I'm usually not someone who remembers dreams at all but I can recall these pretty much entirely. I don't know why that's changed for me, but I figured that may also mean something
They always start with me sleeping and waking up to a home intruder, my apartment is recreated perfectly in the dreams too, down to the most minute details like where I left my shoes the night before. its never someone I know, and I always end up killing the person. Its really fucked up and it messes with me for the whole day afterwards.
Every single time this has happened its been extremely gruesome and violent. I hate even thinking about it, so much blood, so much screaming, and it's always so real. The one I had last night I stabbed the other person in my kitchen, she had a knife too, and we both had specific knives that are actually in my kitchen. It was legitimately one of the most gruesome things I've ever seen in my life, genuinely disturbing shit. I almost feel like there was more blood pouring out of her than she could have held in her body, it was awful.
I remember trying to call the cops after the fact but my phone was dead, so I went to charge it and literally sat on my couch staring at her body while I waited for it to charge, woke up as soon as I dialed 911.
I've done a little bit of research on what this could mean but most of what I came up with was stress and anxiety. The weird thing is I've been much less stressed recently as I just finished my finals and have started my summer vacation, and these dreams started up probably 3-4 days after the fact. There's really been nothing new or significant that changed my life personally or at work either so I don't know where that is coming from.
I'll add some more detail and answer any questions if that helps anyone.
I'm mainly concerned because of how well I remember these dreams, again I usually don't remember anything or only remember little bits and pieces of it. So it feels like my brain is trying to tell me something and I don't know what it is.
Thank you for reading and thanks for any help.

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

My hallucinations are morphing today. They tend to, when they’re like this. Usually these hallucinations (I call them forced because they tend to only happen this way now when I smoke) are actually kind of fun and help me relax, like choosing shapes in the clouds. They’re absolutely hallucinations, but they’re also heavily pareidolia. We have a lot of trees along our property and I see things in them. Usually it’s something along the lines of, “hey, that tree there kinda looks like an elephant,” or something, occasionally there’ll be things walking through the trees (impossible things like big foot or one of the big aliens from avatar scales down to human size) but tonight they’re different.
Tonight there are things ON the trees: shadows cast by nothing that are moving. There was a pterodactyl (I almost wanna call it a demon, but I’ve never heard of a Cretaceous demon?) waiting to fly at me, a giant alligator (in a tree? Really?) that turned into an iguana, and when I realized it changed it I watched to see if I could discern what my brain was seeing from what was actually there and it just kept changing until finally it was a spidertaur?
I’m wondering if it’s because I’ve switched to watching horror and sci fi movies instead of like Disney movies?

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

If you wanna make your opinion known on where I go after Networked and His Shining Armor
HungrySpeep bleated;
Hi there! I'm a female Venlil living on Earth, and I wanna talk about my first experience with eating meat!
Let me just say, I will be going into detail about my experiences, so if eating meat is still too much for you, ye have been warned
. . .
If you're still here, congrats! Old school exterminators probably wanna put a shock collar on you!
Moving on
So it happened this one night during a heavy storm, about a year after I'd moved to Earth to be with my mate. I'd just gotten home from work and was feeling terrible. I was cold and soaked, I'd forgotten my lunch and hadn't gotten anything to eat, and I hadn't talked to Lily all day, so I walked in hoping for a warm meal, a couple of dry towels, and some cuddling.
Except, Lily was passed out cold on the coach, still in her gym clothes. Apparently, she'd been ridden hard in training that day and had only gotten as far the living room before going face first into the nearest cushion.
So I pet her hair some, move to the kitchen, get ready to resign myself to some cold salad, when I see it. The crockpot.
(For those of you unaware, a crockpot is Human cooking equipment, a pot in this sort of heated bowl that slowly cooks things, sometimes over the course of a [Day and night]. It's probably more complicated than that, but I don't know, I'm just hungry)
So I kind of just stand there for a moment next to it, feeling the heat coming off of it, seeing the gravy bubble and the roast just slowly fall apart, glistening shreds of meat floating around and soaking in the flavors of the seasoning and sauce.
Like I said, I hadn't had anything to eat that day, and I'd always heard how my mate talked about meat before, how happy she seemed whenever she sat down for a meal with it.
My stomach clenched.
"Just one bite," I told myself, "Just one spoonful. A weird experience I can laugh about later."
I pulled open the cutlery drawer and got a spoon.
"Me and Lily can banter over it, she can call me a Predator, I'll call her my Prey, we can play wrestle over it,"
I took the lid off and the mist hit me full on, a blessing after the strong wind and cold rain, and I swear I could taste this thick headiness in it, made my stomach growl so loud I'm surprised Lily didn't wake up.
"It's nothing weird. There's nothing wrong about it."
I dip my spoon in and pull out a helping of gravy and meat, just a dripping as it steamed.
"It's just a taste."
I put the spoon in my mouth.
And everything changed.
Morning came, and Lily woke up to only enough roast and gravy left for one bowl, and a very guilty Venlil passed out on the couch next to her.
I knew what I'd done wasn't wrong, and it still took me a long time and a lot of help to stop feeling any guilt over it, but it happened. I got to experience something that I was told my whole life was the epitome of evil, that no good or sane person, that no sapient PERIOD would ever indulge in.
And I fucking loved it.
Describing the roast itself; Meat is savory, that cannot be overstated. What I had was beef roast, a thick chunk of meat that's usually chopped up, and served with a side to balance out the heavy flavor. Or, in my case, left to slowly cook and soak in home-made gravy, this thick, off-white sauce that's seasoned and goes perfectly with heavy meats, or grilled and buttered bread as Lily showed me later.
It was hearty, it was filling, it covered every corner of my mouth and warmed me up from the inside out in the heaviest and coziest way possible, and I just couldn't get enough. I never even bothered with a bowl, I just ate straight from the pot, sometimes I reached over to the bread (Human strayu) to get a few slices to spoon it over, usually ended up spilling some on my paws, which were then promptly licked clean.
It was messy, it was taboo, it left me feeling like I had to keep looking over my shoulder after every couple of spoonfuls, and it was the best damn meal I had ever had.
And now, when my [Six foot six inches], [Three hundred pound] heavyweight boxer mate feels like spoiling her little [Four foot eight inches] VenLady, she makes a visit to a nearby wholesaler, takes the crockpot down from the cabinet, and gets out her grandma's notes on home-made gravy.
What about you guys? Did you fall into the meat pit too, and how?
I say again, if you wanna vote or rant about what you want me to do, click this

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss

S, I'm sorry I let 10 years go by, even if it's meaningless to you
Reposting my letters, to satisfy my own heart, to give it once last false hope that they might be found, before I fade away
Dear S.R.D.,
My once person, the love I had to walk away from, a memory lost, fading away.
My memory has always been a broken thing. A blessing, the gift of truly forgetting. A hard drive that pre-programed to wipe things past a certain point, a built in expiration date. A blessing in the ability to move forward, but a curse, when I don't want to let go. My long term memory is broken and always has been.
I hold on with all the strength I have. I replay memories weekly and daily in hopes that they will remain. But no matter the struggle, these thumbnails and Metadata in the cache, they mean nothing as the original files disappear.
I'm heartbroken, knowing that these pieces I held so dear will fade away, many already have. I'm filled with questions, grasping to keep you near. Were hyenas your favorite animal? Did you like the Ace of Spades best? Did I once buy you a stuffie? Was it a girrafe? Did you like the show Archer? Did we watch it at night together while I fell asleep in your arms? Did you help me create the tattoo I wear proudly over my shoulders? Did you prefer Joker and Harley.. or was it Ivy? Didn't you tell me all about it while you played with my hair? It's almost gone now...
You told me once about your gamertag, but I can't recall... You bared your heart to me about a childhood memory, but the details are gone... You smiled so vibrantly about your nephew but I don't remember why... Did you love me as fiercely and deeply as I believed, or have a been a fool filling in memory gaps with made of stories..
I want to ask you all these things. I want to hear you recount our time together so that I may keep your memory close with a new one filled with your soothing voice. But I have long since been forgotten, you have long since moved on and it is all in the past. It doesn't matter to anyone but me, no sane person holds on this long. It's not romantic or endearing, it's sad and concerning.
I can't ask you, and I can't ask anyone else. I can't even talk to anyone about any of this. So for tonight, in the quiet of this sleeping home, I will let my heartbreak and I will let the tears flow and I will grieve for all I am losing. And when eventually these last remnants fade away despite my fighting and holding on, there will at least be these letters to the void, proof that I loved a love that was deeper than love....
From CR.C.R., a beautiful disaster, a stupid and foolish human, a long forgotten memory, a trace from the edge of the abyss
Edit: I thought of another question, I felt the need to include above..

Hey Reddit fam, I'm on the hunt for a resource that dives deep into understanding the patterns and energies at play in human design. You know, stuff like how certain placements, like the 12th, often correlate with being adopted or raised by grandparents. Then there's the Sphinx, where individuals often have a darker past or persona, and the cross of planes, which seems to involve witnessing falls from grace. These observations are based on individual energy configurations, and I'm curious if there's a book out there that explores these connections in detail. Any recommendations?

First Previous
Dr. Dask caught herself lost in thought for what was not the first time that day. The humans were definitely up to something. She paced around her room on the outer-rim of the Lunar facility - built after the previous orbital station was deemed irredeemably outdated by modern standards.
If she’d learned anything in her 20 Earth years studying the people on the blue planet, it’s that they didn’t seem to go without a major war for very long. There were, of course, smaller conflicts and skirmishes all across the planet, as had become routine, but this extended ‘peace’, which had lasted her whole career by this point, must have meant something was off.
Some of her xenosociologist peers theorized that the humans must have, at last, realized how pointless their model of constant bloodbath is, and adopted the ‘civilized’ model of war, as indicated by the increase in their industrial capacities as well as the strengthening of their militaries despite the times of peace. Surely, her fellow scientists argued, this meant that the weapons are starting to be used as a tool of intimidation, rather than destruction and death.
The scientist thought the idea of a “civilized model of war” stupid and inherently contradictory, alas, those assertions were not the main issue she had with their theory. If humans did have a sudden realisation about the horrors they were committing on a daily basis, why were there still so many conflicts all around the world?
Not only that, but the weapons they were testing didn’t seem to be for the sole purpose of shock and awe. Of particular note was when she caught a glimpse of an artillery gun, a weapon designed to launch high-speed projectiles upwards and relying on the planet’s high gravity to bring them down into enemy lines, launching what seemed to be a regular projectile, until it fell on the ground and, rather than exploding, released a large amount of yellow-brownish gas, which surely couldn’t scare the most cowardly of Bannids, let alone a human. She did not know what the purpose of it was, but it definitely unsettled her.
Regardless, almost all of their developments seemed to be about killing each other, but better, and even the most impractical of technologies, namely “zeppelins”, as the humans called the hulking, and very flammable, masses floating above their cities, were being weaponized in one way or the other, for a purpose still shrouded in Dr. Dask’s eyes.
“Ms. Dask?” asked a meek voice, entering her room as she was still pacing around, deep in thought, “The scientists currently stationed at the observatory seem to think large amounts of troops are mobilizing, ma’am, you may want to see this.”
That pulled the scientist right out of her mental state, and heading to the observatory as fast as she could walk before it would be considered a full-blown run. “Thank you, Reylek” she said, directed at the Junior Scientist that was struggling to keep up behind her “This may be the answer I’ve been seeking for so long, we may find what they’ve been doing for all these years” she said, finally finding herself in the confines of the observatory room.
The researcher tried to keep her excitement in check. Whatever was happening, she thought, would definitely involve the deaths of thousands of sapients, as was so terribly common when human militaries got involved with something. She watched, in unabashed curiosity, as armies made of tens of thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of humans marched across the land, wielding the deadliest and most advanced weapons they had so far been able to grasp.
This was, by far, the largest armies she had ever seen. There were records of larger ones being deployed, sure, but being able to personally witness the sheer scale of such a war was truly astounding. They were still only in the mobilization phase, however, and as such the Dr. furiously took some notes and headed to the cafeteria for dinner, which had an extravagant window giving a beautiful view of Earth. The decommissioned space station also had one, and, when the new Lunar base was inaugurated, the older scientists felt quite salty about losing their favourite lookout spot and demanded that a new one be built.
By the end of the month (human calendar), however, her cautioned curiosity had already been turned into sheer terror. Fighting had broken out all across the world, the brutality of the newly developed weapons unmatched by anything she or any of her older colleagues had ever witnessed. Some of the proponents of the human enlightenment theory had locked themselves in their rooms, not being able to bear the sorrow of knowing that they could not have been any more wrong if they tried.
This continued on for untold days and weeks, casualties piling up on every side of the conflict, both soldier and civilian, in enough numbers to collapse any reasonable alien society. The humans, however, fought on, seemingly unphased.
After a few months, as the fighting still raged on from the thickest of jungles to the hottest of deserts, the main front, in the continent containing the nations who first started the war, seemed to come to a standstill. Dask, now significantly more disheveled than she was those sweet months ago before such a massively important event broke out, felt a glimmer of hope. Surely this stalemate would mean the beginning of negotiations, and a possible end to what could only be described as the worst conflict anyone in the outpost had ever witnessed.
The scientist and her colleagues were watching as both sides dug long, sinuous corridors across a field. This, she thought, would force them into peace. No army, not even a human one, would want to get stuck in such an unwinnable situation, where neither side can reliably attack each other without catastrophic losses on both sides.
The group gawked. Some of the humans along the battlefield had suddenly stopped fighting, even climbing into disputed territory, seemingly mingling with those who were their enemies just a few hours prior. This was, as Dask noted, shocked, probably the most human behaviour she’d ever seen. From a senseless bloodbath to camaraderie and care almost instantly. It further fueled her hopes of a peaceful resolution in the end, as clearly such a display of friendship together with the hopelessness of their military positions would be enough to make both sides come to their senses.
Later reports would note that this truce may have had something to do with the end of the Solar year, an occasion celebrated by nearly all humans for as far as Commonwealth records go. The armistice, though, did not last long. By the next day it may as well have never happened, much to the chagrin of the researchers, still hanging onto the slim hope that this would end soon, if not by collaboration then by hopelessness alone.
That, however, was not the case. It had been roughly 5 (human calendar) months since the seemingly random act of peace. Hundreds of thousands more had died, and at this point Dask believed the humans couldn’t actually grasp the scale of what they were doing, especially given how mysterious the actual reasons for the war still were to her. What unfathomable offense had been made for it to spark such slaughter? She did not have the answers, all she knew is that the humans did not seem at all inclined to back down.
By this point, their weapons were only one of the many sources of death and sorrow in this war. Disease ran rampant, with no proper medical facilities on the frontlines, and a lack of supplies meant that several thousands simply starved to death, not a single bullet needing to be fired to cause their demise.
The mood on the research team was somber. The war had been dragging on, and Dr. Dask wondered just how many sleepless nights were yet to come, for she couldn’t truly rest while such terrible acts were taking place so close by. The silver lining, if you could call it that, is that she’d grown somewhat jaded to human warfare, and it did not make her as nauseated as it should, and as it did in the past. Until the shells hit.
As Dask watched, projectiles came down from the sky on a human trench, though, unlike the explosions she’d grown accustomed to, they simply released large amounts of a brownish-yellow gas, which she remembered seeing all those months ago, being tested. Once it dissipated enough to see through, she understood its true purpose, and immediately wished she hadn't. Hundreds of humans, twitching, coughing, vomiting, their skins burnt despite the absence of fire, some of them eerily still, choked out by the gas that had displaced the air on the long dirt corridors.
She stared, in shock, as the other side began charging, putting on masks that deprived them of all human features and walking into the dying lines, immune to the effects of the deadly gas. They mercilessly killed anyone and everyone wearing the wrong uniform, even those already on the floor. She thought about that in contrast to that serene night in which they mingled, it was hardly believable that they were of the same species, let alone the same people altogether.
Vomit filled the observatory. The other researchers, like Dr. Dask herself, thought they were used to human antics at this point, but their ingenuity when it comes to cruelty once again proved to be unrivaled. Most others left the room, leaving the dirty work to the cleaning bots. The Dr. did not vomit, if for no other reason than that she had not yet eaten, and as such physically could not do so. She also returned to her room, no longer feeling even the remotest scientific curiosity to watch such a terrible event unfold.
Over the next several years. The war dragged on and on, mountains upon mountains of bodies piling up,the count in the millions by now, civilians included. The clothes were stripped from the dead, washed anew and given to a young, excited recruit, just for them to meet the same fate, and repeat the cycle once more. Morale among the researchers was at an all time low, many choosing to no longer accompany the fighting as closely, and some retiring from the facility entirely.
The humans, of course, did not care much for the emotions of aliens they didn’t even know the existence of, and as such only got more and more creative with their machinations, from flying machines strapped with bombs and guns, to a brand new vehicle named the “tank”, which was, by all means, a marvel of engineering for their civilization, albeit prone to constant breakdowns. All that to fuel a war which Dr. Dask was still unsure as to the cause.
Dr. Dask herself, albeit far worse-for-wear than she had been before this, kept going. While the overwhelming cruelty was evident, she could not simply ignore the random glimmers offered by the various and random acts of kindness she had seen across the war. From the truce on that night, to a random soldier helping an injured enemy combatant, to humans risking their own life and walking into the line of fire to rescue their comrades.
That’s why, when the day of the Armistice finally came, she was one of the few left from the original team still there to witness it, and, as soldiers disbanded and went home, she could only look across the cafeteria window and into the blue marble above, wondering if this troubled species could ever truly achieve peace and step into the galactic stage as new allies, rather than pariahs.

Author's Note: The masses have once again spoken. I hope you don't mind a slightly more well informed perspective this time, as I can only come up with so many excuses to force an unwitting alien to witness the horrors of war. Definitely a more somber chapter too, which I find rather appropriate for WWI. Once again this turned far larger than I originally intended and I do apologise to those who wanted a detailed, more entertaining reaction to tanks and such, though I felt like it simply would not fit properly into this particular narrative. Finally, feedback and corrections for random inaccuracies are welcome as always. Enjoy!

Hi, I (25M) am in my first serious relationship since the past 5 months. My gf (24F) and I love each other a lot and fortunately have great communication and trust.

Background

I have been going through RJ for most of the relationship since my gf has had significantly more past sexual partners, mostly due to a casual dating phase after 2 serious relationships before we met. My only sexual experience before was one very short term fling over a year before I met my gf. I have been very accepting of my gf's past and attribute our past experiences as almost necessary for leading us to each other and bear no negativity towards her or her past, especially since she has come a long way since then. My gf describes her past sexual experiences as not enjoyable and most of her previous sexual partners as toxic/narcissistic who made her feel quite uncomfortable at many times. Now, I'm a very visual thinker and it's hard for me to control my overthinking when my RJ gets triggered. Most of my RJ is centered at seeing her in pain when I inevitably visualize her with her ex partners, which makes me feel really helpless.
I discovered this sub about 3 months into the relationship and learned about RJ. At first, whenever my gf would mention an ex partner and trigger my RJ (before I was aware of having RJ) I did feel compelled to ask for more details hoping that I'd feel better after knowing. I obviously didn't and learned from this sub not to fall for that compulsion. I shared my feelings about RJ with her and told her that this is something that is entirely on me to work on and that it will only get better with time. I even told her that I won't ask for details about her exes as a step toward improving my RJ. So far, she has been very understanding of my situation and wants to do anything to make me feel better about it. I don't feel intimidated by anyone from her past and she herself says that she thinks I am the best person she has been with, which does help with the RJ. If this was all there was to it, I think I was on the road to overcoming this except for one thing...
One of her best friends is a dude she knows since middle school and they've been part of each others' inner circles since then. She even admitted that he was her first crush. They used to live in the same city 2 years back (still pandemic) and were so bored one day they ended up doing it. They both regretted it and she wishes it never happened but didn't let it affect their friendship. She later switched cities for work and eventually moved to my city. She ended up telling me about this 2 months into our relationship and wanted to know if I was ok with it given they are still close friends and we would eventually meet. I took a few days and told her that it's fine; it's from before I entered her life and they seem completely platonic given how she talks about him. Now, she knows that he is at times a subject of my RJ and I had also told her that I would stop asking for details about her ex partners earlier. However, recently, having a discussion about my RJ in general, it came up that she and her best friend used to be FWBs for a few weeks instead of just accidentally sleeping once, which was an assumption I had falsely made without asking for more details. She definitely didn't try to hide this fact and has been very open to giving me all the details I ask about. Despite that, finding this out made me feel a lot weirder about it but overall nothing needed to be done so I thought it would get better with time. However, he recently moved to our city for a few months before he moves out of the country. He's the only close friend of hers I hadn't met yet and she was very excited to introduce us; she even mentioned at one point that she really really wanted us to get along and become pals since we support the same football team. She hoped that my RJ would get better once I meet him in person.
All 3 of us met up on an evening a few days back. It went quite well - I was very polite and relaxed. I gave them plenty of space to do their own catching up as well since they hadn't met properly in a long time. He later told her about how great he thought I was. However, the truth is I felt uncomfortable throughout the evening and just didn't let it show. I couldn't stop thinking about their past together and the RJ started to get to its worst ever. I will reiterate that I fully trust my gf and their entire interaction seemed very friendly and platonic but the RJ doesn't care about it. Even her banter with her playfully mentioning how he should send her foreign currency to sponsor her trip to meet him infuriated me but I kept it in. I obviously need her to know how I felt about this interaction but I kept it in a little longer coz she was gonna meet him for the last time before his flight and I didn't want her to have a weird interaction with her oldest friend just because my brain is making me feel weird about her past before she met me.

Advice needed

I'm in a weird place now and she knows I've been acting off the last couple days but I'm not sure how to address this with her. I obviously don't think I should ask her to cut off her friendship since there's nothing there I worry about. I know she deeply loves me and don't for a moment think there's anything between the two of them. At the same time, I am really bothered by it coz now every time she mentions him my RJ goes crazy. She has previously told me that maybe it's better for her to share details about her past for the sake of my RJ since I have a tendency to exaggerate a situation that I am visualizing without knowing the full details and that might be making my RJ worse. So I wonder if it will be better if I ask her to spare no detail on their FWB situation, however short and meaningless it was according to her but I am running the risk of ruining my RJ even further by attempting to fuel my curiosity. When it came to her other ex partners, there was some weird respite in knowing that they were kinda assholes/narcissists and that's the easier to deal with RJ since I don't feel jealous as much I just feel bad for her being with those douchebags and having to learn from those mistakes. Even her relationships weren't filled with much love so I feel bad about the toxicity she had to endure being with those guys physically. Most importantly, she is not in contact with any of those people. With this dude, however, it's different. He's still a close friend of hers after being FWBs. I don't feel threatened by him and he actually respects our relationship. She loves sharing everything with me so I know she will always want to talk about him whenever it would come up and I will feel bad asking her to cut that out too.
The core of my problem is that he's the only one of her ex partners who is still a part of her life and that's something that I could never justify in my moral code. I'm a strict exes can't be friends kinda person - I can't be involved physically without having an emotional foundation and my code allows for no contact with anyone I've been intimate with and not seeing anymore. That's kind of a moral difference with my gf coz when she moves on, she can never see that person with those romantic eyes anymore or think about their shared intimate past, which is hard for me to understand but I believe her. It still makes me weird to know that she was intimate like that with someone I will often hear about and occasionally have to meet. I have nothing against him except that he just triggers something in my brain that makes me feel shitty and that there's no one to blame for it. I feel I'm at a weird stalemate where there's no solution where my gf doesn't end up compromising. Even if I ask her to stop mentioning him, that'll still make me feel weird coz I know that's treating a symptom not a cause.

Hello Reddit,
I am looking for an artist whose style fits within the range of these 4 artists that I like but cannot commission due to issues such as budget, availability, etc:
https://www.littlepaperforest.com/
https://www.instagram.com/laserlazuli/?hl=en
https://www.jim-tierney.com/illustration-1
https://madsberg.dk/
I am wanting the piece to be a digital poster that I can use on a blog (that I will create specifically to showcase this image and explain its symbolism) and that I can also print out for personal use. I am wanting it to be done in 400 dpi for printing purposes.
My design for this piece is a little eclectic and unique, but an important disclaimer about it is that it will include explicitly religious imagery.
In particular, Jesus of Nazareth, Gautama Buddha, Socrates, and Confucius will be depicted. There will also be icons representing various world faiths depicted alongside the Bible, as well as a stack of books representing humanity’s accumulated knowledge.
Other than this, the poster will incorporate imagery that references Frank Herbert’s iconic Dune saga, the popular FromSoftware video game Elden Ring, and some of my own personal symbolism.
The image will have 2 central figures with the greatest amount of detail, 4 figures with a little less detail, 2 solid-color figures, and a crowd of 40-50 smaller least-detailed figures representing diverse peoples of the world.
I have reference images for the different parts of the image, as well as a rough sketch/collage of how I want the entire thing to look, and I will share these with any artist who is interested in this project.
I am expecting this piece to be priced at around $100 - $300 USD, give or take a couple hundred. I can be flexible.
Please let me know as soon as possible under this post if you think that you’re up to this challenge and are interested in taking it on!
Best wishes to everyone :)

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

Heading to a remote area of central America for a short trip and considering whether to preventatively get the rabies vaccine due to rabies being endemic in wild dogs. I would be within a half a day of a well equipped hospital in the event of being bit.
The RabAvert About page (https://rabavert.com/about-rabavert/) states:
"RabAvert contains albumin which is a protein found in human blood that carries an extremely remote risk for transmission of viral diseases, including Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease (CJD), a rare brain disorder. No cases of transmission of viral diseases or CJD have ever been identified for albumin."
Is it possible that someone with COVID-19 or treated for it could transmit COVID or spike proteins through the albumin in the vaccine? I know transmission has not been documented, but it would also be practically impossible to isolate the vaccine as an infection method.

I was reading some summarized medical notes from childhood just for kicks and giggles and man, talk about really seeing some of the ableism. I knew what I was in for since I had recently requested later records, so for this one I opted to just get abstract summaries. I had no particular motivation in getting these records other than a strong idle curiosity. I now have a few connected diagnoses, you know the ones, POTS/EDS, allergies, asthma, and also narcolepsy is thrown in there just for fun. Plus the occasional eczema flare up and recurring headaches that never stay on my chart.
I think some small part of me hoped that the notes from my pediatric time would show doctors who cared but couldn’t figure out the problem. With the records I found from my high school years, that tiny hope was quashed without a bit of surprise.
When I was a kid, we’d been in and out for years between headaches and abdominal pain. Lots of the abstracts imply my mom is somehow at fault for bringing me in but oh this one section just made me put my phone down. I was 9 at the time of this visit, just for context. Cynicism was clear in the notes that I was being coached on describing my headaches because I sometimes looked to my mother to help me explain or give details on symptoms of my severe headaches, specifically the possible auras. Probably because I was in too much pain at the time to code the memories properly and also I was barely 9, of course I was going to check with my mom.
Multiple notes reference me watching TV or reading or listening to soothing music “despite” my headaches and idk maybe I did but I also know I had a lot of times I laid in the bathroom because it was the only quiet and dark place.
Apparently abdominal migraines are a thing and even when one of the medical professionals said that seemed to be part of my problems, the sheer skepticism oozing from these notes…I have to laugh so I don’t get angry. It 100% sounds like my symptoms were worsened by my anxiety/depression but my mom brought me into the office during one and I was clearly suffering, that wasn’t “just” psychosomatic. Also, luckily, I outgrew the abdominal migraines.
I also had an essential tremor (now treated perhaps thanks to my POTS beta blocker) worsened by anxiety and I acknowledge it was worsened by anxiety, that doesn’t mean caused by anxiety ffs. That issue came up later, in the previous set of requested records. Also we kept bringing it up with doctors because my teachers were commenting to us on it out of concern.
Back to the records I just got though. Multiple instances occurred where we got blamed by one specialist for trusting another. Example: with the GI issues, one person told us maybe it was lactose intolerance. Another person down the line would take notes like we were hypochondriacs for saying “person 1 said maybe there’s lactose intolerance, maybe that’s part of it? We were told to track if symptoms were worse after milk. They didn’t seem to be but maybe?” The test for it later came back negative and the notes sound so high and mighty that again, it’s laughable.
Also the amount of “in no acute distress” despite coming in for complaints of pain, etc. I’m not surprised but I am somehow still disappointed.
Mom did get anxious about my health sometimes, seems she tried to keep me away from milk for a bit just in case. I also do believe there were some things where she brought me in unnecessarily but the poor woman was an anxious first time parent. I fault her for lots of other things but not being overly worried about my health to doctors who kept dismissing everything. Plus, I’ve always been extremely sensitive to physical stimuli and imagine I was deeply unpleasant when dealing with that discomfort while learning how to be a human.
On a more lighthearted note, apparently I took a prescription of belladonna for a while, I didn’t even know that was a thing but it was a fun Google rabbit hole to go down. I guess I also played soccer when I was in 3rd grade, which was news to me! I don’t doubt it, I just didn’t remember I’d played it.
I’m not genuinely distressed, like I said, I expected the ableism. Mostly I’m just satisfied to have my curiosity largely sated and a better timeline of certain things in my own life. As sad as it is, I can’t help laughing that multiple grown ass adults with medical degrees seemed to have one-sided beef with prepubescent me. Why even go into pediatrics, especially a pediatric specialty like urology, cardiology, etc.? (Rhetorical question)

Ever watch a drama where by the time the ending credits roll for the final episode, you start wishing you can get a refund for your time spent?
If so, come to this thread to lament about that drama you wish you'd never watched!
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In order to keep this thread from becoming a vortex of negative energy we encourage our users to share their reasons and reviews as to why they regretted watching certain dramas. This way rather than just hating on dramas without reason this thread can become a constructive place for us all. We can learn from each other and maybe even be convinced by others as to why a drama may have been worth watching after all.
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