Watch charming mother
Mother Mother
2012.06.14 00:52 Mirakitty Mother Mother
Mother Mother is a 5 piece indie band from Vancouver, Canada - new LP “GRIEF CHAPTER" out now!
2012.10.09 02:09 NarwhalAnusRape JERK MOTHERFUCKER JERK!
2014.04.07 10:06 keremy HIMYM Again
We'll start from the pilot episode and watch every episode daily, and discuss them as if they are new, to the finale.
2024.05.14 04:56 YamRound First Mother’s Day and MIL didn’t say a word to me.
My feelings are so hurt, but I can’t tell if I’m overreacting or not. This is long, sorry in advance.
My mil didn’t wish me a happy Mother’s Day (everyone did in our family group message but she did not). She texted my husband and his brother later that day telling them they needed to call their grandmother to say Happy Mother’s Day (they always do, so I’m not sure why she did that).
It was my First Mother’s Day and my husband made dinner plans for us months in advance. We weren’t able to attend dinner with his grandparents or parents this year because of our plans, and the short notice of those plans. I’m not sure if she was angry about that or what her reasoning was, although I tried to get together all weekend to celebrate (Saturday and Sunday mornings or afternoons).
My feelings are very hurt, but in addition to this I am angry. She has been nasty and disrespectful to me in the past, but I know how much she loves her grandkids so I have put everything aside and let it go. I mean for like 7-8 years there has been ongoing issues with how she has treated me and with boundaries (she was awesome the first few years, until my husband and I moved away for college). She recently started watching my baby once a week for a few hours. But, not wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day feels kind of disrespectful and just doesn’t sit right with me. I set a boundary during my pregnancy that people who do not respect me and are unkind to me do not get to be around my children (in this case, I don’t think I would do that… I think just not seeing my baby without my husband or I present?) But am I wrong for wanting to find different childcare for the day she has my baby? I was hesitant to begin with… about 3-4 years ago I remember her telling my nephew “because your mommy’s a ding bat” about my sister in law (her sons wife), so I have always been hesitant about her watching my baby but my husband wanted her to and so did she. She was excited when my husband asked, and of course I am so grateful for it. It has only been one time so far. I kept her home with me instead of sending her today. Not wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day but going out of her way to remind my husband to wish his grandma one just isn’t sitting right with me. She also did something special for all of my sister in laws for their first Mother’s Day but didn’t even wish me one. And I am sure she reached out to all of them to wish them one. Sorry for the long post I just don’t know if I’m overreacting and I really don’t like conflict or want issues 😢
submitted by YamRound to JUSTNOMIL [link] [comments]
My mil didn’t wish me a happy Mother’s Day (everyone did in our family group message but she did not). She texted my husband and his brother later that day telling them they needed to call their grandmother to say Happy Mother’s Day (they always do, so I’m not sure why she did that).
It was my First Mother’s Day and my husband made dinner plans for us months in advance. We weren’t able to attend dinner with his grandparents or parents this year because of our plans, and the short notice of those plans. I’m not sure if she was angry about that or what her reasoning was, although I tried to get together all weekend to celebrate (Saturday and Sunday mornings or afternoons).
My feelings are very hurt, but in addition to this I am angry. She has been nasty and disrespectful to me in the past, but I know how much she loves her grandkids so I have put everything aside and let it go. I mean for like 7-8 years there has been ongoing issues with how she has treated me and with boundaries (she was awesome the first few years, until my husband and I moved away for college). She recently started watching my baby once a week for a few hours. But, not wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day feels kind of disrespectful and just doesn’t sit right with me. I set a boundary during my pregnancy that people who do not respect me and are unkind to me do not get to be around my children (in this case, I don’t think I would do that… I think just not seeing my baby without my husband or I present?) But am I wrong for wanting to find different childcare for the day she has my baby? I was hesitant to begin with… about 3-4 years ago I remember her telling my nephew “because your mommy’s a ding bat” about my sister in law (her sons wife), so I have always been hesitant about her watching my baby but my husband wanted her to and so did she. She was excited when my husband asked, and of course I am so grateful for it. It has only been one time so far. I kept her home with me instead of sending her today. Not wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day but going out of her way to remind my husband to wish his grandma one just isn’t sitting right with me. She also did something special for all of my sister in laws for their first Mother’s Day but didn’t even wish me one. And I am sure she reached out to all of them to wish them one. Sorry for the long post I just don’t know if I’m overreacting and I really don’t like conflict or want issues 😢
2024.05.14 04:56 howhow326 Eve Stellar Blade is not sexy (and ranting about the Bayonetta allegations)
Before we start, allow me to lay all my cards onto the table: No, this is not me bashing Stellar Blade, just Eve's character (or lack there of). No, this is not going to be a "Culture War" fest or whatever, go find a Marvel movie to complain about. Yes, I am a Bayonetta stan. No, I did not play the game, but I've watched playthroughs and I'm not talking about gameplay anyway. Ok?
So Eve Stellar Blade is the new It girl that's been causing a stir with her "sexy" boobs and butt and it's all talk of the town and la de da. There's people saying she's a "fighting fuckdoll trope", there's men putting her on their anti woke pedstal and saying she's the chosen one that's going restore the world back to the good old days and kill the left like Sydney Sweetie's chest or whatever, and everything in between.
Well I, the local contrarian, have chosen the position to say she's barely sexy at all. Now, is she sexualized, are her developers pushing her into sex symbol status? Yes, that comes with the territory of her defult clothes being Ned Flanders Ski suit and her unlockable outfits including pin up girl cosplay. But is Eve Stellar Blade sexy? The answer is no and here's why:
1) We've seen this before
Oh boy, a woman in spandex so tight she almost looks like she's wearing nothing at all! There's only like 100 other female characters who do that!!
Eve Stellar Blade needs to fire her wardrobe manager because her design is boring AF, just the tried and true Si-Fi spandex that every other girl has worn before. Sad thing is, her unlockable outfits that give her a cute, baggy jacket make her one million times more appealing than the sexy outfit version of cardbord box that she's wearing.
2) She has zero personality
So the worst part of this whole culture war surrounding Eve Stellar Blade is I've been seeing people compare her to Bayonetta and like, first of all, keep the queen's name out your mouth. She's sleeping.
Second of all, forgive my tone but Bayonetta cannot be compared to any old raggedy trick. She is Bayonetta . Everything about her, from her clothes, to her hair, to her personality, to her name , it all demands you pay attention to her. Bayonetta is a stripper dominatrix witch with the personality to match. There has never been a leading lady in gaming like her before, and there most likely won't be another after her. No. Comparison. But even if there was a new girl that tried to take the queen's throne, it ain't Even Steven Blonde.
Quick question, type one quote, something iconic that came from Eve Stellar Blade's mouth. Cuz I can think of several from Bayonetta, byt I'll wait.
Back on track, Sexy is more than just your looks, it's how you carry yourself. You think the reason why all the girlies are thirsting after corpse man from Fallout is because they have a no nose fetish??? No!!! It's because that guy is charming and endlessly confident. Bayonetta is charming, endlessly confident, and the baddest bitch of every room she ever walked into.
What does Even Stellar Blade do, other than rely on her looks to secure anti wokers? I'll tell you what, nothing!! She has zero personality, zero charisma, zero prescence, her aesthetic is looking like an airbrushed Korean model in Spandex, and her greatest assets aretried and true gainaxing that's been in every game ever! Yall are comparing this girl to Bayonetta when Mother brought you disappearing clothes AND monstergirls? I'd ask you to raise your standards, but worshipping Even Steven requires you not have any anyway.
submitted by howhow326 to CharacterRant [link] [comments]
So Eve Stellar Blade is the new It girl that's been causing a stir with her "sexy" boobs and butt and it's all talk of the town and la de da. There's people saying she's a "fighting fuckdoll trope", there's men putting her on their anti woke pedstal and saying she's the chosen one that's going restore the world back to the good old days and kill the left like Sydney Sweetie's chest or whatever, and everything in between.
Well I, the local contrarian, have chosen the position to say she's barely sexy at all. Now, is she sexualized, are her developers pushing her into sex symbol status? Yes, that comes with the territory of her defult clothes being Ned Flanders Ski suit and her unlockable outfits including pin up girl cosplay. But is Eve Stellar Blade sexy? The answer is no and here's why:
1) We've seen this before
Oh boy, a woman in spandex so tight she almost looks like she's wearing nothing at all! There's only like 100 other female characters who do that!!
Eve Stellar Blade needs to fire her wardrobe manager because her design is boring AF, just the tried and true Si-Fi spandex that every other girl has worn before. Sad thing is, her unlockable outfits that give her a cute, baggy jacket make her one million times more appealing than the sexy outfit version of cardbord box that she's wearing.
2) She has zero personality
So the worst part of this whole culture war surrounding Eve Stellar Blade is I've been seeing people compare her to Bayonetta and like, first of all, keep the queen's name out your mouth. She's sleeping.
Second of all, forgive my tone but Bayonetta cannot be compared to any old raggedy trick. She is Bayonetta . Everything about her, from her clothes, to her hair, to her personality, to her name , it all demands you pay attention to her. Bayonetta is a stripper dominatrix witch with the personality to match. There has never been a leading lady in gaming like her before, and there most likely won't be another after her. No. Comparison. But even if there was a new girl that tried to take the queen's throne, it ain't Even Steven Blonde.
Quick question, type one quote, something iconic that came from Eve Stellar Blade's mouth. Cuz I can think of several from Bayonetta, byt I'll wait.
Back on track, Sexy is more than just your looks, it's how you carry yourself. You think the reason why all the girlies are thirsting after corpse man from Fallout is because they have a no nose fetish??? No!!! It's because that guy is charming and endlessly confident. Bayonetta is charming, endlessly confident, and the baddest bitch of every room she ever walked into.
What does Even Stellar Blade do, other than rely on her looks to secure anti wokers? I'll tell you what, nothing!! She has zero personality, zero charisma, zero prescence, her aesthetic is looking like an airbrushed Korean model in Spandex, and her greatest assets aretried and true gainaxing that's been in every game ever! Yall are comparing this girl to Bayonetta when Mother brought you disappearing clothes AND monstergirls? I'd ask you to raise your standards, but worshipping Even Steven requires you not have any anyway.
TL;DR
Eve Stellar Blade is a bitch and Bayonetta's son. She is also the J Lo of video game girls.2024.05.14 04:55 Triggerlocks AITAH for arguing with my wife over who’s responsible for Mother’s Day? We all are, but isn’t it for kids/children?
About a week ago my mother (75 years old) called me up and asked if I would go to The Rolling Stones concert in Vegas with her. She had bought two tickets, her and my father and she told me she wanted to attend but that my dad wasn’t feeling very well. He is on oxygen when he is at home. He has COPD, a lung disease, and cannot get around much. Since it was a chance to hang with my mom a day before Mother’s Day and see the Stones I said heck yeah!!
I had already mentioned to my wife that on Mother’s Day when I return, we should grill some steak and scallops and lounge out a bit… play it by ear. My wife mentioned that grilling probably wasn’t a great idea and that the oldest of our two kids, our daughter, would be heading to Europe about an hour after we return home from Vegas the day after the concert (Sunday the 12th).
Our youngest (18 years old son) accompanied me to Vegas to stay at the relatives while my mother and I went to the Stones concert.
The next morning, Mothers Day, I woke up at my parents house, texted my wife Happy Mothers Day before even jumping out of the covers. We had a family church obligation to attend to until about noon before traveling back home to see my daughter off to the airport to Europe.
Here is where the drama begins. With all the hubbub of the concert the night before, the relatives and grandma being around, my son doesn’t text or call my wife (his mom) HMD that morning. I didn’t get a text back immediately from my wife when I texted her at about 8 am, HMD… I figured I’d let her sleep in if that’s what she wanted to do. My son and I do our church thing, my wife finally responds to my text saying that they are packing and repacking for my daughters Europe trip and that they want the packing job to be right. When we finally get home late in the afternoon, I give her the present that I bought my wife (her favorite perfume that she is nearly out of) and my son gives her his present… (a note and a Pink Yeti mug I had actually bought my wife a week ago that I hadn’t given her yet, just in case one of the kids hadn’t gotten her a gift for Mother’s Day).
Side note… My wife is very big on gifts. She is a great gift giver and anticipates good gift receiving.
When I walked in home from traveling I could also smell that she was cooking something, and there was a salad on the table. I figured she planned something she wanted to have for dinner, since I had been with my own mother since the day before and she, my wife had been with our daughter having a fun girls time, watching movies, getting a mani/pedi, having pho… THIS WAS NOT THE CASE. I got the evil eye right away. She started talking snarky to me, saying snide remarks which in turn, much to my chagrin I returned the remarks. It’s been tit for tat for the last 24 hours. She said her Mother’s Day was ruined and that it was my fault. That I should have planned the day for her. The blame is all in my court.
Ugh… I feel like every birthday, anniversary, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Christmas… whatever day that retail America says I’m obligated to spend money to buy gifts… I’m not doing a good enough job. My wife buys our kids presents for Easter for hells sake. It’s too much. I don’t want anymore of it. Keep all the stupid gifts. It’s just the act of buying a thing and giving it. Its ridiculous.
Also… Am I supposed to be doting all over my wife on Mother’s Day with palm leaves and figs? If I am, I am. I just don’t see husbands doing all the work. I see kids…. Kids rubbing their moms back and making coupons for dishwashing and various chores. Kids taking care of moms and telling them what a great job they do raising them. In the arguments up to now, she is treating me like I am responsible for her Mother’s Day happiness and pointing at me saying she didn’t get what she wanted and that she didn’t have a good time. I can see how the husbands job is to orchestrate what the kids do for the moms but if I am wrong, I am wrong.
She is a great mom and I tell her that constantly. She knows I know that. I value her. My wife and I have a great relationship 99% of the time but this silly.
submitted by Triggerlocks to AITAH [link] [comments]
I had already mentioned to my wife that on Mother’s Day when I return, we should grill some steak and scallops and lounge out a bit… play it by ear. My wife mentioned that grilling probably wasn’t a great idea and that the oldest of our two kids, our daughter, would be heading to Europe about an hour after we return home from Vegas the day after the concert (Sunday the 12th).
Our youngest (18 years old son) accompanied me to Vegas to stay at the relatives while my mother and I went to the Stones concert.
The next morning, Mothers Day, I woke up at my parents house, texted my wife Happy Mothers Day before even jumping out of the covers. We had a family church obligation to attend to until about noon before traveling back home to see my daughter off to the airport to Europe.
Here is where the drama begins. With all the hubbub of the concert the night before, the relatives and grandma being around, my son doesn’t text or call my wife (his mom) HMD that morning. I didn’t get a text back immediately from my wife when I texted her at about 8 am, HMD… I figured I’d let her sleep in if that’s what she wanted to do. My son and I do our church thing, my wife finally responds to my text saying that they are packing and repacking for my daughters Europe trip and that they want the packing job to be right. When we finally get home late in the afternoon, I give her the present that I bought my wife (her favorite perfume that she is nearly out of) and my son gives her his present… (a note and a Pink Yeti mug I had actually bought my wife a week ago that I hadn’t given her yet, just in case one of the kids hadn’t gotten her a gift for Mother’s Day).
Side note… My wife is very big on gifts. She is a great gift giver and anticipates good gift receiving.
When I walked in home from traveling I could also smell that she was cooking something, and there was a salad on the table. I figured she planned something she wanted to have for dinner, since I had been with my own mother since the day before and she, my wife had been with our daughter having a fun girls time, watching movies, getting a mani/pedi, having pho… THIS WAS NOT THE CASE. I got the evil eye right away. She started talking snarky to me, saying snide remarks which in turn, much to my chagrin I returned the remarks. It’s been tit for tat for the last 24 hours. She said her Mother’s Day was ruined and that it was my fault. That I should have planned the day for her. The blame is all in my court.
Ugh… I feel like every birthday, anniversary, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Christmas… whatever day that retail America says I’m obligated to spend money to buy gifts… I’m not doing a good enough job. My wife buys our kids presents for Easter for hells sake. It’s too much. I don’t want anymore of it. Keep all the stupid gifts. It’s just the act of buying a thing and giving it. Its ridiculous.
Also… Am I supposed to be doting all over my wife on Mother’s Day with palm leaves and figs? If I am, I am. I just don’t see husbands doing all the work. I see kids…. Kids rubbing their moms back and making coupons for dishwashing and various chores. Kids taking care of moms and telling them what a great job they do raising them. In the arguments up to now, she is treating me like I am responsible for her Mother’s Day happiness and pointing at me saying she didn’t get what she wanted and that she didn’t have a good time. I can see how the husbands job is to orchestrate what the kids do for the moms but if I am wrong, I am wrong.
She is a great mom and I tell her that constantly. She knows I know that. I value her. My wife and I have a great relationship 99% of the time but this silly.
2024.05.14 04:53 PaullyBeenis Please Stop Making Me Watch Jeff McNeil Take ABs
He's awful, and he's been awful. His savant page is a nightmare, and it was even worse last year, but he got lucky and outperformed expected metrics (and he still fucking sucked).
He throws a fucking tantrum after half of his weak pop-outs. Just when you thought he couldn't suck any worse, his sprint speed and defensive metrics have also dramatically declined this year (this is probably partially small sample, but he fucking sucks).
He's not going to get better. He is bad. He is not suitable for a starting spot on a competitive roster, because he does nothing well.
And what's crazy about this team is that he's not even our worst middle infielder because we are carrying Joey Fucking Wendle. No viable lineup, unless you've got the Dodgers top 5, can feature Baty (or even worse, Wendle), Bader, McNeil, and Nido as 6 through 9.
I don't know what the solution is. I can't tell you how to fix it. But I can tell you that if I have to watch one more mother fucking Jeff McNeil 60 mph exit velo infield fly out, I am going to gouge out my eyes with a power drill.
I'll see you all tomorrow.
submitted by PaullyBeenis to NewYorkMets [link] [comments]
He throws a fucking tantrum after half of his weak pop-outs. Just when you thought he couldn't suck any worse, his sprint speed and defensive metrics have also dramatically declined this year (this is probably partially small sample, but he fucking sucks).
He's not going to get better. He is bad. He is not suitable for a starting spot on a competitive roster, because he does nothing well.
And what's crazy about this team is that he's not even our worst middle infielder because we are carrying Joey Fucking Wendle. No viable lineup, unless you've got the Dodgers top 5, can feature Baty (or even worse, Wendle), Bader, McNeil, and Nido as 6 through 9.
I don't know what the solution is. I can't tell you how to fix it. But I can tell you that if I have to watch one more mother fucking Jeff McNeil 60 mph exit velo infield fly out, I am going to gouge out my eyes with a power drill.
I'll see you all tomorrow.
2024.05.14 04:53 shaneka69 CANCER ZODIAC - UNEXPECTED INCOME! TAROT READING MAY 2024
CANCER ZODIAC TAROT READING - UNEXPECTED INCOME MAY 2024
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2024.05.14 04:42 stormyfuck bridgerstoned 2.1
Dearest gentle readers, did you miss me? it’s time for season 2! I’m gonna try to do all 8 episodes before s3 drops
Episode 1
submitted by stormyfuck to BridgertonNetflix [link] [comments]
Episode 1
- Daphne’s bangs have transformed from pringles mustache to a lovely diadem of hair
- I love lady danbury’s structural lace collar capelet
- The featherington mourning wear is twice as unflattering
- Lol @ gregory rolling his eyes about anthony’s list
- The art in the opening credits is interesting. The texture of it reminds me of a video game
- Ah penelope knows her worth and raised her prices. We love to see it
- Sharpening my knives for all of you damn girl
- pen’s fake irish accent is somehow different than nic’s real irish accent
- “Theyre the ones running around while you sit on your arse” get ‘im girl
- “All the young ladies looked the same” rude
- Violet: you want to give my treasured ring to just some girl? Do you have no respect for love? for me?
- The brothel scenes always crack me up because its just a bunch of big velvet curtains and some candelabras in the background. but Ive never been to a brothel so maybe thats accurate
- Anthony’s perfect lady: independent, intelligent, agreeable, no mama drama. May i suggest a golden retriever
- Anthony did not come off as this heavy-headed, overly burdened with responsibility tortured poet soul in season 1
- Kate!!
- Anthony is surprised and turned on
- It sounds like kate says “Oh fuck it” when he pulls up next to her but the captions say [speaks hindi] does anyone know what shes saying?
- Anthony is absolutely smitten. The stubborn dumbass
- Newton! LD is not a dog person
- The mature age of “six and twenty” keels over as an elderly 31yr old
- Eloise has a new ribbon hat contraption. This one has a round felt disc a la a beret
- Pens face as el talks shit about LW >:(
- Potatoes again?? Yes please
- Favorite fun fact: potatoes are an excellent source of vitamins and minerals, and adding cheese adds calcium/vitamin d and makes it a complete vitamin source. My daily intake of cheesy potatoes is like a flintstone vitamin
- Lol the feather’s maid is like why dont you try selling some of this fancy shit if you need money so bad
- Kate has a blue ribbon braided in her hair. Its so pretty. This cerulean shade looks stunning on her. She’s wearing the bridgerton blue from day 1 ♥️
- Edwina’s perfect match: charming, handsome, a duke or a prince. Might i suggest a king charles spaniel?
- Kate’s perfect match: someone who understands her on a deep spiritual level. Might i suggest anthony
- As the sharmas walk into the ball, theres a horse pulling a carriage that looks like its feet are tied together or something. Its doing the strangest walk
- I love the classical version of material girl
- QC like hi mary still hate you bitch ok bye
- Benedict stealing el away from the gentleman version of chucky
- You know, the gossipy quality of the ton is a great way to give viewers background info
- Fake tears always work
- Phili and finch will make beautiful cheese babies
- LD: anthony is a perfect suitor Edwina: dibs Kate: goddamn it
- Anthony’s smile when he sees kate again 😍
- I want to reach through the tv and smoosh their faces together right now. This annoying adorable banter is too much “You find my smile pleasing?”
- LD and violet like shall we do it again this year? pick another perfect match together?
- Pen is an excellent business woman. 10 pounds for 1 LW edition? Thats more than a thousand bucks in todays money. Girliepop is a girl boss. A true she-e-o
- Aw regency chucky has a crush on eloise
- I sympathize with kate. I am also dreadful and unpleasant
- Benedict trying to get it in with madame delacroix again
- Anthony can dish it out but sure cant take it
- Lower those expectations and settle for someone - violet
- Pen writing to colin. THREE MORE DAYSSS
- LD dressing kate down like girl. I opened my home to you. You really gonna stand here and lie to my face
- Love that kate comes clean and LD is like okay good now that thats out in the open lets get this girl hitched. I can scheme too
- Agan kate in blue here is so beautiful
- I love QCs laugh
- I would rather die! Well well how the turntables
- Pen: i have managed to find joy in this whole spectacle Eloise: WOW so you hate feminism
- LD really looked at kate like watch this and then got edwina diamond-ed
- Edwina: i love a man who knows what he wants and is direct Anthony: doesn’t know what he wants and sniffs kate
- LW: suddenly writing feminist rhetoric Eloise: wow what coincidence i was JUST talking to penelope about this
- I love that QCs wigs have natural textured hair in them
2024.05.14 04:41 hippie_soul0128 Little Cole “bashing Lisa on Mother’s Day”
Does anyone have the live where little Cole was confirming that Lisa was in fact not going to the waterpark? In her words “bashing” her on Mother’s Day? I’ve been watching her lives on Kai’s channel but don’t see anything on there about it?
submitted by hippie_soul0128 to lisarichardsnark [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 04:35 Ok-Register2454 My niece got a 3rd degree burn from a treadmill when she was in my care.
Words cannot describe and express my guilt. I’m a mother of two. My sister had asked me to babysit her two kids (age 10 M and 4.5F) for the weekend. They were playing in the building’s gym and my nephew decided he wanted to try out the treadmill. My husband who was watching the kids adamantly refused that notion but my nephew did not listen and still turned it on. A soft ball was thrown and went underneath the treadmill and my niece went to grab for it. She stuck her hand underneath and and started to scream. My husband who has extremely fast reflexes screamed for the treadmill to be taken off, grabbed my niece and ran upstairs to call an ambulance. When the paramedics arrived one said we had to get to the hospital immediately while the other said it’s just a bad scrape and to put bacitracin and cover it. Well we did do that. Fast forward 3 days later, my sister is with my niece in the hospital for an infected 3rd degree burn. I’m trembling and have extreme guilt for what happened. I feel like I caused this. Not to mention that my sister even gave me a $300 certificate to Louis vitton after she picked up my niece. I just feel so ashamed and helpless. Please give me support.
submitted by Ok-Register2454 to toddlers [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 04:31 mishale80 Children Of Bad Parents
About two years ago, I was in contact with a woman who wanted to write a book titled “Strong Daughters Of Bad Mothers”. She wanted to publicize both her own story and the stories of other women who were willing to share. So she made an online post and received quite a bit of backlash. Because of the term "Bad Mothers". The thread that developed was interesting, but also quite exhausting because of the obvious tunnel vision of some of the commenters. Rather than getting caught up in this useless discussion, I decided to write an article in support of her.
My mother died a few years ago, but being estranged from her years before her death, I know all the struggles someone goes through. I thought maybe, some of you might find my article helpful as well. Sorry, if the wording is a litttle off at times, I had to translate it for this sub. So here it goes:
MEASURABLE SUCCESS / FAILURE IN PARENTING?
So far I haven’t been blessed with the task of being a mother. From my own experience, I can only say what I wouldn’t ever want my child to have to deal with. But could I ever be competent enough to provide at least everything that seems important to me? Love and appreciation without expecting anything in return? The ability to love and care for themselves? Encouragement through weaknesses and promotion of strengths?
At what point does one become "bad" at parenting? Is there a scale? A scale that goes from “total neglect” = “terrible” to “raising a child to be a superhero” = “perfect”? I hardly think so. And why is that? Because of human failure. There are no special categories for that. Though we feel most comfortable when we can put everything in its drawer and label it. But does that mean that once you reach a certain level of failure, you’re not allowed to call things by their name just because they’re not obviously "measurable"?
Imagine this: You trust your dentist to do a decent job, but on almost every visit they pull the wrong tooth or drill in the wrong place - would you say to yourself, "Well, maybe they haven’t had an easy life," or would you rather conclude that you chose a lousy dentist? Too trivial? Too far-fetched? After all, you can't compare a visit to the dentist to a family life, can you? Well, sometimes you can.
Let me further illustrate why the simple adjective "bad" should be removed from the taboo when it comes to parent-child relationships: Have you ever advised a friend/family membeacquaintance to distance themselves from someone? Because you realized that their relationship (developing or existing) clearly wasn’t doing them any good? Have you ever told someone: "This person is bad for you"? If so, did you try to think of a better word? Or did “bad” just roll off the tongue - because it was the truth?
Yes, some of you may be offended when we refer to ourselves as children of "bad" parents. How disrespectful. They gave us the gift of life - or they adopted us. Either way, a total no-go! Right? But maybe you should ask yourself WHY exactly it triggers you so much.
As the daughter of a bad mother, let me tell you this: People who have had difficult, perhaps even traumatic, childhoods are rarely interested in a "revenge" or "shaming" anyone. It's about finally being seen and heard. It's about no longer hiding our scars (physical and psychological). It’s about staying true to ourselves when others lecture us about "family values".
The level of respect and compassion that is undoubtedly given to BOTH bad and good parents is equally due to their children.
If something was "not good"... what was it? Open for improvement? Probably. Not quite ideal? Possibly. Mediocre? Perhaps. But these quibbles over words do not minimize the damage done. Especially when it was just that: BAD.
Awful. Horrible. Disastrous. Traumatizing.
We can add whatever suits our case. Whatever suits OUR FEELINGS. It is primarily a judgment of "parenting", not particularly of the people who dabble in it. For the greatest harm can be done with the best of intentions. Maybe they failed because they "didn’t know better". Maybe they passed on what was given to them. They too were once children, and perhaps they themselves were victims in some way. But do any of these possibilities or facts change the outcome? Or reverse our trauma? Sadly, no.
Deep down, somewhere, there is still is a child reaching out for help because they have been hurt. Don’t shut them up or push them away. Don’t yell at them or tell them “not to be so dramatic”. Instead, just listen. For healing also means acknowledging all the wounds that have been inflicted, both visible and invisible. Don’t belittle them just because you don't like their choice of words.
So please, just take that child's hand. Even if they're already an adult. Listen closely. Watch carefully. It doesn’t matter if you can’t fully grasp the implications of what you're hearing or seeing. Just be open and compassionate. And maybe your own inner child will speak up and have a thing or two to say.
June, 2022
submitted by mishale80 to EstrangedAdultChild [link] [comments]
My mother died a few years ago, but being estranged from her years before her death, I know all the struggles someone goes through. I thought maybe, some of you might find my article helpful as well. Sorry, if the wording is a litttle off at times, I had to translate it for this sub. So here it goes:
So far I haven’t been blessed with the task of being a mother. From my own experience, I can only say what I wouldn’t ever want my child to have to deal with. But could I ever be competent enough to provide at least everything that seems important to me? Love and appreciation without expecting anything in return? The ability to love and care for themselves? Encouragement through weaknesses and promotion of strengths?
At what point does one become "bad" at parenting? Is there a scale? A scale that goes from “total neglect” = “terrible” to “raising a child to be a superhero” = “perfect”? I hardly think so. And why is that? Because of human failure. There are no special categories for that. Though we feel most comfortable when we can put everything in its drawer and label it. But does that mean that once you reach a certain level of failure, you’re not allowed to call things by their name just because they’re not obviously "measurable"?
Imagine this: You trust your dentist to do a decent job, but on almost every visit they pull the wrong tooth or drill in the wrong place - would you say to yourself, "Well, maybe they haven’t had an easy life," or would you rather conclude that you chose a lousy dentist? Too trivial? Too far-fetched? After all, you can't compare a visit to the dentist to a family life, can you? Well, sometimes you can.
Let me further illustrate why the simple adjective "bad" should be removed from the taboo when it comes to parent-child relationships: Have you ever advised a friend/family membeacquaintance to distance themselves from someone? Because you realized that their relationship (developing or existing) clearly wasn’t doing them any good? Have you ever told someone: "This person is bad for you"? If so, did you try to think of a better word? Or did “bad” just roll off the tongue - because it was the truth?
Yes, some of you may be offended when we refer to ourselves as children of "bad" parents. How disrespectful. They gave us the gift of life - or they adopted us. Either way, a total no-go! Right? But maybe you should ask yourself WHY exactly it triggers you so much.
As the daughter of a bad mother, let me tell you this: People who have had difficult, perhaps even traumatic, childhoods are rarely interested in a "revenge" or "shaming" anyone. It's about finally being seen and heard. It's about no longer hiding our scars (physical and psychological). It’s about staying true to ourselves when others lecture us about "family values".
The level of respect and compassion that is undoubtedly given to BOTH bad and good parents is equally due to their children.
If something was "not good"... what was it? Open for improvement? Probably. Not quite ideal? Possibly. Mediocre? Perhaps. But these quibbles over words do not minimize the damage done. Especially when it was just that: BAD.
Awful. Horrible. Disastrous. Traumatizing.
We can add whatever suits our case. Whatever suits OUR FEELINGS. It is primarily a judgment of "parenting", not particularly of the people who dabble in it. For the greatest harm can be done with the best of intentions. Maybe they failed because they "didn’t know better". Maybe they passed on what was given to them. They too were once children, and perhaps they themselves were victims in some way. But do any of these possibilities or facts change the outcome? Or reverse our trauma? Sadly, no.
Deep down, somewhere, there is still is a child reaching out for help because they have been hurt. Don’t shut them up or push them away. Don’t yell at them or tell them “not to be so dramatic”. Instead, just listen. For healing also means acknowledging all the wounds that have been inflicted, both visible and invisible. Don’t belittle them just because you don't like their choice of words.
So please, just take that child's hand. Even if they're already an adult. Listen closely. Watch carefully. It doesn’t matter if you can’t fully grasp the implications of what you're hearing or seeing. Just be open and compassionate. And maybe your own inner child will speak up and have a thing or two to say.
June, 2022
2024.05.14 04:31 Jonbieniemy87 A Lily in the Valley of Haze (Femarch Mortarion, Part 2 of ?)
The apothecary spent the first few months tending to wounded Space Marines, starting their garden aboard the ship, and learning as much as they could in order to stay in the good graces of the Lady who took them in. They had learned that she was Mortarion, Primarch and daughter of the God Emperor of Mankind. They knew little of the Emperor of Mankind, and he focused on more practical medical research than learning more about their commander’s father.
Mortarion had kept a watchful eye on the apothecary she had brought on board. She half expected her sons to rip the psyker to shreds, or for the young apothecary to be overwhelmed by the number of wounded and dying. However, they had thrown himself at his work, spending time working on caring for her sons and learning. Most surprising was that the apothecary had created a garden inside the apothecary chamber, and Mortarion was starting to think the chamber smelled .... good? Pleasant? She could not be sure, but she was sure that she had made a good decision. Her sons seemed to have even accepted the psyker into their ranks, at least enough that they wouldn't immediately kill them. Typhus however did not seem quite as accepting of the apothecary, and Mortarion couldn’t quite blame him.
The apothecary kept working and working. They could feel that their psyker powers were getting stronger, and their control over them growing. They could heal the massive sons of his master quickly, knowing now how to best heal them but also how to best control their healing psyker powers. As they improved his apothecary skills and their psyker powers, they worked diligently on their garden, adding new plants and keeping the garden beautiful. Typhus watched on from a distance, sometimes while he was checking on his brothers, sometimes just to keep an eye on the psyker. He did not trust the apothecary, no matter how much his mother said that their skills were of great use, and they were badly needed at all times.
Mortarion started spending more and more time in the apothecary chamber. She said it was to look after her sons, but Mortarion knew part of her just wanted to enjoy the smell of the flowers. She wanted to smell something else, something other than the gas and the haze. Of course she never took her mask off, but what bit of pleasant aroma she got, she would take. Typhus could see this. He could see what he considered to be the slow corruption of his mother by someone by a psyker, even if they were from his home planet. It didn’t matter. He would have to confront his mother, or take action on his own. As he plotted, far distant bile filled laughter could be heard, the father was watching and waiting.
They could see their master spending more time in the apothecary chamber. One day they walked up to their master, “Do you have any wounds that need tending M’lady?” They held a series of flowers and herbs in their hands that they had been working with before they went to check on Mortarion.
Mortarion wasn’t sure what to say but thought it would be best to say something. “I am alright apothecary thank you…” Mortarion didn’t know what came over her, but she hoped that no one heard what she said.
They couldn’t quite hear the last parts, but they were at least comforted that their master was unhurt. They returned to their apothecary work, creating substances, tending to their plants, and the Space Marines.
Typhus looked on ever longer in disgust. Upon Mortarion’s exit from the apothecary, he approached her with the intent to confront her. “Mother, is it truly necessary to keep the psyker on the ship, I care not if he is skilled, he will surely cause the corru….”
“Typus, I will not tolerate such thoughts. The apothecary is within the rights and is well supervised. They will bring no harm to your brothers, I assure you. Now, if there is nothing else, I have other matters to attend to.” Mortarion walked off to take on other duties, leaving Typhus in a building fury. He would not tolerate the desecration of their mother; he would have to get rid of the plants. That would surely drive a wedge between Mortarion and the apothecary.
The apothecary had the nightmare again, the four voices laughing, and the smell of bile.They can also see their garden withered and dying, the smell of decay in their nostrils. They wake up in a shock, hurrying to check on their garden. They found that their vision had come true, and that they were too late. Mortarion came in shortly after, seeing the apothecary on their knees trying to find something in the field of decay. Mortarion called out to them, “Apothecary, what has happened?” Mortarion moved to their side, laying a hand on their shoulder. “Apothecary, what has happened” she said again, but quieter, calmer; maybe even caring.
The apothecary turns to Mortarion, eyes wet with tears, hands and knees covered in dirt, grime and withered plant parts. “My plants. They're gone. They’re all gone….”
Mortarion did not know how to comfort the apothecary, they had no knowledge of care or concern. However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a lily, growing alone in the field of decay. She was going to grab it, but seeing the grim on her hands, she avoided touching the little flower that was left. “It seems a lily still remains. I know of a safer place if you wish to take it elsewhere.”
The apothecary looked up, gently cupping the lily in their hands. “Thank you, M’Lady.” They dug the lily carefully out of the ground, placing it into a pot near their workstation. “I am ready to transport it, M'Lady. Please, lead the way.” The apothecary said, dried tears caking their face.
Mortarion led the apothecary to her personal quarters, gesturing to an empty space on the far side of the room. “You can use this as your garden. No one will hurt your plants here.”
The apothecary was both shocked and appreciative at the opportunity. They gently laid the pot into space, taking care to keep it safe. Mortarion thought perhaps she would do her best to ease the pains of the apothecary, her lily. “I’ll leave you to your work.” She said, calmly, not her usual aggressive or brooding manner. She exited her room, leaving her lily alone to care for her flower.
As soon as she was out of line of sight, her face twisted in hatred as she went searching for Typhus. Once she found him, she picked him up, holding him by his neck. “What did you do to the apothecary’s garden!? Tell me Typhus!”
Typhus laughed maniacally in Mortarion’s face; his face twisted with an evil she had not seen from her sons. “You care too much for that psyker. Have you forgotten what those sorcerers did, did you forget mother? Have you forgotten you are?”
Mortarion squeezed his neck tighter, her hatred burning in her chest. “You know better than to talk to me like that.” She could see the mark of Chaos upon her son, and she took her scythe in free hand. “You are no longer a son of mine; your corruption will end with you. Goodbye traitor.” She cut off his head with her scythe, carrying his body to the airlock, where she jettisoned the body of what was once her son.
Mortarion went to join her lily in her room, joining her apothecary in the making of their garden. She hoped it would calm her down, she hoped that she could smell that sweet smell again, she hoped that she could show her traitor son that he was wrong. She would show him that he was wrong, even if she had no idea how to garden.
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Mortarion had kept a watchful eye on the apothecary she had brought on board. She half expected her sons to rip the psyker to shreds, or for the young apothecary to be overwhelmed by the number of wounded and dying. However, they had thrown himself at his work, spending time working on caring for her sons and learning. Most surprising was that the apothecary had created a garden inside the apothecary chamber, and Mortarion was starting to think the chamber smelled .... good? Pleasant? She could not be sure, but she was sure that she had made a good decision. Her sons seemed to have even accepted the psyker into their ranks, at least enough that they wouldn't immediately kill them. Typhus however did not seem quite as accepting of the apothecary, and Mortarion couldn’t quite blame him.
The apothecary kept working and working. They could feel that their psyker powers were getting stronger, and their control over them growing. They could heal the massive sons of his master quickly, knowing now how to best heal them but also how to best control their healing psyker powers. As they improved his apothecary skills and their psyker powers, they worked diligently on their garden, adding new plants and keeping the garden beautiful. Typhus watched on from a distance, sometimes while he was checking on his brothers, sometimes just to keep an eye on the psyker. He did not trust the apothecary, no matter how much his mother said that their skills were of great use, and they were badly needed at all times.
Mortarion started spending more and more time in the apothecary chamber. She said it was to look after her sons, but Mortarion knew part of her just wanted to enjoy the smell of the flowers. She wanted to smell something else, something other than the gas and the haze. Of course she never took her mask off, but what bit of pleasant aroma she got, she would take. Typhus could see this. He could see what he considered to be the slow corruption of his mother by someone by a psyker, even if they were from his home planet. It didn’t matter. He would have to confront his mother, or take action on his own. As he plotted, far distant bile filled laughter could be heard, the father was watching and waiting.
They could see their master spending more time in the apothecary chamber. One day they walked up to their master, “Do you have any wounds that need tending M’lady?” They held a series of flowers and herbs in their hands that they had been working with before they went to check on Mortarion.
Mortarion wasn’t sure what to say but thought it would be best to say something. “I am alright apothecary thank you…” Mortarion didn’t know what came over her, but she hoped that no one heard what she said.
They couldn’t quite hear the last parts, but they were at least comforted that their master was unhurt. They returned to their apothecary work, creating substances, tending to their plants, and the Space Marines.
Typhus looked on ever longer in disgust. Upon Mortarion’s exit from the apothecary, he approached her with the intent to confront her. “Mother, is it truly necessary to keep the psyker on the ship, I care not if he is skilled, he will surely cause the corru….”
“Typus, I will not tolerate such thoughts. The apothecary is within the rights and is well supervised. They will bring no harm to your brothers, I assure you. Now, if there is nothing else, I have other matters to attend to.” Mortarion walked off to take on other duties, leaving Typhus in a building fury. He would not tolerate the desecration of their mother; he would have to get rid of the plants. That would surely drive a wedge between Mortarion and the apothecary.
The apothecary had the nightmare again, the four voices laughing, and the smell of bile.They can also see their garden withered and dying, the smell of decay in their nostrils. They wake up in a shock, hurrying to check on their garden. They found that their vision had come true, and that they were too late. Mortarion came in shortly after, seeing the apothecary on their knees trying to find something in the field of decay. Mortarion called out to them, “Apothecary, what has happened?” Mortarion moved to their side, laying a hand on their shoulder. “Apothecary, what has happened” she said again, but quieter, calmer; maybe even caring.
The apothecary turns to Mortarion, eyes wet with tears, hands and knees covered in dirt, grime and withered plant parts. “My plants. They're gone. They’re all gone….”
Mortarion did not know how to comfort the apothecary, they had no knowledge of care or concern. However, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a lily, growing alone in the field of decay. She was going to grab it, but seeing the grim on her hands, she avoided touching the little flower that was left. “It seems a lily still remains. I know of a safer place if you wish to take it elsewhere.”
The apothecary looked up, gently cupping the lily in their hands. “Thank you, M’Lady.” They dug the lily carefully out of the ground, placing it into a pot near their workstation. “I am ready to transport it, M'Lady. Please, lead the way.” The apothecary said, dried tears caking their face.
Mortarion led the apothecary to her personal quarters, gesturing to an empty space on the far side of the room. “You can use this as your garden. No one will hurt your plants here.”
The apothecary was both shocked and appreciative at the opportunity. They gently laid the pot into space, taking care to keep it safe. Mortarion thought perhaps she would do her best to ease the pains of the apothecary, her lily. “I’ll leave you to your work.” She said, calmly, not her usual aggressive or brooding manner. She exited her room, leaving her lily alone to care for her flower.
As soon as she was out of line of sight, her face twisted in hatred as she went searching for Typhus. Once she found him, she picked him up, holding him by his neck. “What did you do to the apothecary’s garden!? Tell me Typhus!”
Typhus laughed maniacally in Mortarion’s face; his face twisted with an evil she had not seen from her sons. “You care too much for that psyker. Have you forgotten what those sorcerers did, did you forget mother? Have you forgotten you are?”
Mortarion squeezed his neck tighter, her hatred burning in her chest. “You know better than to talk to me like that.” She could see the mark of Chaos upon her son, and she took her scythe in free hand. “You are no longer a son of mine; your corruption will end with you. Goodbye traitor.” She cut off his head with her scythe, carrying his body to the airlock, where she jettisoned the body of what was once her son.
Mortarion went to join her lily in her room, joining her apothecary in the making of their garden. She hoped it would calm her down, she hoped that she could smell that sweet smell again, she hoped that she could show her traitor son that he was wrong. She would show him that he was wrong, even if she had no idea how to garden.
2024.05.14 04:28 Godzilla-30 Does anyone remember the incident of February 23rd, 2014? [Part 2]
It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.
submitted by Godzilla-30 to mrcreeps [link] [comments]
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.
2024.05.14 04:28 sensative_soul I've watched at least 200 puppies die and my family is a mess.
Essay ahead. TW: Animal abuse, child abuse and neglect, fire, and mention of illicit substances. Please don't read this if you are highly sensitive. You might not sleep tonight.
My mom ran a puppy mill starting when I was about 9. Until I was 24 I worked for her, her dog grooming and breeding businesses. Toy breeds. At one point we have over 200 dogs and the same amount of puppies, but when I left she had about 50 of each. She was a narcissist and I was trapped trying to make things better for the puppies. She also used money to control me. Starting at around 13 and maybe earlier, I stayed up with puppies some nights, getting up every two hours to feed them and turn the heating pad back on. I have narcolepsy now, and I often wonder if messing up my sleep schedule so young contributed to it.
We were selling these puppies for $600-$2000 but she told me we couldn't afford better equipment to take care of them. A lot of the money went down my dad's throat, up his nose, in his veins, and in his brain. He's gone now, passed before he reached 50.
I've seen parvo and other viruses run through her kennel due to bad decisions. My mom lamented each time about the amount of money she lost, not at the horror of the death. I've held countless puppies in my bra and in my hands as they breathed their last breath. I've seen puppies and fully adult dogs be thrown in the trash with the dog shit. I watched in utter heart break as weak puppies pushed aside by their mother's were removed and left alone to squeak and squeak until they squeaked their last breath. I always picked them up and comforted them. They didn't squeak and cry so much if I was holding them next to me. The end was easier if I was with them. So I stayed. And died tiny deaths with them.
I've seen more dog fights than I care to think about. Dogs torn apart by other dogs then throw in the trash. Even now, part of my consciousness stays awake at night because I have to be able to hear if there is a fight in the kennels. I don't live there anymore. This definitely contributes to the narcolepsy.
About 4 months ago her kennel burned down. My grandmother and medium support needs autistic cousin saved as many as they could, but the three of them saw the kennel burn and the dogs with it. Less than half survived. I will never forgive my mother for owning the mill that allowed such a horrific thing to happen. It was due to improper wiring and having so much wood. Wooden runs in a wooden building. I will never let go of how much she has hurt my cousin. He is precious and loves those animals.
This has also caused a rift in my family. My uncle was the one who told me that day, and when I called him back he told me that he couldn't comfort my cousin because he was my cousin's dad. I lost it on him. I watched this man neglect his son during my childhood and immediately pawn him off on my grandmother the night my grandfather died. My mom basically raised my cousin because he was so neglectful. The neglect got to me and I made sure he knew it was his decisions that led to this, but that's not what my family heard.
My brother also texted me that day to tell me to call my grandmother. I was trying to reel my emotions in and not make any of this more difficult on her, as I was ready to do not nice things to my mother. When I explained this, my brother decided that that was the straw that broke the camels back and went no contact with me very abruptly after an unnecessarily mean message. I didn't know there were any straws on the camels back, being as he lives states away and has since he was 21. The words in his message made it clear that he thought very poorly of me for a long time. We aren't even 30 yet, but you really only get one time to tell me I don't contribute anything to the world and mean it before you are cut from my life forever. I thought I would have my brother until near the end.......
This has, predictably, been wildly painful for me. I'm cleaning out infected wounds that tell me that products have feelings or that I can't be sad over puppy death. I hate that my brother didn't free himself of my mother's influence and get out of this empathy crushing system we were raised in. I worry about his husband often.
The silver lining, if there is any, is that my family was bad for me and now I've gotten out. I've got a slew of disabilities that they blamed me for, but I don't have to be there anymore. I'm happily married to the amazing man I've been with since highschool and we have a house of our own with two pets. I'm cleaning the wounds, been going to therapy since I was 18, and know that I need to get my psyche cleaned up so I can live a happy, fulfilled life. It's a process, but I've made a lot of good progress. If you made it this far, thanks internet stranger. It's a long, painful read.
Be good. Be safe. Have fun. You deserve goodness.
submitted by sensative_soul to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
My mom ran a puppy mill starting when I was about 9. Until I was 24 I worked for her, her dog grooming and breeding businesses. Toy breeds. At one point we have over 200 dogs and the same amount of puppies, but when I left she had about 50 of each. She was a narcissist and I was trapped trying to make things better for the puppies. She also used money to control me. Starting at around 13 and maybe earlier, I stayed up with puppies some nights, getting up every two hours to feed them and turn the heating pad back on. I have narcolepsy now, and I often wonder if messing up my sleep schedule so young contributed to it.
We were selling these puppies for $600-$2000 but she told me we couldn't afford better equipment to take care of them. A lot of the money went down my dad's throat, up his nose, in his veins, and in his brain. He's gone now, passed before he reached 50.
I've seen parvo and other viruses run through her kennel due to bad decisions. My mom lamented each time about the amount of money she lost, not at the horror of the death. I've held countless puppies in my bra and in my hands as they breathed their last breath. I've seen puppies and fully adult dogs be thrown in the trash with the dog shit. I watched in utter heart break as weak puppies pushed aside by their mother's were removed and left alone to squeak and squeak until they squeaked their last breath. I always picked them up and comforted them. They didn't squeak and cry so much if I was holding them next to me. The end was easier if I was with them. So I stayed. And died tiny deaths with them.
I've seen more dog fights than I care to think about. Dogs torn apart by other dogs then throw in the trash. Even now, part of my consciousness stays awake at night because I have to be able to hear if there is a fight in the kennels. I don't live there anymore. This definitely contributes to the narcolepsy.
About 4 months ago her kennel burned down. My grandmother and medium support needs autistic cousin saved as many as they could, but the three of them saw the kennel burn and the dogs with it. Less than half survived. I will never forgive my mother for owning the mill that allowed such a horrific thing to happen. It was due to improper wiring and having so much wood. Wooden runs in a wooden building. I will never let go of how much she has hurt my cousin. He is precious and loves those animals.
This has also caused a rift in my family. My uncle was the one who told me that day, and when I called him back he told me that he couldn't comfort my cousin because he was my cousin's dad. I lost it on him. I watched this man neglect his son during my childhood and immediately pawn him off on my grandmother the night my grandfather died. My mom basically raised my cousin because he was so neglectful. The neglect got to me and I made sure he knew it was his decisions that led to this, but that's not what my family heard.
My brother also texted me that day to tell me to call my grandmother. I was trying to reel my emotions in and not make any of this more difficult on her, as I was ready to do not nice things to my mother. When I explained this, my brother decided that that was the straw that broke the camels back and went no contact with me very abruptly after an unnecessarily mean message. I didn't know there were any straws on the camels back, being as he lives states away and has since he was 21. The words in his message made it clear that he thought very poorly of me for a long time. We aren't even 30 yet, but you really only get one time to tell me I don't contribute anything to the world and mean it before you are cut from my life forever. I thought I would have my brother until near the end.......
This has, predictably, been wildly painful for me. I'm cleaning out infected wounds that tell me that products have feelings or that I can't be sad over puppy death. I hate that my brother didn't free himself of my mother's influence and get out of this empathy crushing system we were raised in. I worry about his husband often.
The silver lining, if there is any, is that my family was bad for me and now I've gotten out. I've got a slew of disabilities that they blamed me for, but I don't have to be there anymore. I'm happily married to the amazing man I've been with since highschool and we have a house of our own with two pets. I'm cleaning the wounds, been going to therapy since I was 18, and know that I need to get my psyche cleaned up so I can live a happy, fulfilled life. It's a process, but I've made a lot of good progress. If you made it this far, thanks internet stranger. It's a long, painful read.
Be good. Be safe. Have fun. You deserve goodness.
2024.05.14 04:16 Physical_Car_6468 Some reflections
Long time observer, first time poster.
I was born in ‘92, approximately one year after the last time a major Minnesota sports team won a championship. I’ve lived my whole life in Minnesota save for about a year on and off during the pandemic.
I’m about as passionate of a Minnesota sports fan as they come. Accounting for the few years Minnesota didn’t have a hockey team, the statistical likelihood that no Minnesota sports team has won a championship in my lifetime is about 1%. And that’s truly how it feels being a Minnesota fan. I’m a data nerd, and “for fun” I will occasionally calculate or look up the Minnesota team’s odds of winning. Regularly, I will see 85% near certainty scenarios dwindle to 50, then 30, then 10, then a loss.
I’ve been a Wolves fan since the Billups days and have suffered through the dark days of Randy Foye and Ricky Davis watching most of their games through the whole thing.
A few quick reactions from games 3 & 4 -
1) I couldn’t be more happy none of our boys will be receiving trophies before tomorrow’s tip off
2) as a recent new dad of two, I’m truly happy Rudy had the privilege to be present for the birth of his son. But that’s what it is, a privilege. And after missing game 2, he owes it to his teammates to bring it in a big way. And he hasn’t
3) the coach tearing his knee is so unprecedented in the most Minnesota precedented way
4) the league breaking precedence on suspension criteria is equally “Minnesota precedented”
5) I’m rooting for KAT, he’s trying to be Ant’s equal. I empathize with him and wanting to ball out for his mom on Mother’s Day, but he played out of his mind (not in a good way). KAT needs to be the KAT we’ve seen him be at his best
6) ANT being in Minnesota is the most unprecedented thing of all. This team, franchise, fan base, community needs to rally around the special gift that he is to this community
And I’m here to say despite all the precedented unpresidence, FUCK IT! Fuck the Drake in Kentucky blue memes, saying the fans don’t influence the outcomes. If you’re a wolves fan and you’re invested, put all the fuck it vibes you have at your disposal into the ether. Fuck the statistics! If you’re a religious person, don’t pray for this because it’s important. Pray for this because it’s fun and Minnesota deserves it.
We’re winning this! Herb Brooks style, it’s our time! Wolves Back are the only two words I understand!
submitted by Physical_Car_6468 to timberwolves [link] [comments]
I was born in ‘92, approximately one year after the last time a major Minnesota sports team won a championship. I’ve lived my whole life in Minnesota save for about a year on and off during the pandemic.
I’m about as passionate of a Minnesota sports fan as they come. Accounting for the few years Minnesota didn’t have a hockey team, the statistical likelihood that no Minnesota sports team has won a championship in my lifetime is about 1%. And that’s truly how it feels being a Minnesota fan. I’m a data nerd, and “for fun” I will occasionally calculate or look up the Minnesota team’s odds of winning. Regularly, I will see 85% near certainty scenarios dwindle to 50, then 30, then 10, then a loss.
I’ve been a Wolves fan since the Billups days and have suffered through the dark days of Randy Foye and Ricky Davis watching most of their games through the whole thing.
A few quick reactions from games 3 & 4 -
1) I couldn’t be more happy none of our boys will be receiving trophies before tomorrow’s tip off
2) as a recent new dad of two, I’m truly happy Rudy had the privilege to be present for the birth of his son. But that’s what it is, a privilege. And after missing game 2, he owes it to his teammates to bring it in a big way. And he hasn’t
3) the coach tearing his knee is so unprecedented in the most Minnesota precedented way
4) the league breaking precedence on suspension criteria is equally “Minnesota precedented”
5) I’m rooting for KAT, he’s trying to be Ant’s equal. I empathize with him and wanting to ball out for his mom on Mother’s Day, but he played out of his mind (not in a good way). KAT needs to be the KAT we’ve seen him be at his best
6) ANT being in Minnesota is the most unprecedented thing of all. This team, franchise, fan base, community needs to rally around the special gift that he is to this community
And I’m here to say despite all the precedented unpresidence, FUCK IT! Fuck the Drake in Kentucky blue memes, saying the fans don’t influence the outcomes. If you’re a wolves fan and you’re invested, put all the fuck it vibes you have at your disposal into the ether. Fuck the statistics! If you’re a religious person, don’t pray for this because it’s important. Pray for this because it’s fun and Minnesota deserves it.
We’re winning this! Herb Brooks style, it’s our time! Wolves Back are the only two words I understand!
2024.05.14 04:16 moderndaywizard956 Fallout New Vegas (season 2 fanfiction
2296, The scene is set in a post apocalyptic Mojave desert, 15 years after a joint effort of the New California Republic, the Rangers, and the mysterious benefactor of the New Vegas Strip, Mr. House pushed back an attempted invasion of the Mojave and a final battle was waved for control of the hydroelectric powerhouse, Hoover Damm.
In the aftermath, Mr. House was removed from power discreetly, due to the actions of a wasteland wanderer on a mission for revenge, known only as the Courier. Mr. House's iconic Lucky 38 casino opened its doors, for the first time, offering a single floor casino and bar, it's upstairs remained an exclusive and mysterious meeting place for the New Vegas Strip's elite. The Lucky 38 represented one of the cleanest, most secure facilities, protected, like the rest of the strip, by the Securitron Mk 2, predominantly. Their presence ensured visitors on the Strip behaved themselves, though the other casinos maintained their own security and 'house rules' internally.
The Strip defined and maintained its status as an independent entity, determining through the Courier's observations that the NCR was stretching it's military might too thin, and couldn't realistically manage over the Strip and Mojave, so a new deal was struck, similar to the prior, but with The Strip extending it's Securitron security to enforce the immediately surrounding communities and a few outlying satelites. Trade to the surrounding areas increased, the Mojave benefitting from the prewar tech, pre-programmed security forces. The drug addicted fiends and other Raider groups would never be any match for their advanced weaponry, and ultimately were cleared out of existence.
The King's continued to watch over Freeside, making alliances with the Follower's of the Apocalypse... their desire to service the needs of the belittled, disadvantaged and destitute lined up, and this is where Mr. Wolf found his place in the story... the Courier and a Follower's doctor found love in the wasteland.... and raised a child together under a Ranger's flag... 23 years later? This is New Vegas...
A handsome man in a leather jacket sat in a dusty leather booth watching one of the girls dance on a pole, shaking her ass as bottle caps clinked on the stage in front of her. It was a swanky post apocalyptic casino strip club. A man in a leather jacket stood nearby, his hands crossed in front of his chest, "Kings" embroidered across the back in silver letters. A waitress approached him carrying a glass of some amber colored liquor, and sat it down at the half moon table. She lingered a moment in her lacey body suit, following his gaze up to the girl rubbing her tits in some older cowboys face.
"You don't get jealous seeing her like that, Mr. Wolf." The girl bit her lip and met his eyes as he picked up his glass and swirled it before giving it a smell and taking a slow swig. He tilted his head looking her over. She couldn't possibly be older then 19. Tight, perky little thing.
Mr. Wolf smirked and shook his head. "I like her... nice and wet when she comes to my bed."
The girl blushed and bit her lip. "So you like to watch?" She surmised.
"I don't mind, but why do you ask?" Wolf had these intense eyes that shot arrows into your very soul. It made her incredibly nervous... but she found it deeply exciting at the same time.
"Well... I'm living in 206 now... maybe... you might stop by sometime and I could dance for you? I know I don't have her body but... if you wanted something that was a little fresher... something... just yours?" She figeted her fingers against the table.
Jason looked her over once more and smirked.
"Two-Oh-six, huh?" He tilted his head, considering.
She nodded.
"Leave your cum soaked panties on my doorknob one of these nights if you really need it and maybe I'll come see if you got the moves." His Texan accent was subdued, but enthrallingly charming with his confident, somewhat bored with reality overtones.
"M-my panties?" She stammered turning bright red. "On your doorknob?" Alexa couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"If you're gunna shoot your shot with a dom... with an alpha... you need to be willing to submit. If you can't do that... I'm not interested." Wolf shrugged, completely unphased.
"But what about... what if..." Alexa glanced at Laura, the clubs most iconic stripper in the club, perhaps even the whole Strip.
She was taking some NCR soldier to the VIP lounge for a private dance.
Alexa had been bold enough to offer herself but now she was feeling nervous. If Laura wanted her out, she could lose her job... her home.
"Oh she won't mind... if anything she'll want to watch." Wolf shook his head, sensing her anxiety.
"Assuming of course... she likes the way you smell... she's funny like that." Wolf let the conversation end and Alexa nervously retreated.
Wolf sat drinking by himself, but got bored.
"Jakey, go get yourself a drink and sit down, I'm bored." Wolf called to his body guard.
Jacob looked over and nodded, giving the lounge one last look around before approaching the bar and getting himself a mug of beer, from the tuxedo shirt and boytie bartender Gerald, and returning to the table.
"What's on your mind boss?" Jacob had his hair slicked back in the usual King's gang hairstyle.
"Heard any rumors lately?" Wold looked at him, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the pack over to him.
"Honestly, boss, aside from the occasional drunkard or fiend rolling through freeside, nothing out of the ordinary... well, except... a way's out.. the crazy lady... Gloria was swearing up and down she found a headless metal suit of armor.. said the Enclave would burn down New Vegas. God's wraith and all that, you know how she gets."
"Enclave?" Jason's attention was piqued.
"Yeah, I don't know, she was probably just in withdrawal from the Jet... said she found it in the hollowed out shell of the Super Duper, out by the old highway." Jacob shrugged and drank from his beer and pulled a cigarette from the pack.
Wolf finished the last drag of his own cigarette. "Has anyone validated her claims?"
"Well... no... but... I mean... you've met her, she sees things that aren't there, all the time." Jacob shrugged and lit a cigarette.
Jason squinted, considering the resident crazy ladies most recent half coherent ramblings.
"That's an oddly specific hallucination though....take a group of guys out there tonight... humor me, and make sure she's not right." Wolf lifted his glass.
"Sir?" Jacob raised an eyebrow, thinking surely this could wait until tomorrow.
"Hypothetically" Wolf pondered aloud, "If there was... for some reason, there in-fact was... a pre-war, piece of military tech out there....a T-45, let's say, or T-60, best case scenario? We want it. Even if it's not at 100% capacity? It's fusion core alone... could change up the game for Freeside, something like that could make our tiny little city independent. We wouldn't have to be reliant on the scraps of New Vegas, and forget about the Hoover Dam completely."
Jacob caught Mr. Wolf's drift.. a fusion core could mean producing its own, radiation-free water, it's own electricity.. not just a little, a lot. Powering long dead machines, not to mention the agricultural benefits... producing healthier, higher yield tobacco... expanding their income ten fold.
Jacob suddenly felt like he understood Mr. Wolf's vision for the future.
"I should... go and deploy the King's to investigate." Jacob concluded.
"I think that would be for the best, I can take care of myself here." Wolf waved Jacob off.
Jacob downed his beer and excused himself.
Wolf drank the rest of his whiskey, extinguishing his cigarette.
Laura, the dancer came up to the table, and Wolf motioned to the blushing new waitress for a round, who felt a twinge of jealousy seeing her crush with the most popular stage act in town. She bit her tongue though, bringing over two more heavy pours of whiskey.
Laura eyed the girl as she came and went.
"She likes you." Laura concluded as the waitress walked away.
"Yeah.. I think she does." Mr. Wolf shrugged, flicking her a cigarette.
"The NCR boy liked me." She giggled wiping a little bit of cum from her lips and used half her shot like mouthwash.
"Get anything out of him.. other then.. his seed?" Wolf sighed.
"Of course," She grinned mischievously, "Apparently there's been trouble out West with the Brotherhood. They had some type of skirmish? Apparently NCR lost? NCR was apparently holding some old world tech, I don't know, but apparently it lit up the west coast power grid, like... in it's entirely?" Laura tilted her head to look at him.
"The entire western power grid was lit up by a single piece of tech??" Wolf shook his head at the topless girl beside him.
"Yeah, I had to make him cum twice for more details, but apparently it's the size of a grain of rice, with quote, unlimited energy potential." Laura relayed the information. It seemed more important then a suit of power armor or its fusion core.
"Who else knows about this?" Wolf demanded with his eyebrows squinted against his eyes.
"Anyone with a functional light bulb for... like... three hundred miles?" Laura guessed with a shrug.
"You said... it was the Brotherhood that took the win on the skirmish?" Wolf clarified some details.
"Yeah... rumor has it they have a new up and coming knight that's making waves." Laura shrugged.
"Stay on the rumors... I need details." Mr. Wolf nodded at her, drank his whiskey and stood up, downing his drink.
An energy source that powerful would have a big effect on the balance of power in the Mojave. It could mean a resurrection of the New California Republic to it's former glory and then some, and potentially... might mean a renewed effort to reclaim the western part of the former United States, in time.
submitted by moderndaywizard956 to Fallout [link] [comments]
In the aftermath, Mr. House was removed from power discreetly, due to the actions of a wasteland wanderer on a mission for revenge, known only as the Courier. Mr. House's iconic Lucky 38 casino opened its doors, for the first time, offering a single floor casino and bar, it's upstairs remained an exclusive and mysterious meeting place for the New Vegas Strip's elite. The Lucky 38 represented one of the cleanest, most secure facilities, protected, like the rest of the strip, by the Securitron Mk 2, predominantly. Their presence ensured visitors on the Strip behaved themselves, though the other casinos maintained their own security and 'house rules' internally.
The Strip defined and maintained its status as an independent entity, determining through the Courier's observations that the NCR was stretching it's military might too thin, and couldn't realistically manage over the Strip and Mojave, so a new deal was struck, similar to the prior, but with The Strip extending it's Securitron security to enforce the immediately surrounding communities and a few outlying satelites. Trade to the surrounding areas increased, the Mojave benefitting from the prewar tech, pre-programmed security forces. The drug addicted fiends and other Raider groups would never be any match for their advanced weaponry, and ultimately were cleared out of existence.
The King's continued to watch over Freeside, making alliances with the Follower's of the Apocalypse... their desire to service the needs of the belittled, disadvantaged and destitute lined up, and this is where Mr. Wolf found his place in the story... the Courier and a Follower's doctor found love in the wasteland.... and raised a child together under a Ranger's flag... 23 years later? This is New Vegas...
A handsome man in a leather jacket sat in a dusty leather booth watching one of the girls dance on a pole, shaking her ass as bottle caps clinked on the stage in front of her. It was a swanky post apocalyptic casino strip club. A man in a leather jacket stood nearby, his hands crossed in front of his chest, "Kings" embroidered across the back in silver letters. A waitress approached him carrying a glass of some amber colored liquor, and sat it down at the half moon table. She lingered a moment in her lacey body suit, following his gaze up to the girl rubbing her tits in some older cowboys face.
"You don't get jealous seeing her like that, Mr. Wolf." The girl bit her lip and met his eyes as he picked up his glass and swirled it before giving it a smell and taking a slow swig. He tilted his head looking her over. She couldn't possibly be older then 19. Tight, perky little thing.
Mr. Wolf smirked and shook his head. "I like her... nice and wet when she comes to my bed."
The girl blushed and bit her lip. "So you like to watch?" She surmised.
"I don't mind, but why do you ask?" Wolf had these intense eyes that shot arrows into your very soul. It made her incredibly nervous... but she found it deeply exciting at the same time.
"Well... I'm living in 206 now... maybe... you might stop by sometime and I could dance for you? I know I don't have her body but... if you wanted something that was a little fresher... something... just yours?" She figeted her fingers against the table.
Jason looked her over once more and smirked.
"Two-Oh-six, huh?" He tilted his head, considering.
She nodded.
"Leave your cum soaked panties on my doorknob one of these nights if you really need it and maybe I'll come see if you got the moves." His Texan accent was subdued, but enthrallingly charming with his confident, somewhat bored with reality overtones.
"M-my panties?" She stammered turning bright red. "On your doorknob?" Alexa couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"If you're gunna shoot your shot with a dom... with an alpha... you need to be willing to submit. If you can't do that... I'm not interested." Wolf shrugged, completely unphased.
"But what about... what if..." Alexa glanced at Laura, the clubs most iconic stripper in the club, perhaps even the whole Strip.
She was taking some NCR soldier to the VIP lounge for a private dance.
Alexa had been bold enough to offer herself but now she was feeling nervous. If Laura wanted her out, she could lose her job... her home.
"Oh she won't mind... if anything she'll want to watch." Wolf shook his head, sensing her anxiety.
"Assuming of course... she likes the way you smell... she's funny like that." Wolf let the conversation end and Alexa nervously retreated.
Wolf sat drinking by himself, but got bored.
"Jakey, go get yourself a drink and sit down, I'm bored." Wolf called to his body guard.
Jacob looked over and nodded, giving the lounge one last look around before approaching the bar and getting himself a mug of beer, from the tuxedo shirt and boytie bartender Gerald, and returning to the table.
"What's on your mind boss?" Jacob had his hair slicked back in the usual King's gang hairstyle.
"Heard any rumors lately?" Wold looked at him, taking a drag from his cigarette and flicking the pack over to him.
"Honestly, boss, aside from the occasional drunkard or fiend rolling through freeside, nothing out of the ordinary... well, except... a way's out.. the crazy lady... Gloria was swearing up and down she found a headless metal suit of armor.. said the Enclave would burn down New Vegas. God's wraith and all that, you know how she gets."
"Enclave?" Jason's attention was piqued.
"Yeah, I don't know, she was probably just in withdrawal from the Jet... said she found it in the hollowed out shell of the Super Duper, out by the old highway." Jacob shrugged and drank from his beer and pulled a cigarette from the pack.
Wolf finished the last drag of his own cigarette. "Has anyone validated her claims?"
"Well... no... but... I mean... you've met her, she sees things that aren't there, all the time." Jacob shrugged and lit a cigarette.
Jason squinted, considering the resident crazy ladies most recent half coherent ramblings.
"That's an oddly specific hallucination though....take a group of guys out there tonight... humor me, and make sure she's not right." Wolf lifted his glass.
"Sir?" Jacob raised an eyebrow, thinking surely this could wait until tomorrow.
"Hypothetically" Wolf pondered aloud, "If there was... for some reason, there in-fact was... a pre-war, piece of military tech out there....a T-45, let's say, or T-60, best case scenario? We want it. Even if it's not at 100% capacity? It's fusion core alone... could change up the game for Freeside, something like that could make our tiny little city independent. We wouldn't have to be reliant on the scraps of New Vegas, and forget about the Hoover Dam completely."
Jacob caught Mr. Wolf's drift.. a fusion core could mean producing its own, radiation-free water, it's own electricity.. not just a little, a lot. Powering long dead machines, not to mention the agricultural benefits... producing healthier, higher yield tobacco... expanding their income ten fold.
Jacob suddenly felt like he understood Mr. Wolf's vision for the future.
"I should... go and deploy the King's to investigate." Jacob concluded.
"I think that would be for the best, I can take care of myself here." Wolf waved Jacob off.
Jacob downed his beer and excused himself.
Wolf drank the rest of his whiskey, extinguishing his cigarette.
Laura, the dancer came up to the table, and Wolf motioned to the blushing new waitress for a round, who felt a twinge of jealousy seeing her crush with the most popular stage act in town. She bit her tongue though, bringing over two more heavy pours of whiskey.
Laura eyed the girl as she came and went.
"She likes you." Laura concluded as the waitress walked away.
"Yeah.. I think she does." Mr. Wolf shrugged, flicking her a cigarette.
"The NCR boy liked me." She giggled wiping a little bit of cum from her lips and used half her shot like mouthwash.
"Get anything out of him.. other then.. his seed?" Wolf sighed.
"Of course," She grinned mischievously, "Apparently there's been trouble out West with the Brotherhood. They had some type of skirmish? Apparently NCR lost? NCR was apparently holding some old world tech, I don't know, but apparently it lit up the west coast power grid, like... in it's entirely?" Laura tilted her head to look at him.
"The entire western power grid was lit up by a single piece of tech??" Wolf shook his head at the topless girl beside him.
"Yeah, I had to make him cum twice for more details, but apparently it's the size of a grain of rice, with quote, unlimited energy potential." Laura relayed the information. It seemed more important then a suit of power armor or its fusion core.
"Who else knows about this?" Wolf demanded with his eyebrows squinted against his eyes.
"Anyone with a functional light bulb for... like... three hundred miles?" Laura guessed with a shrug.
"You said... it was the Brotherhood that took the win on the skirmish?" Wolf clarified some details.
"Yeah... rumor has it they have a new up and coming knight that's making waves." Laura shrugged.
"Stay on the rumors... I need details." Mr. Wolf nodded at her, drank his whiskey and stood up, downing his drink.
An energy source that powerful would have a big effect on the balance of power in the Mojave. It could mean a resurrection of the New California Republic to it's former glory and then some, and potentially... might mean a renewed effort to reclaim the western part of the former United States, in time.
2024.05.14 04:16 AlertHistorian3887 81 y/o Mom needs financial assistance and not sure what to do
My husband and I have been married 5 years. My husband comes from a two parent very stable home emotionally and physically. I did not. I was raised by a single mom who is the greatest but she has a hard time setting boundaries.
My 56 year old brother divorced 12 years ago and asked my mom if he could live in her house. He lived there for 11 years and helped my mom financially. He even has his 21 yr old son living there. My mom's house is large enough in a nice area.
My brother has a girlfriend in another city, plans on living with her. He suggested my husband and I rent out our home and move back into my mom's house so we could help her financially and watch over as she has become forgetful at times.
My mother was under alot of stress while my brother lived there and spoke harshly to my mom. She would cry. She often would stay at our house and tell my husband and I that my brother never respects her.
At the time I thought that may not be a bad idea to rent out or sell our home and move back to my mom's house. We do not have kids-just a 3 yr old dog.
My husband and I were going to renovate my mom's house and move to Arizona by late 2025 so my husband can be near his parents and take my mom with us. But I don't like Arizona.
My mom is very dependent upon me. Sometimes it's suffocating. I am her POA. I recently realized upon visiting my mom, I could not live there again. It's like the vibe there is off. My brother told me that he planned on coming to my mom's house with his gf during hurricane season since they will be living near the ocean.
I get panic attacks just thinking about that! My husband suggested my mom live in our home but it's two stories and I worry about her and the stairs. She recently had tests for dementia and we get the results this month from neurologist.
She only gets social security and would not be able to live on that by herself. Independent Adult living facilities are $4,000/month. My mom does not want that.
She can walk on her own. Walks the dog for 45 minutes, she can drive, a very youthful 81 yr old. But the stress of her being around my brother has weighed her down emotionally.
I am not sure what to do. It's really bothering me. I love the home and lifestyle my husband and I have. When I'm at my moms I can't wait to leave to be back home-the energy in our home is lighter. Even my mom loves to spend the weekend at our house because she feels happy and can rest.
At her house she must take sleeping medicine but not at our house. My brother and nephew do not talk to her much and she tells me she feels alone and isolated. I feel quite stressed about this.
Thank you
submitted by AlertHistorian3887 to Marriage [link] [comments]
My 56 year old brother divorced 12 years ago and asked my mom if he could live in her house. He lived there for 11 years and helped my mom financially. He even has his 21 yr old son living there. My mom's house is large enough in a nice area.
My brother has a girlfriend in another city, plans on living with her. He suggested my husband and I rent out our home and move back into my mom's house so we could help her financially and watch over as she has become forgetful at times.
My mother was under alot of stress while my brother lived there and spoke harshly to my mom. She would cry. She often would stay at our house and tell my husband and I that my brother never respects her.
At the time I thought that may not be a bad idea to rent out or sell our home and move back to my mom's house. We do not have kids-just a 3 yr old dog.
My husband and I were going to renovate my mom's house and move to Arizona by late 2025 so my husband can be near his parents and take my mom with us. But I don't like Arizona.
My mom is very dependent upon me. Sometimes it's suffocating. I am her POA. I recently realized upon visiting my mom, I could not live there again. It's like the vibe there is off. My brother told me that he planned on coming to my mom's house with his gf during hurricane season since they will be living near the ocean.
I get panic attacks just thinking about that! My husband suggested my mom live in our home but it's two stories and I worry about her and the stairs. She recently had tests for dementia and we get the results this month from neurologist.
She only gets social security and would not be able to live on that by herself. Independent Adult living facilities are $4,000/month. My mom does not want that.
She can walk on her own. Walks the dog for 45 minutes, she can drive, a very youthful 81 yr old. But the stress of her being around my brother has weighed her down emotionally.
I am not sure what to do. It's really bothering me. I love the home and lifestyle my husband and I have. When I'm at my moms I can't wait to leave to be back home-the energy in our home is lighter. Even my mom loves to spend the weekend at our house because she feels happy and can rest.
At her house she must take sleeping medicine but not at our house. My brother and nephew do not talk to her much and she tells me she feels alone and isolated. I feel quite stressed about this.
Thank you
2024.05.14 04:09 Sure-Office-8178 How To Reignite My Faith
I (19F) grew up in a strict scripturally-focused non-denominational church that focused more on intelligence than emotion and spirituality. While in many ways I'm thankful for the experience, it also misled me on many things and has left me spiritually unfulfilled. My family is Christian, but my parents aren't that devout and their faith has never been their own, it's all my controlling religion-obsessed grandmother's.
Her devotion kept her children with a horribly abusive father for over 20 years since she was waiting on a biblical reason to divorce. It's hard for me to live with that fact and be okay with the existence of God and His restrictions on divorce, as the situation permanently ruined my family in ways that can never be repaired and still affect us.
My church also never had an active youth ministry because since I was in the nursery class, it was always just me and one other boy. He sadly took his own life as we entered the teen class, so I was left alone and because of what happened, no one wanted to touch that class. Then COVID hit and once again, I was left on my own. Our church was mostly old people, so online services were barely audible and other churches we tried seemed to put too much emphasis on presentation and less on meaningful content.
My family left this church because of the lack of youth and for a lot of other reasons, as well as my mom breaking away from her own mother's control. We've tried other churches, but nothing has been a good fit.
I've broken away from the faith. I don't have any. Because I grew up in Christianity, becoming a Christian was an obligation and as I branch out into other churches...I don't even know how to do that anymore. I'm not baptized (my church believed you're not a Christian until baptism) because I honestly have never believed. I may understand the Bible, but it doesn't mean anything to me. It's never helped me, prayer has never done anything for me. I don't find the Bible empowering or comforting because it's so distant from today and I'm on the autism spectrum and have a strong dislike of envisioning human faces. I would rather the Bible be about blobs of energy or animals rather than people because having to imagine people gives me deep discomfort and triggers my sensory issues. Also, since I am a woman, it really angers me to read about the so-called limitations placed on what my gender can and can't do. I grew up watching men always leading as women actually do everything for them but don't even get to speak for themselves. It's bothered me since I was a little girl and even if it is unbiblical, I can't see myself endorsing or supporting a place where women can't teach, pray, or even speak, like the church I grew up in.
I don't get the basics anymore. Why being a sinner is a bad thing, the point of prayer, salvation, why would I even want to be a Christian, etc. Nothing in Christianity entices me or makes me want to conform to it. It won't cure my disabilities, give me wealth, or fix a toxic family history. I can't be forgiven by the actual people I seek forgiveness from, who may still hold grudges against me...I don't see the point of it. I haven't since I was a child.
I really don't have an open mind anymore. I don't trust Christian research or science, it has such a history of false claims. I don't trust Christian content creators and there's so many that give me a good reason not to. Trust issues also run in the family, I was raised by two victims of severe child abuse who continue to be paranoid and distrustful well into adulthood.
Talking to people quickly turns to arguments, as I present question after question, counter after counter, and it feels like I just get vague reasoning in return. I relate to people who've left Christianity more than those in it. I want to be a Christian, solely to tick off the checkmark that's been instilled in me. Being a Christian is like graduating and getting a job, it's an obligation to fulfill for me.
Christianity bears no benefit, no meaning, and no point as far as I can see.
It's never been pleasant for me. Reading the Bible is confusing, going to or watching churches is the most grating experience on earth, and surrounding myself with other Christians is only an invitation to fake smiles, fake friendships, drama, and gossip. I grew up long enough in the community to know this.
I have a lot of alone time this summer and I wanted to use it to really work on my spiritual health. I just don't know how to start since I've completely turned away from it all.
Any advice would be welcome, but unfortunately, that does not mean it will be taken.
submitted by Sure-Office-8178 to Christianity [link] [comments]
Her devotion kept her children with a horribly abusive father for over 20 years since she was waiting on a biblical reason to divorce. It's hard for me to live with that fact and be okay with the existence of God and His restrictions on divorce, as the situation permanently ruined my family in ways that can never be repaired and still affect us.
My church also never had an active youth ministry because since I was in the nursery class, it was always just me and one other boy. He sadly took his own life as we entered the teen class, so I was left alone and because of what happened, no one wanted to touch that class. Then COVID hit and once again, I was left on my own. Our church was mostly old people, so online services were barely audible and other churches we tried seemed to put too much emphasis on presentation and less on meaningful content.
My family left this church because of the lack of youth and for a lot of other reasons, as well as my mom breaking away from her own mother's control. We've tried other churches, but nothing has been a good fit.
I've broken away from the faith. I don't have any. Because I grew up in Christianity, becoming a Christian was an obligation and as I branch out into other churches...I don't even know how to do that anymore. I'm not baptized (my church believed you're not a Christian until baptism) because I honestly have never believed. I may understand the Bible, but it doesn't mean anything to me. It's never helped me, prayer has never done anything for me. I don't find the Bible empowering or comforting because it's so distant from today and I'm on the autism spectrum and have a strong dislike of envisioning human faces. I would rather the Bible be about blobs of energy or animals rather than people because having to imagine people gives me deep discomfort and triggers my sensory issues. Also, since I am a woman, it really angers me to read about the so-called limitations placed on what my gender can and can't do. I grew up watching men always leading as women actually do everything for them but don't even get to speak for themselves. It's bothered me since I was a little girl and even if it is unbiblical, I can't see myself endorsing or supporting a place where women can't teach, pray, or even speak, like the church I grew up in.
I don't get the basics anymore. Why being a sinner is a bad thing, the point of prayer, salvation, why would I even want to be a Christian, etc. Nothing in Christianity entices me or makes me want to conform to it. It won't cure my disabilities, give me wealth, or fix a toxic family history. I can't be forgiven by the actual people I seek forgiveness from, who may still hold grudges against me...I don't see the point of it. I haven't since I was a child.
I really don't have an open mind anymore. I don't trust Christian research or science, it has such a history of false claims. I don't trust Christian content creators and there's so many that give me a good reason not to. Trust issues also run in the family, I was raised by two victims of severe child abuse who continue to be paranoid and distrustful well into adulthood.
Talking to people quickly turns to arguments, as I present question after question, counter after counter, and it feels like I just get vague reasoning in return. I relate to people who've left Christianity more than those in it. I want to be a Christian, solely to tick off the checkmark that's been instilled in me. Being a Christian is like graduating and getting a job, it's an obligation to fulfill for me.
Christianity bears no benefit, no meaning, and no point as far as I can see.
It's never been pleasant for me. Reading the Bible is confusing, going to or watching churches is the most grating experience on earth, and surrounding myself with other Christians is only an invitation to fake smiles, fake friendships, drama, and gossip. I grew up long enough in the community to know this.
I have a lot of alone time this summer and I wanted to use it to really work on my spiritual health. I just don't know how to start since I've completely turned away from it all.
Any advice would be welcome, but unfortunately, that does not mean it will be taken.
2024.05.14 04:07 gunsuka Knitting or coloring videos start playing?!?
 | My mother is using a FireTV to watch YouTube. She claims knitting or coloring videos start playing at the end of videos she actually wants to watch. submitted by gunsuka to youtube [link] [comments] For example, she might be watching a video by BBC or CNN 45 minutes long. Somewhere near the end, the video will start showing some hands (usually just hands and no speaking) and they are doing knitting or coloring. Of course, I assume she is nuts. Yesterday she FaceTime's and showed me. She could actually rewind and it would show CNN and then bang some girl coloring starts. Rewind and you are back to CNN, so it is not like it is advancing to another video. She does not watch knitting or coloring videos, so it is not like it is advancing to the next video. Today she took a couple screenshots, she is clearing watching Morning Joe and at the end the knitting hands show up! I loaded up the exact same video she was watching, go to the same time marker as shown in the photo - no knitting hands. What the heck is going on? https://preview.redd.it/lpk0u2p6va0d1.jpg?width=4032&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4ea1676f3040491144b6d9c26e7840b88d1a2dbe |
2024.05.14 04:05 AdTechnical3655 ChildHood Neglect from a Christian mother.
Normally, Reddit is not the first place that I would go looking for answers. But I feel like getting different view points would help me to progress the can of worms I opened.
When I was a boy my mother was a “Hardcore Catholic” woman. She would go to mass every day, rosary every day, 3 day retreats very frequently. The typical Catholic experience if you will.
She was a “good mom”. She made sure that I had what I needed, always fed, and never complained whenever I would do something bad in school. Of course I would get the talking to when I got home, but my mom always held out faith that I would break these bad habits. Which I did.
Just some quick context into my moms story, my mom practically raised 3 boys by herself while being a single mom. Only kicker is that im an only child. The other 2 were my aunts sons. Who she left to my moms care here in the states while she was living in Dominican Republic. Just like me they were trouble makers, more so than me, because they would always get suspended from school and were in and out of the hospital due to gang violence. Needless to say, my mom has also had it rough.
Now, on paper as I was saying before. She was a good mom. But recently I’ve been reflecting a lot on my past and how far I’ve come, but something strange happened. Memories started to flood my brain of all the times that my mom wasn’t there for me at home. Back then I didn’t realize it but all these years later these memories have surfaced. Yes she would make an effort, but it was never enough for a growing boy who only had one parent in his life. She cared so much more about church that at times she neglected my emotional needs, she never taught me how to control my emotions, she encouraged my laziness. She would give me my Xbox remote while she would work on her next teachings for her retreats. But wouldn’t sit with me and ask me how I’m doing. And I always had so much to say.
I was never heard, I was never sat with, and I was always alone. Watching my mom raise kids not of her own.
Now I know why you’re thinking. She sounds like a superwoman taking on so many responsibilities at once. But it hurt growing up never really having a parent to talk to and hear my problems.
I lack communication skills, I don’t know how to talk about my feelings, and the only way I can ever truly be myself is when I’m playing my Xbox. That feels like my safe space, it feels like it’s always been there for me whenever she wasn’t.
With all that being said, am I wrong for holding some kind of resentment towards my mom? My mom is great, and honestly did a better job than most moms. So for that I’m greatful, but I don’t believe every relationship is perfect.
Am I a jerk for having these thoughts? Or are my feelings valid? Idc tell me if I sound selfish.
submitted by AdTechnical3655 to Christianity [link] [comments]
When I was a boy my mother was a “Hardcore Catholic” woman. She would go to mass every day, rosary every day, 3 day retreats very frequently. The typical Catholic experience if you will.
She was a “good mom”. She made sure that I had what I needed, always fed, and never complained whenever I would do something bad in school. Of course I would get the talking to when I got home, but my mom always held out faith that I would break these bad habits. Which I did.
Just some quick context into my moms story, my mom practically raised 3 boys by herself while being a single mom. Only kicker is that im an only child. The other 2 were my aunts sons. Who she left to my moms care here in the states while she was living in Dominican Republic. Just like me they were trouble makers, more so than me, because they would always get suspended from school and were in and out of the hospital due to gang violence. Needless to say, my mom has also had it rough.
Now, on paper as I was saying before. She was a good mom. But recently I’ve been reflecting a lot on my past and how far I’ve come, but something strange happened. Memories started to flood my brain of all the times that my mom wasn’t there for me at home. Back then I didn’t realize it but all these years later these memories have surfaced. Yes she would make an effort, but it was never enough for a growing boy who only had one parent in his life. She cared so much more about church that at times she neglected my emotional needs, she never taught me how to control my emotions, she encouraged my laziness. She would give me my Xbox remote while she would work on her next teachings for her retreats. But wouldn’t sit with me and ask me how I’m doing. And I always had so much to say.
I was never heard, I was never sat with, and I was always alone. Watching my mom raise kids not of her own.
Now I know why you’re thinking. She sounds like a superwoman taking on so many responsibilities at once. But it hurt growing up never really having a parent to talk to and hear my problems.
I lack communication skills, I don’t know how to talk about my feelings, and the only way I can ever truly be myself is when I’m playing my Xbox. That feels like my safe space, it feels like it’s always been there for me whenever she wasn’t.
With all that being said, am I wrong for holding some kind of resentment towards my mom? My mom is great, and honestly did a better job than most moms. So for that I’m greatful, but I don’t believe every relationship is perfect.
Am I a jerk for having these thoughts? Or are my feelings valid? Idc tell me if I sound selfish.
2024.05.14 04:03 GeoffKingOfBiscuits It's being awhile but I haven't been able to put into words how much I miss my cat.
I saw someone's post about their cat having trouble and I ended up drafting this which is a real get off my chest moment about my cat so I figured I would post it somewhere.
I lost my cat of 15-16 years last October. I had him since he was about 4-6 months old. He was my only pet since living on my own. For context my grandparents were all gone before I was five, I lost my father when I was 14, and recently lost my older brother a couple years ago. I only have my Mother left. Despite that my cat has affected me more. I've moved multiple times and it's taken a minute for him to get adjusted but once he was good again he was always there for me. He helped me when my fiancé dumped me. He was there when a lost a good job and had to scrap looking for another one.
We were good for awhile until he was hesitate to eat. I didn't get him checked up often because he hated being in a carrier and in vehicles. I did make him go once that happened because he was always a food monster. I got him to the vet and had him checked out and did blood tests as well. He told me to take him to hospital to get an ultrasound to figure out if there was a digestive system issue. Ultrasound came back and it looked like cancer across his digestive system. They gave me the choice of doing surgery and saving as much good of his intestines that were left or to put him on chemo. Both of which was going to be thousands of dollars. I hate to talk about money in this but I don't have that much. They wouldn't give me an answer on what to expect on any outcome so I asked for him to be put down. I initially asked for him to be put down without me because I could barely say the words out loud but then said I should be there for him like he was always there for me.
I got there in a cold room. They brought him in half dazed from the ultrasound. He was still my cat but barely. The vet gave him the shot to stop his heart and while doing so he took a big breath and sigh. That was his last one. Vet confirmed he was gone after.
I don't know if I made the right call but I didn't want to watch him suffer anymore nor worse than he already was. If it was myself I would ask to go at some point too. He was there for me most of my life and was there for almost all of his. I want another cat for company but I'll never think of them as an replacement for him.
https://imgur.com/Jyj1k.jpg
https://imgur.com/CokUZX0.jpg
https://imgur.com/sQ9tssg.png
https://imgur.com/LvR0lDa.jpg
https://imgur.com/y5Bjioc.jpg
https://imgur.com/ZQZzlsm.png
submitted by GeoffKingOfBiscuits to cats [link] [comments]
I lost my cat of 15-16 years last October. I had him since he was about 4-6 months old. He was my only pet since living on my own. For context my grandparents were all gone before I was five, I lost my father when I was 14, and recently lost my older brother a couple years ago. I only have my Mother left. Despite that my cat has affected me more. I've moved multiple times and it's taken a minute for him to get adjusted but once he was good again he was always there for me. He helped me when my fiancé dumped me. He was there when a lost a good job and had to scrap looking for another one.
We were good for awhile until he was hesitate to eat. I didn't get him checked up often because he hated being in a carrier and in vehicles. I did make him go once that happened because he was always a food monster. I got him to the vet and had him checked out and did blood tests as well. He told me to take him to hospital to get an ultrasound to figure out if there was a digestive system issue. Ultrasound came back and it looked like cancer across his digestive system. They gave me the choice of doing surgery and saving as much good of his intestines that were left or to put him on chemo. Both of which was going to be thousands of dollars. I hate to talk about money in this but I don't have that much. They wouldn't give me an answer on what to expect on any outcome so I asked for him to be put down. I initially asked for him to be put down without me because I could barely say the words out loud but then said I should be there for him like he was always there for me.
I got there in a cold room. They brought him in half dazed from the ultrasound. He was still my cat but barely. The vet gave him the shot to stop his heart and while doing so he took a big breath and sigh. That was his last one. Vet confirmed he was gone after.
I don't know if I made the right call but I didn't want to watch him suffer anymore nor worse than he already was. If it was myself I would ask to go at some point too. He was there for me most of my life and was there for almost all of his. I want another cat for company but I'll never think of them as an replacement for him.
https://imgur.com/Jyj1k.jpg
https://imgur.com/CokUZX0.jpg
https://imgur.com/sQ9tssg.png
https://imgur.com/LvR0lDa.jpg
https://imgur.com/y5Bjioc.jpg
https://imgur.com/ZQZzlsm.png
2024.05.14 04:02 Reisende8 Relationship help - should I stay?
Dear Reddit community,
I need some relationship life advice.
I (23 female) am currently involved with a 27 (male) partner. I love him and he loves me, but I often wonder if our relationship is worth continuing. Half the time we are each others' best friend and lovers and we get along amazingly... however the other half of the time we argue over the stupidest things and the arguments go round and round in circles for a while (and I'm not joking, we argue SO fucking much). To give an example, just this past weekend I drove up to see him as well as celebrate his friends' family visiting from South America (we are long distance) and on the car ride there, I ask if we are staying in his motorhome he has there. He wouldn't give me a straight answer and I was wanting to know so that 1) we could save money instead of going to a hotel 2) we wouldn't have to worry about checkout times 3) I wanted to know where the hell I was driving to! Instead of giving me a straight answer about why he preferred to stay at a hotel, he went round in circles and got upset that I was asking. We eventually figured that argument out and it turns out he didn't want to stay in the motorhome because he still needed to clean it and he didn't want to welcome me in that kind of environment (the next day we went to his motorhome so I could help him organise).
That same night when we're celebrating his friend and her family, he starts smoking his friend's vape and is attached to it pretty much the whole night. Obviously it is his choice what he does with his body, but it sucks when your partner tells you he quite vaping/smoking and then as soon as he has the opportunity he picks it right back up again and blames his friends for his vaping problem. The group was playing some fun Brazilian music to dance to, and so I go up to my partner to ask him to dance with me and I playfully try to push the vape away from his hand (he was just sitting there vaping). I didn't slap his hand, I didn't forcefully take it away from him, I wasn't disrespectful in anyway - I was just trying to be playful and was hoping he would put it down and dance with me. I allowed my expectations to upset me. I was expecting/hoping that he would put it down and dance with me. Instead, he was like "not now babe" and reaches for another hit of nicotine. I got upset by this because we haven't seen each other in over a month, we only have a few hours together, and first he gets weird/upset about the motorhome thing and then it feels like he chooses spending time with the vape over dancing with the person he calls the love of his life. (and maybe I am overreacting with this particular situation, it just hurts watching him hurt his health like that then blame his friends and it feels like my partner has no self control when it comes to that kind of stuff).
That was Friday. On Sunday morning, his alarm went off at 6 am which of course also woke me up. He started getting up/moving around/making a bunch of noise, and I try asking him what's going on. No response. I ask again and I ask "Do we really need to be awake at 6?" because in my mind his flight back to his state isn't until the afternoon and I was the one taking him to the airport so do I need to start getting ready too?? like why are you up so early? can you please explain what is happening? Like the motorhome situation - in which he would not clearly explain what was going on - he just got mad at me saying I was tripping about the alarm and that I shouldn't ask him questions in that kind of tone of voice (what tone of voice?!?!?). He just started getting so upset that I asked if we needed to be up at that time and I was so confused by his response because it really didn't seem fair to me. When he got back in bed I did not want to be touched by him - I was so sad that I feel like I can't even ask my partner simple questions without him getting upset. He tried to go on explaining why I shouldn't ask questions like that and justifying his response. I get first thing in the morning after not much sleep people can be a little cranky, but dude to tell me I'm tripping and then evading my one question/getting defensive? not cool to me. After it's clear I'm not buying his response, he apologises and asks me to forgive his reaction, which I do and we're back to being fine. That day before dropping him at the airport, we drop off some his clothes we organised at the donation centre and then he realises he can't find his car or motorhome keys. so we spend the whole time before the airport with me driving him around to various locations to find his keys, we search my whole car, he has me search my entire bag... we can't find the fucking keys anywhere. But we were both like, no worries, they will show up somewhere. And we had a good time about it. No arguments, no complaints, he was grateful that I was helping him with his shit.
The next morning I find them in my car and I send him a picture with "omg babe, guess what I just found!" and instead of being relieved/happy that I found them, he BLAMES ME for not having seen the keys before. to be clear, I never once touched his motorhome keys. I had no idea until Sunday morning that we would even be looking for them. He blames ME for HIM losing HIS keys. I wouldn't take that shit from him. Then he went on saying that I need to "centre myself," that he has a right to feel the way he does blah blah, and sure he has a right to feel whatever he desires, but he has no right to blame me for anything! especially after I spent a good amount of time and fuel helping him do things he should've figured out on his own a long time ago and it is so easy to ship him the keys. not a big problem at all. and when I sent the key picture, he had a New York bottle opener on the keychain, and I was like "oh cool! Have you been to New York??" with the intention of getting to know my partner better - I think it's could he potentially took a trip there and I was asking in a light hearted way and his response (over voice message) was a sarcastic "yeah babe, I go there every weekend." Again, I don't understand this response. I don't understand why my question was so bad and why he felt like avoiding it? Maybe he was stressed about the whole key situation/ feeling jet lagged from the flight. But still. it sucked. I basically told him that I wouldn't take this shit from him that he cannot blame me and not take ownership of his own shit.
I just don't understand. I also have such a hard time leaving him. I tried before in the past - I felt pressured to move to Florida with him; he talked a lot about moving into together, having kids, etc etc and it was just moving too fast for me and I felt like I needed to leave because I can't give those things to him right now and it's not fair if that is something he wants and for me to stay in the relationship wanting different things at the moment. He convinces me to stay with him, saying he can wait for those things, but doesn't want to lose me. I stayed.
I'm just sooooo tired of these arguments! I'm tired of feeling like I can't ask basic questions without him getting upset. I'm tired of being made out to be the bad guy when I'm clearly not at fault. I'm tired of feeling like I acquiesce to him. I sometimes feel like he needs me more than I need him and I don't want to be his mother cleaning up after him/keeping track of his shit and then getting blamed when I don't know where HIS things are.
And we have silly arguments like this so much in the past too. I feel like maybe I'm deluding myself thinking that when we are together for longing periods of time that we won't argue so much - that it's the stress of travel that causes us to bicker. or that I'm holding on to the really good parts of the relationship where we make each other laugh so hard and we can meaningful conversations. I worry that if we do someday have kids that they won't be able to come to him without him getting upset/weird/non-communicative. *sigh* what do I do? I know I just talked about the arguments of this past weekend so this post feels a little biased. But I feel stuck. Part of feels like maybe I should leave him, but the other part of me sticks it out. Am I secretly addicted to the drama? Or maybe I don't have a strong enough will
submitted by Reisende8 to dating_advice [link] [comments]
I need some relationship life advice.
I (23 female) am currently involved with a 27 (male) partner. I love him and he loves me, but I often wonder if our relationship is worth continuing. Half the time we are each others' best friend and lovers and we get along amazingly... however the other half of the time we argue over the stupidest things and the arguments go round and round in circles for a while (and I'm not joking, we argue SO fucking much). To give an example, just this past weekend I drove up to see him as well as celebrate his friends' family visiting from South America (we are long distance) and on the car ride there, I ask if we are staying in his motorhome he has there. He wouldn't give me a straight answer and I was wanting to know so that 1) we could save money instead of going to a hotel 2) we wouldn't have to worry about checkout times 3) I wanted to know where the hell I was driving to! Instead of giving me a straight answer about why he preferred to stay at a hotel, he went round in circles and got upset that I was asking. We eventually figured that argument out and it turns out he didn't want to stay in the motorhome because he still needed to clean it and he didn't want to welcome me in that kind of environment (the next day we went to his motorhome so I could help him organise).
That same night when we're celebrating his friend and her family, he starts smoking his friend's vape and is attached to it pretty much the whole night. Obviously it is his choice what he does with his body, but it sucks when your partner tells you he quite vaping/smoking and then as soon as he has the opportunity he picks it right back up again and blames his friends for his vaping problem. The group was playing some fun Brazilian music to dance to, and so I go up to my partner to ask him to dance with me and I playfully try to push the vape away from his hand (he was just sitting there vaping). I didn't slap his hand, I didn't forcefully take it away from him, I wasn't disrespectful in anyway - I was just trying to be playful and was hoping he would put it down and dance with me. I allowed my expectations to upset me. I was expecting/hoping that he would put it down and dance with me. Instead, he was like "not now babe" and reaches for another hit of nicotine. I got upset by this because we haven't seen each other in over a month, we only have a few hours together, and first he gets weird/upset about the motorhome thing and then it feels like he chooses spending time with the vape over dancing with the person he calls the love of his life. (and maybe I am overreacting with this particular situation, it just hurts watching him hurt his health like that then blame his friends and it feels like my partner has no self control when it comes to that kind of stuff).
That was Friday. On Sunday morning, his alarm went off at 6 am which of course also woke me up. He started getting up/moving around/making a bunch of noise, and I try asking him what's going on. No response. I ask again and I ask "Do we really need to be awake at 6?" because in my mind his flight back to his state isn't until the afternoon and I was the one taking him to the airport so do I need to start getting ready too?? like why are you up so early? can you please explain what is happening? Like the motorhome situation - in which he would not clearly explain what was going on - he just got mad at me saying I was tripping about the alarm and that I shouldn't ask him questions in that kind of tone of voice (what tone of voice?!?!?). He just started getting so upset that I asked if we needed to be up at that time and I was so confused by his response because it really didn't seem fair to me. When he got back in bed I did not want to be touched by him - I was so sad that I feel like I can't even ask my partner simple questions without him getting upset. He tried to go on explaining why I shouldn't ask questions like that and justifying his response. I get first thing in the morning after not much sleep people can be a little cranky, but dude to tell me I'm tripping and then evading my one question/getting defensive? not cool to me. After it's clear I'm not buying his response, he apologises and asks me to forgive his reaction, which I do and we're back to being fine. That day before dropping him at the airport, we drop off some his clothes we organised at the donation centre and then he realises he can't find his car or motorhome keys. so we spend the whole time before the airport with me driving him around to various locations to find his keys, we search my whole car, he has me search my entire bag... we can't find the fucking keys anywhere. But we were both like, no worries, they will show up somewhere. And we had a good time about it. No arguments, no complaints, he was grateful that I was helping him with his shit.
The next morning I find them in my car and I send him a picture with "omg babe, guess what I just found!" and instead of being relieved/happy that I found them, he BLAMES ME for not having seen the keys before. to be clear, I never once touched his motorhome keys. I had no idea until Sunday morning that we would even be looking for them. He blames ME for HIM losing HIS keys. I wouldn't take that shit from him. Then he went on saying that I need to "centre myself," that he has a right to feel the way he does blah blah, and sure he has a right to feel whatever he desires, but he has no right to blame me for anything! especially after I spent a good amount of time and fuel helping him do things he should've figured out on his own a long time ago and it is so easy to ship him the keys. not a big problem at all. and when I sent the key picture, he had a New York bottle opener on the keychain, and I was like "oh cool! Have you been to New York??" with the intention of getting to know my partner better - I think it's could he potentially took a trip there and I was asking in a light hearted way and his response (over voice message) was a sarcastic "yeah babe, I go there every weekend." Again, I don't understand this response. I don't understand why my question was so bad and why he felt like avoiding it? Maybe he was stressed about the whole key situation/ feeling jet lagged from the flight. But still. it sucked. I basically told him that I wouldn't take this shit from him that he cannot blame me and not take ownership of his own shit.
I just don't understand. I also have such a hard time leaving him. I tried before in the past - I felt pressured to move to Florida with him; he talked a lot about moving into together, having kids, etc etc and it was just moving too fast for me and I felt like I needed to leave because I can't give those things to him right now and it's not fair if that is something he wants and for me to stay in the relationship wanting different things at the moment. He convinces me to stay with him, saying he can wait for those things, but doesn't want to lose me. I stayed.
I'm just sooooo tired of these arguments! I'm tired of feeling like I can't ask basic questions without him getting upset. I'm tired of being made out to be the bad guy when I'm clearly not at fault. I'm tired of feeling like I acquiesce to him. I sometimes feel like he needs me more than I need him and I don't want to be his mother cleaning up after him/keeping track of his shit and then getting blamed when I don't know where HIS things are.
And we have silly arguments like this so much in the past too. I feel like maybe I'm deluding myself thinking that when we are together for longing periods of time that we won't argue so much - that it's the stress of travel that causes us to bicker. or that I'm holding on to the really good parts of the relationship where we make each other laugh so hard and we can meaningful conversations. I worry that if we do someday have kids that they won't be able to come to him without him getting upset/weird/non-communicative. *sigh* what do I do? I know I just talked about the arguments of this past weekend so this post feels a little biased. But I feel stuck. Part of feels like maybe I should leave him, but the other part of me sticks it out. Am I secretly addicted to the drama? Or maybe I don't have a strong enough will
2024.05.14 04:01 Reisende8 Relationship Help - should I stay or go? 23/F with 27/M for one year relationship
Dear Reddit community,
I need some relationship life advice.
I '23/F' am currently involved with a '27/M' partner for a year now. I love him and he loves me, but I often wonder if our relationship is worth continuing. Half the time we are each others' best friend and lovers and we get along amazingly... however the other half of the time we argue over the stupidest things and the arguments go round and round in circles for a while (and I'm not joking, we argue SO fucking much). To give an example, just this past weekend I drove up to see him as well as celebrate his friends' family visiting from South America (we are long distance) and on the car ride there, I ask if we are staying in his motorhome he has there. He wouldn't give me a straight answer and I was wanting to know so that 1) we could save money instead of going to a hotel 2) we wouldn't have to worry about checkout times 3) I wanted to know where the hell I was driving to! Instead of giving me a straight answer about why he preferred to stay at a hotel, he went round in circles and got upset that I was asking. We eventually figured that argument out and it turns out he didn't want to stay in the motorhome because he still needed to clean it and he didn't want to welcome me in that kind of environment (the next day we went to his motorhome so I could help him organise).
That same night when we're celebrating his friend and her family, he starts smoking his friend's vape and is attached to it pretty much the whole night. Obviously it is his choice what he does with his body, but it sucks when your partner tells you he quite vaping/smoking and then as soon as he has the opportunity he picks it right back up again and blames his friends for his vaping problem. The group was playing some fun Brazilian music to dance to, and so I go up to my partner to ask him to dance with me and I playfully try to push the vape away from his hand (he was just sitting there vaping). I didn't slap his hand, I didn't forcefully take it away from him, I wasn't disrespectful in anyway - I was just trying to be playful and was hoping he would put it down and dance with me. I allowed my expectations to upset me. I was expecting/hoping that he would put it down and dance with me. Instead, he was like "not now babe" and reaches for another hit of nicotine. I got upset by this because we haven't seen each other in over a month, we only have a few hours together, and first he gets weird/upset about the motorhome thing and then it feels like he chooses spending time with the vape over dancing with the person he calls the love of his life. (and maybe I am overreacting with this particular situation, it just hurts watching him hurt his health like that then blame his friends and it feels like my partner has no self control when it comes to that kind of stuff).
That was Friday. On Sunday morning, his alarm went off at 6 am which of course also woke me up. He started getting up/moving around/making a bunch of noise, and I try asking him what's going on. No response. I ask again and I ask "Do we really need to be awake at 6?" because in my mind his flight back to his state isn't until the afternoon and I was the one taking him to the airport so do I need to start getting ready too?? like why are you up so early? can you please explain what is happening? Like the motorhome situation - in which he would not clearly explain what was going on - he just got mad at me saying I was tripping about the alarm and that I shouldn't ask him questions in that kind of tone of voice (what tone of voice?!?!?). He just started getting so upset that I asked if we needed to be up at that time and I was so confused by his response because it really didn't seem fair to me. When he got back in bed I did not want to be touched by him - I was so sad that I feel like I can't even ask my partner simple questions without him getting upset. He tried to go on explaining why I shouldn't ask questions like that and justifying his response. I get first thing in the morning after not much sleep people can be a little cranky, but dude to tell me I'm tripping and then evading my one question/getting defensive? not cool to me. After it's clear I'm not buying his response, he apologises and asks me to forgive his reaction, which I do and we're back to being fine. That day before dropping him at the airport, we drop off some his clothes we organised at the donation centre and then he realises he can't find his car or motorhome keys. so we spend the whole time before the airport with me driving him around to various locations to find his keys, we search my whole car, he has me search my entire bag... we can't find the fucking keys anywhere. But we were both like, no worries, they will show up somewhere. And we had a good time about it. No arguments, no complaints, he was grateful that I was helping him with his shit.
The next morning I find them in my car and I send him a picture with "omg babe, guess what I just found!" and instead of being relieved/happy that I found them, he BLAMES ME for not having seen the keys before. to be clear, I never once touched his motorhome keys. I had no idea until Sunday morning that we would even be looking for them. He blames ME for HIM losing HIS keys. I wouldn't take that shit from him. Then he went on saying that I need to "centre myself," that he has a right to feel the way he does blah blah, and sure he has a right to feel whatever he desires, but he has no right to blame me for anything! especially after I spent a good amount of time and fuel helping him do things he should've figured out on his own a long time ago and it is so easy to ship him the keys. not a big problem at all. and when I sent the key picture, he had a New York bottle opener on the keychain, and I was like "oh cool! Have you been to New York??" with the intention of getting to know my partner better - I think it's could he potentially took a trip there and I was asking in a light hearted way and his response (over voice message) was a sarcastic "yeah babe, I go there every weekend." Again, I don't understand this response. I don't understand why my question was so bad and why he felt like avoiding it? Maybe he was stressed about the whole key situation/ feeling jet lagged from the flight. But still. it sucked. I basically told him that I wouldn't take this shit from him that he cannot blame me and not take ownership of his own shit.
I just don't understand. I also have such a hard time leaving him. I tried before in the past - I felt pressured to move to Florida with him; he talked a lot about moving into together, having kids, etc etc and it was just moving too fast for me and I felt like I needed to leave because I can't give those things to him right now and it's not fair if that is something he wants and for me to stay in the relationship wanting different things at the moment. He convinces me to stay with him, saying he can wait for those things, but doesn't want to lose me. I stayed.
I'm just sooooo tired of these arguments! I'm tired of feeling like I can't ask basic questions without him getting upset. I'm tired of being made out to be the bad guy when I'm clearly not at fault. I'm tired of feeling like I acquiesce to him. I sometimes feel like he needs me more than I need him and I don't want to be his mother cleaning up after him/keeping track of his shit and then getting blamed when I don't know where HIS things are.
And we have silly arguments like this so much in the past too. I feel like maybe I'm deluding myself thinking that when we are together for longing periods of time that we won't argue so much - that it's the stress of travel that causes us to bicker. or that I'm holding on to the really good parts of the relationship where we make each other laugh so hard and we can meaningful conversations.
I worry that if we do someday have kids that they won't be able to come to him without him getting upset/weird/non-communicative. *sigh* what do I do? I know I just talked about the arguments of this past weekend so this post feels a little biased. But I feel stuck. Part of feels like maybe I should leave him, but the other part of me sticks it out. Am I secretly addicted to the drama? Or maybe I don't have a strong enough will
submitted by Reisende8 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
I need some relationship life advice.
I '23/F' am currently involved with a '27/M' partner for a year now. I love him and he loves me, but I often wonder if our relationship is worth continuing. Half the time we are each others' best friend and lovers and we get along amazingly... however the other half of the time we argue over the stupidest things and the arguments go round and round in circles for a while (and I'm not joking, we argue SO fucking much). To give an example, just this past weekend I drove up to see him as well as celebrate his friends' family visiting from South America (we are long distance) and on the car ride there, I ask if we are staying in his motorhome he has there. He wouldn't give me a straight answer and I was wanting to know so that 1) we could save money instead of going to a hotel 2) we wouldn't have to worry about checkout times 3) I wanted to know where the hell I was driving to! Instead of giving me a straight answer about why he preferred to stay at a hotel, he went round in circles and got upset that I was asking. We eventually figured that argument out and it turns out he didn't want to stay in the motorhome because he still needed to clean it and he didn't want to welcome me in that kind of environment (the next day we went to his motorhome so I could help him organise).
That same night when we're celebrating his friend and her family, he starts smoking his friend's vape and is attached to it pretty much the whole night. Obviously it is his choice what he does with his body, but it sucks when your partner tells you he quite vaping/smoking and then as soon as he has the opportunity he picks it right back up again and blames his friends for his vaping problem. The group was playing some fun Brazilian music to dance to, and so I go up to my partner to ask him to dance with me and I playfully try to push the vape away from his hand (he was just sitting there vaping). I didn't slap his hand, I didn't forcefully take it away from him, I wasn't disrespectful in anyway - I was just trying to be playful and was hoping he would put it down and dance with me. I allowed my expectations to upset me. I was expecting/hoping that he would put it down and dance with me. Instead, he was like "not now babe" and reaches for another hit of nicotine. I got upset by this because we haven't seen each other in over a month, we only have a few hours together, and first he gets weird/upset about the motorhome thing and then it feels like he chooses spending time with the vape over dancing with the person he calls the love of his life. (and maybe I am overreacting with this particular situation, it just hurts watching him hurt his health like that then blame his friends and it feels like my partner has no self control when it comes to that kind of stuff).
That was Friday. On Sunday morning, his alarm went off at 6 am which of course also woke me up. He started getting up/moving around/making a bunch of noise, and I try asking him what's going on. No response. I ask again and I ask "Do we really need to be awake at 6?" because in my mind his flight back to his state isn't until the afternoon and I was the one taking him to the airport so do I need to start getting ready too?? like why are you up so early? can you please explain what is happening? Like the motorhome situation - in which he would not clearly explain what was going on - he just got mad at me saying I was tripping about the alarm and that I shouldn't ask him questions in that kind of tone of voice (what tone of voice?!?!?). He just started getting so upset that I asked if we needed to be up at that time and I was so confused by his response because it really didn't seem fair to me. When he got back in bed I did not want to be touched by him - I was so sad that I feel like I can't even ask my partner simple questions without him getting upset. He tried to go on explaining why I shouldn't ask questions like that and justifying his response. I get first thing in the morning after not much sleep people can be a little cranky, but dude to tell me I'm tripping and then evading my one question/getting defensive? not cool to me. After it's clear I'm not buying his response, he apologises and asks me to forgive his reaction, which I do and we're back to being fine. That day before dropping him at the airport, we drop off some his clothes we organised at the donation centre and then he realises he can't find his car or motorhome keys. so we spend the whole time before the airport with me driving him around to various locations to find his keys, we search my whole car, he has me search my entire bag... we can't find the fucking keys anywhere. But we were both like, no worries, they will show up somewhere. And we had a good time about it. No arguments, no complaints, he was grateful that I was helping him with his shit.
The next morning I find them in my car and I send him a picture with "omg babe, guess what I just found!" and instead of being relieved/happy that I found them, he BLAMES ME for not having seen the keys before. to be clear, I never once touched his motorhome keys. I had no idea until Sunday morning that we would even be looking for them. He blames ME for HIM losing HIS keys. I wouldn't take that shit from him. Then he went on saying that I need to "centre myself," that he has a right to feel the way he does blah blah, and sure he has a right to feel whatever he desires, but he has no right to blame me for anything! especially after I spent a good amount of time and fuel helping him do things he should've figured out on his own a long time ago and it is so easy to ship him the keys. not a big problem at all. and when I sent the key picture, he had a New York bottle opener on the keychain, and I was like "oh cool! Have you been to New York??" with the intention of getting to know my partner better - I think it's could he potentially took a trip there and I was asking in a light hearted way and his response (over voice message) was a sarcastic "yeah babe, I go there every weekend." Again, I don't understand this response. I don't understand why my question was so bad and why he felt like avoiding it? Maybe he was stressed about the whole key situation/ feeling jet lagged from the flight. But still. it sucked. I basically told him that I wouldn't take this shit from him that he cannot blame me and not take ownership of his own shit.
I just don't understand. I also have such a hard time leaving him. I tried before in the past - I felt pressured to move to Florida with him; he talked a lot about moving into together, having kids, etc etc and it was just moving too fast for me and I felt like I needed to leave because I can't give those things to him right now and it's not fair if that is something he wants and for me to stay in the relationship wanting different things at the moment. He convinces me to stay with him, saying he can wait for those things, but doesn't want to lose me. I stayed.
I'm just sooooo tired of these arguments! I'm tired of feeling like I can't ask basic questions without him getting upset. I'm tired of being made out to be the bad guy when I'm clearly not at fault. I'm tired of feeling like I acquiesce to him. I sometimes feel like he needs me more than I need him and I don't want to be his mother cleaning up after him/keeping track of his shit and then getting blamed when I don't know where HIS things are.
And we have silly arguments like this so much in the past too. I feel like maybe I'm deluding myself thinking that when we are together for longing periods of time that we won't argue so much - that it's the stress of travel that causes us to bicker. or that I'm holding on to the really good parts of the relationship where we make each other laugh so hard and we can meaningful conversations.
I worry that if we do someday have kids that they won't be able to come to him without him getting upset/weird/non-communicative. *sigh* what do I do? I know I just talked about the arguments of this past weekend so this post feels a little biased. But I feel stuck. Part of feels like maybe I should leave him, but the other part of me sticks it out. Am I secretly addicted to the drama? Or maybe I don't have a strong enough will
2024.05.14 03:56 No_Drummer941 My f**king dog
Two days ago I was sick so I stayed home from school, I was in my bed upstairs watching videos on my phone and my door opened on its own just enough for my dogs head to fit through, I have a bunk bed so I could not see the bottom two feet of my door and so I said “no, Milo” ….. no response so I said “Milo, absolutely not”….. no response, just to tell you guys but so far I have told you 5 seconds of this interaction, then I leaned up to look at what I thought was my dog and you guessed it! 🔔🔔🔔 no dog! I then jump out of my bed and slam the door shut. Later my mother came home to a smashed window, no dog and the attic door open
submitted by No_Drummer941 to Thetruthishere [link] [comments]