Acls written exam answers

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Here is a quick compilation of recent Hinge changes and issues.
Top Photo
Hinge is rolling out the Top Photo feature to various locations. Note that if the Top Photo option is available for you, it is toggled on by default. You won't notice the photos shuffling when you view your own profile in the edit section. When you see the same people's profile on discover shuffling their photos constantly, it's because of Top Photo
Hinge however does not state whether or not Top Photo also applies to profiles on your Likes and Match lists. As far as I can tell, Top Photo does not apply to profiles on those lists.
Written Prompts character limit bug
There is a bug where you can't write anymore words in the written prompts without hitting the character limit. The simple work around is to write your prompts in a notes app on your phone, then copy and paste it onto Hinge. If you notice whatever you wrote is cut off by Hinge, it means your written prompt is too long and hit the character limit.
"Nearby" option removed from discover
On the latest UI update, Hinge removed the "Nearby" filter option (as well as the "Compatible" option), with only "Active today" and "New here" available. "Compatible" is now the default option when nothing is chosen. Note, this is only applicable to people with Hinge+ or X.
Hinge Support confirmed that the "Nearby" option was removed on purpose as they are testing this new UI. The important word here is that this is a supposedly a test, so there could be a possibility that Hinge could reverse the change. Hinge wants people to instead have quicker access to preferences in order to filter profiles better. (The three options given are Age, Height, and Dating Intentions.) If you want to see profiles closer to you, Hinge says to manually update the distance preference.
If you liked the "Nearby" option and don't like the fact Hinge removed this option, I suggest filing a support ticket and give them this feedback.
Hidden Words
Hinge added the Hidden Words feature back in April. It seems however, on social media many many people are misinformed as to how this feature actually works.
Hidden Words does not filter out profiles on discover or likes without comments. All it does is filter out specific words if someone sends a comment with their like/rose that contain those words. For example: if you added "pineapple on pizza", it won't filter out any profiles with those words included. Only if someone sent a like that included the comment 'pineapple on pizza" will the Hidden Words filter block that profile from showing up on your Likes list and notifications and instead will move it onto the Hidden Likes list.
So don't bother adding all the cliches you hate seeing on Hinge since it won't do anything to prevent you from seeing them unless they happen to send a comment including those specific phrases. You may instead inadvertently block a well meaning profile who happened to said the wrong words in their comments.
Relationship Type filter
Don't forget that there's a Relationship Type filter now available for most users, and more importantly it is a FREE filter. If you don't want any non-monogamy/poly/ENM people, or only want to seek those types, you can filter them now.
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After the contestants had already written their answers and time was out, he'd mention some little detail that could help the viewer at home right before going over what each person wrote down. Just a little thing I liked.

Hi im from india my exam starts and ends before some of you guys if you guys want the answer let me know ill memorize them for yall and send it all to u guys for 85 doll** but LET ME KNOW before the exam cuz if no one wants it i dont have to memorize all that physics structure component 21

It's been forever since I sat through an exam, but I recently had to take one and oh, it was tough. I couldn't focus because everyone around me kept moving which threw me off, even when I knew the answers I got distracted by them. I'd start a question then someone moving would mess me up, and I'd forget where I was.
No matter how hard I tried to concentrate I just kept losing focus and wasting time. Now I've got another exam coming up and I'm scared it'll happen again. Just so you know I'm on meds and I take Concerta.
If you've experienced the same problem, what has helped you maintain focus, and what methods have you used?
-Thank you for suggesting special accommodations! I hate to say it but they don't provide much support for people with ADHD here.

I've been working for months to try to unravel the complicated history of my ancestry, but I was wondering if anyone could point me in a better direction.
From what I've found so far, it looks like my great-grandfather was born in a Rusyn village that's in present-day Ukraine. From what I can tell, everything about him seems to line up that of Rusyn people: he was a coal miner, his last name is a Hungarian-ized (later American-ized) version of a Rusyn last name, he was Greek Orthodox, he settled in PA, etc.
But... my great-grandmother is a whole different story. The area she was born in changes on literally every document I've been able to find, and since the majority of my grandmother's siblings have passed away and my grandmother wasn't raised with her parents for very long, I'm having a really hard time putting the pieces together. I know boarders changed constantly in Europe due to the wars, but how do I begin to unravel that? Her maiden name is Polish but she was allegedly born in Czechoslovakia (some docs say Krompachy, some "Kossive," some say she was born in Austria, some say "Slovakland," and some say Dubrava without a country name). But her sister wrote that she was born in "Brgesko, Czechoslovakia" which isn't a place from what I can tell-- the only thing that comes up is Brzesko, Poland. This is, notably, the one that seems to be the most accurate however, since "Kossive" and Krompachy came out of no where.
Additionally, if she was in fact Polish, why wouldn't she just write that on the census documents? Her ethnicity was written as Slovak, Hungarian, and "Slavish" and she wrote her native language as "Slavish" many times, but that doesn't make sense to me. If she was from Poland, why wouldn't she just write Polish? And if she wasn't Polish and she was Slovak, why wouldn't she just write that instead of "Slavish?" I think it's possible she might've been Rusyn as well, so that may explain the "Slavish" thing, but it's extremely difficult to discern that because I literally cannot figure out where she was actually born.
So, I guess my question is, how do I untangle this? What is the most straight-forward way (short of a DNA test 'cause I don't have the money nor the trust in these companies to do that) of being as certain as I can about their ethnicities? I want to be able to talk about where my family came from-- especially since this is important to my grandmother and I want to be able to give her an answer-- but I don't want to claim to be something I'm not.
And as an aside, I'm aware that a lot of these areas were part of the Empire and switched hands between Austria and Hungary often, but my main issue is trying to figure out where my great-grandma was actually born because there's so many inconsistencies there that I don't even know where to start. Additionally, I have tried to look into my great-grandmother's parents since she came to the US with them, but it's just brick wall after brick wall and people who've been doing this for a lot longer than I have can't breakthrough it.

I just got fired from a major corporation. I’ve been a pharmacy technician since October 2021. I’m near Charlotte, NC. USA
I can fill in more details as needed. I feel like so much has happened during my time with this company, I’m not even really sure which parts of the story are relevant.
But to start, I was at a store that didn’t have a store manager for 6 months and I was having issues getting hours, support, literally any paperwork being done because my pharmacy manager (pharmacist in charge, RXM) did not like me. We were understaffed, there was a ton of drama. I had spoken to the district manager (DM) about my issues several times and finally after a technician lashed out and threw some filling totes and some bagged prescriptions at me and another technician, I called him after work and told him I no longer felt safe and wouldn’t be returning to work until he handled the situation.
I help out at other stores all the time and one of the stores I help out offered me to transfer. Additionally, right after I left pretty much everyone quit, I was not the only person with issues at that store. After that situation, since I was already starting the process of transferring, instead of waiting two more weeks I immediately went to the new store. During this time I had started the process for ADA accommodations through HR and with my doctor.
The week I started at the new store, I sat down with the pharmacy tech manager (RXOM) and the store manager (SM). This probably should have been my first red flag, but the SM basically asked something along the lines of why he should let me transfer because it sounds like I had a lot of problems at the old store. So upon starting at this specific store, I disclosed issues I have socially due to my disability and stated that I needed clear communication because I do not pick up on hints or subtleties and that I needed clear feedback when I have made a mistake or in a situation where I upset someone. I also disclosed that I would need additional assistance in tense situations with customers and coworkers. I explained there was a lot of drama and pettiness at my old pharmacy and that I inadvertently caused a lot of issues because I was oblivious to it. The SM basically decided that it didn’t sound like an issue to be clear and concise and kind of guide me through situations that come up. He assured me I could talk to him anytime. I was repeatedly ignored when I requested aid in those situations. And then if the outcome was less than satisfactory, I was punished. The tech manager became my support needs liaison, but the store and assistant manager refused to accommodate me. The tech manager actually got a lot of crap for trying to help me. I have a disability that can affect the way I am perceived by other people and speaking to people about it usually helps clear up any problems. I was not given an opportunity to do this. I thought I was protecting myself my disclosing my needs and weaknesses.
So at this store a few things happened with different people all at once and the store became short staffed. I started helping out a lot, staying late when I could, picking up shifts even though I had to find extra childcare. The pharmacy manager quit a few weeks after I got there, a few technicians quit or drastically reduced their hours, a couple people went on leave. So the ESM (assistant store manager) started helping out in the pharmacy more, mostly with filling prescriptions. I was warned before she started helping out that she was really prickly and if I had any issues that I could talk to the RXOM. There were a few things that came up and he told me that I wasn’t misconstruing things, to just ignore her.
And then came a day where we had a ton of call outs, my RXOM wasn’t in that day and the SM had left. It was Christmas eve weekend. So the pharmacy was gonna be closed the next day. So we were extremely short staffed, extremely busy and the phones were insane. The ESM started out the day basically complaining to us about how nothing was done, it was a mess, etc etc. I wouldn’t even call it passive aggressive. She was outright threatening and saying she would definitely be telling the RXM and SM about how incompetent we were, how out of hand everything was.
There was an incident with a customer, he was yelling at me because I went to lunch before helping him and instead of letting me handle it, the ESM jumped in without really even getting a handle on what was happening. I got written up for the way I spoke to the patient and how I handled the situation with the ESM because I had stepped over to the floater pharmacist and when asked I explained the situation. She told the story as me mumbling under my breath and complaining and carrying on. The rest of the day was pretty much the same, her carrying on about how useless we were and at one point she said it was a mess and that we (the techs) would be staying after to clean it up. I was slightly irritated that she told me I had to rather than asking, especially because the mess was from the days previous, from other techs, etc. It just had been a hectic few days, with short staff. I knew how she was though so I just decided I would stay. Right before we closed, she told me she wanted to speak to me. I had assumed she was going to give us a game plan for how to clean up quickly so we could go. I went over to her after we closed and she started to tear into me for disrespecting her and then noticed I wasn’t making eye contact. It had been a long day and I was feeling really overwhelmed. She made a big deal about it and I told her I couldn’t make eye contact with her because I have a disability but assured her I was listening to her. She went back and forth with me a few times basically trying to force me to look her in the eyes or I was disrespecting her. She ended up saying that she couldn’t speak to me if I wasn’t going to look her in the eyes when she spoke to me. I took this as a dismissal, so part of my write up was for insubordination because I left and refused to have a conversation with her. I reported the incident to HR, briefly spoke with them and thought that was the end of it.
Well shortly after, she started being extremely short with me, very dramatically avoidant like when I walked in the pharmacy would say things like “that’s my cue to leave”. If she asked for help out loud, if I tried to help her she would tell me she didn’t want my help and she would get someone else. I tried not to let it bother me but it definitely stressed me out over time. The few times I did help her, she would throw whatever she was working on down and storm from the pharmacy muttering that she would tell SM about whatever, usually swearing. I asked the other managers what I was doing wrong and was never given any answers. Or guidance. I brought it up a few times and was always brushed off. That never really ended.
An important detail is that the schedule was consistently put out on Wednesdays, usually evenings and our week started on Thursdays. Our weeks run Thursdays-Wednesdays.
There were a few other small issues, I had talked to the managers about issues with scheduling and basically just got constantly brushed off. I had agreed to a general schedule of opens and mids and every other Sunday when I transferred and they weren’t able to accommodate it anymore, they started scheduling me all over the place, closes, several weekends in a row. This made childcare difficult especially with short notice because daycare has set hours. When I got my first warning about tardiness, I brought this up and was accused of blaming everyone else for my tardiness and told to have some accountability.
By this point, I dreaded going to work when the SM or ESM was there. I would get so anxious, I would be physically sick, throwing up, gastro issues, migraines. I was constantly in a state of overstimulation. Again, I asked for help and got blown off.
So in February there was an incident that led up to me requesting short term leave. My son had a minor medical issue that I took him to the doctor for, she made an appointment for the following Thursday at an eye doctor at 8:15am. I told my RXOM I couldn’t work Thursday, he ended up scheduling me to close. 12-9. I called out around 9am after getting to my son’s appointment and learning he had to do some tests for underlying issues including being dilated. He’s 3 so I needed to be with him because he was really disoriented. We finished around 4pm and my RXOM had texted me several times for updates telling me other people called out and they really needed me. I told him that my son needed me and he basically begged me to come in for a few hours to close. I finally relented and got there around 5-6 and stayed until close. No one said anything to me, so I didn’t think anything of it. A few weeks go by and on February 19, I was called into the office for a meeting with the SM and RXOM and received a write up for being 5 hours late that day. If I would have just left it as a call out, there would be no disciplinary action because I had not used any yet for the year. This was incredibly frustrating and the way it was presented was really overwhelming. I told them I was getting overwhelmed and would like to step out, the SM continued to talk down to me. I was getting increasingly agitated, my stims were getting faster and I started to rock back and forth, beginning to have an autistic meltdown. The SM told me I needed to calm down, tried to get me to speak to him while I was shutting down and just kept scolding me, I honestly don’t even know what he was saying by this point. I told the RXOM I needed to step out and I walked out of the office next door to the break room to turn on the sink and I just completely shut down, I crawled under the counter in the break room and had a complete shutdown/meltdown. My muscles locked up, I was crying and rocking back and forth and covering my ears and had my arms over my eyes, all stimulation was bothering me. The RXOM came to check on me and saw me having a meltdown and that I was unable to communicate so he pulled my file and called my emergency contact and basically just told him I was melting down and I was under the sink and needed to be picked up.
My partner came to get me, we left my car, I went home and calmed down and then called my company’s HR and put a request in for short term medical leave. My doctor had been urging me to do this for over 6 months. I texted my RXOM and SM asking what I should do next and heard nothing so I reported to work on 2/20. Upon arriving, the guest pharmacist notified me we had a call out. After everyone arrived, I asked who the call out was and the ESM, pharmacist and other techs didn’t know. The SM was not there. The RXOM wasn’t answering my texts. An hour into my shift, the RXOM told me that they were told my leave was approved and I wouldn’t be there. I asked what to do and got nothing in response.
During my lunch break on 2/20/24, I received a call on my personal phone from HR outlining my short term leave and giving me instruction on paperwork. They verified leave was supposed to start 2/19 and I explained no one answered me so I reported to work. She told me she would have to change my leave to go into effect starting 2/21.
Fast forward, my leave ends 5/8/24, and I had not heard anything beyond communication with HR about it ending. I text my RXM and tell him I am returning to work and ask what my next steps are. He replies late evening and tells me to reach out to SM and I tell him I will in the morning. The next morning, I receive a text with my name written in and highlighted, I’m not scheduled for the first few days (Thursday-Sunday) and I’m scheduled Monday-Wednesday. So I go in for my scheduled shift on 5/13/24. During my leave, my RXOM and a bunch of technicians quit. We gained a full time staff pharmacist and a couple technicians. I get there at 10:00 and I work until 12:00 (so for two hours) and I’m called into the office with the SM and RXM and told the SM told me that I received a final written warning for insubordination and tardiness so they decided to terminate my employment due to my continued insubordination and job abandonment and because a member of management complained about my attitude. He went on to say that he contacted HR and reported that I had an “episode” and walked away from him when he was trying to communicate with me and resolve a conflict which was the insubordination and then after my “episode” I went home instead of finishing my shift. Despite putting my leave in the day it happened, because the date of leave was changed, the day I left early wasn’t covered under FMLA.
So far, I have submitted a request to the EEOC, but their first available appointment was 11/4/24. I was not in a state to call lawyers today, but I filled out a couple online forms for Employment Discrimination lawyers that had online contact forms. Immediately after being terminated, I went to my car and logged into the employee portal and downloaded all of my available paystubs and the documented disciplinary action sheets. There wasn’t one for termination, I asked my SM how I would obtain that information and he told me to contact HR. I have some screenshots from text message communication mostly asking the RXOM for help with conflicts, but the SM would really only talk to me in the office.
I’m looking for advice on what to do next. I am feeling pretty overwhelmed. Obviously, I am going to work on my resume and start applying to jobs, but beyond that I’m not really sure what to do next. Any advice is appreciated. Even if it’s to tell me that I’m in the wrong. If you read my novel, thank you. <3
TLDR; I have autism and I was bullied into having a meltdown and then fired after returning from short term medical leave for going home early. I feel like they were looking for reasons to fire me as retaliation for reporting the ESM to HR.

Throwaway for above reason.
A few months ago, I took a new job with a new retail store opening in my area and was hired on as a third key. Everything started out ok when the schedule was 8-4 M-F, however, after the store actually opened and the schedule changed to opening/closing and weekend shifts - all of a sudden there was an issue with the assistant manager wanting to close.
For background information, I am a single, mid-20s single woman without children. The assistant manager came to me one afternoon asking to switch her one closing shift the upcoming week with my opening shift that day because closing shifts “make her tired” and she also referenced the fact that she is a mother, and that she needs to “get home to get kid, otherwise her husband has to take off work.”
I refused to switch shifts with her and honestly made up a reason as to why I couldn’t, even though I shouldn’t have felt like I needed to. I then went and reported this to the store manager, because she also disclosed to me that she claimed that she was told in her interview she would “never have to take a closing shift.” I presented this to the store manager and basically told him he needed to handle it, because I felt uncomfortable to have someone in a supervisor position come to me and ask me in a pressuring way to switch shifts.
The store manager was perfectly understandable of this, and he did speak to the assistant manager about it. However, she quickly figured out who spoke to him about it as I was the only one she had asked to switch shifts with. This then started some pretty extreme retaliation.
Despite being told not to talk to me one on one, the next day after being spoken to by the store manager, the assistant manager approached me and asked to speak privately in the office, without a witness. She approached me somewhat aggressively, and I had an uncomfortable feeling about this conversation. I agreed to talk to her there, however, on the way, I began recording the conversation on my phone. I live in a one-party recording state.
During this conversation, the assistant manager started the conversation by asking multiple times if “we can just keep this conversation a total secret, just between you and me” and then violated open door policy by telling me that I was incorrect to go to the store manager, that she “didn’t mean anything by asking to switch shifts” and if I was uncomfortable, I should have come and talked to her instead of going to my direct supervisor (the store manager). During the course of the conversation, I counted over 4 times that she said “next time don’t talk to SM name, just come talk to me” and told me I should be understanding to the fact that “she’s a mother” and why she wouldn’t want to close. It was a very uncomfortable and unprofessional conversation overall.
I of course reported this almost immediately to the store manager and showed him the recording. He agreed this was fully out of line and spoke to the assistant manager again asking why she approached me when specifically told not to. Not knowing the conversation was recorded, the assistant manager proceeded to lie and say she just “wanted to smooth things over” and made up a completely different narrative that what actually happened. She outright denied ever telling me I could not report anything to the store manager.
After this is when the retaliation started to come out in full swing. One of my job responsibilities is to visually merchandise the store. The next day when I came in for my shift, the assistant manager was tearing down and completely resetting a floor set I had just done the day prior. I asked very plainly “what are you doing?” And she immediately told me “I am not going to deal with your attitude today and I will send you home right now.” This was 20 minutes after I arrived for an 8 hour shift.
I walked away and went to the back office and interrupted the store manager who was in a district zoom meeting at the time and let him know the assistant manager was threatening to send me home. He left the meeting and then proceeded to “mediate” on the sales floor the rest of the day, as the assistant manager did not act out of pocket when under the direct supervision of the store manager.
Another notable incident was an act of attempted physical violence before the assistant manager was fired. I was in the back stock room with the inventory manager when the assistant manager, who was pushing a large rack on wheels of very heavy merchandise (I can’t be too specific as to what the merchandise was as I’m scared it may give away where I work, but this rack would have weighed 350+ lbs easily) burst through the back stock room swinging doors without warning into my direct path. I jumped out of the way with mere seconds to spare or I would have been run over and definitely injured at the speed she was going and yelled out “excuse me!” To try and illicit a response, just in case she did not see me there.
I got no response. No apology, no excuse me, just dead pan silence as she then stared at me as she went by. It felt VERY intentional. She even dropped off the merchandise at the back of the room, turned around and walked out without ever saying a word to me. The inventory manager even rushed over to me and asked if I was alright because she could see how aggressive it was.
The next incident involved the assistant manager threatening insubordination against me, and this is when I felt like she was using language to try and write me up for something. Over the weekend, the store manager (and NOT the assistant manager) completed a new visual set as directed by corporate. Since I was not present for it, I have been previously instructed by the store manager that if I feel there is a better option to fit the set to the corporate visual standard, I have the full power to make those changes behind him. This is because he prefers to set the floor set from the beginning himself and then let me go behind and tweak his work to “make it perfect.”
Since I was previously instructed to do this, when I came into work after the set had been changed, I then proceeded to “tweak” it. My honest contributions were changing the pants on one mannequin, swapping a necklace on another mannequin, and setting a hat shelf for a group of hats that were not set on the floor at all. While setting the hats, I was told that I immediately needed to stop what I was doing because “this floor set has already been set, so you changing it right now is insubordination.” I am smart enough to recognize when she adopted new vocabulary often seen in write ups that she was probably working on one. It was at this point I finally decided enough was enough, and I called HR.
The HR rep was very understanding and listened to my complaints. I do realize HR is there to protect the company more than anything, but with the hostile work environment she was creating I felt like she was a big liability to have on their hands. I complained about hostile work environment, retaliation, harassment, and discrimination because I was made to feel as if I should close because I’m childless. She told me she would investigate my claims and then report back.
To make a long story short, my suspicions were correct and the assistant manager has created an entire write up for my “attitude”that conveniently started the day after I told the store manager about the “private” conversation she had with me in the managers office. It took about a week from when I reported it, but HR did fire her for retaliation. I did not find out about the write up she had written until after she was fired.
There were a couple incidents in the week when HR was investigating her like her calling the district manager because I took our register money to the bank to get change as instructed by the store manager. She skipped calling the store manager entirely and just went straight to the district manager and attempted to make it seem as if I was stealing. The other incident involved her yelling in my face loudly at the register in front of multiple customers and calling me a liar because I corrected her on a work policy.
Once she was fired, she immediately started calling my personal cell phone multiple times. I did not answer. She then sent me a string of multiple threatening texts messages and also tried to say that my recording of our conversation was illegal (again, we live in a one-party recording state). She had a printed out copy of the law and I think is honestly dense enough to not understand that I am the one party to the recorded conversation, therefore making the recording not illegal. I told her to never text me again, and she then proceeded to get violent and threaten to fight me if I ever saw her again and call me multiple curse words. I decided to block her number, hoping that she’d move on.
The HR rep called to tell me they had “closed their investigation” and I’d be notified of the findings on my next shift, however I told the rep that I knew she was fired because she was calling me and sending me threatening text messages. IMO, the rep started to act indifferent and told me to “report it to my local authorities if I felt uncomfortable”
Now, over the past two weeks there has been an anonymous number calling the store asking to speak with me. I have yet to pick up one of these calls, however one of my coworkers did tell the person the first time that I was there. They asked to speak with me, and then when put on hold they immediately hung up. I was nervous she may try to show up, but nothing happened that I know of that night. I chalked it up to maybe it was just an actual customer.
However, today an anonymous number called again asking to speak with someone with my first name. We have two people who work there with my first name, so when my coworker asked “which one?” The anonymous caller immediately said my last name and described my physical features to a T. My coworker told the caller I wasn’t working that day, and they asked when I would return. She told them she doesn’t know the schedule so she can’t say, and then the caller hung up.
I have NEVER shared my last name with a customer, EVER and anyone who knows me well enough to know that information would just call my cell phone and definitely not from a blocked number. I have a strong suspicion this is her, although I’m extremely nervous as to why she would keep calling after it’s been weeks since she’s been fired.
What can I do to protect myself? Am I entitled to protection from my employer given the circumstances around her termination? Does this qualify for some kind of protective order? I genuinely do not feel safe going to work right now. I do not feel like I’ve been protected enough. I understand times are hard and the job market is tough, but she put herself in a position to be fired. The state of the economy makes me nervous that she may feel as if she doesn’t have anything to lose now.
TLDR: my assistant manager was fired for retaliation against me and is now threatening me and has physically harassed me in the past and is probably calling under a blocked number to get my work schedule.

Throwaway account because the subject matter is cringe and id rather not get bullied on my main, thanks.
TLDR: My boyfriend thinks the romantic codywan RP I'm doing with a friend is emotionally cheating and wants me to stop RPing and to stop engaging with the fandom. AITAH?
I (f27) am in an argument with my bf (m29) of two months concerning a text based roleplay I'm doing with a friend.
I'm a cringey fandom roleplayer. Fandom and RP have been an enormous part of my life since I was 13. It is my most beloved hobby, two of my best friends in the whole world, I meant through RP. Roleplaying is basically like creating fanfiction with another person. You each play a character, you write a couple of paragraphs, then the other person responds. It's a game. It's fiction. The things my character says or does are oftentimes not things that I would say or do or endorse, because I'm playing as a character. The relationship I have with my RP partner is not the same as the relationships our characters might have with each other. We DO NOT bring our real lives into the RP. I promise, this is relevant so keep it in mind.
I know it's not everybody's cup of tea, I know a lot of people see it as childish and cringey, and I'm okay with that. It was something that I was deeply ashamed of and was bullied for for a long time, but I've come to accept that it's something I don't have to be ashamed of, but it's still a sensitive topic for me and something I really don't like to disclose. Growing up, I felt a lot of pressure to keep this hobby a secret, or to abandon it entirely because people who found out about it were mean about it. When I was 17, one of my closest friends emailed large potions of my "Mermaid Destiel mpreg RP" around the school. So, I'm sure you can imagine why I'm having such a hard time looking at this situation rationally. It's all caught up in my feels.
In 2019, I started doing Codywan (Obi-Wan x Commander Cody, if you're a casual Star Wars fan and know nothing about the fandom, I am so sorry.) rp with a friend, and we're still doing that RP to this very day. She is one of my closest friends. We have written thousands of pages together. The RP is most definitely romantic, but it isn't smutty. We tried writing porn a couple of times years ago, but it never went anywhere because I didn't enjoy it. The old threads have long since been deleted.
My boyfriend absolutely hate the RP. I have never, ever tried to hide it from him. I told him about it when we first started dating, before we were official, because he asked what my hobbies are. He's a Star Wars fan, not really into the fandom thing, and we had a good laugh about it. Sure, he's made a couple of snide remarks about how cringy it is, but I'm not going to pitch a fit about that because, yeah, it is cringy. I'm self-aware enough to know that. But yeah, it's never been a secret. He's never been very interested in it, and that's fine by me. Every once in a while he'll ask me questions, and I'll answer them. I guess that's why I feel so blindsided about this whole thing.
Recently, he asked to read a couple, just out of curiosity, and I let him, and he was fucking furious! The section he was reading was romantic, describing the characters holding hands and kissing because they were on a date. He accused me of emotionally cheating on him with my RP partner. I think that's ridiculous. Like I said, the role play is fiction. I have never felt romantic feelings for my RP partner, we've never kissed, we've never even met in person. Yes, we chat about all kinds of things outside of the RP because we're friends. Outside of the rp, we do not flirt. We do not talk about our sex lives. I have never come ever said anything bad to her about my boyfriend. I've never hidden the fact that I have a boyfriend from her. I do not see her out as my primary source of comfort. We talk about fandom, other hobbies, life, things like that.
I just feel so fucking confused. I pulled up our "out of character" thread and begged him to read it because I felt like that would prove my innocence, but he absolutely refused because he "already saw everything he needed to know". I asked him if married actors are cheating on their spouses when they have to kiss other people in movies, and he said that wasn't the same. I asked him if it was cheating for an author to write about a romantic relationship, he said that it wasn't the same because authors work alone. I asked him "what about people who co-author books together?" I mean, christ, were Terry Pratchett and Neil diamond having an affair without each other when they wrote Good omens? That's fucking ridiculous. But he got absolutely furious and told me to "shut up and stop trying to defend myself!" He told me I ruined Star Wars by doing this to him, and he wanted me to delete discord and Tumblr. I told him absolutely not, I hadn't done anything wrong. It still makes me so fucking mad because he was talking down to me like I was a fucking child, and my punishment for disobeying him was taking away my social media.
He was mad at me and gave me the cold shoulder for a couple of days, but yesterday, he sat me down because he wanted to have a talk with me. He apologized for freaking out at me, he said that his behavior was irrational and unacceptable, and he did agree that he had no right to try to force me to delete discord and Tumblr. You told me that the role play made him really uncomfortable, and that he felt I had betrayed him by hiding this from him, which is absolute bullshit and I called him out on that, because I hid nothing from him. He tried to tell me that I never told him it was a romantic RP, and I told him that he knew from the start that it was a ship RP, what did he expect? Then he said he doesn't mind if I kept RPing, but he doesn't want me engaging with the Star Wars fandom anymore, and he wants me to block my friend. I told him that he's talking down to me again, that he is punishing me without even bothering to hear my side of things. I asked him, again, to read the OOC thread, because if he genuinely thinks our relationship is inappropriate, I need to know. The characters we play are fictional, the relationship is fictional, there's a line between fiction and reality and we do not cross it. The RP isn't going to give him an accurate representation of my relationship with my friend. If he wants to judge that relationship, he needs to look at the OOC thread. Well, when I suggested it, he blew up at me again and told me I wasn't listening to him. He told me I was being petulant, fucking petulant, and unreasonable. He hasn't spoken to me since, and he's still absolutely fuming.
Look, I'll be honest, there's no way in hell I'm staying in this relationship. I do not want to being a relationship with somebody whose first response is anger. I want somebody who respects me enough to have an adult fucking conversation with me. If he had just talked to me instead of accusing me of cheating and blowing up at me, things would be different. But he didn't and I don't do second chances, not for stuff like this.
But this is the first long-term relationship I've had since I was a teenager, so some part of me feels like maybe I misstepped. Is doing a romantic RP with someone "cheating"? Was I in the wrong? AITAH?

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

So the answer to this might be obvious, but I'm struggling because it's a delicate situation(s).
I have two residents that have daughters who are their POA and are complete nightmares. Both these people seem eager to hop on any small thing and will write paragraphs about how it's unacceptable and even blown things out of proportion and called state and installed cameras in the rooms (our IT department is coming to remove them this week as this is against our privacy policy).
Some examples include: reporting the fact that all caregivers have keys (that are turned in at the end of their shift) to the state because if someone forgot to turn it in and took it home, some random might take the key and come in and rape her mom. Same person also reported that a window (that she opened and didn't close) wasn't closed and locked because again, someone might come in and rape her mom. Same person also reported one of the painters doing our building for being on his cell phone with his boss because "he could have been taking pictures of her". Obviously, all reports came back as unfounded.
The other one had a problem with how the dermatologist had written an order for clobetasol and triamcinolone for 14 days on, 7 days off, then repeat AS NEEDED for flares and that we dared to make it PRN after her skin had remained clear. When she had a flare up, she was outraged that I'd made the order scheduled again after notifying her doctor. She also accused our maintenance director of making her raised toilet seat "unsafe" (aka fixing it so it actually fit and didn't slide around after she had first installed it, which led to her mom falling). She's threatened to call APS multiple times, but hasn't.
While these people are a massive headache to deal with, what really gets me is how the residents always feel the need to apologize for their daughters and tell us that they are happy and tell the staff and I that they appreciate us. They literally beg us not to call them or let them know if anything comes up like a fall, their blood sugar is high, or anything similar because "I don't want her to yell at me again". I've heard them yelling and talking shit about the staff, which then always turn into long winded emails laced with vitriol and aggressive tones and backhanded "thanks for taking care of this yesterday when I asked about it TWO WEEKS AGO" and the like.
We are planning to meet with each of them to discuss their concerns as this has been their standard form of communication for months now despite making multiple attempts to establish and request calm, constructive communication.
How have you guys dealt with these kinds of people before? Any success in establishing a better relationship short of telling them that they're reactionary, aggressive, and their own parents are scared of them? Lol but seriously, the amount of hours I've spent trying to placate these women is insane, and I can't continue with this, so any tips or experiences are very much appreciated!

Serpent-headed when the glamour was lifted but appearing to man as men among men. Crept they into the Councils, taking forms that were like unto men. Slaying by their arts the chiefs of the kingdoms, taking their form and ruling o'er man. Only by magic could they be discovered. Only by sound could their faces be seen. Sought they from the Kingdom of shadows to destroy man and rule in his place. But, know ye, the Masters were mighty in magic, able to lift the Veil from the face of the serpent, able to send him back to his place -Thoth, the Great Wise
Remember Venom, the parasitic alien life form that is attached to spiderman & a massive church bell isused to get rid of em? Venom was basically an Archon that the gnostics & Thoth talk about. Symbiotes are symbiotic alien life forms which feed on the emotions of their hosts, particularly negative emotions. Bells
Its been reported for ages that the plague would skip over the areas in Russia where they had larger concentrations of church bells. Many Soviet researchers determined the amazing healing properties of bells and found that the oscillation of the ultrasonic range of church bells repels bacilli, viruses, and other infectious diseases that are transmitted through the air, and even cures many other diseases. Bells Healing Study
The Apkalu who introduced the Me, brought arts/crafts, agriculture, writing, magic & music. Enki was god of music. See the golden age ancient civilizations sound, frequency & harmonics was widely understood to be the greatest method for healing the body.
To be clear, the cathedrals that you see around the world were never meant to be churches, they were centers used for healing. Cathedrals Healing Centers Everything the church had was pirated.. In sixth century, Pope Gregory, in a letter to those who were to carry Catholicism to Britain, cautioned these missionaries NOT to destroy the ancient sites. Gregory wanted them to destroy their idols, but insisted they kept the architecture as it was thereby automatically linking alignment to the ley lines and maintaining the power source. Egyptian concept of Maat(Harmony) was of the utmost importance, the reason the discipline that the church created to study Egypt has more questions than answers is because they don't understand this.
In the campaign to disconnect us from our true selves, the most detrimental action theyd take involved musical theory principles, suppression of the tritone in music was a central theme for hundreds of years. Canon laws were passed to mandate rules for how to construct scales, how to handle voice leading, what was considered consonant and dissonant, how contrary motion should be handled, what tones should and should not be emphasized in rhythm, which rhythmic patterns were acceptable and specific instructions for how music should be written. Megalithic monuments were built using acoustic HARMONIC Resonance, one will never understand Pyramid, temples, etc disregarding Harmony with nature.
History repeats itself, this 1939 Nature article wouls lead to the change by International Standards Association (ISA) from 432hz to 440hz & still today they have no true understanding of sound & its many benefits. A=440Hz tuning disassociates the connection of consciousness to the body and creates anti-social conditions in humanity. Music -Double Blind study In preliminary research, analysis, and professional discussions by Walton, Koehler, Reid, et al., on the web, A=440Hz frequency music conflicts with human energy centers (i.e., chakras) from the heart to the base of the spine. Alternatively, chakras above the heart are stimulated. Theoretically, the vibration stimulates ego and left-brain function, suppressing the "heart-mind," intuition and creative inspiration. Interestingly, the difference between 440 and 741 Hz is known in musicology as the Devil's Interval.
For maximum suppression of human consciousness, the frequencies we naturally resonate with, and which are the most biologically and psycho-spiritually enhancing, must be maximally suppressed.Ancient Egyptian and Greek instruments have reportedly been found to be tuned to 432 Hz. 432Hz is consistent with the natural resonance of the UNI-VERSE and all of NATURE, that the pitch is more HARMONIOUS and that when our atoms and DNA resonate in harmony with nature's SPIRAL pattern, our sense of connection to nature is said to be AMPLIFIED. Previously I cited the recent discoveries showing DNA being repaired by use of sound frequencies. Priests of Horus meant that they maintained the knowledge of harmony.
The great pyramid Acoustic chambers matched the harmonic chambers of the human body, the King chambesarcophagus Resonance frequency created a resounding beat frequency matching the human heartbeat. Every site had a navel which resonate at 111hz which switched from left to right brain dominance assisting with holistic processing, leading to altered state of consciousness.
Hollywood comes from the Druid magicians whod make Wands outta wood from the Holly tree to cast spells on the unsuspecting. Sounds like Op Mockingbird to me. To disconnect as much as possible the functions of these two distinct parts of the brain so we can be manipulated through the right brain while only being conscious of the left.They plant thoughts, responses, and images through the right brain (the dream-state, the non-conscious, through symbolism and subliminal imagery) while imprisoning the human conscious level in the left brain - the world of can I touch it, smell it, taste it, see it, hear it, OK it must exist. This is why the "education" system, and "science" is designed to talk to the left brain.
No architectural element of antiquity (excluding bearing elements), was just a decoration. Everything had a function. Even the vases, and doorknobs. The doorknobs would be made of copper to kill bacteria & infections. So, at the correct frequency there were regenerating concert halls, where people recharged themselves with pleasant music while buildings collected the energy of the ether. They stigmatized the ether & removed it as well. If zero-point energy machines were developed on the biological model of the caduceus coil and central ion channel then our energy generation could actually enhance human evolution rather than harming ourselves and the planet as it does now. Similarly if we construct superconducting solar architecture with a monoatomic lattice in manmade stone, then the energy emanating from this energy generator will also enhance the consciousness of life around it

Serpent-headed when the glamour was lifted but appearing to man as men among men. Crept they into the Councils, taking forms that were like unto men. Slaying by their arts the chiefs of the kingdoms, taking their form and ruling o'er man. Only by magic could they be discovered. Only by sound could their faces be seen. Sought they from the Kingdom of shadows to destroy man and rule in his place. But, know ye, the Masters were mighty in magic, able to lift the Veil from the face of the serpent, able to send him back to his place -Thoth, the Great Wise
Remember Venom, the parasitic alien life form that is attached to spiderman & a massive church bell isused to get rid of em? Venom was basically an Archon that the gnostics & Thoth talk about. Symbiotes are symbiotic alien life forms which feed on the emotions of their hosts, particularly negative emotions. Bells
Its been reported for ages that the plague would skip over the areas in Russia where they had larger concentrations of church bells. Many Soviet researchers determined the amazing healing properties of bells and found that the oscillation of the ultrasonic range of church bells repels bacilli, viruses, and other infectious diseases that are transmitted through the air, and even cures many other diseases. Bells Healing Study
The Apkalu who introduced the Me, brought arts/crafts, agriculture, writing, magic & music. Enki was god of music. See the golden age ancient civilizations sound, frequency & harmonics was widely understood to be the greatest method for healing the body.
To be clear, the cathedrals that you see around the world were never meant to be churches, they were centers used for healing. Cathedrals Healing Centers Everything the church had was pirated.. In sixth century, Pope Gregory, in a letter to those who were to carry Catholicism to Britain, cautioned these missionaries NOT to destroy the ancient sites. Gregory wanted them to destroy their idols, but insisted they kept the architecture as it was thereby automatically linking alignment to the ley lines and maintaining the power source. Egyptian concept of Maat(Harmony) was of the utmost importance, the reason the discipline that the church created to study Egypt has more questions than answers is because they don't understand this.
In the campaign to disconnect us from our true selves, the most detrimental action theyd take involved musical theory principles, suppression of the tritone in music was a central theme for hundreds of years. Canon laws were passed to mandate rules for how to construct scales, how to handle voice leading, what was considered consonant and dissonant, how contrary motion should be handled, what tones should and should not be emphasized in rhythm, which rhythmic patterns were acceptable and specific instructions for how music should be written. Megalithic monuments were built using acoustic HARMONIC Resonance, one will never understand Pyramid, temples, etc disregarding Harmony with nature.
History repeats itself, this 1939 Nature article wouls lead to the change by International Standards Association (ISA) from 432hz to 440hz & still today they have no true understanding of sound & its many benefits. A=440Hz tuning disassociates the connection of consciousness to the body and creates anti-social conditions in humanity. Music -Double Blind study In preliminary research, analysis, and professional discussions by Walton, Koehler, Reid, et al., on the web, A=440Hz frequency music conflicts with human energy centers (i.e., chakras) from the heart to the base of the spine. Alternatively, chakras above the heart are stimulated. Theoretically, the vibration stimulates ego and left-brain function, suppressing the "heart-mind," intuition and creative inspiration. Interestingly, the difference between 440 and 741 Hz is known in musicology as the Devil's Interval.
For maximum suppression of human consciousness, the frequencies we naturally resonate with, and which are the most biologically and psycho-spiritually enhancing, must be maximally suppressed.Ancient Egyptian and Greek instruments have reportedly been found to be tuned to 432 Hz. 432Hz is consistent with the natural resonance of the UNI-VERSE and all of NATURE, that the pitch is more HARMONIOUS and that when our atoms and DNA resonate in harmony with nature's SPIRAL pattern, our sense of connection to nature is said to be AMPLIFIED. Previously I cited the recent discoveries showing DNA being repaired by use of sound frequencies. Priests of Horus meant that they maintained the knowledge of harmony.
The great pyramid Acoustic chambers matched the harmonic chambers of the human body, the King chambesarcophagus Resonance frequency created a resounding beat frequency matching the human heartbeat. Every site had a navel which resonate at 111hz which switched from left to right brain dominance assisting with holistic processing, leading to altered state of consciousness.
Hollywood comes from the Druid magicians whod make Wands outta wood from the Holly tree to cast spells on the unsuspecting. Sounds like Op Mockingbird to me. To disconnect as much as possible the functions of these two distinct parts of the brain so we can be manipulated through the right brain while only being conscious of the left.They plant thoughts, responses, and images through the right brain (the dream-state, the non-conscious, through symbolism and subliminal imagery) while imprisoning the human conscious level in the left brain - the world of can I touch it, smell it, taste it, see it, hear it, OK it must exist. This is why the "education" system, and "science" is designed to talk to the left brain.
No architectural element of antiquity (excluding bearing elements), was just a decoration. Everything had a function. Even the vases, and doorknobs. The doorknobs would be made of copper to kill bacteria & infections. So, at the correct frequency there were regenerating concert halls, where people recharged themselves with pleasant music while buildings collected the energy of the ether. They stigmatized the ether & removed it as well. If zero-point energy machines were developed on the biological model of the caduceus coil and central ion channel then our energy generation could actually enhance human evolution rather than harming ourselves and the planet as it does now. Similarly if we construct superconducting solar architecture with a monoatomic lattice in manmade stone, then the energy emanating from this energy generator will also enhance the consciousness of life around it

I BARELY passed my network+ exam today. Idk why but it took me a long time to grasp the concepts of networking and took me longer then most people to study for the test. Been studying on and off since November of last year but have been busy starting my new IT field tech job.
Watched professor Messer and used Jason Dion's practice tests. The PBQs had me sweating. During the test the resolution of the test changed and I was unable to do the drag and drop. Had to be moved to another computer to finish the test.
Subnetting was very important on my version of the test. Had Messer's 7 second subnetting chart written out on my laminated paper.
PBQs had me like a deer in headlights. All I can do was type help in the command prompt and try to fumble my way through the questions.
Good Luck everyone!

And I doubt she'll trust them anyways.
Bit of context: I'm non binary (25yo) and come out to most of my family, no one uses my new name and correct pronouns because it would be a mess with my dad and grandma (and I'm the one that choose not to change things for now) but there are some people that would switch to what I want in a heartbeat if I asked them, and that is enough for me to know I can trust them with my gender, and I feel validated by other things they told me. Other relatives don't understand it and I doubt will ever call me anything different than my birth name, but I understand I can't have everything and that's ok. My mum tho... She's a whole other story. Also, I'm italian, so I hope everything makes sense.
I've been in lists for bloodwork and other exams and psychology assesments (like dysphoria diagnosis) in order to see the endocrinologist and get HRT, my mother knows I'm non binary and I told her and tried to explain to her many times (even once with my therapist, and my therapist agrees with me that it's like talking to a wall). I also told her I'm doing these HRT things and she said she would help in looking for doctors and driving me to the appointments but that I had to come up with the money for the visits myself (oh, nice, thanks mum /s).
One day, late on the evening, she calls me and tells me

I can't take you to get the bloodwork the day after tomorrow, can I cancel it and take it a bit later?

I was pretty exhausted so I said "yeah it's ok", without thinking much about it because I figured those appointments can be max in a week time waiting list, so I was fine with waiting that bit more. The next morning she calls me and had taken it A MONTH AND A WEEK LATER (she choose the date) and I was crushed, but I manged to understand my feeling, and that I wasn't ok with that at all, only in the evening. I texted her asking to move it sooner or I'd do it myself, that it was too much time and I just can't wait anymore (I was being kinda dramatic bc there are still months before other assessments, but it felt like my life depended on it). She was like

ok but don't take it soon you'll have to move it again and pay again It's not like you're paying for it anyways

Then she kept insisting to postpone and similar stuff so I asked her

do you even want to help me? Might be just my feeling, but it feels like you're always putting yourself in my way even when you're saying the contrary

She got defensive and started saying her usual stuff like that I'm not grateful and I'm so bad at keeping the house clean and she doesn't even make me feel bad about the fact that I don't work or study (this is a lie, she does) and so I asked her

Ok, so can I ask you something easy to do to show me you want to help? Can you call me by my chosen name and pronouns when we're alone?

She didn't answer and kept going on with other arguments, I reiterated but she kept avoiding the question, she instead said that

Whoever you are. If you're looking for yourself. I don't call you in any way, person.

Don't mind how weird it sounds, she speaks weird in italian too, but that "if you're looking for yourself" and the fact that she'd rather call me "person" than my chosen name was horrible, it made me understand - coupled with other stuff she said before about me "being sick and needing the right medical path" - that she's just waiting for the doctors to see if I'm sick and stop me from getting HRT... When I first talked to her about HRT she was talking about the fact that I'm fat, about a surgery I had that could stop me from it, about the fact that she has a genetic disease that might stop me from it etc... And it could have been read as worry before, as being cautious and wanting to check all the possibilities so I don't have sad surprises after I start HRT... But it never was that, not even a bit, it was just a way to control my visits and send me to the path of failure (in her eyes, ofc psychologists would know better than not giving me HRT).
It was awful, that "if you're looking for yourself" was totally unexpected to me because I never had doubts since I told my therapist and that was months ago, and I was questioning for around 3 years already, and I never make a choice without thinking and I never wagered about wanting HRT a being non binary with my mother, so it's all her own mind that made this shit up. I'm tired.
This happened a while ago but I'm still very angry at her, I'm reaching a place where I know I won't be able to forgive her and it makes me actually feel better, at least I'll feel less guilty when I'll go little to no contact.
This is a rant about other stuff that I feel it's related but not specific about gender: I'm pretty sure about the thing that she doesn't believe I'm non binary because she didn't believe I was depressed either, just like she doesn't believe I am probably autistic (my psychologist also agrees with me) and doesn't listen to me when I tell her that I'm still in depression/autistic burnout and it's fucking hard to wake up in the morning, so how the fuck could I keep a job? Luckily my country has public healthcare, it's like €20/36 every visit - even if long waiting lists- so I can probably manage with some tutoring I do to some kids (plus, luckily my aunt understans me and would pay for it). But mother is very pushy to me about the fact that I need a job, even when I told her that in order to heal from autistic burnout I literally have to NOT have responsibilities and take them back slowly or I get overwhelmed and relapse right away (I know ot, I tried). And as responsibility I mean even dumb shit like brushing my teeth, I swear to god I'd never curse anyone to feel as hopeless as I do and as useless, but she can't understand me and doesn't believe me, it's like I'm a kid all over again and whatever I say had the same importance as a riffle of wind, unremarkable and unimportant.
TLDR: My mum is an asshole and thinks I'm mentally ill and that's why I want HRT. I actually am mentally ill (depression and autistic burnout) but that's BECAUSE I haven't been formally diagnosed all my life (CPTSD, dysphoria and probably both autism and ADHD). Plus, she doesn't want to pay for my HRT visits, and that would be like € 100/180 btw.

This is my first time appearing for the exams, I have few questions, hope someone can reply to me. 1)Should I carry just 1 admit card or both? 2) The declaration in the admit card is to be signed when? 3) will the centre provide for pen and water? 4) Since my centre is 21km from my home , it's not possible to reach at 6:30 so will that be a problem 5) Will we have the time bound blocks this time too ? 6) What is the issue with "multiple options maybe correct thing which is written in the inicet manual we downloaded while downloading admit card.

( I POSTED EARLIER BUT NOT SURE I DID IT RIGHT, TRYING Again) SOOOO let me start off with, the reason I'm confused is bc it doesn't make any sense. SO A Month ago I had a Retreat RC with a tooth on top ( endo did the retreat) then I had a tooth pulled that already had a root canal/crown just last week ( last Wednesday), it was also a back top tooth#2, I have been doing salt Walter rinses amd finished my Antibiotics on Saturday. ( it was my 3rd round of Abx my 1st round Amixocillin 7 days was 2 weeks before my Retreat bc my dentist said it may have been a sinus infection bc xrays showed NO INFECTION, went to Endo he started the Retreat with a drain and put Medicine in and sealed it up put me on my (2nd Round Antibiotics ) Keflex for 7 days, then 3 weeks later went back to finish up Retreat root canal, everything went awesome, but he let me know that my back top tooth #2 which had crown/rootcanal was loose and had a crack he could see on the x ray but I had already had a bad taste coming from it which I had already told my dentist, and he said it looked fine and it was probably from the one that was being retreated which he had said that it didn't have any infection ( it was infected based on what endo said, but My Dentist informed me that Endos can see more bc of their equipment, although my Dentist done a xRay that went all away around my head and he had stated he could see everything) so I had called my Dentist to make an appointment to have crown took off to look at it, but then with rge Money adding up so quickly I said let's pull it bc Endo said by what he saw it probably needed pulled and he was correct, it was decayed pretty bad, it's been less than a week it was pulled, but before they pulled it 4 days before I was put on a (3rd round of Abx Amoxicillin 9 days, [it was for 10 days but dropped my bottle and 3 of my pills got soaked] ) went had #2 extracted so far so good, THEN THIS MORNING HAPPENS!!!! Getting to my question, so sorry.
So I brushed my teeth and I have been noticing that bottom tooth # 30 which has also had a root canal with a crown just a couple years ago by my Dentist, has been sensitive and been told that is normal and since I have had the top extraction just 5 days ago I have noticed it is sore maybe from the pressure of biting on guaze trying to get bleeding to stop from the extraction ( I was bleeding for 8 Hrs pretty heavy)I'm not sure, ANYWAY then I noticed a hard Bump that was the color of my skin it was just a Hard bump with NO white on it like a pimple, but it was hard so I called my Dentist they said to come in at 12PM only 3 hrs away, so I was in the car before going in and I pulled the side of my mouth to look at it and pulled tight and then I tasted a salty taste,, ( the pressure from pulling the skin to look at it must have popped it) didn't see anything but BUMP GOT SMALLER, as I'm walking into my Dentist, x ray was done with a visual exam , ( no tapping of teeth or cold/hot sensitivity test just visual and xRay) was glaced at for maybe 10 seconds when I showed him where a very tiny bump remained (bc my dumb butt had to look at it and mess with it before he looked at it, so it popped amd went down quickly)and he gets up takes gloves off and said no sign of infection , so I asked what it was and the taste I explained to him once again, he said IDK I see nothing, he then says maybe a Mucosa Gland but not sure bc nothing is there, I asked if he could see where it was leaking, he said no signs of infection, I remind him I was told the same when I did have infection when he sentt me to the endo. So I felt embarrassed and so stupid and felt so small bc I felt he just didn't believe me bc his tone, didn't even explain anything to me, so abt 6 hrs later it's coming back slowly, amd I called my detist office again to let them know the bump is returning amd sometimes I taste a salty taste,the office staff called me back amd said he said he could put me on anorher round of antibiotics( 4th round) just in case it is an infection or gum boil, or it may just be a mucosa cyst ( i thought cyst didnt drain?)I reminded them I had just finished a 9 day ABX ( my 3rd round) not even 48 hrs ago, then I told her I wanted to ask him questions bc I never had a " Abcess/ Gum Boil/Mucosa Cyst, but he literally was in that room with me MAYBE 1.5 MINUTES, she asked me what would I need to know, I then changed the subject amd asked what should I do going foward, Their Amswer since I'm" denying" My 4th round of Antibiotics within a month and a half was to see if it keeps coming back, maybe wait a month or so, touch base if any significant change and go from there. I asked if maybe I should go to an oral surgeon for them to glance at it. I was told no , I couldn't get a referral let's just wait and see, I explained to them if IF it's an infection I would take my 4th round of Antibiotics but he said it wasn't an infection this morning , amd I asked twice as he was walking out if he was sure it wasn't t an infection, he stated NO It isn't, then while walking down the hall I asked him one more time if he was sure it wasn't an infection he said NO, if it was am abcess it would show up on xray. He then stated real loud NOTHING NOTHING Is there and IF something Appears call us, I felt so small. But I did call, and I still have NO ANSWERS after paying $110.00 today for NOTHING!!!! I also have Crohns so being on alot of Antibiotics cam really mess me up, amd ir it's truly not an infection you don't need an Antibiotic, or so I thought. So I said and explained all that, to ask, is it possible to have a "Gum boil" without any infection? The hard Bump is not right under tooth #30, it's more over we're #29 ( but #29 is gone just empty space) so it's way down on gums Like where your inside cheeks go down and meet ur gums, I hope I'm explaining that right, anyway again it's not right up under tooth #30 I would say if #29 was there it would be under that tooth all the way down past gums where gums meets ur cheeks. ( when I'm home I may be able to get a picture to explain better) but again #30 has been sore and hurting off and on since extraction again I thought it was from me bitting down on that guaze all those hrs, I had alot of pressure on them, but before that I had explained to them that it was sensitive to sweets, amd some colds was told it was normal, so again here are my questions!!
What could it be if it isn't infection?
Should I get a 2nd opinion?
If it's an abcess , are abcess hard to leak out, does it take alot to pop am abcess? ( again there was no white pimple looking bump or any blood or pus that leaked out it was just clear n salty, amd the color of bump was the color of my gums)?
How fast do abcess fill back up if it's an infection amd would it hurt and could u see where it leaked or popped fluid from? Would it look like a sore after it pops? ( mine hasn't filled all the way up as it was this morning but i can tell it's coming back, it's slow.
Should I take another 4th round of Antibiotics without knowing it's a true infection?
I have spent $2,800 in the past Month and half, and I'm so scared I'm gonna have to lose another tooth bc I can't afford another Retreat, and I'm scared my dentist doesn't really care or maybe just doesn't know, but being told to wait it out, if it's am abcess wouldn't that be dangerous? I hope I explained amd to anyone that cares to explain anything to me abt what you think my Dentist is thinking please explain to me bc I don't even know. All I l ow to do, is wait and see what happens. And was told to try to wait atleast a month. THANKS and GOD BLESS!!!!

I came here because I didn’t have anyone else to talk to, and I wanted to get my thoughts out somewhere.
When I first heard One Thing at a Time, I was impressed by the songwriting, particularly the lyrical content of the album. But, while the song “One Thing at a Time“ seems well written at first listen, the underlying message doesn’t make sense.
On the surface, it sounds like he’s giving his girlfriend an ultimatum, and that maybe he’s more inclined to choose the drugs and the alcohol over her. But, he’s really giving her a choice that has an obvious answer and benefits her in multiple ways “I either quit the drugs or I quit you.” How is that a tough situation for her to be in? It’s not a dilemma for her at all, she would simply say “OK, then quit the drugs” It’s a win-win for her. They’re still in a relationship and he’s off drugs and alcohol so then why does he say “I hate to tell you this, but it’s you the drugs”? Why would she hate to hear that? Why is he apologizing for giving her a double win?
I don’t know, maybe I’m missing something here, but the song’s message just doesn’t seem to make sense. A lot of songs have lyrics that don’t make sense, I get that. But, this one stands out to me because Nashville and its songwriters are known for being absolute masters at storytelling.
Don’t get me wrong I love the song, but the meaning of the lyrics has always bugged me a little bit. Has anyone else noticed this?

HESI has always been the bane of my nursing journey while I was in school. I would always put In the work to make sure I had wiggle room with my grade because HESI’s always compromised as 10% of our end grade. So at the back of my mind I knew I would have to try really hard once it came to the exit.
my first comprehensive HESI exit A I completely bombed it with a 580. I wasn’t surprised because throughout nursing school I had never done well on HESI’s. I was super stressed because without a 900 you wouldn’t be able to pass. After doing a lot of research online and mostly this forum I found that many other nursing students really recommended Yourbestgrade . I decided to give it a try as the HESI comprehensive review given by my school from evolve was absolutely useless in my opinion. I had 6 weeks until the final HESI exam B to study. So I dedicated 5-6 days a week doing 100 questions a day with one day dedicated to also review all the rationales I had wrote down. And that is the major part READ AND WRITE DOWN THE RATIONALES!! They were so helpful and helped me understand how to answer the question and what to look for.
I had a small journal that had endless pages of rationales I had written down and I reviewed that constantly along with doing questions. Honestly at one point I started freaking out that YBG wasn’t enough because I started seeing some people say it didn’t actually help and I started using a multitude of things such as EAQ’s and Quizlet for 1 week but it just stressed me out even more so I just went back to focusing on YBG. Overall I think this program is definitely what helped me and really gave me a good basis overall. I will say I didn’t start hitting the 50% mark until about 3.5-4 weeks into using the program, but during the last 2 weeks I started averaging 50%-66%. The program overall will make you feel like you don’t know anything but it important to just keep going. I had completed majority of the YBG unused questions and on my HESI exit B I got a 911. In my opinion it was an amazing resource and it’s what allowed my score to increase 330 points.

Different ABA basic exam resources disagree on what tank capacity nitrous pressures begin to decline. Some say 25% capacity (400L in an E Cylinder) and other say 16% (250L in an E Cylinder). Does anyone know which is the correct answer on the Basic exam?
In general, does anyone have a good rule of thumb for which resource to rely on when there are disagreements over details like this between Barash, Miller, M&M, OpenAnesthesia, TrueLearn, Hall, etc?
Thanks in advance for the help!

SOME BACKGROUND:
I'm going to be upfront; the one thing truly stopping me from saying I am autistic with full certainty is my lack of an official diagnosis, despite having the knowledge that one does not need to be diagnosed to be autistic. I'm almost entirely certain after about 8 or so years of consideration. I'm attempting to seek a diagnosis not only for personal validation though, but also to have something concrete to give to my parents. For now, I consider myself self-diagnosed, though I've given my psychiatrist a 20 page document detailing why I believe I would benefit from a proper evaluation as well as all of the experiences and the collection of traits I have that I attribute to being autistic.
For some background: I am 20 and AFAB, transmasc but presenting as female due to not being out of the closet. I am Vietnamese and part of the first generation in my family to be born in America. My parents and grandparents were born and raised in Vietnam, and thus were raised with a very different culture surrounding things such as mental health and disability compared to the information I've had access to growing up in the US. I still live with my parents and am struggling with already diagnosed mental health issues including major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, unspecified ADHD, and an unspecified trauma disorder. Because of the language and cultural barrier, my parents are really only aware of the depression in name, and the ADHD they understand even less. They are trying their best, though my dad hasn't looked at any of the resources I've sent him about ADHD or autism in my attempts to help him understand better.
On my dad in particular: he has always been the kind to believe in toughing things out and simply trying harder. Over the years he has grown to be more understanding, especially as my mental health issues grew to degrees that became harder to hide, but we have a history in terms of what I'm about to describe re: my very recent meltdown.
WHAT HAPPENED:
The day before Mother's Day, my dad sprung up on me without warning that me and my younger brother were going over to our paternal grandparents' house to wish our grandmother a happy Mother's Day. This immediately upset me not because I didn't want to go, but because I hadn't had the time to mentally prepare myself for the shift in my routine—I had only done so for the actual date of Mother's Day. I've asked my family before that I am told ahead of time when plans to go out of the house where I'm involved are made, preferably at least a day beforehand. Unfortunately, my family is comprised of very spontaneous people who tend to make plans on the fly.
I made it clear I was fairly upset about not being told ahead of time to my mother, who thanked me when I got up to get ready to go. Something about being thanked for this was the final nail in the coffin for the upset that was gripping me. I think it was the idea that she knew full well that I was attempting to set aside my own comforts(? for lack of a better term) for the sake of family normality; something that I've had to do often.
I had a quiet breakdown in the bathroom while I washed myself, which came with the annoyance of how snotty tears would make you. Very annoying when bowing your head to wash your hair. I've had practice locking myself in the bathroom to have my breakdowns in a private place where I couldn't be walked in on and then questioned, because I always knew that I could never explain why I was having such a disproportionate reaction, especially given the cultural barrier. It would all seem stupid, immature, selfish, spoiled, and an overreaction. My plan was to cry it out in the shower and come back out after composing myself so we could leave. Tried and true method. I bit the back of my hands—to stifle my crying, to give myself a physical sensation to ground myself with, some combination of those two. It helped only a little bit.
As it turns out, there was a lot of baggage behind this upset outside of just this one incident. There is a very long-running pattern in which I must sacrifice my comfort or suck up my complaints in order to appease whatever my parents have decided to do, or whatever I was expected to do.
Sometimes it was their obsession with taking billions of family pictures—I vividly recall one instance where I was horribly upset about having to wear a dress, especially for the sole sake of driving to some flower field just to take pretty family pictures of which we have thousands. I was much younger at the time, maybe 14, and was expressing my upset in the only somewhat acceptable way I could, i.e. being incredibly grumpy. Eventually my dad blew up at me for being spoiled and various other things while I cried in the back of the car, my mother and younger brother dead silent. He drove to cool off. We did not talk about it ever again afterward.
Sometimes it was school-related. When I was around 11, I was struggling to complete an assignment for school for reasons I couldn't articulate, and honestly still can't. It was simple, and it was a drawing assignment, and I absolutely adored traditional art. But I was simply Stuck on some part, and was working myself into an anxious mess up until midnight. I was terrified of getting bad grades, of not meeting the expectations of people I considered authority figures, such as teachers. So much so that I wanted to stay home. And knowing I had no "proper" excuse, I tried to use a different one when I asked to stay home for that one day: menstrual cramps. I was told to see how I was doing in the morning.
In the morning I still said I wished to stay home from school due to cramps. After a lot of deliberation with my mother, she relented and allowed me to stay home. Despite the fact that I had gotten what I wanted, I was already horribly upset. Looking back on it, I think it was the fact that I had to fight so hard to stay home for just one day. It was upsetting that my visible upset wasn't enough. It was upsetting that they weren't just getting it.
I had a breakdown in the bathroom (there's a trend here as you can see) and slammed my arm against the heater in there so many times that I ended up with horrible bruising on the back of my arm the days after. My family members knocked on the door because people needed to get ready, and that only made me more upset—couldn't they hear me crying? Didn't they care? When I finally came out and crawled up into the upper bunk, my dad came in and started yelling at me.
Your average stuff, things like, "If I had a stomachache I wouldn't just be able to not go to work." I blocked a lot of it out of my memory, but most of the time I was under the covers crying while he engaged in a one-sided shouting match with me. Eventually my mother came in and gently asked me to stop crying, and to stop making my father mad.
While these two incidents and the others like them happened years ago, they were defining moments in my life and inform how I handle conflict (as in: I don't) and how I go about expressing my struggles (as in: rarely, and often with great shame). Standing in the shower and being unable to not think about these things, I spiraled further. It felt like I was being swallowed by my emotions. I don't know if angry or sad or upset really capture what I was feeling properly. My thoughts were like a car with its brakes cut, going at breakneck speeds on the highway.
By the time I was done with my shower I still wasn't composed. As it turns out, when you abuse a coping mechanism that relies on repression as long as I did, it stops working at some point. There was just too much to try and hide. More hand biting happened along with some hitting my head with my fists. So I sat in my room, and eventually my mom came in and saw my face. Unsurprisingly she didn't acknowledge the fact that I had clearly been crying—instead, with a soft voice, like she was coaxing a small child into doing something vaguely unpleasant, she told me, "Come on, let's go." And I'm sure that's how she was seeing me at that point. An oppositional, defiant child. I struggle not to see myself in that way, and still have been trying to unpack how much shame I feel when things like this happen.
My crying started up again because my tear ducts really don't like listening to me, and I asked somewhat incredulously, "You're still going to make me go?" In retrospect, it probably sounded bratty. Here I was, 20 years old, complaining about being "made" to go somewhere.
It took maybe a couple of seconds for my mom to decide to just let me stay home instead.
Once everyone was out, I had the loudest cry I'd ever experienced in my life. I'd never had the opportunity to, and so it just kind of... came out once the house was silent. I think I might've wailed. And then I promptly shut the hell up once I heard my [maternal] grandmother coming back upstairs. She passed by my room, asked why I didn't go (not noticing the state of my face, maybe due to eyesight). I gave a non-answer and she made some exasperated remark that I don't know how to translate into English. It nearly set me off again, knowing how inconvenient I was, how tired they all were of me and my antics.
I had a headache for the next 20 or so hours, which I knew would happen based on past experiences with breakdowns as emotionally taxing as this one. I'd also predicted during the whole thing that the next day I would be pretty nonfunctional, which I was unfortunately also right about. Whenever these things happen it throws my entire week off. It's upsettingly debilitating. Two days later, I'm somewhat functional, but the whole thing disrupted my... everything. I have an exam that I had planned to study for during the days I was busy trying to get myself back together emotionally. The headache actually came back, and is sitting with me nicely while I type this. Hey there.
The day immediately after, Mother's Day: I was pretty fearful the entire time. Mostly of what my dad was going to do. Best case scenario, he'd come into my room and we could have an open dialogue and communicate about what happened. Worst case scenario, he'd regress and revert back to how he'd been like years ago, screaming at me for my incompetence, my selfishness, my refusal to cooperate with the smallest things despite all our family does for me. After a little bit I had to add on a third possibility: that he would simply go about like nothing happened, which he has also done before. Generally though, I wasn't optimistic about my chances here. I learned through this that I absolutely don't trust him to handle my larger, more intrusive, more ugly issues with grace.
He's been ignoring my existence since my little meltdown. No hellos, good mornings, not even looking at me. He's talking with everyone else as normal. I've been keeping my head down and can really only assume that he's angry with me as I'd expected and based on what I know about him/understand in terms of his personality through prior experience.
While I could give benefit of the doubt and say he may be attempting to give me space, he's the kind of person who you can tell when he's angry. It's something we share. And it's truly more likely that he's upset about me throwing what looked to him like a shitfit over something small and inconsequential, refusing to do something as simple as a visit to make his mothemy paternal grandmother to give Mother's Day gifts. And I didn't get my propensity for avoiding communication and unpleasant conversations at all costs from nowhere, so. Here we are.
I still don't really know if what I had was an autistic meltdown or a "standard" emotional breakdown, whatever that even looks like. I think I'm used to framing my behaviors with neurotypical language, and often language that isn't too kind to myself. So on top of venting a bit, I also wanted to get an outside perspective, and see whether my breakdown sounded similar to any other autistic peoples' experiences with meltdowns.
If there's any advice out there to give in terms of my relationship with my dad, that would also be appreciated. I love my family, but it all hurts, and this has also made me realize that I may have a lot more trauma to unpack surrounding my family than I've acknowledged.
I've been considering getting a physical copy of Sincerely, Your Autistic Child to annotate and highlight certain sections, putting sticky tabs on chapters I find relevant, and providing definitions for words I know he hasn't come across before, to give to him and ask him to at least attempt to read those bits. The more bitter and angry part of me, the part that are tired of having to be the one to accommodate for everything interpersonally, just wants to go up to him and tell him the reason I never go to him when I'm upset is because I'm scared. To tell him exactly what all those times he yelled at me did to my ability to self-advocate, to tell him what all those times my emotions and emotional well being were devalued did to my self-esteem. That the "interpersonally submissive" phrase from my 40 page psych report has roots in the way he raised me entirely on obedience, and how I am still learning that I am allowed to say no in all sorts of contexts. Maybe I can do both of these things, and probably when he isn't pretending I don't exist, and when I feel less like I'll fall to bits the moment I open my mouth in his direction. I'll likely try and avoid using language that outright blames him for the sake of maintaining a good relationship whenever the talk comes around.
I'm still trying to accept the fact that I might need more support than I allowed myself to think. I only recently found out that truly voicing that I'm having academic trouble is something that brings me so much shame that tears spring up in my eyes—going to the Disability Support Services office on my campus made me far more emotional and nervous than I'd expected. With how I'm navigating my own self-acceptance, I don't know how I'm going to get my family to accept that I'm not the "normal" child I know they still wished I was.