminism pervades her legacy, again threatening her public tolerance as not just an individual but as a brand.

Once Upon a Female Rage...

If you were cognizant in the early 2010's, you've heard countless jabs at Taylor Swift in the media. Magazines, radio, or online. Music critics did not take her seriously as a songwriter; parents put a woman on an unrealistic pedestal as the ideal role model for their children; she dated too much and used men as lyrical fodder. No matter the story, it inevitably spread, conjoined with everyone's respective opinions, and you'd be left to wonder, "Why does everyone hate this girl so much?"
Taylor's target demographic has always been young or adolescent girls, more so when Swift herself was one. She made music that spoke to the awkward misfit, cultivating a para-social relationship with fans on MySpace, then later twitter, Instagram, and YouTube, where Taylor posted relatable vlogs showcasing the life of a homegrown American girl. Taylor had a delayed public "growing up" and, compared to her female pop contemporaries, Swift never "gratuitously sexualized her image and seems pathologically averse to controversy" (and, apparently, never even had a sip of alcohol until she turned 21). She was more than happy to spin this narrative to allude to an inherent moral superiority above other women in the industry (Better Than Revenge, heard of it?), engaging in the very slut-shaming that she herself endured (the Madonna and Whore archetypes). The victim complex arose with the need to prove Taylor as a different type of pop girl. Based upon her holy and clean image, Swift had been dubbed "a feminist's nightmare", and that "[To Swift] other girls are obstacles; undeserving enemies who steal Taylor’s soulmates with their bewitching good looks and sexual availability." Feminism and Tennessee-Christian country values don't exactly mix, it seems.
Years later, Swift befriended Lena Dunham and thus experienced white feminism osmosis, where Dunham taught Swift that real feminists defend rapists, makes insensitive jokes about rape and abortion, and prioritize all-white casts. Swift then declared herself a feminist in 2014, saying,

"Becoming friends with Lena – without her preaching to me, but just seeing why she believes what she believes, why she says what she says, why she stands for what she stands for – has made me realize that I’ve been taking a feminist stance without actually saying so."

I suppose the male-centric songwriting subject that permeates Swift's discography contained covert feminism and that we just didn't see that. Perhaps, the "Bad Blood" song and music video were written only in jest and not about poor Katy Perry, for Swift, as a feminist, would "never make it a girl fight" or tear other women down (though all Katy did was date your terrible ex-boyfriend and allegedly steal three backup dancers from your tour). In 2013, Swift said, in response to Tina Fey and Amy Poehler's joke towards her serial dating, "There is a special place in hell for women who don't help other women."
There was that time in 2015 Taylor said that Nicki Minaj was "invited to any stage [she is] on" (as if Taylor expects to have access to every stage, award, and platform that Nicki might not otherwise have as a black female artist...yikes!) in response to Nicki's criticism of the white + thin VMA nominations. Later, Nicki responded with confusion, as Swift continued, "It’s unlike you to pit women against each other. Maybe one of the men took your slot..". Of course, this 'beef' was 'squashed' when Nicki performed with Taylor at the VMAs, with Nicki quite literally only having 38 seconds of stage time without Taylor. Maybe all that parading around with a legion of famous white women - similar to the way Taylor might've done with her numerous 1989-era handbags - was in fact a stance against gender inequality, and that this display of "girl power" should be enough to constitute Swift as a feminist icon.
Even while Swift says that Dunham informed her feminist outlook, she dances around the exact contents of those beliefs: "what she believes, what she says, what she stands for" is not exactly insightful towards what beliefs Swift might have inherited. Taylor never broaches women's rights topics such femicide, FGM, forced pregnancy & marriage, sex trafficking, women in slavery, women's financial and political oppression, women's educational rights, women's health, or women's autonomy, so we can assume she only gives a fuck about "girls supporting girls" (whatever that fucking means).
Despite some questionable (and sometimes vindictive) behavior, Taylor as a young woman did not deserve every media lashing that she received. We cannot deny that most headlines and criticisms perpetuated a misogynistic rhetoric which has plagued Swift for a majority of her career. Acknowledging events such as the development of her ED, her sexual assault trial, "Famous" lyric and MV depiction of Taylor, and the explicit Twitter deepfakes, for example, as both disgusting and unfortunate things that happened to a young woman in Hollywood does not negate the fact that Taylor is mostly a performative feminist.

Get Your Fucking Ass Up and Be a Philanthropist, It Seems Like Nobody Wants to Be a Philanthropist These Days

In 2013, Taylor Swift cut the ribbon at the grand opening of the Taylor Swift Education Center at the Country Music Hall of Fame in Nashville, Tennessee. The donation amount - $4 million - was the largest individual artist gift ever donated to the Country Music Hall of Fame, which is, of course, mentioned on Swift's website. The two-story facility features three classrooms, an instrument room, and an interactive children's exhibit gallery. Swift also performed at "All for the Hall" charity shows and has donated numerous artifacts from her career (such as notable guitars, tour costumes, etc) to the museum.
This was over 11 years ago, and it is still the only notable philanthropic contribution Taylor Swift has made.
For a woman of her net worth and stature, and a woman who recognizes the difficulties for women in film and music, you would think that Taylor Swift might establish a scholarship program for women to study the arts or something. Perhaps Swift might even consider becoming a member of organizations that support female artists, or one that supports LGBTQ+ causes (since she is now proudly an ally), yet she remains superficial with her graces. Broader philanthropy, such as donating relief aid to Palestinian women or women impacted by violence and discrimination will probably never receive any financial support from Miss Swift because then she'd be using her money towards philanthropies involving anyone but white entertainers.
She even says herself in Miss Americana, "My entire moral code as a kid and now is a need to be thought of as 'good'." Well, she's certainly thought of as good, though her actions say otherwise. She's more than happy to do a vaguely altruistic song and dance for a clip-worthy interview quote and mass appeasement, then fuck off to one of her mansions on a 20 minute private jet flight, rather than actually contribute to anything pertaining to the causes she has endorsed. Yet, far too many people continue to give a woman such as her their money, time, and energy, and she hoards these resources to herself.

I Like Some of the Taylor's Songs, But What the Fuck Does She Know About Feminism?

Swift continued with her self-proclaimed feminist campaign, positioning herself as a political activist and LGBTQ+ ally in the Miss Americana documentary. The primary focus of the documentary consists of the sexual assault trial, Andrea Swift's cancer diagnosis, Taylor's ED and body dysmorphia, media scrutiny, and, largely, finally speaking up about her politics publicly, mostly her opposition to the 2018 Tennessee Republican senate candidate, Marsha Blackburn, and Blackburn's beliefs. Swift says, following a scene discussing her experience during the trial,

"I just couldn't really stop thinking about it. And I just thought to myself, next time there is any opportunity to change anything, you had better know what you stand for and what you want to say."

We must ask ourselves, though: when has Swift ever spoken up to change anything? Okay, pulling her entire catalogue from Spotify because they didn't pay their artists enough and similarly pulling her catalogue from Apple Music are changes that she leveraged due to her revenue potential and power, but they are not pertinent to the average woman's rights. Moreover, these are issues that directly impacted Taylor's income, which was enough reason for her to protest in the first place. Swift has sold the most units for a female artist in first week sales, is the first female artist with 100k monthly Spotify listeners, is the first female artist to win the Album of the Year Grammy 4 times, and is the first female artist to do X, Y, and Z, all while being inoffensive and family-friendly to boot. The actual Taylor Swift seems unwilling to compromise the brand of Taylor Swift by contributing in meaningful ways to feminist causes, especially if it is for women outside of America and Hollywood.
The reason political anthems such as "The Man" and "Only the Young" of the Lover era feel disingenuous and corporate is because, well, it is. Taylor has taken every opportunity to advance her career or public image at the expense of other women. What is truly genuine to Taylor's outlook on other women is vying for male attention, taking down female competition, and vocalizing feminist injustices only if they directly impact her and her money. Some will argue that it's satisfactory for a woman with such a huge platform to even TALK about feminism, but that just isn't enough. It's even less impressive when you candidly look at the scope of her feminist lens: "If I was the man, then I'd be THE MAN", or "I really resent the ‘Be careful, buddy, she’s going to write a song about you’ angle, because it trivialises what I do", and, of course, "We all got crowns". Feminism, but only when it happens to me. It gets worse when you look at Taylor's track record of copying other famous women and removing other female artists as potential threats to her pop prowess.
It's good for PR to align yourself with certain blanket feminist and political beliefs, therefore good for branding, therefore good for ticketing and merchandise sales, therefore good for business. And Taylor Swift is a business.
She's not a feminist. Taylor Swift is a capitalist.

I Can't Pay Those Sweatshop Workers a Livable Wage or Benefits! How Else Would I Make My Billions?

Recently, Taylor's team filed to trademark the phrase "Female Rage: The Musical" after Taylor said during Paris N1 of the Eras Tour,

"So you were the first ones to see The Tortured Poets at the Eras Tour...or as I like to call it, 'Female Rage: The Musical'."

This trademark petition was filed last week on Saturday, and news comes about just as numerous unofficial fan-made merch designs have cropped up with this phrase plastered on Fruit of the Loom basics. I'm of the opinion Swift's team motioned for a trademark so that they can send out cease & desists to all those that make knockoff merch, which disrupts potential sales for Bravado, UMG's choice merchandising company; however, since it was filed earlier, perhaps Swift has bigger plans with the bizarre use of the gendered phrase. One Swiftie referred to the phrase "female rage" as "a funny Eras Tour joke". Could it be a possible fourth version of the Eras Tour Movie? Whatever the reason, the motion to capitalize off of such a concept is disgusting, but not unsurprising, for a woman that profits on her vain feminism.
Swift, through her company, TAS Rights Managements, has also trademarked over 200 phrases, including "1989", where she owns the property rights to this calendar year on keychains, phone cases, sunglasses, stationary, bags, beverage ware, clothing, entertainment services, your subconscious, and, of course, Christmas ornaments.
The vapid consumerism in Swiftie culture is, frankly, disgusting. Bravado's sustainability statement is non-existent, the quality control is abysmal, and the materials they use are horrible. The materials, such as acrylic and polyester, are made from petrochemicals. This means they are non-renewable, shed microplastics, and are quite toxic in production. The manufacturing process to make all of those lazy-rushed Eras Tour logo graphic tees is a huge blow to environmental well-being. Apparently, though, Swifties don't give a fuck. They sell out products in seconds and either have to face the manufactured scarcity or buy from a scalper that resells for 200% of the already ridiculous retail price. This doesn't include the environmental impact of vinyl records, CD, and cassette production, of which Taylor produces many variants that sell unsustainable amounts.
If we're talking about women's rights violations, why is no one acknowledging the women that work in the inhumane sweatshop conditions that have to pump out fugly t-shirts and hats? The millions of plastic microfiber dander they are inhaling, or the toxic dyes that touch their bare skin? Are they being compensated fairly for their skilled labour and are they in safe working environments? Do these women have minimal bargaining power, and do they have authority over their worker's rights? Is Taylor Swift female raging at their injustices? Does Taylor Swift ever feels bad that her wealth was built on the backs of women of color, disadvantaged by the demands of the global economy and garment industry? Do you think she ever says a little white feminist prayer for them before she goes to sleep at night?
What's even crazier is not that Taylor herself doesn't care, it's that Swifties don't care. There CANNOT BE ethical billionaires. You only make a billion dollars if you are exploiting other human beings for capital gain. Based on public perception of the possible "Female Rage: The Musical" trademark, it seems like Swifties are already asking for merch with this phrase. "If Taylor made it, I'd buy it." Oh, cool. So not only do you champion Miss Swift's avarice and billionaire status, but you also are unashamed to admit to your blind consumption of her music and merchandise, no matter where they might originate in production or sincerity. Just as Swift takes and takes and takes, Swifties' consumerism of Taylor Swift cannot be quelled.
The tortured artist's most vulnerable and sincere poetry...available now in 21 different versions!

I Am Tortured Poet, Hear Me Whinge

Look - even if Taylor's intention is to characterize TTPD as more "tortured" and "angry", the main thread of the album is "I was ghosted by my decade-long situationship with a controversial indie boy and my fucking stupid fans wrote a 'Speak Up Now' open letter prompting me to drop him" anger, which is adequately expressed in the lyrics and performances. The extent of Taylor's "female rage" on TTPD is on tracks such as "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?", which contends with relentless media scrutiny; "But Daddy I Love Him", where Swift firmly states she'll date whoever she likes no matter how "Sarahs and Hannahs" may react; and "The Albatross", a track mythologizing her reputation and the consequences of dating her. Of course, these coincide with deep psychological wounds that formed during Swift's early years in the media, and so, from her feminist perspective, these subjects tackle the misogyny and double standards that she faced.
Yet Taylor Swift still has no grounds to be claiming that TTPD best exemplifies female rage and therefore she, in the context of this album, is female rage incarnate. As the daughter of a stock broker and mutual fund marketing executive, Taylor was born into wealth and allowed privileges like trips and subsequent relocation to Nashville all so that she might get a record deal. Her father even invested at least $120,000 into the then-fledgling label, Big Machine Records, which ensured Taylor's place with Borchetta after leaving her dead-end development deal with Sony. The fact that her parents were able to buy her a fucking brand new guitar for Christmas and pay for music lessons says so much about the financial security and safety of her childhood.
Money is privilege and protection, and despite Swift's experiences with misogyny and loser boyfriends, she does not know what female rage is.
Her rage is derived from her frustrations with her obsessive fans pulling the moral superiority card on Taylor in response to her rebound with Matty Healy. That's literally it. She's just pissed that the monster she created is no longer obediant, it's become a feral, sovereign entity that depletes the world of its natural resources and thinks it is more intelligent than it actually is because it's mommy has started to talk to it with big words. Apparently, 'illicit', 'elegy', 'nonchalant', and 'precocious' are considerably big words for the oafish monster, and I find it strange that this level of literacy is present in a group of fans that allegedly have GPAs of 3.5 or higher, but I digress.
Taylor Swift has never been one paycheck away from destitution. Taylor Swift has never experienced racial discrimination. She may have instances of gender discrimination, but she possesses the ideal white, blonde American beauty standard and therefore reaps the benefits of being a conventionally attractive woman. Taylor Swift has sufficient social capital. Taylor Swift is a billionaire woman prolonging her victimhood though she, as a woman, has mostly had control over her image and music (unlike her contemporaries). Taylor Swift is NOT entitled to be championed for her "female rage", nor should she be. Taylor Swift has never even been the struggling artist, for fuck's sake. I don't give a fuck if she's trying to fill the empty lunch tables of her past. Taylor Swift purporting herself, her unpolished album, and her lukewarm feminism as a musical bleeding with female rage is asinine.

Sigh Try and Come For My Job, Poors

Out there in the world right now is a 23-year-old woman, a recent college grad, who works as a barista. She has to wake up and get ready to go into a minimum wage job because she cannot get a job in her field. She doesn't have healthcare benefits or sick time, so she has to go into work no matter how she's feeling. All day long she is berated by vicious customers and creepy men, and, exhausted from being on her feet, she knows she has to go home to her shitty roommate that never does the dishes and her roommate's shitty dog. To comfort herself, she considers getting a treat, but thinks against it when she remembers that matcha lattes cost $15 and they taste like milky dirt. She knows that she needs to buy groceries this week, and so the woman resolves to go home, but notices that her gas tank is low. She goes to put gas in the car, but the pump stops at $27.86 because that's all that she has in her checking account. The woman, bereft and reeling, sinks into the driver's seat. "Well," she thinks, her head in her hands, "at least I don't have Taylor Swift's job. I just couldn't imagine."
Fame is somewhat of a choice. If at any moment Taylor feels that she is misunderstood, misconstrued, or overwhelmed by public opinion, she can LEAVE the public eye - Lord knows she has the retirement fund and residuals to do so. In "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart", the TTPD song about meeting the demands of your career-zenith mega-tour while in the relationship trenches, Taylor ends the song by rambling,

"You know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart...you know you're good...and I'm good, cause I'm miserable, and no one even knows!...try and come for my job."

Yeah, obviously we wouldn't know, you recently passed the billionaire threshold and are the most famous and in-demand performer in the world right now. Taylor Swift makes an estimated $10 to $13 million dollars A NIGHT on the Eras Tour. Furthermore, the Eras Tour movie grossed $261.6 million globally, (which, as the producer, Taylor takes home 57% of the ticket sales) not counting the streaming revenue from Amazon Prime Video and the estimated $75 million deal that Disney paid to have it on Disney+. We're not even considering the income from cheap plastic popcorn buckets and drink cups plastered with colored squares in her Era-specific likeness.
It's funny. Taylor Swift often said that being famous wasn't hard, that she "isn't complaining". I'm sure it is difficult to always have to present in a good mood, else you'll end up misrepresented in the media, and I'm sure it's invasive to virtually have no privacy or semblance of anonymity. Still, Taylor Swift shows up each night of tour and performs. For a majority of her career, she has penned her sad songs while on the road. Most of "Red", her breakup album, was written in the thick of the Speak Now World tour. Now, some Swifties say they almost "feel bad" for attending the Eras Tour with Swift's revelations in this song, that they have had a 'dimmed experience' upon hearing Taylor's misery whilst performing. Despite the fact that Taylor said that "this was the happiest she's ever been" at Gilette Stadium in May, the lyrics "boohoo, woe is me, smile for the cameras and make the fans happy!!!" are jarring for Eras attendees.
While Taylor Swift was making double-digit millions a night in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and feeling miserable, Ana Clara Benevides Machado passed away due to heat exposure. The concert promoters, Time For Fun, are now the subject of a criminal investigation due to their lack of adequate hydration and safety. Taylor Swift cancelled the Sunday show that was to follow and offered VIP tent tickets to Benevides Marchado's family, which was a kind gesture, but perhaps incongruous to the incident of which they were offered as consolation. Everyone grieves differently, of course, but I'm not sure attending the very show at the very same venue that my daughter or sister passed away in two days prior, where the singer CONTINUED the show despite her death, would be healthy for closure.
There was no female rage at the show as Swift never saw Benevides Machado pass out. There was no female rage towards the disregard for fans as humans while Swift elected to proceed with her Brazil tour dates despite the country being in historic heatwaves (at risk of overheatting herself). If Taylor Swift was so shaken by touring with a broken heart or a fan's passing, she wouldn't have added an additional North American leg of Eras just two months after the Matty breakup. She's brokenhearted but willing to mend the cracks with your money and move onward with her worldwide female rage induced pillaging.
No matter what happens, even if you die at a Taylor Swift concert, Taylor collects a big fat check and flies away. She doesn't know you as anything other than a conversion rate or earning potential despite what her nearly 20-year long parasocial relationship with fans might otherwise indicate. She knows that, while some Swifties are without disposable income, they feel obligated to spend on a "48 Hours Only!" exclusive vinyl variant instead of necessities because they are so entrenched in Taylor Swift's intoxicating celebrity, they'll prioritize materialistic fandom before their needs. This is good enough for her because this means she can expand her real estate portfolio and finance her cat's lavish lifestyles. They're worth an estimated $100 million dollars. Her three cats could pool their net worth and solve world hunger.
While you and I might be denied bereavement leave and barely surviving the current political and economic climate, Taylor Swift has to, instead of gets to, perform for stadiums at full attendance for three nights in a row across the globe. You and I might be replaced by AI at our longtime jobs, but Taylor Swift is threatened with losing more and more money each time you listen to a "Stolen Version" of her songs. If we don't buy every variant of all of her albums, then who is going to pay for the fucking cats?
It is tone deaf to spend as she spends and lives as she lives in this economy, but this is her reality. She was able to donate $100,000 to all of her tour truck drivers, and that's wonderful, but it leads me to wonder about the ethos of the 2020s where one woman can hoard such life-changing amounts of money. Remember in 2014 when she gave a fan $90 ($120 in today's money) to get Chipotle because she had no fucking clue how much it cost? This is a 34-year-old woman who is increasingly out of touch with the reality for working class people and women in general. Normal everyday adults must wake up and go to their thankless jobs, and yet Taylor Swift, despite all her riches, incessantly references the lows of her life and career as a public figure and entertainer to farm sympathy and drive sales. And still, the corporate women have latched onto "I cry a lot, but I am so productive! It's an art!" as their cubicle battle cry.
Do you think that, from up in her private jet, Taylor Swift gazes at the world through her poetic, tortured eyes, and thinks, "All the little people, in their cars, walking, going about their lives...all those girls that don't support girls...do they know that I've made an album about female rage?"

Conclusion/TLDR

Thank you for reading. I would love to hear your critical insights towards this entire ordeal: TTPD, the trademark, the implications of it all.
TLDR: Taylor Swift is a bad feminist and is delusional to think that the TTPD eras set exemplifies female rage at women's injustice.

I'm (23F) primarily coming here because I feel like I don't know who I can talk to about this and just need to get some things out. My sister (21F) is graduating from college this spring and has been looking for a job for the past few months. This morning, she found out she got a job in a different state (will become relevant) and my mom (54F) and I were so happy and relieved that she finally got her first job. My dad (51M) on the other hand was pretty furious because it meant that she was moving to a different state and the car he was going to give her no longer would be needed.
For some context, my parents got divorced when my sister and I were pretty young and things haven't really ever been smooth between them. My dad lives in the South, my sister is graduating from a school in the Northeast and going to work elsewhere in the Northeast, and my mom and I live on the West Coast (as we have for all of my life). My mom raised my sister and I and put us through the best private school she could and made sure we were always her first priority (she's the best).
My dad has always been a pretty controlling person, but I've come to a point where I've learned to manage his involvement in my life and have learned how to placate him to a certain degree. Mine and his relationship has gotten a little easier over the past few years for a few reasons but his relationship with my sister has gotten worse. He sees her as not very communicative and not very willing to "meet him halfway" but from her point of view, he's never understood her or taken the time to try to see who she is and what's important to her.
Cut to recently, I graduated from college last year and my graduation gift from him was money (within a certain limit) for a car. He helped me buy the car I chose and had said that the same would be given to my sister the following year (this year) when she graduated. As great as getting money for a car and having help with buying it is, it came with a lot of strings and was not something my sister or I directly asked for. That's not to say we're not grateful for the cars, but he was the one who offered; it wasn't as though we twisted his arm to get him to buy us a car or something.
Now, instead of buying my sister a separate car, he decided he was going to give her his current car so he could buy a different one that better suited his needs. My sister liked the car that he was going to give her, but last year I had been able to research what kind of car would best suit my needs and pick out the car I would end up getting. She was fine with not being able to have the same free reign I did, but perhaps wasn't very communicative with him because she's been trying to complete all of her finals and final assignments as well as try as much as possible to enjoy her last semester of undergrad.
My sister got a few final interviews for a job opportunity in a place where she wouldn't need a car, and she got an offer letter this morning for the job. Instead of congratulating her, my dad said she was "not an adult" and that she needed to "learn to think for herself" instead of deferring to my mom. He said he was "sad and let down" and was upset at how poor the communication between him and my sister was about the car.
More things he said: "I don't deserve this poor communication" "You don't respond to me. Respond to all kinds of social media meanwhile all day" "You only respond at times that work for you. It comes across as selfish/childish". He then sent my mom this nightmare: "It's a fitting end to our coparenting. You've been controlling and a nightmare the entire time. You were never grateful I permitted you to move to SoCal. I didn't want the girls to grow up with a functionally depressed mom in the Bay Area. As always, it's always about you and the girls and you don't ever give a f*ck about their dad. So selfish. Such a bad mom. [my name] gets it. [my sister's name] will in time. I'm honestly ashamed I let you into my life and regret it still to this day. White-trasy, lying, selfish, vain. I told [my name] how your behavior was to break every rule as a co-parent. She understood. I didn't attack you. I did attack the sh*t behavior. Hopefully someday I'll have that chat with [my sister's name] when she gets her head out of her a*s."
Just typing the text makes my blood boil. I don't know what to do. I'm planning to bring this to my therapist in a few days but am not sure what to do until then. I think this could sever my sister's relationship with my dad, and I'm not sure I want to continue mine with him anyway. I'm also pretty uncomfortable with him thinking I'm on his side, but I don't want to meddle further if it's going to make it worse for my mom and sister. There's a lot more context and information I could probably give but for the sake of not writing a novel about the situation, I'll end here.
TLDR: My sister got a job in a big city where cars aren't needed and my dad is upset that he has to sell the car and decided he was going to cuss her and my mom out instead of congratulate her.

About a year ago, I [29 M] was in a toxic relationship with J [29 M]. While there were no serious stakes in it (no kids or messy finances), the relationship and breakup ended up emotionally affecting me in a way I had never really thought possible. I feel guilty because after the relationship I tried to be friends with my ex still, which I now see as a mistake in the context of this relationship, and then after a few months, he blocked me because I didn't respect a boundary he had set about not sending him long messages. He said he didn't feel safe since I "completely ignored" the boundary.
I was devastated, but over the course of the next few months, came to understand a great deal of ways that I feel that I had been abused during the relationship. I felt angrier and angrier, and even though I was seeing a therapist, it eventually boiled over. My ex had blocked me on discord and probably on text, but I went onto an astrology app called Co-Star that he had had me download, and sent a message using it that said something like, "You were an abusive partner, but you can make it right with an apology."
Now, I have no idea if he actually saw the message. It was sent with a weird feature of the app called Chaos Mode that apparently chooses to send the message at some future time, so who knows if it actually ever sent. I don't know if he still has the app, if he unfriended me, or whatnot. But I feel guilty because I enacted exactly the caricature of me that he had created--I hadn't respected his boundaries, and I sent the message anyways.
At the same time, I am still feeling very victimized by the relationship. To give you a sense of the kinds of things that were going on in the relationship, here's a few examples that I currently find a little horrific [Note: this kind of turned into a summary of the relationship after I wrote it]. I'm aware that to heal I should probably not be ruminating about these things, especially if they lead me to boil over and message him, but here you go.
The first time I had sex with him, he slammed the door on me for not being able to finish and said "finish yourself." When I came to bed, I told him I felt shame. He said "good." The next time we had sex, he set a timer for me and said I had to finish within 5 minutes. These were the first times I ever had sex. He was manipulative in bed, telling me he didn't want to perform certain acts because I didn't give him enough praise for them, so that I started exaggerating my pleasure; he blamed me for why certain positions weren't working and was frustrated with how my body worked. On top of this, he admitted at the end of the relationship to having had sex with me around five times after he decided to break up with me (before he did), which just makes me feel a bit icky.
He would put me down in pretty transparently cruel ways. One example was when I exerted myself, he said I sounded like a muppet and that he "didn't want to be dating a muppet." When I offered him a blanket but apologized that it might not have been washed in a while, he called me a baby. He would insult my ability to give complements, asking me to tell him what color his eyes are but then rejecting everything that I gave him, telling me I was bad at complements repeatedly (and saying that it wasn't fair of him because his other exes were artists, so no wonder I was bad). Now, there were times that he was complementary to me--he told me I was hot, good at singing, good at writing, smart--but also times where he would put me down for things I was less good at, like cooking.
He constantly made me feel insecure about my gender. (For context, we are both men, but he was raised as a woman). So he would make pretty sweeping feminist critiques over fairly mundane things, like if I complained when I was sick he would go off about how men are always babies when they are sick and women don't get attention. When I confronted him about some of the things he was saying, telling him that while I wanted him to express these kinds of social problems so that I could be aware and adapt, I was feeling insecure in the relationship--he flipped it around and told me that if I didn't feel loved, he could say "I love you" less, and that I hadn't been grateful enough for when he came to visit me. (I had written him poetry, deep cleaned my apartment, taken time off work, sent my roommate off for the week, bought him a bus pass, planned his visit, met him in the airport despite not having a car, and just an insane amount of work to be turned into, "you weren't grateful enough").
Other than namecalling, he was just plain controlling. The reason that the boundary around me not sending long messages exists is that when I felt insecure--which I think makes sense given the ways he would talk to me--I would often send him a few paragraphs apologizing and explaining how I was growing. Even though long messages were the first thing he said he loved about me, and that he said our communication was like magic, he eventually set up what he called an "Essay embargo" and told me not to write them. The first time he set the "embargo", he had said it was only until we met in person because he didn't want me to write anything that would make him nervous. After we met in person, I assumed the embargo had lifted. Yet shortly after, he set it again, giving a few explanations--the main one just being that he wanted to appreciate our relationship without overthinking it. It seemed playful. He definitely did also say that long messages made him uncomfortable because he felt obligated to send a response. So, when I did send messages, I would add that he didn't have to respond (which I realize is not fully respecting the boundary). I did ask after sending messages whether they were ok and he never responded to those questions.
Despite this, there were times during the relationship that I continued to send long, often apologetic messages. I had felt like this boundary was set playfully and I also was feeling overwhelming guilt that I, for whatever reason, needed his affirmation for. I am conflicted because on the one hand, I was definitely ignoring his boundary--but on the other, I feel like the boundary was not very thoughtful of my own needs, either.
Prior to the breakup, it was hell. He was getting angry at me for everything--for pretty mundane things like using the bathroom before him and stinking it up. He told me he had to show me how to do everything, but I realize now that a lot of this was just him being particular (e.g, he told me I don't know how to drink tea because I left the bag in, when I just like it strong). Unfortunately, I had flown 5,000 miles to visit him and was sort of trapped in his proximity, and was drunk on love still since I was trying very hard, it was my first relationship, and he had sold me on notions of fairytale romance and told me we were cosmically meant to be together and other lovebomby sort of things. At one point, he missed a turn while driving with GPS and got angry at me for not helping--he disconnected his phone and threw it sideways at me (I guess so I could navigate for him, but it was a pretty retaliatory motion). We flew to a convention and I met some of his friends, and at one point he introduced me to a girl he had almost dated before, saying I was a friend and not a partner. I pointed this out to him later and he just said "does that make you angry?". He flirted with a woman at a party, telling her she was pretty while demanding that i bring him snacks (I feel so, so weak for not confronting him about this). He got drunk and I stayed with him as he passed out, but he was angry at me in the morning. When one of his friends told me they thought I was nice, because i was opening doors for everyone, my ex said "Is he really?" Questioning them.
The breakup itself was cold and calculated. He started it by telling me that he thought about not giving me any reasons for the breakup because I always overanalyze things. He told me he wouldn't have broken up with me if I was a woman. He told me I didn't take care of him and he needs a partner that takes care of him, and that his partners always feel taken care of. He threw some things I had said at the beginning of the relationship back at me--misquoting and misunderstanding them.
After the relationship, I had no idea what to think. It was my first relationship. It had started with fairytale romance. I had been passing his tests, I had been an exception to his long string of abusive relationships. He presented himself as this incredibly moral person (vegan, environmentally conscious, telling me of all of the ways others had abused him that he would never do, even his closest friends). I had completely internalized criticisms that he had had of me throughout the relationship, many of which had led to serious self reflection and my writing messages about my growth. Within a week I told him I still loved him and that I always would. He reminded me of his boundary around long messages and said they made him anxious. I was desperate. We took a few weeks of no-contact. We messaged short-messages back and forth, with a few life-updates to eachother each. He told me he was rescuing a kitten that he found, and I remembered how he could be kind.
But as I processed, more and more, I felt angry. I wrote unsent angry letters in the notes app on my phone for a month. I wrote myself a 20,000 word summary of the relationship. This was not a healthy way to process. It elevated me. (Some of you will probably comment that maybe I shouldn't have written this post for the same reason, but oh well--I wanted to process and I want to hear if others have similar stories). Meanwhile, my ex kept pushing back the date for when we would verbally connect again. Eventually, I boiled over. I did not insult him. But I wrote a long message explaining that I wanted to take 3 months of no-contact. I had entered another relationship and told him that even though I was feeling angry at him, he shouldn't be worried because even though I had baggage from the relationship, I was communicating well with my new partner. I also told him that I felt like if I did talk with him, that I would end up tearing him a new one, and that I needed time to cool down. I'm not proud of the message in general, but I didn't call names, tell him he was awful, or anything like that. I was just insensitive and told him I was angry.
And like that, I was blocked. It was over. A period of about 9 months, five of which we were together, with two before escalating towards love bombing and two after escalating towards my boiling over.
And yet, I had never expressed to him that I thought he had been abusive. I felt frustrated that I had told him that I would always love him, when in many ways now I hated him.
Five months passed, during which I came to realize more and more how messed up the relationship was.
And then I sent the message on Co-star.
Fast forward another four months to now.
I just sent him a text, knowing he probably has blocked me there too. It said something like, "I want my last message to you just be: I'm sorry, and I forgive you." I wanted to free myself. I needed to not feel angry at him or ashamed of myself. I needed to not feel like I had a million things to say to him--I needed to just say, this is it: I'm not sending more messages. I'm sorry, and I forgive you. It was for myself. I was forgiving him selfishly, even though he didn't deserve it, so that I could move on.
I feel like I shouldn't have sent this, but I don't feel bad about it yet, either. I needed closure. It always felt like there was some "message I could send" to detail his abuse, and I needed to not have that standing over me--I needed to forgive. I am now oscillating between wondering about myself--whether I have a problem with boundaries, since I had boiled over at this point three times to message him. Feeling frustrated I didn't assert myself about his abuse, that I doubled down on loving him. Part of me is glad that I sent the message on Co-Star saying that he was abusive, because it was the only indication I ever gave him, really, that what he did wasn't ok to me--he had blocked me before I could articulate anything. But I also know that this message even if received would not mean anything to him.
Anyways, now I'm venting about it here on Reddit. Does anyone have similar experiences surrounding self control messaging exes and feeling a bit out of control?

I'm aware of the miscommunications and shenanigans you're experiencing on here while trying to keep up with me. Yes, I see that you're putting out your own feelers hoping to make a connection with me. Yes, I'm aware of how often you encounter my imposter instead of me.
No, I'm not doing anything about it. I've been uncommunicative for days on here but have noticed you repeatedly attempt to carry on public conversations with strangers' you pretend are me. You are fully aware of who actually is me on here. I am right here.
You're aware of how to get ahold of me outside of this place. You should also be fully aware of what kind of person I am to discern my style of writing and character versus a total stranger just trying to be disrespectful and inflammatory. I don't make demands on reddit. I don't ask to meet or try to fight anyone's ex for their approval. I don't bash women. I am self-contained and social when I choose to be.
You're also fully able to utilize dms and communicate with me through this profile directly to clear up any imposter profile problems. You're able to ask me things privately using any of the external links I've added to my handle. The avenues to reach me are all open to you. But instead, you choose to put on a song and dance, parasocially talking 'at' me in the community and allowing implications to tie us together. If you want to actually communicate with ME privately, I'm here. If you're only looking to link your handle with mine or feed some antiquated drama machine at my expense, look elsewhere.
I will block any vague letter-reply responses to this as it directly violates what I'm insisting you use: direct communication. If you feel comfortable enough to attack me based on what strangers' write, you're comfortable enough to talk to me directly. So now because of your past misdeeds, I will insist on direct communication so you can't hide behind strangers' and ambiguity. I am right here. What do you have to say?
You either want to talk to me and are upset because you think you are but are being messed with, or you're trying to use me to publicly punch down on someone.
Since I'm not here to feed your exhibitionism and I didn't sign up to be someone's bitch, you're going to have to put in the work. If you absolutely need to talk to me in front a community of others but can't muster up a single word in private, you'll be laughed out of my spaces like the joke you insist on being.
Ps. I threw the pocket watch in the trash.

It has been a lot. More than it has ever been in my life. I made it out alive. I made it out alive from the biggest battle, I could have ever imagined. I was pretty sure, it would take the best of me, I was committed to that, it would take me. I was pretty sure, I would never write a letter again. I was pretty sure, I would not breathe again.
I was in somewhere else for a long while.
And now I'm in here. Back in here, back in Trench.
I'm sorry, my frens, that I have been distant. I love your torches over here, the fact you are in here.
I heard this song some weeks ago from distance. In the beginning it repeats a sentece in different languages. The lines goes like
Diese kleine heimliche Insel hat mich zu einer Waffe gemacht Wir glauben beide Cette petite île étrange a fait de moi une arme Nous croyons tous les deux que nous pouvons L'utiliser pour changer l'élan de cette guerre)Esta pequeña isla espeluznante me ha convertido en un arma Ambos creemos que podemos usarla para cambiar el impulso de esta guerra
I believe, it all means that "this secret little island turned me into a weapon. We both believe, we can use it to change the momentum of this war."
In my language, which I have always known, it would be "Tämä pieni salainen saari teki minusta aseen. Me molemmat uskomme, että sitä voi käyttää sodankäynnin muuttumiseen."
Leaves, trees and grass has turned into green. Sky is more blue and the air is filled with more dust to breathe. Dandelions are reborning from the weirdest places I could ever expect them to do so.
It feels like they didn't do that last year, like they skipped it. Did I skip it? This year, they are more yellow, more green, more dusty than ever before. The sky is more open than ever before.
I didn't understood that I'm in Trench again. Until this day. I have been away from everywhere for so long. I believe, that that secret little island turned me into a weapon. We both believe, we can use it to change the mometum of this war. Still not sure, if that was their message, but I'm feeling it. But yeah. Welcome back to Trench. I wrote a song few weeks ago, a way before these dandelions showed up.
"How are you doing?" thanks, for not asking, I just visited your collegue told her "I might have a colic but otherwise, I'm at my peak" she looked at me with inch of pity or then it was just me in a slight problem of reflection on her synthetic domination
I'm bothered by expect to behave at my age
when today I was too tired to even do my lace
I wouldn't like to care if I left behind my left Vans
but now I know I would have to buy new shoes
and there's no chance, I would learn to run over again
especially when I would have to do it with this shame
It was my time, to pick up my fight it was dark and cold, in the night your silver dashes gave me the light you looked like a bee when you cried through your lences while I prayed, "please don't let anyone tell me I didn't try" and you said, "it doesn't matter, anyway you have known it all in each of your ruins, and I have told it to you thousand of times, don't look at them they don't know a shit look at me instead, let's sit with it."
I've been running I've been running stop, repeat
I taste on my tongue, drop of drool knowing damn well, I could suck a pool of it, if it has no chlorine in it ironic, innit? when we know I like to spit instead of sucking it up, what it even means, a thug?
So, dad, are you proud of me now?
Mom, is this where you pointed your arrow? (at)
Brother do you think you know me so well,
is it still me, and red dead redemption and dwell?
It was my time, to pick up my fight it was dark and cold, in the night your silver dashes gave me the light you looked like a bee when you cried through your lences while I prayed, "please don't let anyone tell me I didn't try" and you said, "it doesn't matter, anyway you have known it all in each of your ruins, and I have told it to you thousand of times, don't look at them they don't know a shit look at me instead, let's sit with it."
I've been running I've been running stop, play
Wondering down the streets wandering through my schemes I wasn't fine with most of the things at the ends of the my past's strings I let it go, my palms still bleed but now I see, I need to feed myself, pay my bills if I really care about if I actually agree with the plot
I'm fighting in between paying for new you
or buying the pair of socks and few
slices of cheese, instead
It was my time, to pick up my fight it was dark and cold, in the night your silver dashes gave me the light you looked like a bee when you cried through your lences while I prayed, "please don't let anyone tell me I didn't try" and you said, "it doesn't matter, anyway you have known it all in each of your ruins, and I have told it to you thousand of times, don't look at them they don't know a shit look at me instead, let's sit with it." '
What if I don't wanna sit anyway, I'm running again, straight into the forest well, I don't want to sit at least today each tree looks the same, I look for thickest to run directly against so I can pass out and resist moving on come on tell me one more time "it's time to sit, my friend"
On rewind
Drowning in your honey
like I never need to obey
It has always been my time, always picking my fight it is always dark and cold, it is always the night your silver dashes grew along, in a different light someone like you will always look like a bee and cry someone like me will always circle and think they didn't even try and the dying bees will keep telling it;
"are you done running from today? let's sit with it,
oh you are flying, by the dangerous bend symbol again?
for who you gave the remote, on your last refrain?"

There's the thickest tree with the marks of destruction
before I collapse, I wonder how bees works in isolation
buzzz.....

Please, tell me again, that old story you have "
I miss B. She was something else. But I know it is my time to stand up again, and look at myself as I am, from the reflection of the puddle, here in Trench. It is my time to come back, and overtake my former self.
B always told me, that I have everything I need, it all is built inside me. It is hard to believe, when I'm cold at nights, but I know she is correct. I know she is correct, because I have to. I was giving up, and with B I found it again. We lit my torch again. And she made me understood, why I need to return to Trench. I needed to return in here. I will reach my hand above the tide, for one more time.
My song is written for B. I need to stand in here, and wait for the torches, my responsability is to lit up my torch. We are in here. Like we have always been.
Welcome back to Trench, A. Welcome back to Trench, with all of it's terror, insecurities, colours and sounds. And torches. I'm still alive.
Are you here with me? Are you still alive out there?
-A

I am so goddamn tired of making it to several final round interviews, being told over over and over about what a "great fit" I am for the position, what a "great addition" I'd be to the team, how "impressive" my experience is....only to either be ghosted or rejected. Tired of getting a rejection email barely an hour after I submit my application. Tired of people not willing to give me a chance. Tired of dealing with recruiters asking me the same questions over and over. Tired of writing cover letters. Tired of seeing people who were also included in my round of layoffs getting hired, while for some reason I'm somehow not good enough for ANYONE to hire me. I'm sick of it.
I genuinely do not know how much of this I have left in me. I'm seriously ready to just give up and become homeless at this point. I can't do it anymore.

———
I'm almost 30 and have one child who is 5 years old. I'm an OFW and coming home this month because my contract has ended. My child's father is a foreigner whom I met abroad. I came home to the Philippines when I got pregnant 5 years ago, and since then, I haven't seen my ex, but sometimes we communicate and he sends money. A lot happened while I was pregnant: I found out he already had a family and children, his business failed, he had many loans at the bank, and the pandemic made it impossible for him to return to the Philippines when I gave birth. I eventually accepted the reality that he deceived me. My Facebook account is locked, and my name is in Japanese to prevent him from finding me on social media.
Now, we are in communication again, and he sends money every month for our child. He said he tried to find me but couldn't. He claims he's financially stable now and wants to make it up to me and our child, and he mentioned that we could get married. His plan is to take us abroad where he works. He has already filed for leave in July because he is serious about coming home to see our child, and he has booked a plane ticket and hotel in advance.
My problem is that I am in a relationship. I had a boyfriend when I left the Philippines, and he has been waiting for me. Our relationship isn't perfect, and we often argue, but not because of other men or women. My boyfriend doesn't know that I have been communicating with my ex because he once said he would leave me if I did. (I know this is cheating, but don't judge.)
My dilemma is that I don't know whom to choose or what the right decision is. I don't want to deprive my child of the chance to know his real father, especially since he has started asking about him. Financially, I need his help because I'm not very good at earning money, and my ex doesn't know that I have a boyfriend. He doesn't care as long as we can be a family.
On the other hand, my boyfriend is almost 7 years younger than me. I never expected him to wait this long. He plans to return to school, and I'm afraid we might not be endgame. He has a tendency to say hurtful things. I remember once when I jokingly suggested he should support my child's education, he said, "How dare you? Someone else had the fun, and I get the responsibility!" He was angry when I teased him, but it hurt. He doesn’t cheat, but he says hurtful things, and I worry he might one day resent everything he has done for me and my child. I tell myself it’s because he’s young, but I can’t help but overthink that I might be making the wrong bet. I'm also scared because I read open letters about people on Facebook and TikTok, and I know of children who were neglected because their parents remarried. I fear my child might end up feeling the same way or not being accepted by my future husband’s family.
My child has met my boyfriend and thinks he is his father. But I'm waiting and hoping that my boyfriend will sometimes remember my child and check on him. During Christmas, he didn't think of giving or sending gifts for my child, but he did for his godchildren, saying he had no money. However, there was one time he bought school supplies when we were fighting, trying to prove he loved my child. I know it’s impossible for him to love my child as his own based on his personality, but I still hope. I don’t want to hurt him because he waited so long, or maybe I just don’t want to be blamed and called a cheater. He has said many hurtful things to me when he's angry, but I let them slide because I'm afraid of being left again. Maybe now it’s different because I have somewhere to go, and that’s my ex. I still don’t know what to do. All I know is that being a parent is hard. I don’t love my ex anymore, but I can sacrifice for the complete family that my child deserves.

CHARACTER AGENCY

It's ridiculous how passive and honestly "NPC" the other characters in the world are. For an installment in the series that wanted to dip deeper into the "Roleplay" side of things, it's absolutely crucial that CK3 find a way to make the other characters in the world feel like real, living, breathing, and independent people, and it currently falls flat on that.
Here are just some ways that you could improve character agency in the game:

• Characters should be able to push for appointments, regularly. How am I a god that just comes in and names every single knight and court position in the land with not a breath of reaction from my entire court. Do you know how many people would've had the king's ear in this time and been pushing for themselves or their friends or family for these appointments? Think of the court intrigue you've seen in shows like Game of Thrones or Shogun or Succession, now think how well the game captures that feeling. The -40 opinion penalty for major vassals not being on your council is a boring static modifier that doesn't take into account personality and context and only applies to your council, not to court positions or knighthoods. The random events in your Royal Court where people push for appointments are infrequent, pretty random, have little consequence, and are actually entirely optional if you never Hold Court. People should be pushing to fill your different roles regularly and react positively or negatively if you pick people they like or don't like. Here are some examples:
  • People should be able to push for themselves to be appointed, for their friends, for their family, for people they respect, for people of their culture and/or religion, for people with similar personalities to them.
  • People should oppose the appointment of their rivals, people from families their family is feuding with, people they dislike, cultures or religions they oppose, etc.
  • Personality traits should affect who people push for. Deceitful characters may want you to purposely appoint incompetent knights, bodyguards, food tasters, etc. if they dislike you. Zealous characters prioritize religion far above other qualities. Diligent characters prioritize the most competent candidate. Vengeful characters highly oppose their enemies being chosen. Greedy characters prioritize appointments for themselves or their family. Impatient characters will get upset if you leave the position vacant for too long. Trusting characters will only push for candidates they really know well.
• Characters should be able to refuse appointments, or resign from positions. Maybe the talented firstborn son of the king does not wish for the duty to rule and refuses the election to King and instead wishes to spend his days frequenting brothels and fighting in tournaments. Maybe a martially gifted vassal that has huge estates and is living comfortably in his manor off of his rents doesn't want to be appointed as my Marshall and chase and stamp down peasant revolts for a living, so he comes up with an excuse to refuse the appointment. Perhaps I need to change his mind by paying him a visit to persuade him in person, or by hosting a great feast in my hall with him as the honorary guest, or by arranging a marriage between our families. Perhaps my masterful Steward is offended at the lowborns and heathens I have hired into my council, and resigns out of protest. Perhaps my Marshall is ashamed at how badly the last war went under his purview, and resigns out of shame. Perhaps my Chancellor just heard news that his son was killed in a hunting accident back home, and resigns to go spend time on his estate with his family.
• Characters should react to actions the player takes.
  • Won a great battle? Maybe a knight approaches you after the battle wishing to enter your service after hearing of the tale. Maybe your marshall approaches you and congratulates on your generalship. If it was against heathens, maybe the Pope writes you a letter congratulating you on the victory of Christendom. Maybe a vassal approaches you and offers to build a statue in his domain to honour your victory.
  • Declared a new war? Maybe a vassal refuses the call to war citing some excuse, withholding his levies and giving you a reason to punish him in the future. Maybe another vassal joins with his personal troops as well because he is personally interested in success in this war.
  • Built a building in your vassal's land? Your vassal should thank you and like you more.
• Characters should regularly ask for favours from the player, and the player should be able to ask them in return. Maybe a an existing councillor asks that you hire him to another position for which he thinks he is better suited. Perhaps a vassal approaches you with a marriage offer, and in return offers to build a church in your honour. Perhaps a vassal approaches you and asks that you declare war on the country that is raiding their lands, and in return offers to increase his obligations to you. Perhaps a vassal asks that you raise his children with the greater learning available in your court, and in return he will send you his brother to serve as your knight. Perhaps the pope asks you to build a church and in return offers to send you some learned monks and an artifact.
• Characters should regularly travel to visit each other or do things. It seems like the only thing characters beside me do is lead armies, and go on hunts. Why don't my councillors go back to visit their estates? To see their families? Why don't distant family members travel to see each other? To host family reunions?
• The player should be able to consult decisions with other characters. What is the point of my councillors if they never give me counsel? If I am planning on giving out land to new vassals, each of them should be there with suggestions on who I should give it to, or whether I should even give it away at all. And it should not just be my councillors, sometimes these decisions are leaked and my entire court will find out, in which case many courtiers would have their own opinions on what should be done! Maybe one of my guests approaches me and begs I give the land to them due to some ancestral claim. Maybe my food taster during dinner tells me he thinks it should go to my existing vassal X because he manages his current estates so well. And what if I want to host an activity? I should be able to ask my councillors or courtiers which activity they wish for or think would be best to host next. Maybe they have suggestions for where to host it, how to plan it, who to invite, etc. Maybe my marshall wants a tournament but my chaplain wants a pilgrimage. Maybe in my feast, my Steward wants me to invite vassal X but my wife despises him and wishes me not to.

The fact that almost none of these features exist in a meaningful way in the game is kind of ridiculous, for a game that tries so hard to be role-play centered and story-driven. Think about how much we are missing out on because of the lack of agency of characters in the world. Imagine if other characters in the world acted like us as the player character. Think of the story opportunities if features like the above were implemented to make for more independent AI characters.

Hi everyone!
I wanted to give a detailed review of my experience with sm global package for taemin’s metamorph concert in tokyo at the nippon budokan. I am months delayed in posting this (thanks to grad school) but I initially wrote it out of post-concert depression prior to returning to the states back in March.
buying the global package, twin ver:
the package was announced sometime in december 2023 if im not mistaken and I stayed up until midnight (pst) on 1/22 to book a twin package for ‘course c’ which was 2N3D (sunday concert 3/10) for my friend and I. The packages that included all three nights (5D3N) of the show sold out the quickest, but there were still packages available for individual show days. As a tip to make things easier, make sure to have your friends’ passport info to input in advance so the booking goes easier if you are booking a twin package. If you are the one making the booking, make sure to have the global package app downloaded as they will send you notifications along the way about day of show schedule, merch preorder, etc. They ask that you relay this info to your partner when you purchase a twin package, as you are the primary reservation holder. You also cannot split the cost while booking, it must go on one card through paypal. When booking, you have the option to request extending your stay at the hotel through sm c&c, but since we were planning to go to Kyoto after the concert, we just checked out the day after the concert as planned. Also we didn’t have any ACE memberships, but if I remember correctly, you can enter that info to get an exclusive MD benefit.
merch preorder:
Prior to arriving in Japan, we got a notification at around 6pm pst on 2/28 (11 days prior to the show) with our exclusive merch preorder links which went live at midnight that same night. The prices were in yen and you pay using paypal. I had no problem getting the MD I wanted, however since there were limits on the amount of MD you could purchase (including the 2 different pins, which were 1 per order) I had to ask my friend if I could purchase an additional pin through his MD preorder link since there were 2 different pins in this specific concert MD. The day of the show (3/10) at around 10am, we picked up the MD we preordered with ease and pulled our concert seat tickets and received our global package exclusive gift (a mag safe wallet) and let the staff know which transports we would be taking (round trip bus or one way to/from the venue). I was a ljttle disappointed in the global package benefit MD as I had seen what the metamorph show in Korea had received (I think it was a handwritten letter from Taemin and a little lego figurine of him 🤧). Everything was smooth and efficient. Even after the concert, I was able to get into the MD line to purchase more, even though most of the MD was sold out.
checking in/out of the hotel & hotel review:
We stayed at the Hotel Monterey Hanzomon which was really close to the venue and across the street from the Hanzomon subway line, so it was very accessible by public transit. My friend and I both flew into Haneda and it took a little less than an hour to get to the hotel from the airport via public transit, but after a 12.5 hour long flight it was exhausting. When I asked the people at the airport if there was an airport limousine to the area, they said it wouldn’t take me close enough to the hotel and recommended I take the subway. We had met a few people in line for the MD pickup who said that we (allegedly) had a nicer hotel than those who did the NCT 127 global package for their Tokyo dome show (same weekend) but all in all, Hanzomon was an economy hotel with nothing to write home about. I will say the breakfast buffet included was really nice and I’m glad we didn’t skip out on it. When we checked in the day before the show, we just showed our passports and checked in like any other hotel. In the lobby there was a whiteboard with all of the concert info (opening times for md pickup, bus schedules, and concert schedule) displayed in english, korean, chinese, and japanese. I was a little bummed to find out that the concert (which took place in the middle of the afternoon) was only going to be an hour and a half maximum, even though NCT’s concert was almost 4 hours (!!!) in length.
day of show:
We had breakfast in the lobby around 8:30/9ish then after that we got to the sm desk at 9:45am to pick up our md and pick our tickets for the show (thanks to the tip from another fan on reddit, well worth getting there a little before the booth opened). I did notice the ACE membership MD benefits were nice, but neither me nor my friend have any fanclub memberships. It was relatively straightforward, they checked our passports and handed us a lanyard that acted as our bus pass and then one person per twin package picks the pair of tickets at random (in sets of 2 so you sit with your friend) and we got seats in section A3 (floor) which were great. They asked us if we wanted a seat on the bus ride round trip or one way and we originally said only one ride to the venue, but my friend decided to take the bus back too once we got to the venue so we notified the SM staff and they added us to the roster for the ride back easily. When we got to the venue (an hour and a half-ish before doors) they escorted us to the front and we were let in immediately. The efficiency was incredible. They didn’t check my bag prior to entering like how they would for a concert in the US so I didn’t bring a water bottle into the venue but thankfully they had vending machines inside and concessions on the top levels of the venue. We also went to a booth upstairs to pair our lightsticks for the show, since the Japanese Shinee Lightstick app is only available for Japanese phones, so we showed our ticket locations and they were able to calibrate. The show was short yet sweet, we did not see anyone ejected for taking photos/videos but we were too scared to risk it. If you are caught filming or taking photos they will make you delete the photos/videos and kick you out with no sign of return, but I think because it was the last day and we were in the middle of a crowd, it was a little easier to get away with. There was a sadness in the air because it was Taemin’s last concert as a soloist under SM, but overall the show was incredible. One thing of note though is Japanese audiences are very quiet, they tend to clap rather than scream in between songs and there were times where you could hear someone from the rafters sneeze and it would resonate, so be prepared for that cultural difference. We still screamed when it felt appropriate to do so and the fanchants were loud but it was definitely strange to be golf clapping in between songs, especially in comparison to shows in the US where fans are barking 💀. It was nice to be able to hear Taemin speak uninterrupted during the ments, without pick-me fans interjecting their screams. He spoke exclusively in Japanese and there was no translator so we were left to guess what he was saying. A K-fan next to us was live Papago-ing his ments to Korean and I would peek and read what the translation was. Also shout out to this lovely K-shawol because she let my friend borrow one of her lightsticks! Once the show ended, everyone queued up to leave the venue in an orderly fashion and we cleaned up any trash we saw and we went out to the MD booth to buy any last minute MDs before going to the bus. On the bus, they gave us each a (unthemed) bag with some strawberry cookies and a waterbottle and we had a fun time air-dropping photos and videos from the show with other (braver) global package attendees. Everyone we met was so lovely and everything about the global package went very smoothly and efficiently.
edit: I forgot to mention that Japanese fans who had floor seats (most likely ACE club membership) received some sort of paper goods (postcard, photocard, folder etc.) upon entering the venue, a benefit that global package members did not receive. I only saw it because I went upstairs to the main entrance to sync my lightstick. I was too afraid to ask about the benefits, but I think it also might have had to do with which company you bought your ticket from (?) or where you preordered the album from (?)
closing thoughts:
the day after the show, we took advantage of the free breakfast and checked out with ease. The SM C&C staff left the whiteboard in the lobby and left a nice note for us and we wrote our thank yous on there. Overall, the package cost was $1559 for 2 people ($779 ea, 2 twin beds for 2N3D) and even though it was pricey it was so worth the convenience of not having to try to buy tickets locally, which I heard sold out entirely during fan club presale. Please note that this cost did not include airfare or transit to/from the airport. The concert coincided with my spring break and Taemin is one of my ults, I just wrote a paper on him for grad school so it was a no brainer, I had to be there no matter what lol. I was a bit disappointed in the lack of theming (I heard the concerts in Korea come with themed rooms, themed snacks, etc) and the lack of transportation to and from the airport (which I heard is sometimes an option for shows in Korea and would have been a great benefit). But otherwise the hotel was clean and convenient (a little small, but that’s how it is normally in an economy hotel in Japan), breakfast was good, SM staff were helpful and nice, and we made some new Shawol friends in the meantime :)
overall, I would absolutely book with global package again, but I would definitely want to see a show in Korea to compare the benefits. It was an unforgettable experience to be apart of the pearl aqua ocean 💎
if you have any questions ask away! prior to booking this package, I took the advice of another fan under a different thread, and it was really helpful so I wanted to offer any insight based off my experience.

A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.

Hello, I'm a 23-year-old male in his 4th year of college and will soon graduate in the next three months. I'm writing this entry because my life for the past four years has been that of repeated cycles and familiar shame. On the outside, people see me as a pretty social guy who is active and has it all together. But on the inside, I feel like a mess.
I often experience periods in which I go through the same cycles. In these past years, however, I've picked up on more journaling, meditation, camping, and even have had therapy for short periods. All of these have been super helpful in helping me understand myself better and deal with daily problems. However, I feel like I return to the same cycle. I've come to realize that I carry with me a lot more shame and guilt than I expected.
T This cycle involved making some changes at the start, slowly falling off, and being disappointed that I fell off. It was almost like I knew this was going to happen, and I would repeat the process, saying, "This will be the time I actually change."
For context, I have a condition called auditory processing disorder, a hearing condition that can take on many forms. My issue at a young age was confusing sounds from each other. For example, my brain thought the letters R and L sounded identical. This led to me not being able to speak/utter a pronounceable word until I was 5, and I had to go to hearing therapy for nine years to learn how to speak correctly. I have a speech inducement now, but for the most part, I sound standard except for sometimes messing up. Either way, this has always made me feel self-conscious and inferior to others, especially when they would laugh or make fun of how I spoke. I've gotten over it for the most part, but it still annoys me. Hence, I carry a lot of shame with me.
I felt like my shame had only evolved more throughout the years with my body, my sexuality, my social standing, my habits, etc. For a while, I was a self-improvement junkie wanting to constantly be better for others, even if it meant sacrificing things I liked or was interested in for other people. For my body, it meant skipping meals so that my six-pack could be available; my sexuality meant not being curvy or big girls from fear of what others might think of me.
I have a hard time accepting myself for who I am, and pretty much every time I've tried to change my life has been out of shame. Very rarely has it been out of self-love or care, and it feels gratifying and right when I do make a change on that front. However, when it comes to things I would like to change, like my porn use, time management, and overcoming fears, I feel like that desire for change stems from shame. I don't know how to stop the cycles from repeating and how to build self-compassion/love properly. I would appreciate any advice or personal stories anyone has.

Hello, I'm a 23-year-old male in his 4th year of college and will soon graduate in the next three months. I'm writing this entry because my life for the past four years has been that of repeated cycles and familiar shame. On the outside, people see me as a pretty social guy who is active and has it all together. But on the inside, I feel like a mess.
I often experience periods in which I go through the same cycles. In these past years, however, I've picked up on more journaling, meditation, psychedelics, camping, and even have had therapy for short periods. All of these have been super helpful in helping me understand myself better and deal with daily problems. However, I feel like I return to the same cycle. I've come to realize that I carry with me a lot more shame and guilt than I expected.
T This cycle involved making some changes at the start, slowly falling off, and being disappointed that I fell off. It was almost like I knew this was going to happen, and I would repeat the process, saying, "This will be the time I actually change."
For context, I have a condition called auditory processing disorder, a hearing condition that can take on many forms. My issue at a young age was confusing sounds from each other. For example, my brain thought the letters R and L sounded identical. This led to me not being able to speak/utter a pronounceable word until I was 5, and I had to go to hearing therapy for nine years to learn how to speak correctly. I have a speech inducement now, but for the most part, I sound standard except for sometimes messing up. Either way, this has always made me feel self-conscious and inferior to others, especially when they would laugh or make fun of how I spoke. I've gotten over it for the most part, but it still annoys me. Hence, I carry a lot of shame with me.
I felt like my shame had only evolved more throughout the years with my body, my sexuality, my social standing, my habits, etc. For a while, I was a self-improvement junkie wanting to constantly be better for others, even if it meant sacrificing things I liked or was interested in for other people. For my body, it meant skipping meals so that my six-pack could be available; my sexuality meant not being curvy or big girls from fear of what others might think of me.
I have a hard time accepting myself for who I am, and pretty much every time I've tried to change my life has been out of shame. Very rarely has it been out of self-love or care, and it feels gratifying and right when I do make a change on that front. However, when it comes to things I would like to change, like my porn use, time management, and overcoming fears, I feel like that desire for change stems from shame. I don't know how to stop the cycles from repeating and how to build self-compassion/love properly. I would appreciate any advice or personal stories anyone has.

Hello, I'm a 23-year-old male in his 4th year of college and will soon graduate in the next three months. I'm writing this entry because my life for the past four years has been that of repeated cycles and familiar shame. On the outside, people see me as a pretty social guy who is active and has it all together. But on the inside, I feel like a mess.
I often experience periods in which I go through the same cycles. In these past years, however, I've picked up on more journaling, meditation, psychedelics, camping, and even have had therapy for short periods. All of these have been super helpful in helping me understand myself better and deal with daily problems. However, I feel like I return to the same cycle. I've come to realize that I carry with me a lot more shame and guilt than I expected.
T This cycle involved making some changes at the start, slowly falling off, and being disappointed that I fell off. It was almost like I knew this was going to happen, and I would repeat the process, saying, "This will be the time I actually change."
For context, I have a condition called auditory processing disorder, a hearing condition that can take on many forms. My issue at a young age was confusing sounds from each other. For example, my brain thought the letters R and L sounded identical. This led to me not being able to speak/utter a pronounceable word until I was 5, and I had to go to hearing therapy for nine years to learn how to speak correctly. I have a speech inducement now, but for the most part, I sound standard except for sometimes messing up. Either way, this has always made me feel self-conscious and inferior to others, especially when they would laugh or make fun of how I spoke. I've gotten over it for the most part, but it still annoys me. Hence, I carry a lot of shame with me.
I felt like my shame had only evolved more throughout the years with my body, my sexuality, my social standing, my habits, etc. For a while, I was a self-improvement junkie wanting to constantly be better for others, even if it meant sacrificing things I liked or was interested in for other people. For my body, it meant skipping meals so that my six-pack could be available; my sexuality meant not being curvy or big girls from fear of what others might think of me.
I have a hard time accepting myself for who I am, and pretty much every time I've tried to change my life has been out of shame. Very rarely has it been out of self-love or care, and it feels gratifying and right when I do make a change on that front. However, when it comes to things I would like to change, like my porn use, time management, and overcoming fears, I feel like that desire for change stems from shame. I don't know how to stop the cycles from repeating and how to build self-compassion/love properly. I would appreciate any advice or personal stories anyone has.