[TW]: insects, SH
I woke up two days ago with two itchy bites on my ankle, and it's all been a whirlwind from there. I've pretty much convinced myself that I have bedbugs living in my bed, based on the following:

1. The two bites I've described, plus some other skin irregularities/itchy patches (the latter may be imagined) I've noticed on my body.
2. A blood patch I found on my bedsheets.
3. Something I found on the floor, which I took to be a molted bed bug shell.

Now, from a rational perspective I know I'm overreacting completely. And here's why:

1. After discovering the bites, I found a mosquito in my room. Though the bites don't look like other mosquito bites I get and were somewhere that I assumed was covered by bedding while I slept. But it's still probably the mosquito, and if not, I did sit the night before in my friend's car, who recently got a dog. It's possible they could be flea bites.
2. The blood patch looked fairly old, and by Googling it seems bed bug blood patches would be smaller and darker. It's also possible either my girlfriend or I had a spot/pimple that bled in our sleep - we both have some on our back.
3. That "shell" I found was the same colour as a bed bug, but apparently their molted shells are translucent, and this one lacked any "bug parts" (antennae, legs) and had a different texture than I would expect. Could just as easily have been a seed from a bread loaf.

Nevertheless here I am tearing up my mind about bedbugs, scrutinising my mattress constantly, and washing my clothes and sheets at 60° even though I usually do 40° because it's gentler. The bedbugs subreddit does not help because everyone over there seems as anxious as me, and every "is this a bed bug/shell/egg" post gets a few yes responses despite a real diversity in the pictures posted. The thing with bed bugs is they're practically unfalsifiable: they're good at hiding, so you don't see them, their bites vary from person to person, and they can go for long periods without feeding.
Like I said, I likely don't have bedbugs. The fear stems from a budget hotel my friend booked us in to two weeks ago, which wasn't the cleanest. But I did check the mattresses there, and they seemed to pass the test. My friend actually moved on to a second hotel after I went home that did have bed bugs, and he said it was immediately noticeable. I visited India last year, and when my friend jokingly talked about bringing bedbugs home on the return flight (we didn't encounter any) the thought played on my mind for a couple weeks, but this time is more intense.
The only reprieve I get from worrying about them is when I'm distracted, like at work. I did a pretty intense yoga session yesterday and didn't think about it once, but as soon as we brought the session to a close with a meditation, they were back all over my mind.
I also know that, worse case scenario, if I did have them, I'd have to call an exterminator and be out €2000, which would be utterly shit but wouldn't kill me. It's not like the bugs can kill me or even hurt me either. I thought about calling an inspector, but I don't want to spend all that money (and probably anger my landlord) just for reassurance.
I've always been an overthinker and have struggled with anxiety throughout my life. In the past year or two, though, I've noticed some more intrusive thoughts:

1. My ex and I had a place last year and she had a cat. One day when I was leaving for work I didn't pull the door all the way closed. My ex noticed and chewed me out (another story) because it was an indoor cat. But for months afterwards this led me to coming back to the house after leaving for work (sometimes already after walking 10 minutes), coming home early, or staying home completely. At this time I also had a depressive period and my work suffered for a few months as a result.
2. After my breakup when I moved into my new place, I put a hanging plant attachment into the roof and couldn't shake the feeling I'd hit a gas line, even after my Dad (a tradesman) told me they were unlikely to be in that part of the ceiling. I left on a work trip abroad the same day and for the first day away all I thought about was returning to a blown-up apartment. I had a similar feeling when my fridge gas pipe ruptured - I thought I was gonna die in my sleep and ventilated my flat for days.
3. I'm terrified of fire, always have been, but lately I've been unplugging things every time I leave my office because I'm afraid I'll burn the whole place down. I recently quit smoking with the help of an e-cigarette, but for the first week or two I had it I was often terrified it would explode in my pocket.
4. I had an unexplainable pain in my nether regions for a few months that took A LONG TIME to diagnose (turned out to be a muscle problem). But I was constantly anxious about testicular torsion and I wondered why doctors/urologists didn't care. At one point I remember telling myself "I think you want testicular torsion just so you know you're right."
5. When I leave my house I check my balcony door is locked and that the stove is turned off, usually only once, maybe twice. Regarding unplugging things in work, I've once sent my colleague to check something in my office after I left, under false pretenses, in the hope that if something bad had happened (a fire) they would notice and catch it in time.
6. I have - very, very rarely, probably less than 5 times in my life - been consumed momentarily by thoughts of self-harm. Mostly it's fleeting like the intrusive thought I guess everyone gets occasionally, just pushing your brain to consider the worst. However, twice - once after trying SSRIs for my depressive episode and again at random more recently - I had thoughts of slitting my wrists that scared the fuck out of me and sat with me for a good few hours.

I've been in therapy before for anxiety but stopped for a while because my therapist's son got really sick and stopped all sessions. When I look at all this, written out, I'm honestly starting to convince myself that the more likely thing going on here is that I have undiagnosed mild OCD.
However, these thoughts don't normally take over my whole day - I can usually get away from them if I'm distracted, and most of the time they don't bother me unrelentingly, just mildly. Also, besides the unplugging of electronics and checking of locks - which I do not do universally - I don't really think I have any compulsions. These are things I would expect if I had diagnosable OCD, though I don't know much about the condition or the spectrum it exists within.
What are your thoughts? Does it sound like anxiety or OCD experience? I'm planning to go back to therapy next month if I can (it's hard to get appointments where I live, especially in my native language), but do you have any tips for dealing with such thoughts by myself too?
Many thanks for taking the time to read.

Burers
"The result of secret service genetic experiments on criminals under the program of human telekinetic abilities development. A humanoid-type creature of hypertrophied complexion clad in shreds of shabby overalls. Afraid of bright light, therefore dwells in dark and gloomy undergrounds and caves only. Feeds on dead bodies.
Uses gravitation to attack: in close combat forces the enemy back, while capable of levitating heavy objects from the distance. Exhausts its prey, can hit weapons off your hands using directional gravity impulse.
When fighting a Burer, be cautious and don't let him wear you out. Keep moving and shoot him in the head, while at a distance."
From https://cop.stalker-game.com/?page=burer
Controllers
"The secret service genetic experiments on criminals generated a new type of mutants. Controler appears to be one of the top-dangerous monsters in the Zone due to his outstanding telepathic abilities.
He attacks s.t.a.l.k.e.r.s, scientists, the military to kill and eat their body parts or leave them zombified. Once affected, the victim's brain becomes practically incurable. Controller lures animals (rats, smaller hogs, fleshes) to feed on them.
Able to control zombies at distance, forcing them to attack s.t.a.l.k.e.r.s. Prefers to move in a way so as to constantly keep the enemy in sight, thus climbing hills, roofs and trees.
Remnants of black laboratory overalls make for Controler's typical clothing.
Recognize him by half-human face with protruding black eyes, hypertrophied forehead and pulsing ulcers of blisters at temples. Acts with caution. Able of some talking.
Your best tactics against Controler is using shelters and grenades."
From https://cop.stalker-game.com/?page=controler
Fleshes
"I can only hypothesize at this stage... I believe that the Zone was formed as a consequence of some new force. Electromagnetic fields, physical force or radiation couldn't have changed the biosphere so quickly. Obviously, some mutations can be explained by radiation... But, excuse me! An ordinary pig would need hundreds, if not thousands, of years to mutate into flesh! In the Zone the mutation occurred in a couple of years. It's as if someone directly altered the genetic information in individual animals. The thought of that is enough to send shivers down my spine." - Ozersky
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/8zo7DU.jpg
Ozersky's descriptions provide some interesting information that is often unnoticed, concerning the ongoing "evolution" of the Zone, and the fact that fleshes may be the result of some genetic experiments, which implies that they could've been artificially created, akin to some humanoid mutants
Snorks
Snorks were humans once:
"It seems these creatures were human at some point, though it is difficult to imagine what conditions could turn a human being into such disgusting beast. Snorks are insane creatures leading a beast's life and differing little from other carnivorous monsters in the Zone. They move on all fours in long jumps, constantly sniffing the ground in hope of picking up the scent of prey. They hunt carefully, in a calculated manner, frequently setting up ambushes. Thanks to its uncanny reflexes and powerful muscles, the snork can approach the victim, pin it down in one long, accurate jump, and tear it to shreds in a matter of seconds. Strips of army uniforms and other clothing are occasionally found on their bodies. It stands to reason that they are all that's left of missing military stalkers." - PDA entry about snorks in Shadow of Chernobyl
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/9WDY8A.jpg
"Remnants of humans... A lone snork isn't much of a problem for an experienced hunter. You wait for him to jump on you and pump him full of shot in the air. Now, when there's a few of 'em... You've gotta just shoot at them as fast as you can while dodging their jumps. They know this and usually try to attack together." - Gonta
Additional proof: https://snipboard.io/UCGLpw.jpg
Pseudogiants, judging by their human foot hanging from their lower back, their face and even bald spot were most likely humans at 1 point. Pseudogiants are also likely the result of some experiments. So are the bloodsuckers, however the latter are more enigmatic - they almost seem like a different species. Their original description mentions that they are "leftovers" from the experiments that somehow continued to mutate in the Zone on their own. It would make some sense, there is almost nothing "human" about them, and there are several subspecies of them that have adapted to a given environment. But they could also be designed in such way from the start, during the experiments.
Pseudodogs
"Despite the name, the pseudodogs evolved directly from wolves. The animals inhabiting the forests at the time of the catastrophe gave rise to one of the Zone's most dangerous mutant species. Pseudodogs are about as different from mutant dogs as wild wolves differ from poodles. The creatures mark and guard their territory carefully, attacking anyone stupid enough to venture onto their land on sight. Lightning-fast reflexes, uncanny dexterity and razor-sharp teeth make the pseudodog a formidable enemy for large mutants and well-armed stalkers." - PDA entry about them in SoC
"A wolf-type mutant of very aggressive and dangerous nature, even when on his own. Sometimes pseudodogs go hunting with packs of blind dogs and they never attack each other. The creatures mark and guard their territory, fiercely attacking those who dare to tresspass.
Pseudodogs are very enduring and can follow the runaways for a long time. They possess a perfect sense of hearing and smell. Northern pseudodogs have been noted psionic abilities and can attack s.t.a.l.k.e.r.'s mind. Their reaction, mobility and sharp teeth make pseudodogs very challenging enemies for large mutants and well-armed s.t.a.l.k.e.r.s alike."
From https://cop.stalker-game.com/?page=pseudodog

This story was written and emailed to me by an anonymous source. And it’s one of the craziest most bizarre stories I’ve ever read. Ever! 😆 Enjoy the read. It’s long and ridiculously wild. ☘️ Also, in advance, no one can use this story. These stories are written and emailed to me for me to turn into a Video Narrative for my YouTube & TikTok channels. But I would like to share their tales as reading material as well. Thank you for understanding.
I hope you enjoy. 🫶
Story by - “Alex” & “Shane”
Okay so…
I went on vacation to Ireland with my brother last year. And had the most wildest experience of my life there.
Or should I say, we both had the most…wildest experience.
But More so me. And to Tell you the truth, I don’t think I’ll ever go back again after what happened.
As a matter of fact, no, I won’t go back.
So, it’s a Sunday night and it was pretty much our last day of vacationing.
My older brother Shane, wanted to go out… And I’m quoting him - “let’s get fuckin wasted tonight!”
So… We’re on vacation right? Why not? We had rented an Airbnb for the week, we had a rental car - we had a great week so far and we were having…
A proper vacation.
He was already dressed up and ready to go. I wanted to take a quick shower and shave so I told him to head out and I’d call him when I was ready for him to pick me up.
He says cool. He leaves, and I jump in the shower. He’s the one that knows the hot spots in Ireland better than I do. I mean, this was my first time ever coming here. So…
I take a shower, shave, and I get dressed. As I’m about to call my brother, the front door to our Airbnb opens up.
And Its my brother with two bad ass Irish women! They both jump on the couch and they’re laughing their asses off and my brother is just standing there looking at me with a sly grin on his face.
He looks over at the ladies and says - “Give me a minute please” walks over to me, puts his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the bathroom. He then whips out a bag of mushrooms and smiles. Ya know… The psychedelic kind.
I look down at the bag and I shake my head.
He says to me - “come on bro. We got two hotties out there who are trippin and they want to party. Don’t be a flake. This is our last night. Let’s make it special.”
I don’t like disappointing my brother but I was kind of hesitant.
I opened the bathroom door and take a look at these gorgeous women who were both sitting upright now and both looking at me as I opened the door. Both smiling. I smiled back. Closed the door… I looked at my brother and said - “Alright dood fuck it! Let’s do it!”
He gives me a huge hug, kisses me on the forehead, pours me a handful of shrooms and does the same for himself.
We both looked at each other to see who would go first. He counted to three and down the hatch they went. But they were the most unpleasant tasting mushrooms I’ve ever eaten in my life. They were disgusting.
I ran to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of juice because I was having a hard time chewing these nasty things.
But my brother Shane? No, he’s a pro. You give that guy a barrel of hay and he’ll eat it faster than a horse. The guy can eat anything.
40 minutes go by and I’m still straight as a pin. However, my brother on the other hand? He’s already trippin.
I think he had already taken some beforehand.
But in the next 10 minutes… These shrooms hit me like a ton of bricks! It was like this intense wave of cool and hot went completely through my body.
And I’ve taken mushrooms quite a few times but have never felt anything like this before. It was so sudden!
And I feel fantastic!
The next hour went by so fast because we were having so much fun! And these Irish girls? Man… I had the sexiest one! A beautiful Redhead by the name of Katrina.
She was kind of short though. About 5’1” maybe? But good things come in small packages, right? Well, not really. And you’ll know why soon enough.
I don’t recall anything else that happened for the rest of the night after my brother left with the other girl. And before I continue with the rest of the story. My brother’s name is really not Shane. And the redhead girl I was with is not named Katrina.
You see I had to make up these names to protect me and my brother. Because what happened during the rest of the night? I don’t remember. But also, I’ll never forget either.
Okay so, let's get back to the story…
I do remember my brother leaving with… Let's just call her Gloria, Katrina’s friend? And me and Katrina, the redhead, stood behind. I do remember us making out in the bathroom together, but…Everything else after that? There’s nothing there. Nothing. I don’t recall anything from that point forward no matter how badly I try to remember.
This is what my brother told me he witnessed as he arrived back at the Airbnb five hours later with Gloria.
And until this day, I still don’t want to believe this happened. But according to my brother…
It truly did happen.
My brother is going to write this part of the story because he’s the one that has this locked in his memory for life. And for the sake of the story, my name will be Alex.
Here is my brother Shane’s point of view - his perspective on what he witnessed that crazy night. Wow man… This is so fucking nuts. So buckle up and be prepared. I understand you don’t know who I am, but I swear, I’m not a bad person. Okay.

• “Shane’s” story on what he witnessed.

Yeah so, I guess I’m Shane now. Unreal…
Okay. Here we go. Meat and potatoes.
We arrive back at the Airbnb and I see Alex outside in the front of the house wearing only socks and he’s running around on top of the grass like an animal yanking out handfuls of grass from underneath him.
I look at Gloria and we’re both baffled at what we just saw.
First thing I said was - “Oh yeah! This dood is off his rocker right about now - as I parked the car.
We both hop out of the car and walk up to the front door. I slide the key into the door, it unlocks, but there’s a chair behind the door and it’s tipped over blocking the entry way and only leaving enough space for a crack. We both awkwardly look at one another and as I’m about to call out for my brother, I hear someone sprinting towards the door and bang!
The fuckin idiot shuts the door on us.
I then knock on the door softly because It’s almost 1 in the morning as I don’t want to make too much noise. God only knows what this kid has been doing since me and Gloria left.
After I knock on the door a few times, I hear the chair getting pushed to the side and my brother slightly opens the door. I take a peek inside, and his nose is broken, lips are bubbled up and his left eye is completely shut, black and blue and swollen.
He then drops to his knees, and begins crying but no sound is coming out of him! You know… Like when you get smacked by your parents when you’re a kid and it shocks the soul of you? Yeah, that kind of cry.
I don’t react to what he’s doing to not scare the shit out of Gloria, because she’s right beside me. So I push the door open and tell Gloria to hang on a second and shut the door and lock it.
I pick his busted ass up and sit him on the couch. I look around the house and it’s in complete shambles. Our clothes are everywhere, there’s food all over the fuckin walls. It was chaotic. And my brother is now sitting up breathing frantically.
I ask him - “what in the fuck happened?”
He looks at me. Face looking like he got into a boxing match with Rocky Marciano and whispers to me.
“Dood… There’s a leprechaun in the bathroom.”
“A fuckin what now?” - I said with the most bewildered look on my face. I mean I must have… I wish I would have taken a picture of my face at that very moment. I should have taken pictures of everything so this idiot could see the havoc he wreaked on that night.
My imbecile brother continues - “I’m telling you. There’s a fuckin leprechaun in the fuckin bathroom and this little lucky charms motherfucker won’t tell me where he hid the gold!”
“A leprechaun in the bathroom. What the fuck happened to you?” I said as I felt my blood beginning to boil.
The Imbecile then says - “Don’t worry. Don’t worry! I hogtied that little bitch and stuffed my underwear in its mouth. It’s in the bathtub. But don’t go in there. Don’t go in there. This thing fucked me up!”
And now I can hear someone fumbling in the bathroom moaning very softly. I looked at my brother and said - “What in the fuck did you do Alex?”
He replies - “I’m telling you. It’s a fucking leprechaun.”
“Okay. Okay.” - I said. “Stay right here and just, don’t move. Don’t do anything. Just keep still.
His eyes were so huge and dilated. He was so fuckin high. He had heartbeat pulses pumping from the top of his head.
I rushed back over to the front door and told Gloria that my brother got into a fight with a couple of guys at a pub while me and her were out and that her friend Katrina left because she got scared. She told me that was the first time she met that girl tonight so she really didn’t care and shrugged it off. Which was a huge relief to me. I told her thank you for a wonderful night. She understood. W said our goodbyes. I shut the door. And now… What the fuck is in the bathroom? Or better yet, who, is in the bathroom? Because let’s face it. This motherfucker did not find and fight with a leprechaun tonight. No way. There’s just no fuckin way.
I rush over to the bathroom and my brother leaps at my legs, and he’s holding onto me for dear life, begging me!
He says - “Please don’t untie it! It’s got magical powers! PLEASE!!!
Now, at this very moment? I am sort of hesitant about opening the bathroom door. But I snap out of it and open it. What the fuck. A leprechaun? No, I don’t think so.
I open the door…
“Holy shit.” - I said while covering my hands with my mouth. The floor was smeared in blood as if someone was dragged, leading to the huge cast iron tub. Smeared bloody handprints were all over the tub. And now I hear the faint moan coming from the tub. My legs are shaking and feel like they’re ready to give out on me. I was scared shitless.
“What did my brother do? Who is in that bathtub? I pray to God Katrina isn’t in there right now.” - I said to myself completely freaked out.
I slowly walk up to the bathtub…
And sure enough, there is a hogtied person lying in it with my brother's underwear stuffed in their mouth with a ripped t-shirt tied around their head and mouth, but… It’s not Katrina.
It’s a little person. You know, a dwarf? And… He’s literally dressed up in a leprechaun costume…
And how, on God's green earth did he end up here?
He has no idea I’m standing above him. I reach down to begin untying him but he begins squirming and screaming. I told him to relax and that I was here to help him.
And then My imbecile brother Alex, rushes into the bathroom and tackles me down. Stands up and begins shouting at this poor bastard hogtied in the tub - “Tell me where it is you greedy little fuck! Tell me!!!
I jumped to my feet and slapped my brother back to his childhood. Grabbed him by the throat, tripped him and threw him to the ground and said - “are you fuckin crazy? Do you want to go to prison for kidnapping? What in the fuck is the matter with you? You dumb fuck!!”
He then looks up at me with this pessimistic look on his face and says - “It’s a fucking leprechaun dood. A leprechaun.”
I was absolutely dumbfounded and furious at this point. I have this stranger in my Airbnb rental, hogtied and gagged and squirming and screaming and my brother thinks that he’s a leprechaun…
I can’t make this shit up.
He was so fucking high on those mushrooms. He was absolutely convinced that this man was a leprechaun. So… I had to play the game.
It was the only way to help this poor son of a bitch that my brother had kidnapped and hogtied in our Airbnb rental.
I calmly whispered and told him to please leave the bathroom so I could interrogate the leprechaun and find out where he was hiding the pot of gold.
My brother slowly stood up to his feet, face busted up, his cock and balls all shriveled and tight, looked at the man dressed up as a leprechaun, smiled at him with an evil grin and just, walked away…
And as he walked away, I told him to go and please put some clothes on, lay down in bed, and that I would handle the leprechaun. That I, would find out where the gold was hidden…
And that’s all I’m saying. I’m giving the computer back to my dumbass of a brother to finish off whatever else he wants to write.

• Back to “Alex”

Pretty outlandish right? I know. I know. You must think that I’m bat shit crazy huh? Okay so, to make the rest of this long story short, my brother Shane never told me what he did with the poor guy I hogtied and, well… i don’t remember how this guy came to be in my possession. I really don’t.
The only thing my brother Shane told me was that he ungagged him, untied him, and that he was extremely pissed off. And that he had compensated him for his troubles.
Man, I felt so horrible. I felt so horrible…
What I do remember though is waking up that following afternoon with my face all fucked up. Dehydrated with a tremendous splitting headache. I had no clue as to why I looked and felt the way I did. It was terrifying.
All of our luggage was packed and my brother was just sitting there, legs crossed and his arms folded.
Hey man… Take it from me. Don’t do fuckin drugs.
Regards, “Alex” & “Shane”
Disclaimer- This story may not be used for anything other than reading, sharing your thoughts and enjoying it. It is now protected by the United States Library of Congress/Copyright Office. Thank you. ☘️

I've always had a crush on Grethel, ever since we met in freshman year. He was smart, funny, kind, and handsome. He was also the half-brother of """Josh Gogh""(not his real name)"", the famous actor. Grethel never bragged about it, though. He was humble and down-to-earth, unlike his celebrity sibling.
We became good friends over the years, sharing classes, hobbies, and secrets. We also worked part-time at the same bookstore, where we would chat and joke around during our shifts. Sometimes, I would catch him looking at me with a soft smile, and I would feel my heart skip a beat.
But I never told him how I felt. I was too afraid to ruin our friendship, or to be rejected. I didn't think he would ever see me as more than a friend. After all, he was the half-brother of an actor. He could have any girl he wanted.
Grethel lived with his mom and his younger brother in a modest house near our school and workplace, while I lived in a distant suburb. Whenever we had a long break between classes or shifts, he would invite me to his place to hang out. He said it was more convenient and comfortable than staying at the library or the cafeteria.
I always accepted his invitation, secretly hoping to spend more time with him. His house was cozy and warm, with family photos and souvenirs on the walls. He had a couch, a TV, a fridge, and a microwave in the living room, and a bunk bed, a desk, and a closet in his bedroom. He also had a spare room, where his brother Josh would stay whenever he visited.
Grethel and I had an awkward friendship at first, but we soon became closer. He would tease me, make me laugh, and share his thoughts and feelings with me. He would also play video games with me, or watch movies with me, or cook for me. He was the best friend I ever had, and I wished he was more.
One day, he asked me if I wanted to go to his brother's movie premiere with him. He said he had two tickets, and he didn't want to go alone. He said it would be fun, and we could hang out afterwards. I agreed, feeling a surge of excitement and nervousness.
I spent hours getting ready, trying to look my best. I wore a simple but elegant dress, and did my hair and makeup. I hoped he would notice me, and maybe feel something for me.
He picked me up in his car, and he looked stunning. He wore a black suit and a tie, and his hair was styled. He smiled when he saw me, and complimented me on my appearance. He said I looked beautiful. I felt my cheeks flush, and thanked him.
We drove to the theater, where we were greeted by a crowd of fans and paparazzi. Grethel held my hand as we walked through the chaos, and I felt a thrill of being with him. He led me to the red carpet, where his brother was waiting.
Josh Gogh looked just like he did on the screen, only more handsome. He had a charming smile and a confident posture. He hugged Grethel, and then turned to me. He looked me over, and raised his eyebrows.
"Who's this?" he asked Grethel, with a hint of curiosity.
"This is my friend, Marie," Grethel introduced me. "She's my classmate and co-worker. We came here together."
"Friend, huh?" Josh said, looking at our intertwined hands. "Well, nice to meet you, Marie. You're very pretty. Are you a fan of my movies?"
I nodded, feeling a bit starstruck. "Yes, I am. I've seen all of them. You're a great actor."
"Thank you. That's very kind of you to say. You have good taste," he said, flashing a smile. "Well, I hope you enjoy the show. Come on, Grethel. Let's go inside. The movie is about to start."
He pulled Grethel away, leaving me behind. I followed them, feeling a bit awkward. I wondered what Josh meant by his words. Was he flirting with me? Did he like me? Did he know about my feelings for Grethel?
We entered the theater, where we were seated in the front row. Grethel sat next to me, and Josh sat next to him. The lights dimmed, and the movie began. It was a thriller, and it was intense. Josh was the star, and he stole every scene. The audience gasped and clapped, and I joined them.
But I couldn't help but glance at Grethel, who was watching the movie with a serious expression. He didn't gasp or clap, even at the most shocking moments. He seemed distant and distracted, as if he was thinking about something else.
I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but I didn't want to disturb him. I decided to wait until the movie was over, and then talk to him. Maybe he would open up to me, and maybe I would find the courage to confess my feelings.
But as the movie ended, and the credits rolled, Josh stood up and grabbed Grethel's arm. He said he had to go to the after-party, and he wanted Grethel to come with him. He said he had something important to tell him, something that would change his life.
He didn't even look at me, or say goodbye. He just dragged Grethel out of the theater, leaving me alone. I felt a pang of hurt and confusion, wondering what Josh had to say to Grethel, and why he didn't care about me.
I got up, and walked out of the theater. I looked for Grethel's car, but I couldn't find it. I realized he had left with Josh, and he had forgotten about me. I felt tears sting my eyes, and I cursed myself for being so stupid.
I hailed a taxi, and gave the driver my address. I sat in the back seat, feeling miserable and hopeless. I wondered if Grethel would ever call me, or text me, or apologize. I wondered if he would ever know how I felt, or if he felt the same.
I wondered if I would ever see him again.
I remembered the last time I saw him, before the premiere. It was the day before, and we had a long break between our classes. He invited me to his place, as usual. I agreed, as usual.
We went to his house, and he made us some sandwiches. We ate them in the living room, while watching a sitcom on TV. We laughed at the jokes, and commented on the characters. We were having a good time, as usual.
Then he suggested we play some video games. He said he had a new game that he wanted to try. I agreed, as usual. We went to his bedroom, where he had his console and his TV. He turned on the game, and handed me a controller.
We played for a while, and it was fun. The game was a racing game, and we competed against each other. He was better than me, but I didn't mind. I enjoyed his company, as usual.
Then I felt tired, and I yawned. He noticed, and asked me if I wanted to take a nap. He said I could use his bed, and he would use the couch. I agreed, as usual.
He gave me a pillow and a blanket, and told me to make myself comfortable. He said he would wake me up when it was time to go. I thanked him, and lay down on his bed. He left the room, and closed the door.
I closed my eyes, and breathed in his scent. His bed smelled like him, and it made me feel warm and cozy. I cuddled with his pillow, and imagined it was him. I fell asleep, as usual.
I woke up, and opened my eyes. I saw him, and I smiled. He was lying on the lower bunk, playing video games. He didn't notice me, and he was focused on the screen. He looked cute, and I felt happy.
I got up, and climbed down from the upper bunk. I walked over to him, and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, and saw me. He smiled, and paused the game.
"Hey, sleepyhead. How was your nap?" he asked me.
"It was good. Thanks for letting me use your bed," I said.
"No problem. You looked tired. Did you have a good dream?" he asked.
I nodded, and lied. "Yeah, I did."
I didn't tell him that I dreamed of him. I didn't tell him that I loved him. I didn't tell him that I wanted to be more than friends.
I didn't tell him, as usual. ```

TW: miscarriage
I need help, and I don’t know what to do. I’m not sure if I was pregnant or not and it’s weird because I feel like I miss something that might’ve not existed.
…
In mid-May last year, my now-husband and I had been trying to get pregnant for two months or so. We were coming up quickly on Mother's Day, and I had scheduled a pregnancy test with my college health center the day after (Monday).
By the time we got to Saturday, the day before Mother's Day, I was completely convinced that I was pregnant. I hadn't had my period in about two months (from irregular cycles), and I knew I ovulated a little over a month prior (in mid-April).
I spent all of Saturday at the Chocolate Festival that we hold annually on the day before Mother's Day. I spent the entire day imagining bringing my child to the next year's festival with my husband, excited to get the results on Monday. We already picked out names: Kathryn Marie (after my great-gran who passed), or Soren Xavier.
At the end of the day, I felt it. I ran to the bathroom, and I had bled through my pants.
The rest of the day was a blur. I ended up having to borrow clothes from my mom. I talked with a friend later, and she asked me if the period was different in any way, and I genuinely couldn't remember details (and still can't). I just know I was crying so much.
I had to call my now-husband in tears on the verge of a mental breakdown and tell him that we wouldn't be having a kid. In a time that was very dark for both of us, it was a ray of hope. He had already told his friends very excitedly that he was going to be a dad, and I had to give him the news that it wouldn't be happening yet.
We never got confirmation about if I was pregnant or not so I don't know for sure and sometimes I feel almost silly when I mourn losing that baby that might've never existed… But I thought I was pregnant, and so it feels very real.
I think about this a lot because it was my first possible pregnancy loss, and it happened around this time of year. But I still don’t know if I was really pregnant. I’m just looking for some help.

I’ve found that when I watch exciting fights, “overcoming the odds”/“comeback” moments, or just badass movie scenes/videos in general—especially paired with a powerful score—my eyes well up with tears.
Does this happen to y’all? I love movies, and I have a really hard time containing my excitement at these types of scenes. I’ll check back into reality and realize that I’m beaming with a big, open-mouth smile and I’m so excited that I’ll shed a few tears. They just come out, idk.
Also, imagining badass scenarios involving me (when I’m listening to my music) gets me similarly excited. It’s weird asl, I know lol. Just wanna see if y’all have similar experiences. Not sure if I have autism or not, just felt like this would be a page that could relate

I've been consuming the available YT vids that Dr. Mike @ RP has released so far about training after an injury, and I'm mostly clear regarding the phases and their rep, effort, & volume targets. However, one missing piece of the puzzle is exercise selection.
Dr. Mike barely mentions in any video what type of lift to use after an injury, but I found 1 or 2 instances where he implies that you shouldn't use the basic compound lifts at the start of the comeback program. For example, if one has a tendon tear in their leg (knee, ankle, etc.), you shouldn't pick squats or close variations for the 1st phase (20-30 reps, 10 RIR), but rather leg extension (isolation) or leg press (more stable variation).
He doesn't outright say this, but he does say to consider switching from leg extension & leg press to squat (in a smith machine, then free weight) once the load progresses to 10-20 reps @ 0-3 RIR. That's where I deduced that he recommends against squats (or other basic compounds that use the injured body part) before this point.
Am I interpreting his content correctly?

My spouse is currently 42 Days sober out of rehab, and I am so proud! So many positive changes, and I can see his heart, its an amazing feeling. Unfortunately I was under the misguided impression that when he became sober, he would be completely out of the “psychosis” and realize that what he had been accusing me of, was just bizarre and not true. Yet here we sit, trying to show each other love, yet I know in the back of his mind, he legitimately believes he caught me in MULTIPLE porn video’s(which he sent to me while I was working), sleeping with his family members, male and female, ages ranging from high school, up to 50’s…strangers, all the neighbors…you name it, he accused me of it. Even when these women look nothing like me and they are covering their eyes. So i guess my question isn’t why he feels this way, because I’ve read about all i could read about drug induced psychosis…but more a question as to maybe how long, or is this idea going to stay planted forever? He refuses to watch the video’s he sent me before going to rehab. I had kept them as my “proof” per se that they weren’t me, but he believes he will just be triggered by watching them because he is afraid he will still “see me” in them, even though I have never done such a thing in my life, and 110% those women are not me. In my mind I’m thinking, what better solution to the problem, than to watch the videos with sober eyes and realize they aren’t me, wouldn’t that be a damn relief, for the both of us? Obviously not a relief if his brain could truly cause him to picture my face on other peoples bodies, but of course I’m not thinking of that, when I know that no way in hell these people are me, just like I cant possibly understand where he is coming from, he cannot see perspective from my side either, when this is quite literally reality versus drug induced psychosis… Has anyone experienced this situation? I cannot help but to feel offended by these accusations, and the strong desire to prove my innocence. What I cannot seem to get on board with, is the idea that he needs to just be able to deal with “my cheating” “accept it” and be able to “move on”…because that is offensive to my sensibilities. I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS ACTualLY BETRAYED…so those resentments and feelings of a need for forgivingness belong to me, how can I watch someone try to “get over, and be okay with” something I never did…that cannot be the best solution to the problem, because for the rest of our lives, can he then claim to be triggered by the fact that I had cheated on him, even if only in his head, and I must feel some sort of pity for him, and treat the situation delicately like I have anything to be sorry for, and feel empathy for him? Selfishly I am speaking now, but those feelings of betrayal belong to me, I am the one who is destroyed inside, lacking confidence, feeling like I wasn’t enough, but does the success of his recovery process mean that I must make myself small once again and allow him to believe that he is working on forgiveness for my actions? That is such a damn hard pill to swallow…although, I would do it, I just want there to be another answer. He cheated on me multiple times over multiple years, so I’m aware that he may be projecting his own insecurities onto me because of his guilt, and I need to be sensitive to the fact that what happened in his head was very real to him…but how do I maneuver around the ideas put into his head when he was experiencing psychosis, now that his brain is healing and he is sober? I hoped that there would just be a “TADAAA” moment when he was sober, that he would finally see what I had been seeing this whole time, but is that too much to hope for? I have stayed by his side, and tried to be his strongest supporter, I have tried to take on all child and financial responsibilities, and I am emotionally wore out…yet I must be met with questions about WHERE the money to do the supporting is coming from…because it couldn’t possibly be the job that I’ve maintained…while being alone to take care of the child a majority of his life, and making sure I drove all the way across the state whenever I was allowed to visit at rehab. I cannot help but to feel anger when I am struggling so much and fighting for what I know my reality is, yet trying to be supportive for him, barely getting sleep, and continuing to go to work…and then be accused of getting money from anywhere but the job that my bank account and paystubs can verify. I love him more than he will ever know, but my anger that he would accuse me of such things, is starting to be replaced by sadness. I do not necessarily want to feel sorry for him, because I know this is not fair to me, but how can I not have empathy for the person I love so much, that actually feels somewhat broken hearted, even if not because of my true actions…? To look into the eyes of someone you love, and know that this isn’t just a game, that they are feeling true pain, based on facts that have become so real to them in their head…it breaks my heart, even though I have no guilt to carry, as I have never been unfaithful. I wanted to be mad for the longest time, but it hurts different when you know that scenes, and photos, and voices were actually playing over in their heads, and they actually feel they were betrayed…how do we prepare ourselves for situations like this? He was absolutely awful to me when he was high, accused me of every disgusting act, with strangers, his family, anyone. I was called every name in the book, but I just tried to research what this drug was doing to him, I felt knowledge could help me to separate my feelings from myself so I could just try to understand what was going on, and because deaf and numb to how he was making me feel. I already know that I struggle with depression, insecurity, and an unhealthy need to belong and be desired by my partner, so I had to go to extreme lengths to prove I cared, and a lot of those lengths compromised me, and they were at my expense, because I am not okay, but I focus on him and his recovery so that I don’t have to deal with those feelings for now. I felt I owed it to our 4 year old son, to try and help his father, and I also selfishly believed that I deserved a good man, after all the ****, it was my turn to be happy, and I had chosen his…God had chosen him to lead my family, so i wasn’t going to give up on him. How do I now not feel like I have to spend every moment feeling I have to try and prove something that never happened? I know what infidelity did to me, to my very core, I am not okay, a large part due to the fact that I still could never imagine flirting with another man, let alone having sex with them, it makes me sick, that’s how ridiculously faithful I am in my heart, and mind…that my body would never do what he was able to do to me. I have to try and tell myself, although I know it isn’t true, he doesn’t, and what if he is feeling the same way in his gut, that I feel because of actions he actually took? Is this a life sentence? How long does reality take to set back in, or are the memories that occurred during psychosis permanent?? Is this a problem that now sits as a dark shadow over our relationship, that he must “deal with”…or is there hope that a day comes where that paranoia and delusional thinking gets exposed, and clear thinking can prove to himself that what he thought was true, never was? I want an epiphany…not just acceptance from him, I want him to know absolutely that I didn’t deserve his behaviors and that I have always been true and stood right there, I need a miracle… I cannot picture a happy future with someone who feels they must forgive me for something that I didn’t do, that specific something being my largest daily struggle, trying not to think of that her, that woman who came like a tornado through me, she destroyed any sort of positive thinking I had started accumulating towards myself, anything good I felt I had to offer, and sense of confidence I may have built in myself when I fell in love with him, gone… the moment I realized that I wasn’t enough, over ,and over, and over again…the thought of that infidelity tears my stomach up when I have to think about it, so if some storyline is playing in his head, and he feels betrayed… if we are both that hurt, how does our story end, if sobriety doesn’t mean clear eyes on the same situation?

My spouse is currently 42 Days sober out of rehab, and I am so proud! So many positive changes, and I can see his heart, its an amazing feeling. Unfortunately I was under the misguided impression that when he became sober, he would be completely out of the “psychosis” and realize that what he had been accusing me of, was just bizarre and not true. Yet here we sit, trying to show each other love, yet I know in the back of his mind, he legitimately believes he caught me in MULTIPLE porn video’s(which he sent to me while I was working), sleeping with his family members, male and female, ages ranging from high school, up to 50’s…strangers, all the neighbors…you name it, he accused me of it. Even when these women look nothing like me and they are covering their eyes. So i guess my question isn’t why he feels this way, because I’ve read about all i could read about drug induced psychosis…but more a question as to maybe how long, or is this idea going to stay planted forever? He refuses to watch the video’s he sent me before going to rehab. I had kept them as my “proof” per se that they weren’t me, but he believes he will just be triggered by watching them because he is afraid he will still “see me” in them, even though I have never done such a thing in my life, and 110% those women are not me. In my mind I’m thinking, what better solution to the problem, than to watch the videos with sober eyes and realize they aren’t me, wouldn’t that be a damn relief, for the both of us? Obviously not a relief if his brain could truly cause him to picture my face on other peoples bodies, but of course I’m not thinking of that, when I know that no way in hell these people are me, just like I cant possibly understand where he is coming from, he cannot see perspective from my side either, when this is quite literally reality versus drug induced psychosis… Has anyone experienced this situation? I cannot help but to feel offended by these accusations, and the strong desire to prove my innocence. What I cannot seem to get on board with, is the idea that he needs to just be able to deal with “my cheating” “accept it” and be able to “move on”…because that is offensive to my sensibilities. I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS ACTualLY BETRAYED…so those resentments and feelings of a need for forgivingness belong to me, how can I watch someone try to “get over, and be okay with” something I never did…that cannot be the best solution to the problem, because for the rest of our lives, can he then claim to be triggered by the fact that I had cheated on him, even if only in his head, and I must feel some sort of pity for him, and treat the situation delicately like I have anything to be sorry for, and feel empathy for him? Selfishly I am speaking now, but those feelings of betrayal belong to me, I am the one who is destroyed inside, lacking confidence, feeling like I wasn’t enough, but does the success of his recovery process mean that I must make myself small once again and allow him to believe that he is working on forgiveness for my actions? That is such a damn hard pill to swallow…although, I would do it, I just want there to be another answer. He cheated on me multiple times over multiple years, so I’m aware that he may be projecting his own insecurities onto me because of his guilt, and I need to be sensitive to the fact that what happened in his head was very real to him…but how do I maneuver around the ideas put into his head when he was experiencing psychosis, now that his brain is healing and he is sober? I hoped that there would just be a “TADAAA” moment when he was sober, that he would finally see what I had been seeing this whole time, but is that too much to hope for? I have stayed by his side, and tried to be his strongest supporter, I have tried to take on all child and financial responsibilities, and I am emotionally wore out…yet I must be met with questions about WHERE the money to do the supporting is coming from…because it couldn’t possibly be the job that I’ve maintained…while being alone to take care of the child a majority of his life, and making sure I drove all the way across the state whenever I was allowed to visit at rehab. I cannot help but to feel anger when I am struggling so much and fighting for what I know my reality is, yet trying to be supportive for him, barely getting sleep, and continuing to go to work…and then be accused of getting money from anywhere but the job that my bank account and paystubs can verify. I love him more than he will ever know, but my anger that he would accuse me of such things, is starting to be replaced by sadness. I do not necessarily want to feel sorry for him, because I know this is not fair to me, but how can I not have empathy for the person I love so much, that actually feels somewhat broken hearted, even if not because of my true actions…? To look into the eyes of someone you love, and know that this isn’t just a game, that they are feeling true pain, based on facts that have become so real to them in their head…it breaks my heart, even though I have no guilt to carry, as I have never been unfaithful. I wanted to be mad for the longest time, but it hurts different when you know that scenes, and photos, and voices were actually playing over in their heads, and they actually feel they were betrayed…how do we prepare ourselves for situations like this? He was absolutely awful to me when he was high, accused me of every disgusting act, with strangers, his family, anyone. I was called every name in the book, but I just tried to research what this drug was doing to him, I felt knowledge could help me to separate my feelings from myself so I could just try to understand what was going on, and because deaf and numb to how he was making me feel. I already know that I struggle with depression, insecurity, and an unhealthy need to belong and be desired by my partner, so I had to go to extreme lengths to prove I cared, and a lot of those lengths compromised me, and they were at my expense, because I am not okay, but I focus on him and his recovery so that I don’t have to deal with those feelings for now. I felt I owed it to our 4 year old son, to try and help his father, and I also selfishly believed that I deserved a good man, after all the ****, it was my turn to be happy, and I had chosen his…God had chosen him to lead my family, so i wasn’t going to give up on him. How do I now not feel like I have to spend every moment feeling I have to try and prove something that never happened? I know what infidelity did to me, to my very core, I am not okay, a large part due to the fact that I still could never imagine flirting with another man, let alone having sex with them, it makes me sick, that’s how ridiculously faithful I am in my heart, and mind…that my body would never do what he was able to do to me. I have to try and tell myself, although I know it isn’t true, he doesn’t, and what if he is feeling the same way in his gut, that I feel because of actions he actually took? Is this a life sentence? How long does reality take to set back in, or are the memories that occurred during psychosis permanent?? Is this a problem that now sits as a dark shadow over our relationship, that he must “deal with”…or is there hope that a day comes where that paranoia and delusional thinking gets exposed, and clear thinking can prove to himself that what he thought was true, never was? I want an epiphany…not just acceptance from him, I want him to know absolutely that I didn’t deserve his behaviors and that I have always been true and stood right there, I need a miracle… I cannot picture a happy future with someone who feels they must forgive me for something that I didn’t do, that specific something being my largest daily struggle, trying not to think of that her, that woman who came like a tornado through me, she destroyed any sort of positive thinking I had started accumulating towards myself, anything good I felt I had to offer, and sense of confidence I may have built in myself when I fell in love with him, gone… the moment I realized that I wasn’t enough, over ,and over, and over again…the thought of that infidelity tears my stomach up when I have to think about it, so if some storyline is playing in his head, and he feels betrayed… if we are both that hurt, how does our story end, if sobriety doesn’t mean clear eyes on the same situation?

This is a rant about my stuff.
I took everything to my ex's place, was rushed, and one bin of stuff never fully dried and I opened the bin, today. Now I have to rewash everything inside and see what's salvageable.
I want to properly do the Kon Mari method, but clothes have been such a sore issue and I'm waiting to actually fit into stuff again. I have alot of hangups around clothes I am trying to work through first while trying to consolidate my stuff from 3 locations into mainly 1 location. Also, I am in a program with personal property restrictions that I could only bring a couple of bins at a time, and the Kon Mari method says to make a pile of all of your clothes, pick your favorite things and use that as a guide to figure out what does or doesn't bring joy.
I have gotten rid of mediums and larges because I never liked how I looked in adult six small clothing and up. I was always children's sized, gained a bunch of weight (And not in a good way), then gained more weight, then gained more weigh. I know for a fact that nothing above a size small brings me joy except for 2 items worn as a set which I want to try on again and will likely give away within a year from now.
The only adult clothes above an adult small I am keeping besides maybe the 2 named items are 1 shirt which is otherwise the same as 1 I have for regular wear and can be used for crafting matching items; and I have video game swag I imagined being given away at a need event I used to attend that the host used to give away things from a friend who used to hoard as prizes, or I can sell them now that some of this stuff is limited videogame stuff you can only get if you attended a certain convention, and that's been separate this whole time.
I gained a ton of weight and lost a ton of muscle simultaneously during the pandemic which sucked. Was eating really shittily, and am finally eating 3x a day from a meal provider and I calculate about 2 lbs of weight loss per month between my work commute and work assuming my body gets used to the eating every day and makes that my baseline. Unfortunately it could take me 4 to 16 lbs to go down to my prepandemic dimensions, and I have bin of clothes I can add to mg every day wardrobe and more clothes I can try on.
All in all, I have 6 bins of clothes. 1 is work clothes, 1 is half crafting and half winter clothes I am waiting until October to give away to unhoused people (This city is sweep heavy, so it is better to hold onto the clothes and give them out when it is needed.). I regret not going through go my clothes for like months after putting stuff back in storage because I could have given the winter clothes out. Someone who does food distribution has to see people shivering with blue lips. The current season clothes I am ready to give away fit in a damaged backpack which is OK for someone to use in their tent to keep things together or separated afrer a rain, just not aesthetically pleasing. The every day clothes I have right now fit in 1 bin.
1 bin is regular casual clothes I can wear. Another is winteseasonal. 1 is adult venue suitable, and another is in a similar vein. We're at 2% positivity right now which is almost 100k total cases in my city since the only data being provided right now is the test positivity rate in the hospitals. I am waiting for the test positivity rate to go below 0.1% which is 100 cases per 100k.
Going through my stuff today, I see summer and fall stuff I am currently ready to give away, however I am waiting for the season to approach so I am giving things away when people actually want/are looking for those items. For example, I have several pool floats and I have 1 July themed 1. I don't get to swim, I don't like being around top less men cis or not, and I'm probably never going to get to go to a pool party. I have 1 pool float I am probably going to hold onto, and 2 which still hurt because I am a fighting fetishist and they make for blow up weapons.
I looked through my craft supplies and brought out a bunch of stuff I didn't know if I would never use up because I recently found myself making a bunch of pet toys put of supplies left over from last holiday season. There are alot of unhoused people with baby animals right now, and pet toys are something people can use but cannot budget for if they are poor, so I am making suff and then giving them away. And I am glad to say that I won't be hoarding ribbon and faux suede indefinitely, that much of it is actually going to get used.
Over the next year, I will probably start using up my beads in different crafts and I have a couple of specific projects coming up.
Bad news, I still have 2 full bins worth of papers I need to digitize. I am trying to NOT bother with the ex anymore because I just can't, and I have a giant box of papers in his place from when I made a huge effort to downsize my storage unit. Maybe this weekend, but I don't want to see his face or hear from him.
The good thing about spending time at his place was it allowed me to wear things I would wear for him but wouldn't wear at mine, and it allowed me to get rid of a bunch of things I would have otherwise kept holding onto. It took wearing those items regularly to realize I didn't like them after all. And one item I didn't like wound up fitting me better over time and matches something as did keep, but I might still get rid of it in a year.
I would have liked to bring more items over to wear while there, but I am finding I would much rather stay at my place now that I have an ESA and the food situation has gotten better (I am in an interim housing program which is supposed to provide 3 meals a day and accommodate my dietary restrictions. They switched food providers and now I am generally able to get 3 meals a day, but there is still no laundry services on site which is an issue.). I habe exactly 1 outfit at their place which is specifically to wear at their place because I don't mind wearing it there but would never wear it where I currently live.
Once I go down in size to prepandemic clothes, I'll have more shirts, pants, and under clothes I can wear from the bin of casual wear (Which is really like a half bin worth of clothes), but I would rather get down to the lower end of my prepandemic employed weight as those pants are not as comfortable until they're in the oversized due to sensory issues.
Good news, I went through my electronics box and I found a bunch of stuff which is his. Bad news, I still have project items for him to fix along with holiday lights which went out. Good news is he might teach me how to fix the holiday lights. Bad news, he's a dick about working on electronics and had been promising me since 2015 to work on electronics together only to never actually show me anything and get angry.
Oh, and I still have my sentimental iPad which he broke. He promised me he would replace the screen. Also, a laptop screen. I might be picking up work this year which will allow me to purchase replacement screens and get him to fix it as I seem to keep breaking my devices further when I try to fix them myself. I have a phone which is simpler to fix and breaks alot. It's enough for me to know how to fix that, I guess. Even if I tried to do the iPad and laptop repairs myself, the good thing about not being complete 0 contact right now, is I don't have to spend hundreds on repair plus parts if I fuck up.
There was more, but that's about it. My holiday stuff year round is 2 bins worth of stuff and I only have 1 designated bin. ☹️ Did I say I really like Halloween? I guess I have to wait for this holiday season to do what I can while also holding back on supplies. It ultimately comes out to a bin and a bag worth of potential keeps past this winter, though.
I have a a whole foods bags of pom poms I tried to make last holiday season, and it looks like I will be finishing and giving away pom pom garlands and/or ornaments this year because I ultimately ran out of time last year except for what I finished for a community mural. And 1 bag is technically things I will be selling. So theoretically I have a bin and a bag worth of potential keeps past this winter, so that's less daunting than it sounds.
I think I might be ready to give away my felt Halloween bags, and I am ready to give away a bunch of smaller fall items I didn't think I could let go of last year, but I am waiting for Fall when people actually want that stuff. I'm sad that St. Patrick's Day passed and I had a supplies I wanted to use but didn't because my stuff was somewhere in storage. Same with Easter stuff. Now everything is consolidated.
Also, I found a pickle plush I have been stuck with because the ex bought it for me almost a decade ago and was a huge dick. My main memory from that night was us sitting in some carnival ride feeling like crap because he was belittling me and I was wondering to myself what the point of being there was while he treated me like shit. I could wash it and give it away, or I can wash it and give it to him because he loves food themed stuff. And he can be simultaneously sentimental and cruel when it comes to objects. I don't want to see the pickle at his place, and I don't want to think about him holding onto it in some weird way for years, but I don't want to look at it, and he has a ton of food themed stuffed animals. Idk. But Mr. Pickle has to go.

i’ve(25f) been with my fiancé(28m) almost 7 years. he has 2 kids from a previous situation. our entire relationship, i have almost singlehandedly raised his kids. he was their dad of course, did all the dad things, but i always had to be the responsible, organized, “traditional parent” parent, because he just would not break out of this “grown child” behavior pattern. i was waking up at the ass crack of dawn every day to get the kids ready for school, pack lunches, coordinate with their teachers, make meals, do the grocery shopping, give them all their baths, buy their school clothes with my money(bc he seemingly never had a job) and i grew tired of it and left after 5 years. after months of being broken up we hooked up a few times and i got pregnant. we decided it would be best to get back together because he had “turned things around”, had a job, was providing for and taking care of the kids.
surprise, surprise, the baby came along and he no longer has a job, barely contributes as a parent and just plays video games all day. he maybe sees the baby 3 times a day. holds her for a few minutes and gives her back, but when i ask for help, or for 30 minutes to shower or do the dishes, he huffs and puffs about it. baby doesn’t go to bed til 5am every night, and he often pulls all-nighters playing video games, streaming, or just up with insomnia. i have no problems getting to sleep at night, but im never able to because im caring for the baby. it often turns into me sobbing from exhaustion or having outbursts, because when i ask him to keep her so i can rest, his response is “when do you expect me to sleep?” or “it’s not fair that you get to sleep and i have to stay up” when he stays up all night anyway. we argue about his often, among other things. there is no intimacy or romance. i feel like a single mom with roommates, and im growing very tired of it. any thoughts or suggestions?

My wife and I are struggling to motivate our 12 year old to do chores of any type.
We have a vacation planned for July that has been planned for about six months. We've asked him to do some chores such as mowing the lawn, walking his 8 year old sister home from the bus stop, assisting in cleaning the kids bathroom etc in order to help earn some of the spending money for this trip. Every day we have to convince him to do this and we are met with excuses and sometimes tears.
He also wants to build a gaming computer and we have told him we would meet him halfway with cost of parts. We don't want to just buy parts with no work from him.
He does not want to do any outside chores and will ask for alternatives every time they are suggested.
Earlier today our 8 year old spilled something on the stairs and we asked him to help her make sure it was all the way cleaned up. He asked my wife how to do that and when pressed he started back peddling and saying the instructions for how to watch her clean just were not clear. This is unfortunately a pattern that has caused us a lot of trouble with holding him accountable, if we ask him to do a chore we have to follow him around to make sure it's done appropriately and a bigger mess is not made. This is not sustainable for our household where my wife is often home alone with three kids while I'm working 12 hour shifts at the hospital.
He won't pack his own lunch anymore so he has decided just not to eat at school because he doesn't like school lunch. He can't clean up after anything in the kitchen because it's a mad dash back to video games and friends or TV.
If we call him on these things he isn't disrespectful but he doesn't hear us, instead be starts profusely apologizing and sometimes will just shut down. We have him in therapy and I've suggested talking to his therapist about it but my wife is concerned we will come off as complaining about him.
Any advice would be very appreciated.

My (31f) husband (30m) is amazing. We have a 7 week old little girl and he’s the best daddy. He works so hard so I can stay at home. I want to make sure he knows I appreciate him. I take care of the house, everything financial, and the baby. I try to leave him notes in his lunchbox, I get his work clothes ready every night, I make sure his video game controllers are charged for him when he gets home, just little things like that. I just want other input to what I could do to let him know I love him. He’s a blue collar worker and he’s so selfless. I tell him all the time but I just really want him to know.

Hi, I am here to politely ask other fellow Tarnished for help with my build. As I am around leve 93 at this time, just entering Mountaintops of Giants after killing Godfrey Ghost and some other stuff, I feel disappointed by my damage, and even my survivability.
I have 40 Vigor, which I understood is soft cap, but after picking up Marais Executioner Sword after watching videos online, I am disappointed. I was never big fan of 'lets spend 10 minutes buffing my bootie and 10 seconds fighting'.
I wanna go in with brute force or status effects and similar. To give you background:
I am Samurai starting class, was using up until now Bloodhounds Fang with blood loss flame enchantment thing and it felt fine, but when I saw Marais, I was like... 'lets try it'. Now I am dissappointed so I am asking you to help me tailor some better build for me.
I have access to pretty much any area up until mountaintops. I would like to have so nice status effect procs, like frost, blood loss, dont know which one is better, while im also using dragon communion seal and scarlet rot breath on some difficult bosses for me.
I am not totally new, but I am not good at dodging, parrying and similar. I usually make up for it with amount of flasks and well, boring Mimic Tear, lol :D
Final thought is that I don't mind farm for something or fight through the dungeon or anything. I just want something that deals fair amount of damage and isnt underwhelming while fighting stronger enemies like that Zamor guy in ruins in snowfield :D
Thank you! May grace be with u! :)