My wife cheated on me four days ago. She went to visit her parents, and while staying there, she went out with some of her childhood friends. They went to a bar and had drinks. There was a guy hitting on her the entire night. One thing led to another, and she had sex with him in his car.
Afterward, she was horrified and scared. She ran to her parents house, where she started panicking and crying, and she told them what she did. Two days ago, she came home and immediately sat me down to confess. I was already stressed from work, so hearing this didn't help. I was enraged. Somehow, I kept my rage in check and asked her to explain. She didn't hide anything, she told me everything in detail. She was crying, but not excessively. I guess she understood that tears wouldn't change anything. She gave me her phone, told me that her parents know, and said that she would like to rebuild trust and our marriage, she will do whatever she needs and whatever I want but also that she will accept whatever I decide.
For the past two days, I have felt nothing but numbness. We barely eat, and we haven't said more than a few words to each other. I sleep in another room, and I don't eat what she prepares. I cook for myself now, and she doesn't like it, it makes her even more sad. She doesn't go out of "our" room, she's mostly crying, talking to herself or reading the internet on what she can do.
Here's what I'm thinking:

1. The easy and probably best solution is divorce. There is no trusting a cheater, and there is nothing she can do to bring back time and return to how things used to be.
2. A somewhat optimistic but painful solution is reconciliation. She came clean on her own, willingly gave up her phone and accounts, and told the same story to her parents, which makes her somewhat trustworthy. Her father messaged me to think about it but said he will understand whatever I decide. She is ready to do whatever she needs to rebuild marriage. I thought about couples counseling, but I'm not sure if I want to go there. I didn't cause this, she did. One person destroyed this, not two.

I don't know what to do here. This was the last thing I needed in my life, but here we are. Is it normal to feel nothing? Right now, I don't feel anything, it's like I don't care anymore.
TL;DR: Wife cheated, confessed, and is willing to rebuild trust. I'm torn between divorce and reconciliation. Feeling numb and unsure about my emotions and future.

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTION OF ABUSE, CHILD S*XUAL ABUSE, S*ICIDE
tl;dr: I'm trying to figure out if my husband could be a narcissist, or emotionally immature, or some mashup of both. Could someone explain this to me like I'm five?
(If this isn’t the right group, please point me in the right direction)
I tried my best to condense, but it’s a really long one. I’m sorry.
A breakdown of the pertinent info:

Me: F, mid-fifties, just returned to PT work outside of home Husband: M, mid-fifties, always worked a regular job, main wage earner Married: 30+ years w/adult kids (no longer at home)

For a while, I've thought my husband has definitely shown signs of narcissistic behavior. I won't list everything, but a few things are that he is definitely argumentative (over seemingly insignificant issues), jealous, needy for my attention and flies off the handle if he feels ignored, his only "love language" seems to be sex (and any lack of it means I don't love him), he loves the silent treatment which is always followed by a huge blowup and then love-bombing, he always one-ups me (he works harder, he feels worse, he is more tired, etc). There's more, but I'm trying to keep this short. I will say that he has never physically hurt me, but he has spent a lot of energy being emotionally abusive.
I would say that is his main thing; constantly saying how much I don't love him and how much I don't care about him if he feels the least little bit ignored or has to spend any time alone. My going back to work at a PT job has just turned that fire into an inferno because I've gone from a SAHM/SAHW to working PT, and sometimes just by necessity he is by himself (I want to say that, in the thirty years he has worked his job, I have been by myself more times than I can count because he has worked scheduled/unscheduled/spur-of-the-moment overtime, and I just rolled with it because, really, what other choice was there? Unemployment for the main breadwinner?). He absolutely cannot handle being alone, while I find being alone refreshing and rejuvenating. In fact, I'm the opposite; I'm like, "Do you love me? Then go away and leave me alone for a while!"
But here's where I have been doing some thinking. I know that many of you are going to say that there is no way, but I do believe he loves me. I've seen the man behind all that. And I do love him, despite all of the problems and issues, and I believe as much as he understands it, he loves me too. I am determined to work on this marriage. It occurred to me the other day, when he was mad and throwing a fit about something; I thought; "He's acting like a toddler who needs a snack and a nap." And so my mind started wandering along those lines for a bit.
You see, my husband has had a hard life. Both of us grew up in dysfunctional families with abusive parents. His father was definitely a narcissist, and physically abusive to his wife and at least to my husband (the GC sibling seems to have escaped most of it) and I've heard was sexually abusive to family members as well. He put his wife in the hospital more than once because of severe beatings. He threatened to drive off a bridge with the whole family in the car. He threatened all of them with a gun and a family friend had to come over and save them. He regularly beat my husband for the crime of not eating his vegetables at dinner. When my husband was 22, and I was pregnant, his father tried to hit him over the head with a huge wrench. (My husband is a strong man; that was a dumb idea.) There’s apparently a lot more my husband won’t talk about and/or doesn't remember.
But his mother wasn't an angel, either (let's be clear, SHE DID NOT DESERVE SPOUSAL ABUSE OF ANY KIND. NO PERSON DESERVES ABUSE. However, you can not deserve abuse and, at the same time, not be a nice person). She believed the world revolved around her, she was never wrong and the smartest person in the room, and my husband was expected to be at her beck and call whenever she wanted him for whatever reason. She abused him in her own way. Hurting people hurt people. When I came along, he was nineteen, and I treated him like an adult; that went over like a lead balloon because she treated him like a child.
Shortly after we got married and had our first child, she purposefully ceased to live, which threw my husband into a deep, deep depression for a few years. It was rough. I tried to get him to go to therapy, but he flat refused. We worked through it and eventually had another child, and he can finally talk about it now, thirty-some years later. But he rarely visits her grave, and I’ve never forced him to go if he doesn’t want to.
At very significant points in his emotional development, my husband had some major life crises happen:

He had to retake first grade because his mother was put in the hospital by his father's abuse; he shut down to the point he wouldn't do his homework and had to be held back (which is hard enough); he would have been around 7 years old He spent his childhood dealing with an abusive father and wondering if he was going to literally not be alive His parents finally divorced when he was around 14 years old After that, he and his mother and sibling were constantly financially insecure His mother purposefully ceased to live when he was twenty-three, after we had just had our first child He has told me that he doesn’t remember large chunks of his childhood (which I understand is a trauma response)

As he was being 'constructed', there was built a severely flawed frame structure around these emotionally damaged areas; the ability in his ‘frame’ to withstand a structural state of stress is severely defective. He never really learned how to regulate his emotions, how to work through them or deal with them in a healthy way. His mother never got him therapy for the abuse he had endured since birth; if anything, she compounded it (that’s a whole post in itself because, wait for it, she was a counselor). The only relationship he had modeled on a consistent basis was a dysfunctional, abusive, unhealthy one. (He did have maternal grandparents who were loving and kind, but they couldn't be there 24/7.) His aunts and uncles were all also in dysfunctional marriages/divorces, so no help or escape there. As a result, he has nothing to draw from when he feels stress, irritation, anger, sadness, irritation, loneliness; he struggles to even identify the differences between all of those emotions. He is extremely simplistic in his thought processes when it comes to emotions: He feels good/bad, energetic/tired, loved/unloved, happy/sad, full/starving; sometimes he’s capable of mildly annoyed if he's in a really good mood, but mostly his emotions are one extreme or the other (they do not change wildly; he picks one and usually sticks with it for a while).
If he feels stressed in one area of his life, then EVERY area of his life, in his mind, sucks. Very black/white. No grey at all. I’m not sure he knows grey exists. He thinks life should ALWAYS be a happy feeling, and if there is any bad/sad/stress/negative emotion, then that ruins it all and he can only concentrate on that, like a pebble in his shoe.
It’s like if someone gave each of us an oatmeal raisin cookie (mine has my allergens/intolerances removed):
Neither of us are big fans of raisins, but we both like oatmeal cookies. I will just eat around the raisins, or I will pick them out. If that is impossible, I’ll just eat the raisins, even though they aren’t my favorites, because I like oatmeal cookies and I try to look at the positive. “A minute ago I didn’t have a cookie, but now I do have a cookie, even though it has raisins that I don’t like, so life is pretty okay at this moment.” (I try to find something positive, even if it’s just a little thing, and focus on that.)
He will spend his time bitching that his cookie has raisins. He doesn’t like raisins. Don’t they know he doesn’t like raisins? How is he supposed to eat this cookie with raisins? And if I point out that he can make the best of it and just try to pick out the raisins, then he gets all upset. “But I should have got a cookie with no raisins. I shouldn’t have to pick out the raisins. Even if I pick them out, I can still taste them. Life sucks all the time.” (He finds something negative in everything, even if it’s a little thing, and builds it up to overshadow all the good things.)
So, I’m thinking that he has probably inherited some narcissistic tendencies from his father (and some not-so-pleasant stuff from his mother as well), and then he’s added emotional trauma to this, which makes me think emotional immaturity has been stirred into this particular pie (or cookie, if you will). Could this be so?
Here’s a very recent case in point. He works nights. I mostly work days, but my job is such that I sometimes need to be ‘on-call’, and so occasionally I need to go in at weird hours/times. It’s a great job and I love it, and it’s a perfect fit for me and my skill-set, but he’s having a hard time adjusting to me not always being around like I have been for most of our marriage. (Remember, to him not being around=not loving him.) He feels like he’s not the center of attention any more, even though I’ve tried to make up for it.
Due to circumstances beyond our control, we are temporarily sharing a car. We're making the best of it, but it’s a hassle and we are both tired of it (using public transportation is not an option in our rural area and neither of us have coworkers who live close to us). His shifts can be 8-12 hours, depending. Well, on certain days of the month, he works mandatory 12-hour shifts. They are always on specific days. I made work plans based on that schedule, which never changes. But yep, you guessed it…this past Saturday, it changed. He told me that I didn’t need to take him to work that night since he was only working 8 hours, and I was all, “What? No, I really need the car because I already told my boss I would work tonight because I know you always work 12 hours on this day.”
Just how I was supposed to know the schedule changed, I’m not sure, but he completely lost the plot. He started yelling at me while we were still home and it didn’t stop until I dropped him off at work an hour later. I just shut down. He covered every subject; I didn’t love him, I didn’t care about his feelings, nobody EVER cares about his feelings, I always leave him alone, I never have sex with him so that PROVES I don’t love him (I have sat him down and told him, repeatedly, about some physical issues I am having at the moment that really don’t make sex much fun for me which I am under a doctor’s care for, and I have reassured him that I love him very much and I want to have sex with him but I need to get these physical things under control; to his credit, he has never forced me to have sex), I work too much, I shouldn’t have taken the stupid job anyway (he is the one who told me I should probably get a PT job), I don’t get paid enough (I make the going rate for what I do), I don’t clean the house enough, the dishes need washed, I don’t feed him properly, I’ll probably spend all day Sunday running errands for my mother (who is eighty, a manipulative narcissist herself, has health issues, I’m an only child, I have had to step up and help her) and not be home with him, and why am I so upset, what am I starting to cry about now???
Then Sunday, Mother’s Day, he must have felt guilty because he helped me carry in groceries and was nice to me all day. Not in a love-bombing way, not over-the-top or weird, just nice. He’s been nice to me today as well. He did mention in passing that on these scheduled 12-hour shifts that the crew on the other shift always leaves extra work for him to do, and then denies it, and he knows he’s going in to a mess and a ton of extra work (he has a hard, physically demanding job), so that puts him in a bad mood. I don’t know if that was his round-about way of apologizing or what. Yes, he probably was stressed out about going in to a mess at work, and my taking the car didn’t help, and he didn’t handle the stress/anger in a healthy way (to put it mildly). We both could have communicated better about work schedules, but I was just basing my decision to work on his never-changing schedule. It was frustrating, but it wasn’t the end of the world, and it all worked out. His reaction was totally out of proportion to the event.
So is that narcissistic behavior or immature behavior? It’s like he gets mad, he blows up, he comes to himself, he apologizes/acts sorry, loves on me, treats me good, sloooowly builds up anger again, gets silent silenter silentest…blows up again and the whole thing starts over. Why is this still happening? Shouldn’t we be past this by now? It’s hard to explain, and I know some of you won’t understand (and nor should you, based on what you have been through, which is truly horrific, and I am so sorry), but it’s like he comes to himself and realizes how he is acting, but later the hurt and anger take over again. And the cyclic pattern in his life continues.
Anyway, I have been thinking a lot about whether he might be more emotionally immature than narcissistic, or more narcissistic than emotionally immature, or some combo of both, and what I could do to help him and strategies to deal with it myself. NGL, it is really taking a toll on me emotionally. I feel like I have been run through the wringer every day. Some days I cry and cry (when I’m alone, never when he is here, he gets mad when I cry because he can’t handle negative emotions and he would never acknowledge he caused the negative emotion), some days I just shut down and sleep for 12 hours. I have a couple of mental health apps on my phone that I use.
We are at a time in our marriage when I feel like we should be enjoying ourselves (our adult children have moved out and we are a little more financially stable than we were the last time we had no kids at home), but it feels like everything is just falling apart. I feel like we shouldn’t be arguing about this same stuff after thirty-plus years, but here we are, still arguing about whether I love him or not.
Thank you for reading my long and boring post. Just typing it all out helped.

Many people are calling for Ned's head lately.
I don't think he's been perfect. He has a positive reputation around the league at least as a person and businessperson. That doesn't mean he's a good scout.
I think it's important to separate hirings into categories one would attribute to the owner, the coach, or the general manager, even though it is reportedly a collaborative process and Paulson has to sign off on everything. It is also essential to note that different coaches have different systems, styles, strategies, and tactics. Players identified as having the skills, disposition, mentality, etc. for particular purposes under a particular coach may not work as well in different circumstances. For example, I'll suggest that having a slow right centerback isn't as much of a problem with a right fullback who can track back, central midfielders who can help cover, and an offense that defends higher, doesn't turn the ball over so often, and is effective in attack. Also, given the relatively sudden and unexpected departures of Porter and Wilkinson, and the transition periods between coaches and scouting/technical staff, it's important to note that there were times when there weren't people in particular roles and the styles, tactics, strategies, philosophies, etc. weren't clear or changed.
While I have no proof and Ned has expressed his enthusiasm for and confidence in Neville, I very much feel like Phil is Paulson's guy. It was said that he had a rapport with Paulson. I don't expect Ned to say anything publicly that isn't supportive. Maybe he actually believed Neville was the best candidate and maybe he still believes he's a good coach.
Using Wikipedia, I documented which players signed with the club or had their contracts extended while Ned was in different roles.
When he was promoted to Technical Director, he was specifically credited with scouting specific players. He's also credited with finalizing the deal with Evander in late 2022, after GW was fired but before he was officially GM. The rumor is that the deal was going to fall apart before Ned took over negotiations. I've italicized those players that Ned might have been involved in scouting, recruiting, signing, or extending who are still on the team. I've also indicated when I think it's pretty clear when a player was brought in by a coach because of some past association. I may be wrong about some and may have missed some. I know there is incomplete information but I only tried so hard. There are also situations where the player was technically signed to an extension in one year but it was effectively for the next season. The distinction between preseason and summer transfer window signings isn't always obvious. Also, many of these players were scouted for some time before a decision was made to sign them and an opportunity presented itself. For example, Wilkinson talked about wanting Lucas Melano for some time. I think Porter was big on him too. We had our eyes on Yimmi Chara for a long time too. Considering that, I'm not inclined to credit Ned with 2017 signings at all, and don't think he had much to do with the renewal or financial decisions until 2023.
Director of Scouting and Recruitment - November 2016
2017 Season
Signings

• Andres Flores - Gio
• Modou Jadama

Extensions/Renewals

• Jeff Attinella
• Kendall McIntosh
• Zark Valentin - Porter
• Dairon Asprilla
• Jack Barmby
• Bill Tuiloma

2018 Season
Signings

• Julio Cascante
• Foster Langsdorf
• Eryk Williamson
• Jorge Villafaña - Returned. Originally signed as a Porter player.
• Steve Clark
• Andy Polo - Ned is credited with scouting him. GW took credit for his extension.
• Cristhian Paredes - Ned is credited with scouting him.
• Samuel Armenteros
• Tomás Conechny

Extensions/Renewals

• Zerek Valentin
• Jeremy Ebobisse
• Modou Jadama
• Bill Tuiloma
• Foster Langsdorf
• Kendall McIntosh

Technical Director - December 2018
2019 Season
Signings

• Marvin Loría - Ned is credited with scouting him.
• Renzo Zambrano - Ned is credited with scouting him.
• Claude Dielna - Ned is credited with scouting him.
• Aljaz Ivavic
• Brian Fernandez
• Jorge Moreira

Extensions/Renewals

• Sebastian Blanco
• Diego Valeri
• Bill Tuiloma
• Steve Clark
• Jeremy Ebobisse

2020 Season
Signings

• Yimmi Chara
• Blake Bodily
• Jaroslaw Niezgoda
• Chris Duvall
• Pablo Bonilla
• Zac McGraw
• Felipe Mora
• Dario Zuparic

Extensions/Renewals

• Dairon Asprilla

2021 Season
Signings

• Larrys Mabiala
• Santiago Moreno

2022 Season
Signings

• Justin Vom Steeg
• David Ayala
• Justin Rasmussen
• Diego Gutierrez
• Claudio Bravo
• Juan David Mosquera

Extensions/Renewals

• Felipe Mora
• Zac McGraw
• Diego Chara
• Cristhian Paredes

General Manager - December 2023
October 2022 - GW Fired
2023 Season
Signings

• Evander - Neville said that he had wanted Evander at Miami.
• Miguel Araujo
• Antony
• Eric Miller
• Frank Boli

Extensions/Renewals

• Nathan Fogaça

2024 Season
Signings

• Kamal Miller - Neville guy
• James Pantemis - Neville guy
• Trey Muse - Neville guy?
• Maxime Crepeau - Neville guy
• Jonathan Rodriguez

Extensions/Renewals

• Juan David Mosquera
• Santiago Moreno
• Eric Miller

Do we blame these guys going forward?
Jack Dodd - Technical Director - April 2023

• Former Director of Scouting for Toronto and a scout for Liverpool and Crystal Palace

Nacho Leblic - Director of Scouting - February 2024
With all of this info, I think we can blame Ned in whole or in part for the following current players being signed and / or having their contracts renewed:

1. Rodriguez
2. Evander
3. Loría
4. Williamson
5. Moreno
6. Mosquera
7. McGraw
8. Eric Miller
9. Fogaça
10. Antony
11. Mora
12. Diego Chara
13. Araujo
14. Paredes
15. Ayala
16. Mabiala
17. Asprilla
18. Kamal Miller
19. Muse
20. Crepeau
21. Pantemis
22. Sulte
23. Zuparic
24. Ikoba
25. Bravo

Gee, that's the entire roster. Realistically though, I'm only crediting him for 2023 and maybe Rodriguez. He wasn't really GM until Evander at the end of 2022. GW, Paulson, Porter, Gio, and Neville all have had input and in many cases more authority in decision-making up to that point.
Which players came and went under Ned's watch should we not have signed or not let go?
And which players who are still on the roster just objectively suck and aren't MLS-level players? As starters or depth? Who doesn't even have any potential? Who has aged out? Who is good but doesn't fit the system? Who doesn't fit Neville's system but fit Gio's? Note: this is all in MLS-level terms.

1. Rodriguez was great but is now just good and arguably doesn't fit the system. He's a second striker but we only play with one forward. I don't think the 4-4-2 we tried against Seattle was a good idea. Obviously, it didn't work. Maybe a diamond of Evander, Chara, Ayala, and Paredes. We'd need more defense to cover for Mosquera getting forward and Moreno tucking in. But I digress...
2. Evander is good but poorly utilized and inconsistent. He plays to the level of his teammates. He's not a leader. Could he be great? Probably not as a 10. He's got flashes though, so I hope I'm wrong.
3. Loría in my eyes isn't MLS level and hit his ceiling. I'll accept arguments that he's a good sub for the money.
4. Williamson is good but oft-injured, and inconsistently plays to the level of his teammates.
5. Moreno is inconsistent, sometimes played out of position, doesn't fit the system, but has potential. He takes chances, which I respect, but maybe doesn't have the best judgement. Maybe he can learn. I hope so. He tries. He's good. He could be great. He probably shouldn't be the starter all the time.
6. Mosquera is a good winger but terrible fullback. Or maybe he's a good wingback but terrible fullback, depending on how you define the roles. Maybe he has potential. I increasingly doubt it. He doesn't seem to have the mentality for it. He's Alvas Powell 2.0. I'd love to be wrong. He tried last match. If he becomes a good fullback he'll be great overall.
7. McGraw is good but terrible in the system, especially when Mosquera doesn't track back. He's just too slow and sometimes has poor judgement.
8. Eric Miller is good as a sub right fullback and decent as a sub left fullback.
9. Fogaça isn't good and has no potential. I'd love to be wrong. I like his workrate but he's not MLS quality and never will be.
10. Antony is good, not great, and maybe has potential. His first touch is garbage, he's one-footed, and he doesn't make smart runs. He fast though. I don't think he can succeed on a shitty team like ours because he won't see the ball enough. Ideally, he'd understudy to a great winger and learn from them.
11. Mora is surprisingly good. He's opportunistic. He's a leader. He's committed. He puts in effort. I still don't think he's a DP and I'd kind of prefer he was a subto an even better forward but it's hard to argue with success.
12. Diego Chara. He's still very good. People who say he's lost a step are confusing his inability to cover everybody else's mistakes, and his own occasional lapses, with having lost it. He's barely lost anything. He'd look better on a team that wasn't absolute ass. It's sad for him.
13. Araujo. I think he's good but just too slow for this system. His passing is good and he's good with the ball at his feet. His positioning and judgement seem fine, generally. I'd bet he'd look better on a better team too. I could say the same for some former centerbacks as well.
14. Paredes. He's good. He's developed and grown on me. He's pretty consistent and generally puts in effort. He rarely pisses me off. I'd hoped he'd develop into a 6 but that's apparently not to be. I think he's hit his ceiling. He's a great rotator or sub. Not a star.
15. Ayala. He's good. Could become great if he can stay healthy and get more development. I'm worried about his injury history. He's a bit small and can get pushed around a bit.
16. Mabiala. He's just too old and slow now. Good dude. Maybe his last extension was too long. I think the tactics are especially bad for him but he wasn't good enough last season either. Father Time just caught up faster than we expected.
17. Asprilla. Is he good? I don't think he really is. But his moments of sheer genius, his workrate, and his heart make him great. As a sub. Flare counts for a lot. I love it when Asprilla dazzles.
18. Kamal Miller. He's good but too slow for the system.
19. Muse. No idea man.
20. Crepeau. He's great but we sure haven't given him a chance to be great for us yet.
21. Pantemis. He's good and could be great.
22. Sulte. I've only ever seen him be awful. I wish him the best but have no reason for optimism, especially since Muse came on.
23. Zuparic. He's the best player in the league, obviously. He's good. Maybe he was great once. He's not good enough for the system at least. If Neville ever substantively changes tactics I think he could be solid for us again. Seems like his attitude may be a problem though. Who knows what to believe?
24. Ikoba. Absolute mystery to me. I assume the worst from context clues. Wish him the best. I think he, Sulte, and all who came before underscore how wretched our academy system is. Who do we blame for that? Does it matter? I think it does. I'd love to develop cheap players we could sell to reinvest in the club.
25. Bravo. He's great. He could be brilliant. He makes the occasional mistake but that's the price of greatness. He takes risks. He's a fighter too. Love this dude but he still gets underrated and shit on. We're so much better with him on the team. How often do we have good fullbacks, especially a left back. Him, Moreira, and Villafaña are kind of it, right? Farfan showed promise but bringing Jorge back stunted his prospects with us?

I think we are less than the sum of our parts. I don't think too many of our players are scrubs. We have too much invested in central midfield, centerback, and keeper. Central midfield was complicated by injuries and Chara's insane longevity. Our poor DP signings hurt our ability to move on from them in terms of timing and money. Ivacic was still on the books well into the last transfer window. Mabiala is taking up roster and cap space. Zuparic is questionable. McGraw and Araujo just don't seem to be good fits for the system that Neville is trying to implement. Kamal Miller isn't either but Neville doesn't realize that. I'll suggest that Mosquera not defending hurt the CBs last season too, along with the missing attacking DPs.
I don't know what we can realistically do about our problems near-term. I don't think Nevilleball works even with a right fullback who can defend and faster centerbacks. That would help. But the lack of off-the-ball movement, lack of ball progression through midfield, lack of creative runs, poor passing, low pressure, shitty zonal marking on set piece defending, not closing passing lanes, not stepping to the ball; not making incisive, line-splitting passes; not communicating, poor rotations, not making the final pass or taking shots in the box, passing back all the time, slow build-up, not covering the far post, injuries... It's a lot. Some of these problems predate Neville, so he ought to have accounted for them and adjusted accordingly. The FO has denied lack of talent is a problem. That leaves coaching and attitude or mentality. Attitude and mentality often come back to coaching IMHO.

https://imgur.com/a/5xOPCjc
What's weirder than a strange kid suddenly joining you for school one day? She needs your help getting a flight home. And that's the easy part.
“Alex Faraway And The Last Martian”, is Book 1 of a science-fiction trilogy about an inventive boy named Alex Faraway and the adventures he encounters with large, robotic insect creatures (both good and evil) and a strange, orphaned girl who he finds living in the abandoned scrapyard just beyond the backyard of his rural home. The crux of the story deals with unexpected connections that Alex soon uncovers between the robots in the scrapyard, the girl, "Rainah“, and the planet Mars; but it is not with the Mars that we know of today, but with Mars when it was ten thousand years younger. And since his earliest memories, Alex has somehow known that his long-missing father is on that distant planet as well – why, he does not yet know, but he hopes to find him, somehow, someday. And how might he travel to that distant world to search for his dad? Why, in the spaceship he is building in his workshop nearby the scrapyard (with help from his own loyal robots and a fantastic engine called the DIVE Drive) of course. But, will the wicked ones, namely The Others, lurking in the scrapyard allow him to leave? Suspend, for just a little while, all that you hold to be the usual, the normal and venture into the world of Alex Faraway; after you do, you may not wish to return.
Alien encounter / evil robots / ancient civilization / world-building / other dimensions / worlds collide / epic battles / climate change allegory / sinister plot / heros vs villains
TW: Violence; Description of loneliness (child missing a parent); Moderate Description of death; Peril
www.deepskystories.com

What happened when I came out to my ex
So we were introduce by a Kendra Lee Taylor (filler generic name) (her at the time best friend), and she was Jessica Lilly Wilson (another filler generic name) . And this is what happened
Sooo. For one, I'm transgender. (Mtf), and I was with my abusive ex (cis woman), since literally high-school. We were together for a long time, I told her I would ".Wear women's clothes, and fantasize about being a woman. And for some reason dressing as one in private helped me cope sometimes." I also had expressed that sometimes it would cause me to get turned on (what the trans community later described as 'euphoria erections'). She didn't mind, atleast she said she didn't, she said she thought it was sexy, she liked a 'guy in touch with his feminine side' ,and she was bisexual anyways. I had coped with my gender issues (which i didn't fully realize were gender issues due to upbringing) , by just having these private escapes, often with her as an audience. She turned it more and more sexual though. Often whenever I was just relaxing in fem clothes she ALWAYS progressed it to sex. Now I had a bit of a 'being dominated' fetish I'm not gonna lie. But often she wanted me to do things I thought were really.gross. like making me sit in our sex juices, or sit with my own ejaculate on myself. She had a weird and honestly sick fetish for stuff like that. Specific to males in panties. And I kinda just coped with life with the mentality of " well I get to have the family the 'good Christian kid' and his high-school sweetheart. And my mother will one day look at grand babies and love the hell out of em, and that'll make all this worth it. Also I want to clarify, Post transition (so as a woman) I would be a lesbian. I've never been attracted to men. Another reason why my gender issues confused me so much. I also ALWAYS was just as honest with my partner (my abuser), as I was with myself at any given time in regards to this issue. So its not like I was a total closet case to my at the time gf. Sadly my mother got really sick. And no. She didn't make it. She went rather fast. It was devastating, tbh we had a more matriarchal system in our household, despite our father being a religious zealot. She ran the home, and he normally caved to what she wanted. I became so deeply depressed I was going to genuinely kill myself. Eventually one day I just told my partner, " I need to explore my fem side and figure out what this gender issue is, and I need to fully explore it, to see if my feminine side is just latent desires I couldn't act on when younger or if I was actually trans. " she VERY reluctantly , and angrily one day took me to get some clothes of my own. A padded bra, multiple women's underwear, and some thigh highs, and agreed to let me continue to borrow some of her stuff, until I got more items. We began exploring. Well I did, she kept trying to fetishize it, and when I told her no, or when I stayed dressed even after sex. She would get beyond huffy with me. She started getting more and more mean to me as I continued to explore in a non sexualized way. I eventually one night extremely scared and sobbing, told her I was trans and there was nothing anyone could do to fix it. So I braced for impact, expecting her to break up with me. I was astounded she said " There is nothing wrong with you, its the 2020s, and people are becoming more accepting now." I was terrified, knowing my dad was never gonna accept it, and my brothers were a coin toss, though I knew my.younger one most likely wouldn't care. And I didn't think my older one really would either but still. Hiwever as I continued in my path to coming out as a transwoman. She got more and more verbally and maliciously abusive, she sabotaged things I was beginning to try, she berated me constantly and even tried to delay my coming out. I eventually started dressing as a woman full time, except at work. And around my bio family. I started hrt in private, except my partner and her parents knew. (She was my abuser not my partner). She turned from a sweet borderline feminist, and fairly sensible liberal gal, to an irl reddit cringelord for lack of a better term. She started taking these really jacked up takes, that she never espoused before, and calling me names like " gender retard". I kept pleading with her to stop, that if she wanted to break up we just could, I'd need some time to find a place, but everything could be amicable (btw I was clear that this option always was on the table), and It was ok if she didn't wanna stay alot of couples split after a transition and that doesn't make you a bigot. But if you want to keep trying, please stop mistreating me. Several of my friends had wanted me to dump her for how she was acting. But I foolishly believed she loved me and was just having a hard time. But eventually she dumped me and at the worst time, I had lost a job , got a new job, and had to leave it for safety reasons and was basically financially dependent on her, despite wanting to leave but needing an exit strategy. She turned our new apartment (after we fled her parents house) into a horror house. I still to this day have nightmares of waking up on the couch with her about to walk through the door. The abuse was horrible. At one point comongntoca head with her brutally beating me black and blue. I didnt fight back. Within a few weeks I was on sidewalks. We had a savings account that I had helped build for over SEVEN years. And it was in her name. And she kept all of it. I was homeless and still technically am. But am housed. I don't know how to have peace. I see her when I close my eyes. I hear her insults in my head. And I'm STILL recovering from her financial abuse. What do I do? Please...

Visited Confucius cemetery, temple, and Kong mansion in Qufu, the birthplace of Confucius. Had an English speaking tour guide who told me fascinating things.
Confucius was the only son from his father’s third wife who was 40 years younger. When he was born, the top of his skull was indented like the shape of a bowl that could hold water.
At the temple built to honor him, dragons were carved with 5 fingers which is usually only reserved for emperors. Confucius was highly respected and treated like an emperor (unfortunately 400 years after his death). When emperors visited the temple to pay respect, the pillars were covered with red fabric so that emperors would not be jealous of the craftsmanship which was better than pillars in the Forbidden City.
Direct descendants of Confucius were declared noble and given special titles 900 years ago that lasts until today and the direct descendent currently lives in Taiwan. This is the longest surviving Chinese noble family. Worldwide there are 2 million descendants of Confucius, my grandmother being a 72nd generation descendant. Each generation has the same middle character which can be seen on the family tree photo. In line with this, my grandmothers name is Kong Xian Y.
The trees in Qufu at Confucius sites are interestingly twisted. I’ve seen this in Sedona where energy vortexes shape trees in similar ways. Was told that Chinese people consider this area to have a lot of energy.
Wonderful trip and if anyone wants to visit, I highly recommend staying at the JW Marriott which is a 10 minute walk from the temple and you’ll get to experience ancient Chinese architecture with comfortable modern interior. There are locals parked outside ready to take you to local restaurants and will tell you stories about Confucius in mandarin for about $2. We had a ride (also 72nd generation descendant!) that stayed with us for 4 hours taking us to each location and helped us find an English speaking tour guide for 100 rmb ($14). The tour guide charged 400 ($52). Totally worth the stop on my trip through Shandong.

I had a dream probably 12 years ago that I’ve never forgotten, during one of the darkest times in my life when I was scared I’d fail in life
The dream began in a volcanic Ashland where I was traveling with a ragtag band of refugees trying to escape some horrible volcanic event or maybe even super volcanic event, so we were all journeying through this grey valley flanked by ashen mountains with a few distant volcanoes, I was the leader of this group and they were depending on me to hopefully guide them to survival.
We came to a huge obsidian temple structure and it was built onto the valley wall so we had to climb it to ascend out of the valley, so we entered. But the building had an ominous energy like something dark was sleeping inside of it.
Part of the way up, a young boy in my group was running ahead even though I told him to wait and tried to run after him, but as happens in dreams my legs were like lead and I couldn’t keep up. I had this growing sense of dread.
Then the boy slipped off the edge over an overhang and as I looked down after him he plunged into a lava pool, burning to death. My sense of dread didn’t go away it only increased. Somehow I knew (maybe because it was a dream made by my own mind) that that wasn’t the only horror that awaited us in here, this place wanted all of us not just the boy.
That dread manifested as the boy came clawing his way out from the lava pit and let out a horrifying cry like a nazgul or a ghoulish undead, with his flesh bubbling and dripping off of his bones in places he began sprinting with inhuman speed back towards the entrance of the obsidian temple he had fallen from, right back into the entrance.
My band of refugees began panicking, torn between the anguish of watching the boy die and the horror dawning on them of what he had become- a monster- and why he would come sprinting back into the temple some floors below us.
We all heard the inhuman commotion as his undead body slammed into corners, so great was his speed, and we all realized rather abruptly that he was closing in on our group.
I urged the group to begin climbing the stairwells that wrapped around the precipices of this obsidian temple, up towards the valley wall. We had only one possible escape: somehow reaching the top and whatever salvation waited for us up there from the desolate volcanic wasteland and the undead monster that had once been a little boy. So we all begun to sprint, but we were slow.
some of the refugees had bags, some were elderly men and women, it began to dawn on me that we had no hope to escape as i heard the monster closing in from below. I turned to confront him, readying to fight with no weapons.
When he emerged he looked at me with his ghastly skull shining through his melted off face and he spoke and said "You did this to me so I will punish you by making you live while your people die." And he ran past me with superhuman speed and tore into my group, beginning to butcher these weak powerless refugees even as I tried to fight him, plead with him, even as I tried to urge them to keep running, he eventually killed every last one of them with his long ghoul clawed skeletal hands.
"Im sorry." i said to him. "Im sorry i let you become a monster." and he just smiled back at me and stepped off the ledge, plunging again into the lava, this time to rest eternal, but the carnage of my mangled people now lay all around me, and still the black obsidian stairway beckoned, leading up into the tallest passes of the ashen mountains where smoke and fog obscured the path, I had nobody left and nowhere to go but up.
So i went up. Up, up, up through winding valley corridors of sheer black jagged rockfaces, ascending thousands of steps until the atmosphere seemed thin and the night stars shone from above, the distant red glow of the lava flows fading to a dull reminder of the carnage i was leaving behind me.
eventually the climb slowed but the path continued and the stairs began to turn downwards, the rock walls opened up into a dusty grey plain of old ash that had blown here from distant eruptions in the ashlands below, but it was cold up here and dark, and the fog parted and i saw in the distance a structure, not ominous and unnatural like the obsidian temple but a human structure, a distant farmhouse, but I had a feeling when i looked down the winding stairs at this house like i was looking into the blackness of a night that has a rapidly approaching tornado, totally invisible, the sight of this farmhouse gave me a sense of existential dread greater than even the obsidian temple had inspired. But i knew i had to keep going forward anyways. So, with despair in every step, i put one foot infront of the next and kept walking.
As i approached the house I realized its scale, it was not some small farmhouse, more of a manse, and the stairs on this path led straight to its roof where the stairs that had once led down from its top were gone. There was only a gaping black hole in the roof, my only way forward was into this abandoned structure, so with a heart full of fear i lowered myself down into pitch blackness.
I found myself in an ash flooded attic full of furniture like old spinning wheels and some misshapen objects with soot stained sheets over them, the room was so very cluttered with dillapidated old stuff that i could hardly navigate it. I kept bumping stuff then I froze, because on thr far side of the room i saw a sillouhette standing motionless. A feminine sillouhette that seemed like it moved slightly as I brushed against an old desk, causing a noise.
As she reacted, she turned towards me and I saw her face, and her mouth hung open, her jaw split in two, one half dangling and the other holding a malicious grimace.
She moved like a squid striking out from inky blackness at its prey, lifting up off her feet and drifting rapidly to me, her mangled jaw soon centering around my field of view as her face filled my vision and she grabbed the sides of my head, talking to me
"You have to pay for what he did to us, you have to see it all"
And she entered me, i just remember at this point in my dream my vision was full of motion, like she had possessed me and was flying me through the pages of her own history book, in a misty ashen blur of colors and shapes i found myself chopping wood in a dark forest with green leaves around, when a rage filled every fiber of my being and i turned towards a tent, gripping my axe as i swung it through the fabric, turning it on my first wife (in my dream i understood this to be the vision of the woman's husband when he murdered her with his axe) and splitting her jaw and head open rather than any log
I was crying abd begging to be left alone and allowed to leave when we swirled back into the attic, and the ghost was standing right there with inhuman stillness, i couldnt look away from her mangled face as she said "now you know what he did to me…" and she slowly disappeared into a small mist
I was deeply disturbed and crying and disoriented as i looked around the attic and saw a small wooden panel with some grey filtered light showing through it and i went that way, but as i did another ghost of a different women, her neck angled violently screamed at me and grabbed me and possessed me, now I was her husband, the same man with his second wife wringing her neck as she turbed blue
In this manner a series of murdered women ghosts possessed me, forcing me to witness their deaths from the poijt of view of their killer, all killed by the same horrible man in different violent ways, in total 7 stories of 7 murders of 7 dead wives, and each one whisming me to another part of this forsaken farmhouse where they had lurked waiting for whichever man was unlucky enough to enter this cursed homestead
My experience dreaming this was mostly an unsettling amount of vertigo during the dream and images of violence and these ghastly faces of ghosts filling my vision before flying me to another room where another ghost would stand motionless waiting to possess me, the entire time i felt like i was crying and falling from a very extreme height
Eventually though the last ghost released me from her possession and i stood in the kitchen room where she stood with me, her face blue from drowning in a bath tub, and she smiled at mr and spoke more gently than thr others had, she reached to take my hand but when i flinched and screamed she dropped her arm back down to her side and just smiled sadly at me
"Thank you"
And she and all other ghosts were gone and it was just me alone in this forsaken manse's kitchen, and i heard a sound i never expected, trickling water. So i walked towards it and found a back door on the ground level which opened easily, and i stepped outside and saw some white, ash-filtered sunlight and a sight that took my breath away, about 300 yards away was a running river with lush green trees and plants and a thundering waterfall, and i knew that my trials had passed as i walked out towards the end of the ashlands with my boots squishing in fertile muddy soil, and i woke up completely drenched in a puddle of my own sweat

I don't really no where to start. I feel I've lost myself, consumed with anxiety and guilt and fear and regret and I fear, this new fear, that it's going to be the end of me if I don't start to get it out in some way, shape or form.
I guess I'll begin at the beginning...
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I had a difficult childhood with fairly neglectful parents. A mother who openly expressed she never felt she really stepped into her mom shoes until she gave birth to my younger sister, who is three years younger than me. She is my only sibling. My mother told me when I was a kid that she "had to love me", but when my sister came around "she was finally a mother and over the moon", or simply "I always always wanted a girl". I'm not sure if this could be attributed to Post-partum depression, not that she ever researched that or was daignosed with it. That's probably just me trying to pardon my mother or something to the effect. She was 17 when she had me and I'm sure times were different then, my parents both were raised religious, father christian, mother mormon. Maybe their guilt. I ask myself why they brought me into this world if I wasn't wanted to begin with. Or, give me up for adoption to a set of guardians that would have loved me better. I know I was an accident and that's not what gets me down, I get that life be lifing and what happened happened. My difficulties stem from the feeling that my presence never gave my mother any sense of purpose, responsibility or love, or concern. She was emotionally unavailable to me virtually my entire life and I feel like that caused many issues later in my life and how I perceive myself and what I deserve. Coupled with the fact that my neglect met such extremes that I am frankly shocked that I was never picked up by child care services, maybe things were different in the 90's. I'm not sure, I was just a child then.
Much of my upbringing I didn't receive a lot of the things most people would consider essential. As a baby my crib was the sock drawer, then I grew large enough to have a closet, then slept on the floor of a walk-in closet, then I had a single bed from what I recall for maybe a year or maybe two years and I remember feeling metal springs poke me in the my ribs and I recall it being uncomfortable enough for me to move back to sleeping on the floor next to the ratty old used mattress my father found from who knows where. I remember feeling like I had to keep that secret, that the mattress they gave me was uncomfortable enough for me to sneak sleeping on the floor next to it. I think I was really afraid as coming across as ungrateful. My father came from a third world country, so the "gratefullness issue" was address frequently by my mom because "I don't have it even half as bad as what my father had to endure. And she was probably right. But it just silenced me ultimately, didn't put things into a mature context for me. I just learned that I can't complain about anything ever. Anyway, that trend didn't really change when I grew older. grade 9-10 I was sleeping on the living room couch so my sister could have privacy and a bedroom to exist in for herself - which I realize is important for an individual so I encouraged her to have the bedroom. Although I figured my parents expected me to do this for my sister regardless. I was okay with making sacrfices for those I love, it was instilled in me from a very very young age.
I do feel like my father took advantage of me in the form of labour as well, having to do custodial work with my father from 10pm to 3am, at two highschools I believe he was contracted, at that young age I honestly enjoyed just spending time with my father I think, working alongside him. When I was in grade 2 and 3 I had garbage bag duty for all the students bathrooms, and I remember loving snapping the bags open by rushing air into the bag and making it blow up like a baloon. I remember the scary unlit shadowy hallways that I couldn't perceive the ends of. No bodies to see, it felt eerie but exciting in a way - like it was a whole different world.
School was a different experience for me. It was very stressful, my parents had to move a few times a year because they would dodge rent or just generally be selfish with their dual income. They loved to party hard on the weekends. I remember wondering why my father did this to himself all the time. Hoping that we could spend quality time on a saturday, but he wouldnt get out of bed until just before dinner. I didn't really understand hangovers or alcoholism and how it meant our plans would get cancelled. I think I remember trying to wrap my head around willful self-poisoning for entertainment and how could that be more enjoyable then spending time with your son? I couldn't tell my mother why I was so sad about it. Why I didn't want to move again and again and again. Why I found it so difficult to make new friends everytime I had to switch schools. Why I couldn't just do one single full school year with one class of students. It was so hard and at the time, I didn't know anything different. It was so hard to make friends and I think it created this approach to making a "new family" of friends when I became a teenager and young adult.
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I remember always wanting to be a "good kid". The "best kid" for my parents. I feel like my parents attached this moniker to me that made things harder for me to mature into a rounded adult later in life. My parents always flaunted me as this point of accomplishment, the accomplishment that I was "so extremely well behaved". I would strive to be super polite, and a good host, try to help out when my parents had their friends over, literally fill their cups when the opportunity presented themselves. I think I did this because I must have made the conclusion that if I was quiet, super polite, helpful and useful then I had value. That I could be loved. That I could earn this love from my parents through acts of service.
I remember feeling like my sister and I had extremely different experiences growing up. When my parents were at work I took care of her, cleaned and cooked. one time my sister told my mom to eff off when she was 5 and I was 8. My mind was blown. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she had the bravery and courage to defy my mother. Looking back, my sister was just mirroring the language she learned from my parents from whenever they fought. I remembering seriously worrying and getting scared that my father was going to belt her, or use the coat hanger, which was his preference with me. I feel like my mom was always checked out and I'm hurt that she allowed my father to take his rage out on me. That my mom could care less about me being beat, but never my sibling. It was very confusing and difficult for me to process. Not that I really processed it much as a kid. I honestly just wanted to be loved and be the best child possible. Honestly though, 'm seriously so glad that my sister was spared all of that complete non-sense. I don't wish that on anyone in the world. There were some punishments where he would walk in and tell me to pull my pants down without explanation. I have memories of tearing up and saying I didn't know why this was happening, asking what I did wrong and he would just remind me that if I resisted then I would get it worse and to hurry up and get ready. My father has since apologized. I think it is how he was raised. I didn't know what to say in response, but I told him I loved him and it's in the past. But I don't know if I was being honest when I said that. My mother would still gaslight me to this day if any of this became topic of discussion, not that I'm guessing. A year ago she told me that much of my pained memories were false and this never happened. My father on the other hand typically stays pensive and unchallenging.
It seems so damned crazy writing all of this out, it feels like a heartbreaking novel and not my life at all. But it was and is my life. I have difficulties opening up and expressing my feelings and advocating for myself when the moments are true and appropriate to do so. I know it's the healthier way to communicate, but I was literally taught to stay quiet and be useful. Fast forward 20-25 years and I'm going to be 35 and I feel like just ending it all. Every year my birthday passes and I'll get a text from my family happy birthday. But they know I'm in a difficult place, they know I miss them, they know I love them and forgive them, I try the high road whenever I can but I just don't see the point anymore. they won't celebrate my life and existence, but they'll throw family gatherings for each other, birthdays, christmas, fathers day and mothers day.
On that note, another mother's day has recently passed and my mother never invited me over, I texted my father three weeks in advance in hopes of securing a time to come over and celebrate my mothers life with my family as a family. I felt particularly stung this mother's day when they celebrated and didn't text or call to invite me over. I live in the same small town so it's easy to hop over. I literally live three blocks away.
Anyway, my mother was diagnosed with cancer over christmas this year and I have been worrying for my mother ever since and thinking about my life with her and the mortal coil and the finite mount of time I may have with her. I feel like there is a large empty part in my heart that wishes my mother and I could go grab a coffee together. She can show me her ipad app art that she has been really excited about for a couple years now. She loves showing off her digital art and I love seeing her joy and how proud she is about her art. I just don't know why she couldn't feel the same for me, her only son. Maybe I'm just a her dissapointment.
I dropped out of highschool and left the family home when I was 16. I just couldn't work for my dad during the night AND go to highschool AND socialize. Something had to give. Unfortunately it was highschool and my parents didn't really care about that at all. They were just... fine with it. they supported my sister through college and she was fortunately able to graduate with a veterinary degree of sorts. she still lives with them now as she pays off her student debt, but I left and travelled and worked on music for over a decade so I admit that I was entirely out of the family picture for some time. But as I get older, not wanting to repeat the mistakes of my parents I fear that that is precisely what's been creeping up in my life.
five years ago I met the absolute most wonderful human being and I am so lucky to have my partner in my life. She and I are engaged now and set to be married. I hoped that the news would overwhelm my parents with excitement and joy. Maybe a facebook post about their son, share some family pictures or something. But they did nothing at all. I think they showed off pictures of the trip to Mexico that week instead.
I just don't really understand how I'm this unworthy of their love and unfortunately now I'm realizing that illusion that I am unworthy has infected my relationship with my fiance. I love her so much but when I can't fix everything in her life I feel like I am the failure and the guilt overhelms me so much and the guilt is such a strong motivator for me, and it usually motivates me into becoming the biggest doormat in the world. I've never worked harder for a relationship or invested this much energy. I feel she deserves it. But I don't advocate for myself. So I build up resentment. Like I clean the house constantly and work and help bail out of her bad spending habits and cover her rent without question and this and that. To be clear, she doesn't take advantage of me and that's not how I feel about it. But I do let this annoyance build up inside of me because I don't know how to communicate my feelings in a healthy way. I'm scared I'll lose the person if I speak up, or I'll be gaslit. Again, that's not my partner that gaslights. That's just generally how I feel I'll be treated if I open up with people. It all goes back to my childhood. It's affected every friendship and work relationship I've had since.
When I was 20-ish, 15 years years ago I did the classic, "seek the relationship that most comfortably fits into the patterns you experienced with your parents". And so I trapped myself in a horrific and extremely damaging relationship with a girl I'll call K. She has undiagnosed bipolaBPD, she would never seek help but self-medicate. She ended up in the hospital maybe four times for self-harming and this where she was considered to have these diseases by a few doctors on different occasions. Anway, it turned into a relationship of abuse and it wasn't exactly new territory for me. I was ashamed in that 8 year relationship. I wanted out so bad, but she would threaten to unalive everytime I tried to get away. Of course, some weeks would go by and i would get my hair pulled out of my scalp, a knife waving in the air in front of my face, spat in the face, kicked, punched, bit, a pot of freshly boiled ramen soup thrown in my face and eyes. What's worse is that I seeked police intervention on multiple occasions. Every single time the police visited, they talked me out of pressing charges, asking me " well if she doesn't have any place to go, then do you have a place you can stay at, or the shelter?". twice they talked me out of a restraining order, that legal proceedings would take forever. Adn de-escalting me from wanting to take measures to ensure my safety because she may end up on the street as a result. To this day, I absolutely wish I advocated for myself here and pushed for a restraining order. I'm so mad at myself for not doing so.
Unfortunately, fast forward a couple years into that relationship and one evening everything would finally hit the fan. I told her to never touch me again and I absolutely meant it. she had just yanked out the largest chunk of my hair to date, to the point where my scalp was bleeding and I could even see epidermal matter still attached to the folicle ends that were in her clenched fingers. My head bled a bit and I pushed her off of me. Telling her that I needed to leave, that I was walking to my secure jam space just a 10 minute walk away. It had a leather couch in a cold concrete basement, but hey at least I would be safe for the night and I could play my drums and try and blow off this anxiety and fear in a way that was safe albeit very noisy.
She hated that I wanted to leave and convinced herself I would never return. To be fair, that was the energy I had. I never wanted to see her face again and have her name on my lips after that night. So her tactic was simple, to threaten me with calling the cops and tell them that I violently pushed her. I called her bluff and said "go ahead and I will just tell them everything you've done - yet again. All I am doing is going to the space to sleep, I said, maybe play drums." She called the cops and told them she was pushed into a wall, and she felt very unsafe. Which yes, I did push her off me when she attacked me. In the past, I tried various tactics, to run away didn't work, she just always chased me down. Or sometimes I would just sit there while she was violent against me and I just "dissapeared" kind of like how I would when my dad used his coat hanger. This time, I just pushed her off of me, I was done with the relationship at that point and we both knew it. Anyway, she called the police, they arrived and when questioned I told them that I pushed her off of me in self-defence. I was drinking that night and it didn't help my case as I was arrested without question that evening and I was charged on the spot without question with domestic assault. It devasted me. I asked the police how this could happen lawfully. That she is an abuser and there is a history of this multiple times. That I've requested a restraining order. They explained that in quebec the laws are a little different and in the case domestic cases, if there is a male aggressor against a female, then the male is automatically charged to the fullest extent. I was absolutelyu devasted by this. I can't tell you the amount of fear and anger I felt in that jail cell that night.
I feel so incredibly betrayed by the justice system, keep in mind, this is law that from what I understand is only in Quebec, I was there for music at the time with an old friend whom I am no longer in contact with. I don't think the rest of the country operates under law in this way. Now I appreciate that they are vigilant about woman abuse victims, but the law shouldn't be this absurdly biased. It just doesnt feel just and fair to me. Covert abusers shouldn't be able to take advantage of the justice system in this way, but it happens.
It was an awful experience, I was homeless for a couple months afterward, not allowed to retrieve my belongings, so I lost all of my life "crap" that I had built up, years of hardwork and investment. I mention this because I realize later in life that I have intense collecting behaviour. maybe as a self-soothing behaviour. But I love building up collections of my hobby stuff as I have many and I feel they keep me regulated and it's a form of therapy for me. In any case, I lost everything when I left that whole situation. It sucks, although ultimately it's clearly best that I got out of that dreadful circumstance. I flew across the country to my hometown and to be closer to my family and old friends from highschool. It's quite a small town mind you.
Unfortunately, my classic tendency to hide and not advocate for myself created an opportunity for my abusive ex. A year following those events, despite me assuring her that I had to block her because I flew away to start a new life provinces away. That I wished her the best. That I even promised I would never tell a soul what she did to me. Not to mention that unfortunately we live in a society where nobody really has an ounce of sympathy for a male abuse victim. I had every intention to keep that promise, but she couldn't trust me ultimately. I think her logic was maybe to just beat her ex to "the punch". Kill or be killed or something like that. I don't live my life like that so I don't really know what her plan was. But she made a bunch of posts on various social media platforms for all of our mutual friends, music friends, coworkers etc. that the relationship was over and she was free. That she got out of a cycle of abuse and she was ready to start a new chapter of her life. She never used my name, just that she was glad she got away from her toxic and abusive ex once and for all.
It was exactly like that night a year prior, she threatened me with this outcome she could design for me, and I called her on her bluff by saying I was still going to block her and I can't control what she does with her life or how she conducts herself, but that I was out and to never contact me ever again. She made me regret that decision.
The posts she made that day got so many likes and support from so many of our mutual friends, even musician mates that were closer to me than her, and it absolutely destroyed me, not just internally but socially. I no longer make music anymore and it hurts to go outside into the world because it feels like everybody sees me as this monster. And still I don't have a voice to inform anyone otherwise - except my family and my fiance. I have no friends anymore. They all left my life with the belief that I did all of these horrible and awful things.
I just don't trust people anymore as a result and it's just caused me to become extremely bitter and depressed. I ruminate on the past, maybe in attempts to fix the past so I can move on. So I could do better, so I don't have to punish myself for my mistakes in the past. But it just reopens every emotional wound I have and they never get a chance to heal. That was maybe 7 years ago now and I'm still replaying these events in my head every single morning for about 1 - 2 hrs. Then I go completely numb for the majority of the rest of the day, shallow breathing, and the mildest sadness that mascarades as fatigue and disinterest.
There are some days where I seriously fear for the future and I just feel like every cruel soul will inherit this earth and that's the future, they built this world of suffering and they deserve to inherit it. Their toxic flag staked so deep into the earth in reclamation. The future isn't holding any seats for people like us. I'm so heartbroken and defeated. I feel like white-wolfing my fiance because she deserves better than this traumatized person that hides from the world. I feel like giving her my collection of collections so she can sell it all off and pay off her 10k of credit debt, then with this act of kindness I can go out not feeling like a guilt-ridden defeated loser. And leave on a high note.
When I'm alone, I get trapped in these ruminating cycles and it's the angriest I ever get. It's reached the point where I feel like I am actually reliving all this past trauma every morning and I can't do it anymore. I just feel like I am so at the end of whatever this ride was.
I don't have any friends anymore and everyone but my fiance thinks I am a monster and it's just unbearable.
I just don't even know. I am even afraid that someone will read this post and suss through all of this and make the connection. Then I'll get another new email or random throwaway account with an insta message that says "I told you you would never be able to get over me. You can move on, but you will never be able to erase the past. Never truly. You know where to find me."
It's haunting and it's poisonous. I just feel haunted and poisoned and I don't know if there is a snake oil potent enough or antitode true enough to get me back to the generous, lighthearted, energetic kid I once was.
To whoever was willing to read through all of this, thank you for hearing me out. I don't know what advice I am even asking for here. I'm hoping just speaking this out into the world in some way can alleviate this misery. I don't know.

I've never been that close with my dad. He was always the quiet type - not one to speak much but, at the same time, always spoke up whenever the moment required. We've fought a lot in the past. We never exchanged I love you's before. I don't think I've ever hugged him, ever. I think we have somewhat of a broken relationship but deep down I think we both know we obviously care about each other.
Recently, my aunt passed away. I was never really close to this particular aunt, either. But, I spent a lot of my childhood at her place and I have fond memories of those times as well.
Anyway, her funeral was today. The air was brisk and the skies were heavily clouded. What a way to start a funeral. I didn't really know how to act, honestly. I was sad about her passing but I hear conversation and laughter all around me as if this wasn't a funeral. Laughter seemed wrong. Why were people smiling? Isn't this supposed to be sad?
The funeral starts and it's somewhat of a Chinese-style funeral. Basically, I didn't really get most of what was happening but there comes one particular act. They had some old cardboard car and a line of those foldable plastic tables all in a line. They also had some makeshift cardboard hills for the car to drive over-- think a triangle shaped cardboard and meticulously crafted stairs on it.
My uncles and dad were towing this tiny cardboard car along this 20 foot stretch of tables. Over the humps, pausing occasionally for some chants from the orchestrators. I'm probably not describing this very well, but it was a particularly powerful moment. Amongst the chanting, the cacophony of sounds from the musicians (yes, cacophony - my ears were ringing), and the general tension in the room, I see my father. He's crying and people are handing him tissues.
I'm in my mid 20s and I've never seen my dad cry. Not even tear up a little. Instantly, I feel the tears welling. It was very visceral, and I was surprised by my own reaction to it. I always had seen my father as a strong figure, and always knew what to do. Sure, we fought a lot in the past but as I grew up there was always that silent respect as I, well, grew up into an adult.
Anyway, that's my random thought for the day.

Previous entry: https://www.reddit.com/buffy/comments/1cpqgdq/rewatchers_diary_season_2_episodes_5_to_7/
On today's menu: The Dark Age (2x8) and What's My Line (2x9-2x10).
Quick thoughts: The Dark Age is fine, What's My Line is part of why BTVS is great.
The Dark Age
Summary: Giles' dark past comes back to haunt him. It ends up hurting Jenny and distancing her from him.
This was fine. I didn't quite have the greatness which BTVS is capable of, but it was fine.
Random thoughts in a random order:

• In this episode we have the line "three down, two to go". In the next one we'll have "one down, one gone", and I think in the previous episode—Lie To Me (2x7)—there was also some take on "N down, M to go". These phrases always make me think of Willow's "one down" line in Villains (6x20), and the title of the next episode, Two to Go (6x21).
• Ooh, more Ethan! Ethan is great!
• I used to be a teenager, but it's a while ago. I liked Buffy's line near the end, which I'll inadvertently paraphrase: "I used to think of you as a grown-up [i.e. distant], now I discovered you're a person [i.e. relatable]". I think I must have forgotten the teen perspective and just how big the gap feels. The ages in my current friendship circles spans four decades. The scoobies at some point refer to Giles as "their grown-up friend". Huh, I guess I'm someone's grown-up friend, and my life feels less weird than the show is made to look on that occasion. Oh well, we have a shared recreational activity in real life, so the friendship that spans a big age range is genuine; affectionate as it is, Giles and the scoobies have more of a working relationship than a friendship. (In my book Giles hasn't fully stepped into the surrogate father role yet.)
• I guess I should talk about how this is a cautionary tale to young people about bad decisions in one's youth having the capacity to exact a price later in life. Uhm. It is.
• Hey, the morgue where Phillip (Deirdre's victim / transfer target) rises from the apparently-dead, is that the same morgue we saw in Never Kill a Boy on the First Date (1x5)? It kinda' looks like it.
• Yay for Willow being assertive towards Xander and Cordelia, "[either get to work, or] get the hell out of my library!"
• Poor Giles, having to once again face the fact that his actions got one of his friends killed, and now having to consider the fact that they may also get his love interest killed.
• Hey, does this feed thematically into the the way Buffy feels responsible for, in some sense, killing Angel (and making Angelus replacing him) in Surprise (2x13)? I think it might.
• Ooh: in this episode Angel saves Jenny. In Passion (2x17) Angel kills Jenny. (Yes, okay, Angelus.)
• Giles' irresponsible decisions almost got Jenny killed. Buffy's irresponsible decisions—unleashing Angelus—actually got Jenny killed.

What's My Line
Summary: Career day at school. The next slayer, Kendra, has a short enemies-to-rivals-to-friends with Buffy. Drusilla is restored while Spike is injured during the attempted escape, and Angel is injured during Drusilla's restoration ritual.
Oh boy, this is great. Random thoughts in a random order:

• Ooh, more Terminator references! Buffy is targeted for termination by (a) someone disguised as a police officer; and (b) a shapeshifting creature made of liquid metal maggots.
• Buffy is already doing uh supernatural community policing, so her as a police officer makes sense. I've not read the comics but I've heard she actually becomes a LEO. Her future as a LEO doesn't get much screen time, but I was still surprised by how much.
• But her actual career right now is being the Slayer, and Kendra shows Buffy how to do it by the book™.
• In that light, it's interesting that Buffy's determination increases a notch when she realizes it's personal: "no one messes with my boyfriend!"
• Willy! Ooooh I like Willy the slime ball.
• He suggests Buffy and Kendra might do "art photography, but naked". Buffy is 16 which is less than 18. Given SMG's age and look, Willy might have overestimated Buffy's age—but still, if such photography happened it would legally be ch*ld p*rn. I recall Buffy dismissing Willy with a disgusted face. I'm not sure how I feel about the show not commenting more strongly on this.
• On a lighter note (maybe), there was such a wonderful scene with Spike holding Drusilla in his arms and the two dancing after Spike talking about dancing on the slayer's grave. In Crush (5x14) Spike would happily dance with Buffy on Drusilla's grave. Between The Gift (5x22) and Bargaining (6x1-6x2), Spike is deeply troubled by the slayer having a grave. Oh how the tables will turn. And I guess in Chosen (7x22) Buffy is... not dancing, but definitely feeling a sense of relief, while standing atop the place where Spike is buried (the whole in the ground that used to be Sunnydale).
• Spike and Drusilla is an incredibly sexy couple. May I join in, please?
• Oz and Willow, while not yet a couple, are so cute together.
• Xander and Cordelia kiss. They are sooo awkward together.
• Buffy touching and kissing Angel in vamp face at the skating rink: the music makes it appear all romantic and stuff, suggesting that she's mature enough to see the man hiding below the monster's exterior. But really—I think—she's too blinded by hormones to notice the monster and the monstrous pile of red flags.
• Speaking of which, "We have this thing at school / Career day? / How do you know? / I lurk", that came across as somewhat stalker-like behavior to me. When Buffy tries to read Angel's mind in Earshot (3x18) out of jealousy, Angel says "[just ask]". Why doesn't Angel just ask what's going on in Buffy's life, then?
• Drusilla has been wearing her white dress the whole time, which I associate with purity and innocence. When at the end she's restored to her full strength and thus capacity for evil she's wearing all black. A nice contrast.
• Drusilla's white dress makes me think of a bridal gown. I think there ought to be some joke about a vampire couple staying together "till death do you part", but I haven't quite nailed it yet.

Updated episode tier list:

• S-tier: 7
• A-tier: 9 10
• B-tier: 3 6 > 1
• C-tier: 8 > 5
• D-tier: 2 4

For context, I’m a 25yo female, that comes from a mixed background (my mother 56F is a white woman from southern Europe, my father is from the Balkans and migrated to my country when he was younger). This is relevant and you will understand later.
I moved away from home as soon as I could when I was 18 after a not so good childhood, and currently live in another European country. My parents are divorced, my father is not really in the picture, I keep in touch with my mother on a daily basis and come visit her and the rest of the family once or twice a year. We never had the best relationship but since I moved out it improved a lot. I’d say we get along better when I’m far away from home.
Anyway, back to the reason of this post. I’ve been seeing this guy for more than a year, he’s great, we’re slowly getting to know each other and see where this is going. We are not in a rush but of course this is a relationship and I felt it was time to tell something more to my mother. I’ve always been quite open about my relationships and people I was dating, however since getting older I started being more private as I don’t think it would be good to mention every failed date to my mother (lol). We come from a typical small town in southern Europe, where people are bigots and close-minded. The news on the tv are constantly complaining about immigrants coming to our country and jadajadajada. The government is mostly right wing. So yeah, I didn’t really mentioned much about this guy, first of all cause I’m trying to keep it private but also because I could imagine her reaction, since she’s the standard average middle age woman that you find on Facebook without much culture. She is ignorant not as an insult but as in the real sense of the word: she ignores, she doesn’t inform herself and just believes whatever the media tells her.
Anyway, she suspected I was seeing someone for a while, I never really said much but I’ve been giving her a few hints in the past weeks and now that I came back to my hometown for a week she started being very curious. The day after I arrived we were casually talking before bed and she just kept asking “C’mon, don’t you have a pic of this guy? Show me! C’mon c’mon! I’m your mother!” so, one side of me didn’t wanna show her, the other one was excited cause at the end of the day I’m proud of my relationship and I was happy to tell her more (maybe naively hoping for a good outcome…). So without thinking much I showed her one of the best pictures of him. Literally in the millisecond while I was showing her the picture she said something like: “hope it’s not a n****” (WHATTT???).
At that point the phone was already on her face. It was done. She said it, and at the same time she saw the picture. She was speechless and I was too. I was ashamed of her. And sad.
She didn’t say anything more for the following 10 minutes, she went to her room and I went to mine. Afterwards she just asked “does he even work?!” And I told her “don’t worry about it, he’s better off than the both of us” just to make her shut up about that question that I found so disrespectful. This made me just so sad, and disappointed.
But the worst had yet to come. We didn’t speak much about it at all until today.
We were having a casual conversation during the afternoon when the relationship topic came out. In particular, we were talking about how your partner should improve your life and not making it worse, meaning he should make you happy, he should bring good positive vibes, get along etc. that’s what I was thinking and referring to. But she started being very materialistic, she asked me “so, in which way is he improving your life?!” in a very aggressive sassy tone “I don’t see anything changing“ she said. I was mentioning that he makes me happy when the conversation degenerated. All sort of things came out of it.
She started by saying:
“well, I truly hopes this will be just a friend and you will keep it like that”
then she continued with:
“please take birth control precautions before you regret it”
“don’t come to me later saying I didn’t stop you”
and the cherry on top was:
“I would have preferred if you told me you were a lesbian cause at least that is cool nowadays”.
I was speechless and I still am.
I asked her what is it that she doesn’t like and what is she basing her opinions on, since she literally knows nothing about him. She couldn’t answer. She kept repeating the same things over and over and she also said she would never want to meet him.
I have to mention that the few guys she met that I was dating were of different cultures, but she never had a problem with them, I guess because the skin color was the same… and in her mind there are probably foreigners of Class A, B, C…
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I neither expected such a bad reaction.
All this hurts me so much.
I don’t know what to do.
In my mind it neither makes sense cause she married an immigrant but it seems like she never really came to terms with it, she never really accepted it. For instance, I know nothing about my father’s culture, I never learned the language or interesting facts about it because nobody ever thought me anything about it. I only learned about my mother’s culture, the one of the country I lived in. And I always felt out of place because this country is extremely racist. The fact that my father was not a good husband or father has nothing to do with where he comes from. If a person is an idiot, is an idiot no matter what. And I told her this when we were talking. The fact that she had a bad experience doesn’t mean that I will, just because I’m seeing someone from a different culture. I also explained to her that I am myself an immigrant, since I’m living in another country. But it doesn’t seem to click in her head. And when I told her, to her face, that she is indeed racist, she obviously denied it, because how can she be racist if she married an immigrant herself?
And of course during today’s conversation there was some victim behavior on her side, because every time I come back here it’s certain that we are gonna fight and every time it happens I say stuff like “let’s see when and if I will come back again!”. So she was bringing that up cause the other day I said “the first racist comment I hear I’m gone”. She mentioned that, saying I don’t care about her, that she has to beg for me to call her (mind you, we write good morning, good night, text here and there during the day and we talk on the phone 3/4 times a week…). She even said that “she lost me already the moment I left”. Honestly, I don’t know what else more than this she expects from me if what I do is not enough already.
I don’t really know how to handle this. And I’m also just venting and need some support. I wished we could all act as adults, respect each other, have a normal relationship. Am I asking for too much?!
Any advice is highly appreciated.
I’ll be stuck in her house for the next two days and finally I’ll leave on Thursday. I want her to think about her actions and realize where she did wrong before I leave. I don’t wanna put this under the carpet cause it’s unacceptable.
TL;DR: my 25F mother 56F doesn’t approve of my boyfriend 28M just because of the color of his skin. Her opinion is based solely on a photo I showed her and at the same time she plays the victim and claims she lost me the moment I moved abroad and I don’t care about her even if we talk everyday. I wished there was a way to behave like adults. Advices on setting boundaries?

Hello, I'm sorry if this will seem formal I don't blog a lot anymore but maybe with this topic, I might since I'm just finding my path in this community. Through my short months in Wicca, it seems I have deities that come and go with ease. my longest relationship or connection with a deity would be with the Norse god Loki, he has recently left my side. But however, I work with spirits, I help them move on or help them cope or come to terms with their death. Just recently I had a spirit of a child who just wanted to go home with a kind family (this spirit was gentle and caring for others), so I agreed to help them after many questions and realizing that they were so sweet and died a very sad and sudden death that I agreed to help them attach to something to go home with someone (I work in a thrift shop) they chose a doll and was later taken home that day, they looked so happy. After this event about a week or so later, I have a dream where the room is pitch black like a void with very faint sounds of people talking and/or screaming it shifted as I looked around. However, all of a sudden a bright light of green and gold and a figure that was in the shape of a man with a head of a jackal. The figure would look around and bend down as if greeting someone before looking straight up at me, in a flash, the figure had gotten closer allowing me to fully see that this figure was the Egyptian god Anubis, he tilted his head slightly to one side before I suddenly jolted awake. This dream has left me so confused, that I cannot figure out what Anubis would want. If he wanted to work with me together on something or to show me something about the spirit world. I need some help with this if anyone could explain what this possibly means or if someone could help me understand or help me see the signs of a deity trying to work with me or show me something.

Tw: family death and emotional abuse/neglect
I hate venting online as it’s futile and embarrassing for me (no one has to feel this way. This is just my own personal view that is mine and only mine) So, I will probably delete this soon for I also hate showing weakness to strangers since it always leads to more abuse it seems and i am often weary of others. So, with this, I’ll try and open up even if it’s temporary.

A bit of backstory I guess. My mother died when I was 7 which left behind a hole that needed to be filled for dad and I. She, the step “mom”, came along to help us for she struggled with a divorce of an abusive ex husband. She had issues, as you would expect, yet here I thought of her as someone I could get along with, to play with, to be around when things got bad, and all the things a little kid would think. At first, everything was fine, I even had silly nicknames for her that she “enjoyed” she responded with kindness to these (one was care bear, another was pumpkin because it was fall and she liked the smell, the others I don’t remember) and I remember how happy I was when she liked the little nicknames. Since it was the beginning, I would want her over often as I wanted someone to become a person I could look for as a mom but not as a replacement to my actual mom who recently died during that time. I liked her. 

Alas these things don’t get a happy ending, as with time, dad got more ill. During this time she would be by his side more (which is totally understandable, I would too for my lover I didn’t show jealousy during this time but support as I got to spend more time with my “sister”) and it slowly evolved to hospital visits. I would slowly pick up being a “parent” for her disabled daughter when I was 9/10/11 (can’t remember exact age, sorry). This was because she would go out with dad to spend time with him, go to the other room to isolate from us (either needing alone time or to help him. Not my business), be with him for hospital stays, etc. I was used to this since I was accustomed to helping my dad with his medical issues and helped him get ready for “life” by the time I was late 7/early 8 due to his own health failing as well.
Hop years later. After problem and after problem I had gotten in with her and vice versa I realize my step mother never genuinely cared about me. I know it takes two to tango and it’s partly my fault, I get where I fell in my faults and I’ve accepted them as my lessons in day to day life. I’m not perfect. As I became more reclusive to her as she showed a lack of accountability (and to this day, she won’t admit and see why it was so wrong for her to do things that were heavily against me) I was then always the scapegoat as she showed love and gushed over her actual kids (this was always a issue, I just didn’t think about it as a little kid and I got “bratty” when I got older as i began to recognize the “unfairness”). My achievements were worthless and often met with a “you should’ve already been good at that”, “you should know better by now”, or “that should already have been done if it was something important to you”. The typical “you aren’t good enough” wearing different clothes.
The feelings of being useless had already creeped in by the time I was 10/11 so this was going on for a long time (along with many other issues that I’m not gonna get into). Even as I got nearly straight A’s in college I was never praised except by dad (who unfortunately died when I was early 19. I miss him to this day). I know I should not have sought out praise, especially if I was grown, but I would’ve loved a “good job” from her… I know that’s silly but it would’ve been nice to be seen as her actual kid worthy of love and being seen that way just a little. I know my pesky teen years didn’t help but I was still her kid in some capacity but I was treated like a punching bag. All because she had her own jealousy and hate for me. (Even her own kids called her out on how she treated me, nothing changed from her.)
Now with no family left except a few aunts, she tried everything she can to ensure I don’t become independent (I don’t wanna talk too much about it, I’m too tired plus this post is getting rather long as it is).
The parts that hurt the most were: She refused my safety from my childhood to adulthood. She never cared what truly happened to me it seems.
Never really paid attention to me unless to berate me which was done usually in the form of gossiping to others. Plus attempting to embarrass me in front of others so when my teenage self got upset she can use my reaction as “proof” and to “justify” herself, sometimes trying to attempt it to adult me as she smiled and snickered about it. Thankfully most adults who were older took pity and even commented on how arrogant and awful she seemed as a person (adult me, they never did anything about teenage me which I get, I fell for her tricks that made me look bad. Happy I learned that lesson young, at least there is that).
She snooped around my room and life to gossip to her kids about me on how much of a failure I was and how disgusting of a person I am. Then got mad when I isolated or kept my life very secretive.
She would find issues with me just to try to make my dad hate me which thankfully it failed. I’m unsure if this was a attempt to further isolate me because I wasn’t a part of her “actual kids”. I don’t know and I’m too tired to know, it’s done and over with I can vent about that in therapy. However she sadly was successful in getting him to yell at me. The worst part of the yelling is that she would watch me cry or go to the other room to listen rather than just leaving me alone. I now realize it was a way for her to “get off” I believe.
When she realized she couldn’t control my life she tried hiding food from me as I was early 20’s because she had “control issues with me” (her words not mine). I didn’t like things going to waste so I’d eat nearly expired foods often and she would get pissy that I was “stealing from her”.
She gossiped to strangers about how I never do anything with myself and suspected I was just a useless failure. (I was in college with a job, thanks.)
When I did finally snap from the times she would treat me poorly she held on to it. I guess to put it, think of me over reacting I get I did wrong and I learned my lesson but when she snapped with a over reaction or something really hurtful she expected to be forgiven.
She also would steal from me and blame me (but would expect me to keep my hands to myself when I was hungry and didn’t have the time or funds to get food… this one still bothers me but I will talk in detail of this to my therapist not here as I’m tired and the post is already long enough).
All I wanted was a mom to care but I guess I couldn’t get that because the one I got died when I barely got to know her. There is more to say but I think that is all of us here, too much to say about someone who was supposed to love us. My apologies if my post is in shambles I never really let anything out like this so I’m sure I kinda sound “childish” but like- I really hate Mother’s Day and I just wanted to let it out, even if I delete this later.

For context, I’m a 25yo female, that comes from a mixed background (my mother 56F is a white woman from southern Europe, my father is from the Balkans and migrated to my country when he was younger). This is relevant and you will understand later.
I moved away from home as soon as I could when I was 18 after a not so good childhood, and currently live in another European country. My parents are divorced, my father is not really in the picture, I keep in touch with my mother on a daily basis and come visit her and the rest of the family once or twice a year. We never had the best relationship but since I moved out it improved a lot. I’d say we get along better when I’m far away from home.
Anyway, back to the reason of this post. I’ve been seeing this guy for more than a year, he’s great, we’re slowly getting to know each other and see where this is going. We are not in a rush but of course this is a relationship and I felt it was time to tell something more to my mother. I’ve always been quite open about my relationships and people I was dating, however since getting older I started being more private as I don’t think it would be good to mention every failed date to my mother (lol). We come from a typical small town in southern Europe, where people are bigots and close-minded. The news on the tv are constantly complaining about immigrants coming to our country and jadajadajada. The government is mostly right wing. So yeah, I didn’t really mentioned much about this guy, first of all cause I’m trying to keep it private but also because I could imagine her reaction, since she’s the standard average middle age woman that you find on Facebook without much culture. She is ignorant not as an insult but as in the real sense of the word: she ignores, she doesn’t inform herself and just believes whatever the media tells her.
Anyway, she suspected I was seeing someone for a while, I never really said much but I’ve been giving her a few hints in the past weeks and now that I came back to my hometown for a week she started being very curious. The day after I arrived we were casually talking before bed and she just kept asking “C’mon, don’t you have a pic of this guy? Show me! C’mon c’mon! I’m your mother!” so, one side of me didn’t wanna show her, the other one was excited cause at the end of the day I’m proud of my relationship and I was happy to tell her more (maybe naively hoping for a good outcome…). So without thinking much I showed her one of the best pictures of him. Literally in the millisecond while I was showing her the picture she said something like: “hope it’s not a n****” (WHATTT???).
At that point the phone was already on her face. It was done. She said it, and at the same time she saw the picture. She was speechless and I was too. I was ashamed of her. And sad.
She didn’t say anything more for the following 10 minutes, she went to her room and I went to mine. Afterwards she just asked “does he even work?!” And I told her “don’t worry about it, he’s better off than the both of us” just to make her shut up about that question that I found so disrespectful. This made me just so sad, and disappointed.
But the worst had yet to come. We didn’t speak much about it at all until today.
We were having a casual conversation during the afternoon when the relationship topic came out. In particular, we were talking about how your partner should improve your life and not making it worse, meaning he should make you happy, he should bring good positive vibes, get along etc. that’s what I was thinking and referring to. But she started being very materialistic, she asked me “so, in which way is he improving your life?!” in a very aggressive sassy tone “I don’t see anything changing“ she said. I was mentioning that he makes me happy when the conversation degenerated. All sort of things came out of it.
She started by saying:
“well, I truly hopes this will be just a friend and you will keep it like that”
She then continued with:
“please take birth control precautions before you regret it”
“don’t come to me later saying I didn’t stop you”
and the cherry on top was:
“I would have preferred if you told me you were a lesbian cause at least that is cool nowadays”.
I was speechless and I still am.
I asked her what is it that she doesn’t like and what is she basing her opinions on, since she literally knows nothing about him. She couldn’t answer. She kept repeating the same things over and over and she also said she would never want to meet him.
I have to mention that the few guys she met that I was dating were of different cultures, but she never had a problem with them, I guess because the skin color was the same… and in her mind there are probably foreigners of Class A, B, C…
I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I neither expected such a bad reaction.
All this hurts me so much.
I don’t know what to do.
In my mind it neither makes sense cause she married an immigrant but it seems like she never really came to terms with it, she never really accepted it. For instance, I know nothing about my father’s culture, I never learned the language or interesting facts about it because nobody ever thought me anything about it. I only learned about my mother’s culture, the one of the country I lived in. And I always felt out of place because this country is extremely racist. The fact that my father was not a good husband or father has nothing to do with where he comes from. If a person is an idiot, is an idiot no matter what. And I told her this when we were talking. The fact that she had a bad experience doesn’t mean that I will, just because I’m seeing someone from a different culture. I also explained to her that I am myself an immigrant, since I’m living in another country. But it doesn’t seem to click in her head. And when I told her, to her face, that she is indeed racist, she obviously denied it, because how can she be racist if she married an immigrant herself?
And of course during today’s conversation there was some victim behavior on her side, because every time I come back here it’s certain that we are gonna fight and every time it happens I say stuff like “let’s see when and if I will come back again!”. So she was bringing that up cause the other day I said “the first racist comment I hear I’m gone”. She mentioned that, saying I don’t care about her, that she has to beg for me to call her (mind you, we write good morning, good night, text here and there during the day and we talk on the phone 3/4 times a week…). She even said that “she lost me already the moment I left”. Honestly, I don’t know what else more than this she expects from me if what I do is not enough already.
So I don’t really know how to handle this. Any advice is appreciated.
TL;DR: my 25F mother 56F doesn’t approve of my boyfriend 28M just because of the color of his skin. Her opinion is based solely on a photo I showed her and claims she lost me.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/ThrowRa-Alergy posting in AITAH
Concluded as per OOP
1 update - Medium
Original - 9th May 2024
Update - 10th May 2024
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AITAH for telling my bf that his daughter is not allowed in my apartment because she doesn’t stop smuggling peanuts in?
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I can’t have any contact with peanuts and I am terrified of them due to some bad experience ms ending up in the hospital. I have my shots now on me all the time. It is not exactly airborne but I could have irritation and if it for example touch something that had been in contact with peanuts i could have swollen eyes and itchy nose and throat. Ingesting is fatal.
She is 14 and has no respect what so ever for my anxiety. My bf and I moved in and she lives with us every other week. Now I told my bf that I don’t want her here because she is not respecting my boundaries. But that I understand that he doesn’t want to live with me in that case we could revert back to him being with me when he doesn’t have his daughter. He got very upset because he said that he loved me and wanted a real relationship and to live in one home.
So I told him that maybe he should be with someone who isn’t allergic then. He thinks I am being very unfair. He said well, she will probably hate the next one too and the next and the next because she wants her mom and me to be together again so it wasn’t “me specifically” that she dislikes. I said that maybe he needs to take a break from dating then until she is onboard but he said that he couldn’t be single just because his daughter wants him to. Before me he was single for 6 years and that wasn’t good enough.
Before we decided to move in together, we have done some “trial” living together and never once did his daughter do anything about the nuts. But now for 4 months she has always peanuts with her. I don’t know why she is doing this. I thought we were cool. She just smirks and says maybe if you are so allergic, maybe you’re not meant to survive(a stand up comedy bit from Louis CK)
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Comments
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ERVetSurgeon
NTA but you need to leave this relationship. She thinks it is funny and he doesn't care. The amount of disrespect for your health is amazing.
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CruelxIntention
This. He’s allowing this instead of getting to the core of it and putting the child in therapy where she clearly belongs. She’s plenty old enough to know this can kill someone and to have complete disregard over that shouldn’t be overlooked. You may love this guy but I’m betting you love breathing more.
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WonderingGemini84

"You may love this guy but I'm betting you love breathing more."

THIS!!!
You can not love someone when you're dead.
The boyfriend doesn't seem to realise how serious "the no peanuts"-thing is. This is a non-negotable. Your home should be your safe space, she doesn't respect that and he doesn't hear you (or doesn't care enough)
Throw them out OP!!!
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weeperOfChimneys
NTA, she has all but said she's attempting to kill you with peanuts. Quoting a comedian doesn't make it funny or acceptable. He hasn't bothered to search her and divest her of the nuts when he picks her up either.

OOP: He offered this as a suggestion. Visitation before she entered my apartment but I don’t want this kind of life. I was fine only seeing him on his weeks off. But I understand that he wants something more permanent than meeting every other week so he probably should find another woman

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YoghurtSnodgrass
She would probably just hide peanuts around his place for you to hopefully come in contact with. Just break up. His kid is trying to kill you.
Where is she even getting all these nuts from? Is her mom buying them for her? Does she buy them from a vending machine at school? How crazy is the little turd?
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**Judgement - NTA*\*
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Update - 1 day later
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Hi everyone! Thank you so much for really caring about a stranger with a dilemma. I was glad that I wasn’t wrong in my guts. I told my bf that I wanted to break up.
He was very sad and tried to reason with me. He suggested that we could live separately. His daughter will soon be an adult. I told him that being 18 doesn’t guarantee that she leaves the nest nor that he stops being a father either. Any time she could come across hardships and wants to move home and she needs to find that home. She couldn’t have it with me.
And about living separately, while it is fine now and some few years ahead. What about the future?
He was silent and listening to me. I felt overwhelmed because I love him. He said that the only way his daughter will be happy is when he is alone. She is in therapy but she has not shown any regards for her father or his life. She seems to not see him as an individual with feelings. He is just a father. I didn’t know what to tell him and just said that she probably needed time to grow up.
Until he moves out, his daughter is not allowed to be in my apartment. She called and threw a tantrum about her father choosing me instead. That she has the right to live with her father every other week and this shouldn’t change. I didn’t say anything, they need to fix this as a family, I am not a part of this family anymore.
He rented his apartment for a year’s contract so I don’t know how he will manage to find a new or terminate the lease so he could move back to his old apartment. Anyway he is staying here for a couple of months.
I am very sad that this beautiful relationship has come to an end. But I need to think about myself now.
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Comments
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he_nooch73
Know you made the right choice for you, your health, your safety. As someone said in your other post ‘you may love him, but you probably love breathing more’. I think you’re right about his daughter never accepting his partners. He needs to address this with her in therapy. I hope her therapist knows about the peanuts because her behaviour is truly disturbing. I’m so sorry your relationship had to end.
Commercial-Ask3416
I feel so bad for you and your boyfriend. I feel like he is stuck between a rock and hard place regarding his daughter. I know people are saying he should discipline her or this and that, but it sounds like it wouldn't work and that she would likely escalate. I work with kids like her. Hoping her not being able to live with her dad the next few months will be a wake up call for her but in my experience I doubt it. Good luck to the both of you, especially him as he has to deal with the fallout. Not your monkey, not your circus anymore.
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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

Caution: Long Post
The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. is without doubt and still is to this day one of the most influential, powerful, and iconic figures in American history due to his steadfast and nonviolent commitment in the fight for Civil Rights, Equality, and Justice during Jim Crow Segregation in the United States. The highlight of his career as an activist came in 1963 in which he delivered his famous "I Have a Dream" speech in front of Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C. in which he envisioned a nation in which his children will be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character. This resulted in the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to be passed. Even after his assassination in 1968, his legacy inspired many similar Civil Rights Movements around the world.
Today, Martin Luther King, Jr. is hailed by both sides of the American political sphere as a beacon of hope on how to fight for justice and equality for all during turbulent times. But it's the Conservatives who constantly claim that they truly support him and follow his dream, especially in modern times and they've expressed it in a rather whitewashed and partisan fashion. The most obvious being their use of his "I Have a Dream" speech by quoting the one line that has often been cherry-picked and misinterpreted quite a lot in which they judge people not by skin but by their character. The main reason they do this is to give them the appearance that they are colorblind as their way of opposing racism. And in doing so, they consistently criticize Liberals of trying to divide the country into special interest groups and promote favoritism. As a result, they always claim that Dr. King is a Republican, let alone would've been one in this era given his views, along with the fact that he was a Christian. His niece, Alveda King even emphasized it herself.
Some of the ways that Conservatives try to supposedly live up to Dr. King's "colorblind" dream is by opposing supposed "Wokeness", Critical Race Theory, and the practice of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion everywhere. They also express it by opposing Affirmative Action and the use of racial quotas when it comes to applying for schools, universities, and jobs because they believe it causes Reverse Discrimination. In terms of nonviolence, Conservatives express their disapproval of the Black Lives Matter movement. On the basis of Christianity, Conservatives believe that Dr. King supported a fixed moral code as indicated in his Letters from Birmingham Jail since he led with love and not racial hatred by changing the lives of people and not the laws itself, along with the notion of self-sufficiency. Seeing all this, it seems like Conservatives are really desperate to prove how much America has progressed in this post-racial world in order to debunk accusations that it isn't a racist country and that's why they always prop up Dr. King by claiming that they follow his dream and will continue to do so. Well.....up until now.
During this year's Martin Luther King Day, a string of prominent Conservative activists and organizations suddenly turned on him. Starting off with Charlie Kirk of the youth Conservative movement Turning Point USA, who launched a blistering anti-MLK campaign in which he supposedly dispelled the alleged myths surrounding his popularity. He accused Dr. King of being a "bad person" and that his "sainthood will cause Black voters to realize it's being used against them to suppress the individual." He even went further by stating that "we made a huge mistake when we passed the Civil Rights Act in the 1960s" accusing it as "a way to get rid of the First Amendment". A while ago, the organization marketed the Conservative image of Dr. King when they sold $55 T-Shirts with his name as well as stickers of him with the words "Let Freedom Ring". Kirk was later joined by the Daily Wire's Matt Walsh who accused him of being a "communist". In fact, he railed against Dr. King a few years ago by accusing him of being a Womanizer, Adulterer, Plagiarizer, etc. Coming after Walsh was Human Events editor, conspiracy theorist, and fellow Turning Point USA alumna Jack Posobiec, who labeled Dr. King "a God of the Left" and stating that "the real legacy of the 1960s was enshrining Racial Discrimination and Race Consciousness into the Federal Bureaucracy." And finally, a popular Conservative Twitter account called "EndWokeness" called Dr. King "a Racial Marxist" because he "did not support a Colorblind Meritocracy" after it cited his quote on Wealth Distribution. What's even worse is that even non-White Conservatives hate him. Two examples include a commentator named Vince Everett Ellison and former football player and sports columnist, Jason Whitlock. The latest editions to the lineup of Black Guilt Conservatives, they railed against Dr. King and the passing of the Civil Rights by stating that they worsened the Black community by drifting them away from God into "Democratic Dependency". They even accused him of the same crimes as Walsh did.
With the sudden change in tone and emphasis from the Right against Dr. King, you have to ask yourself why they're doing this and what caused them to believe this way. And this is not an extremist fringe of the Right that some would expect to hear from. All of these are Mainstream Right-Wing Figures who have direct lineage to the GOP, including the current presidential nominee, Donald Trump. That's as Establishment you can get. Their remarks have been criticized by a lot of people from both sides and surprisingly by some Black Conservatives. One of them was Pastor Darrell Scott, a former faith advisor of Trump, who these days, is one of a few Black Conservatives who has been calling out other Black Conservatives for tearing down their own race in order to elevate their status among others, a very notorious habit of them. He criticized Kirk for inspiring a Hitler Youth. Another was Kimberly Klacik, who in 2020, gained viral for her campaign video stating that Black Lives don't matter to Democrats when she was running for Maryland's 7th Congressional District following the death of civil rights leader, Elijah Cummings, who was the incumbent. She criticized Kirk for his remarks stating that his rhetoric will prevent Blacks from voting Republican. Even with that said, there have been instances in which Conservatives themselves have questioned the Civil Rights Act and many of them have been pretty negative. If you check out other Conservative websites and especially here on Reddit, many of their criticisms echo the same sentiments as those Pundits stating that it was unconstitutional and that in infringed on the First Amendment, particularly the Notion of Freedom of Association.
That being said, there is some silver lining to this. Now, that they exposed themselves for what they really of think Dr. King, I think it's time for them to admit that they never really liked him in the first place, let alone understood who he really was and what he really stood for. In fact, they never really liked him at all. All they did was whitewash him and cherry-pick his ideas and speech for own Partisan Agenda. Dr. King constantly talked about the notion of Black Pride and campaigned about the need for Reparations. He also supported Affirmative Action stating in 1965 that "a Society that has done something special against the Negro for hundreds of years must now do something special for the Negro. Dr. King realized that our society was created in a way that managed to disadvantage the many for the benefit the few, and that America's Racial Hierarchy was connected to its Class Hierarchy. He also had political beliefs that manifested through both Racial Reconciliation and Concrete Policy Changes that could help restructure and benefit a divided and unequal nation. This is the reason why he referred to himself as a Democratic Socialist as he wanted a "Radical Redistribution of Economic and Political Power". In fact, he argued that true Equality can only be achieved, not just through legal rights, but through an equal distribution of resources. This is evident when he said “Call it democracy, or call it democratic socialism, but there must be a better distribution of wealth within this country for all God’s children.” This is the exact vision that Vermont Independent Senator Bernie Sanders believed in. After all, he did participate in the March on Washington in 1963. In regards to Police Brutality, while Dr. King opposed violent protest, he did acknowledge that a riot is the language of the Unheard and that it came from a place of Desperation. In fact, in his "I Have a Dream" Speech, he stated that Blacks could "never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the Victim of the Unspeakable Horrors of Police Brutality." After all, he was hounded by the FBI, was called a Communist, broke the law in protest of race-based Segregation and Violence, was thrown in jail, advocated Protests and Sit-Ins, opposed White Rule of Society, and was assassinated for his Race and his views on Race. Regarding the quote about the Content of Character from said speech, Dr. King's daughter, Bernice King stated that using solely that quote diminishes the purpose of the entire speech because her father's dream and work included "eradicating Racism, not ignoring it."
If anything, this goes to show that is Dr. King were around today, he would be heavily criticized for being Woke, politically correct, a Communist, a Race Hustler, and a member of the Radical Left. And we all know that the Right hates those ideologies passionately. But here's the thing, he never considered himself a Democrat, let alone a Republican. He was an Independent as he felt that both parties are the same. And reducing his legacy to a single quote diminishes the gains that he fought for and believed in. This especially goes to a lot of Conservatives out there who claim to follow his lead using that quote because they interpret them in a way that benefits them today than how he meant them back then. For you to claim that he didn't care about Skin Color is like saying Susan B. Anthony didn't care about Gender. And to those Conservatives who now hate him, including Black, I hope you're OK with people getting treated unfairly, including your own. Who knew being seen as an Equal is a Negative in your eyes.

I don't know if anyone on here follows her, but she used to be a fairly positive recovery account. However, since her latest relapse, she has spiraled into behavior that fits more on this sub and it's sad to see. She will post a photo of her extremely emaciated body with a feeding tube and put a bunch of positive quotes in the caption tagging it with #Recovery and people are starting get fed up. As someone who is recovered, seeing her posts used to genuinely help me. Now they just trigger me.
Don't get me wrong, she is nowhere near as bad as some of the other people on here, but I'm worried about the direction she is headed.

About a month ago my husband physically assaulted me. We've been together for almost five years and just got married in February. I'm in my late twenties and he's in his early 40s. He was laid off a month prior to the assault and couldn't keep himself together, but things had been particularly rough for a few months before that as well. He has serious anger issues, is a bit (or a lot) of a narcissist, and drinks heavily most nights. I've learned how to deal with the mental abuse over the years (I've gotten pretty numb to it), but obviously it hasn't all been bad with him. On the night of the assault he provoked a fight with me and we argued (he was angry with my father over something that happened between them, I defended my father), but it escalated to him grabbing me from behind, slamming me into the ground, grinding my face into the carpet, and dumping his drink on me. He left bruises on my back and the side of my face. After I collected myself, I tried to confront him about what had happened that same night and he accused me of faking it, hitting myself to create the bruises, and he videotaped my crying while mocking me and telling me he was going to post it on the internet. He was drunk, but it was still such a surreal and ugly experience.
There have been a few occasions where he got physical during our relationship but never to this level. He's also done his fair share of punching and throwing things, but never actually directed any of that at me until a few months prior to this. He was angry and yelling and threw a roll of Haribo gummy's at my head. I dodged it and he missed, but I was stunned by the escalation. He mocked me and tried to convince me he didn't throw them at me, and said even if he did, it was just candy. It seemed like a dumb thing for me to be so freaked out by, but it stayed with me. It was something I thought about again after the assault, like I should have seen all of this coming.
I left the next morning after and have been staying with my dad. I've still spoken to my husband frequently and we did see each other once. For the first week or two he was incredibly apologetic and said all the right things to make me believe it wouldn't happen again. He almost convinced me that he was serious about change and I was starting to think that I should just go back to our apartment and move on. I've missed him a lot and I've felt completely alone without him. But then he started going back to his old ways. Shifting the blame to me, digging through the last five years of our relationship to find things to get angry at me for, and trying to draw comparisons to past (verbal) fighting with the physical assault he committed that night. He has expressed remorse and said that it won't happen again, but I don't know if he means it and I don't know if he even cares. I think he's too much of a narcissist to even try to examine how he could be at fault in this situation. It's frustrating and sad because I feel like in the back of his head he honestly believes that I'm overreacting and he's reached his "limit" on being apologetic. Anytime he's ever been wrong or has done something wrong, he lashes out to protect his own ego.
Our last few phone calls have been terrible. He even tried to say that I assaulted him and it was no different than what he did, referring to a night a couple years ago when I was trying to push his chest to get him out of my apartment during a big fight when he was refusing to leave. He has over 100lbs on me so I didn't have much of an impact. But in his mind, that's the same as what he did. Or at least that's what he told me while he was drunk and yelling at me on the phone. Lately he's gone back to insulting me, gaslighting me, and calling me crazy, and even with all of that, I'm STILL considering going back to him. I don't know if I'm just brainwashed at this point, but I keep making excuses for him and I keep doubting myself and my own accounting of things. He's always told me that I have a terrible memory and I'm "crazy" and whatever else he can say to twist the narrative in his favor, especially after he's blown up at me, and I guess it actually had an impact on me. I'm doubting all of my own feelings and all of the fear and anxiety I feel when I think about him. At times I try to blame myself for the things he's done. I feel disgusted by it.
Just for a laugh I should add that I'm a Canadian citizen and we were in the middle of filing a green card application on my behalf. I talked to my immigration lawyer and she gave me some good advice, but it's making this whole situation even more stressful and difficult. I would be lying if I said it wouldn't be easier to just go back to him instead of having to pack my whole life up and leave the country, which is really my only other option now. I honestly (and shamefully) do really miss him, but going back feels like I'm almost guaranteeing that the same abuse will start back up again. Maybe not physical abuse, but definitely all the mental abuse. It's already started and I'm not even back with him yet.
If anyone actually made it this far, thank you for reading. I really needed to vent and I've read a lot of posts on here that I can relate to.

I think this is a topic we should continuously bring up and discuss because I believe creating a base or home is such an important part of Fallout. After a long day of fighting off the monsters and horrors of Appalachia, we sometimes just want to come home to our homey base and admire our creation and hard work. The more I build, the more I feel restricted on what I can do and have to really plan and sacrifice some creative designs to meet with the building limitations. With the evermore additions to things we can add to our base, base building really needs to be refined. I'll add what we had last post and what suggestions were made as well. I'll also add more of what I've noticed from my return to the game. Previous post for reference.

Disclaimer of Understanding

Listen, I understand there could be hardware limitations in regarding to number of items or models that can be loading and unloaded at any time for the servers though we need to find some middle ground. A way to optimize the base limits to allow for more creativity. I also understand there could be programming limitations though refactoring some the base building limits is a positive change and worth while, especially to continue improving on this game long term (if that's what is planned to be).

Quick bullet points of Ideas from previous post

• Wallpaper to be painted on BOTH sides of the wall.
• For the love of god, increase base building limits, since we cant have two camps at the same time. I'm trying to decorate haha. Ideally id love a camp to build my vendor store and a home but hey..im good with either.
• why hard limit displays? I'm a collector, let me show off my collectables :( .. increase or remove display limits.
• Vendor should have a recently sold list. Like 5 items. Sometimes I miss the notifications :(
• allow me to mass select items and scrap. Unless I'm missing something I cant seem to find this feature anywhere.
• posters and wallpaper seem to have troubles meshing. Hopefully this could be fixed. I find posters hide behind wallpaper. Also..
• why does changing wallpaper remove everything off of wall. Sad times. Hopefully this could be changed.
• No-Atmosphere-4145 commented: I'd love for a feature where adding stairs won't cause the entire construction to become unremovable.
• Belickade commented: And how about an undo feature for the times you accidentally scrap a camp object.
• Similar to No-Atmospher-4145's post but I'll add it.. JakLynx commented: I’d love it if adding stairs to a vault wall door with vault door didn’t break the door and literally prevent you from entering.

Base Building Limits Extended

Lets talk about some Quality of Life updates that would help our base building experience. I'll dive deeper into some of the points that need some extra points to it.

For the love of god, increase base building limits, since we cant have two camps at the same time..

A further increase to maximum storage is not what we're talking about ( while this is something that can be improved upon), we want to be able to build more around our base, the total base building limit is what needs to be increased. Wires should not be apart of the base building costs in my opinion, this would help alleviate some room in the limit. I'm also hoping that wallpaper and things inside the displays don't count towards it but I have not personally checked.
To add more to the strain of base limits, is it possible to put things on shelves? I feel like they're so bare, id like to have them display items like display cases do.. that would be an amazing change!
Speaking of display cases..

why hard limit displays? I'm a collector, let me show off my collectables :( .. increase or remove display limits.

Lets increase these AND do not have the items count towards base storage. It sucks so much to see my STASH storage so high and be like "oh, its all the stuff on display" .. AND in the vendor. Putting items in your vendor or on display should remove them from your STASH. This would help the currently implemented STASH limit and it would also be such an improvement to the build system.
I also believe the limits on display shouldn't be towards the category but towards the item. Wall Displays should be separate than the floor glass display or any floor display to be honest. Even if you didn't increase the total limit for building displays and just separated how many you can make of each (mind you don't decrease the amount to 5 each..), this would improve our base building quality of life.
To further talk about displays, sometimes I can't place wall mounted displays because that wall doesn't have support below, though I was still able to build the wall. If the wall exists, the wall mounted display should be able to go on it.

And how about an undo feature for the times you accidentally scrap a camp object.

This is self explanatory though this is me emphasizing that this is huge. Big feature needed. Just a general undo last change is such a big help.

STASH Quality of Life Updates

These points were mentioned before but I'm going to mention them again. I understand that Fallout 1st is a good way for you to make some money on the stash limits, so upgrading the already set 1200 storage limit is unlikely BUT there are things that count towards stash that should not be. Such as:

• Vendor Items. These should not count towards our stash limit, its in the vendor..
• Displays. The item or weapon is being displayed outside my stash, therefore should not count towards my stash. This should be the case for all displays including bobblehead displays, Nuka-cola displays and so forth. This would alleviate so much space for some people and allow there to be more room without needing to increase the hard limit on STASH space.

That's pretty much it on that front.

New Ideas

Scrapping.
Scrapping my building item (generator, wall, lights) and losing most of its materials is a little frustrating. If I built it, I should get my materials back though I understand that is what storing items is and that you want to continue to have a game loop for gathering materials. So, its not a huge thing if this isn't changed in some way. Maybe I'm upset because I scrapped a generator to build it after I change the floor and didn't have enough materials anymore to re-build the generator. lol.
Fast Travel Spawn Point
This is a really cool request. Give us the ability to choose where players spawn when they fast travel to my base? Have one custom spawn point that must be put on a foundation or floor. Reason I say this is because my base is on a cliff and sometimes people or even myself don't spawn in my base but on the side of the cliff and then I have to fast travel again. It'd be nice to just have them spawn in a location that is preset so that no one falls or gets stuck.
I can see players setting up traps and what not with this, though I think the benefit outweighs the negative. There are many free fast travel locations if you get stuck and you only drop junk on death so? Maybe I don't know of other negatives from dying but I feel like most people want to show off their homes and not setup prisons lmao.
Shelves as displays
I talked about this earlier though shelves feel empty and I feel like my kitchen shelving would look nice if I can store some ingredients on them. Make it look more full and lively. Otherwise idk what to do with them lmao. Doesn't need to be crazy, just like fill the front side of the shelving unit and have 3 or 4 items to be displayed on the shelf. Also if this is implemented, items on shelves should not go towards STASH limits.
Renaming Power Chassis
I get confused on which power chassis hold what or displays what. Its like 7 power chassis in my stash. It'd be nice to name them lol.
Mark as To Be Scrapped
It'd be nice to mark items as "To Be Scrapped" so you know what you want to scrap, or even sell. That way you don't scrap something by mistake.
Guest Book
I remember reading somewhere an idea of having a guest sign book so that people that visit could sign saying like "I was here' or maybe "yolo 420" lol but it could also be emotes, stickers, pre-generated phrasing that people could sign with like a date saying when they signed it. Would be cool. Even something that could be done on the personal terminal?.

Conclusion

Look, I get it, some of these features are big asks but overall the quality of life improvements to STASH limits by removing the items displayed and in the vendor would be such a good change and one that wouldn't require too much refactoring of the CAMP code base (I hope). A lot of what was mentioned is nice to have but some are like really important to the ecosystem of building your base. Display limit segregation, removing wires as counting towards base limit, fast travel spawn point, undo button are just some to name that would bring big changes to the base building feature in this game.
Thanks for coming to my ted talk. Until next time!

I need someone to hear me please.
I feel like I’ve failed my parents. I feel like a failure. I barely went to school this year, completed the bare minimum to graduate. And yet here I am. Preparing to stand next to everyone else who tried. Who deserves their diploma.
My dad died in December of 2023. From those of you who have been on this subreddit long enough you’ll recognize my story. Shorty after, my mom was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, and has been in a nursing home slowly declining since February. I see her often. But everytime it’s like a stab to the gut. Seeing my mom in this much pain. So out of it, barely speaking a word. Only 47. It breaks my heart. Nobody deserves cancer. But my mom especially. Because she is the most selfless, brave, kind, loving woman I have ever met. She gave up so much in her life and never complained. Went through cancer 3 times. While my father made it all about himself. Worked her butt off for years, being basically the only income in my household while my dad spiraled into depression and alcoholism.
Don’t get it twisted. I’d do anything for my father to come back. I miss him everyday and love him dearly. But that doesn’t excuse the pain he caused me and my family when he was drunk.
Anyways I’m getting off topic.
I was always the prodigy of the family. Taking college classes in 8th grade. All A’s etc*. When my dad died, and my mom got sick. I didn’t go back to school for months. So stuck in grief, and PTSD, and Depression. I didn’t leave my room for weeks, only to eat and go to the bathroom. Eventually, I had to go back. And I almost didn’t graduate. As I rightfully shouldn’t have. But, I had done all my work while gone. My GPA is a 3.4. So the school, thankfully, is letting me walk.
Despite this. I know I don’t deserve it. I’m not the success story they wanted. “Girl graduates after dad’s death and mom’s cancer diagnosis with honors”.
I’m not a success at all.
I don’t have any plans for my future. My dad’s gone, my mom’s dying. I haven’t told anyone the date I graduate. Haven’t set up a party. I don’t deserve their support. I don’t deserve anything.
I’m so lonely. I miss my dad. I wish my mom could see me walk. I wish they were the ones planning my party. I wish they were the ones sending out announcements. I’m not proud of myself. And I feel like they shouldn’t be either.
I’m usually good with words. But when it comes to this. this ugly feeling. I don’t know how to speak it.
Here’s something I wrote about grief. Or how I’ve experienced it everyday these past months. Maybe someone will understand it too.
“ Grief is one of those things that makes sense when you haven't experienced it. You think it's gonna be sudden. Like a cool bucket of water dumped over your head on a hot day.
A gasp of sudden breath, to make sure you're not drowning in it. In reality, it's not the water you should be dreading. That's the easy part. The shock.
It's the sun.
There's no sunscreen for grief. No way to stop it, to make it hurt less. You can run from it sure, enjoy the day.
But in the end, you're still sunburnt.”
I apologize if this makes no sense. I got sun poisoning last week and am sick af.

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.