How to get by iprism at school

I was born and raised here for most of my life. The continuing theme when I hear people talking about what they do for fun or when I leave for a few years and then come back and ask what people do for fun is “oh my God we should totally get some alcohol and drink everything! “ Or Oh my God, we went out to the bars the other night and got so drunk. We had to take a cab home. It was so much fun. I got so wasted and threw up everywhere. “ Or the best one “Yeah, we went out with these people and so and so friends, and got so stoned, and drank so much that we were high as kites and blasted off our asses!“
At first growing up here and getting out of high school finally At first growing up here and getting out of high school which is what I thought this mindset was limited to, I associated it with like I said young people maybe people in their early to mid 20s, which is normal. We’ve all done that to some extent maybe not every day but to some extent. I’ve been working with older people in the healthcare setting ( coping and dealing with emotional stress in healthcare is a beast on its own. We’re not going there and that’s not what I’m talking about currently ) and people in there mid 30s 40s even in their 50s, still just like to go out to a bar and “get blasted “or “get so stoned and drunk “.
I’m not one to hate on how anybody entertains themselves here, I know there’s not much to do, but damn I’ve been fishing with people and by myself and may have only consumed 2 to 3 beers over the course of a 5 to 6 hour fishing session and that’s it! I don’t see how these people go out and continue to live that lifestyle. It just seems immature and emotionally stunted. The worst part is when I get invited to “ go out and drink “ or “ light up a J and we can hang out or we can all hit the bong and drink and talk and hang out “ I mentioned alternatives like playing dungeons, and dragons, or a card game, or a board game, poker, monopoly deal, go to a movie, go fishing literally anything else, I get looked at as the weird one and the outsider which I’ve been looked at my whole life anyway. I don’t know, man, I know drugs and alcohol are meant to “enhance the experience “but it seems like that’s literally everyone does here and it’s sad! I’m tired of being looked at as the weird one for mentioning anything other than drinking and doing drugs. I’m not innocent to any of these. I’ve done my fair share when I was growing up, but I’m 35 years old now I’m waaaaay past that and it just seems like people are permanently stuck with thinking that’s all there is to do.
If you’ve read this far down, I appreciate your time. Maybe I am the weird one and just never gonna find the group of people that I can click with but it sucks being 35 years old, no friends, and when you try to meet up with people and suggest hanging out together and making friends you get looked at as the weird one because you don’t do the “social norm “. Just to specify: when I talk about working in healthcare, I am talking about nurses, EMTs, paramedics ( I am one for 6 years now ), respiratory therapist, Mds, physicians, assistant, transporters – pretty much anyone in healthcare.
If I’m the weird isolated incident, fine whatever I’ll just have to eat that. But I hope I’m not the only one here and that this branch is out to other areas of Cape Coral, Fort Myers and not just isolated to healthcare.
Thanks for your time and watch out for the snowbirds, they will run your car into a wall before they let you get over in any lane. Please wear your seatbelt as well, seen a lot of bad accidents recently that could’ve prevented death and/or avoid injuries simply by wearing a seatbelt.

How quickly we all forget. It's round two that means the beast inside Al Horford must slumber until it is awoken. Let's take a look at the last two round two's.
2022: Down 2-1 in a must win game on the road, Giannis dunks on Al Horford and then bumps him in the chest. This awakens the anger of big Al who promptly dunks on Giannis, elbows him in the face and drops a career playoff high 30 points in a win.
2023: In the midst of a shooting slump against his son. Al Horford remarks that he is an elite shooter. A reporter laughs and Al goes "You're laughing? You don't think I'm an elite shooter?"
Horford responds by draining 5 threes in the ensuing game in a win.
So guys, if you want Horford to play well, go find him and tell him that he's washed, getting cooked and can't hit a 3 to save his life. Then he'll go for 40 and remind these kids that he's been getting buckets since they were in pre-school.

Chapter 2
Before doing a deep dive into my memory flashes to discover and how and why my life unfolded the way it did I think I’ll do a timeline. This will help me and the reader (if anyone follows along at all) put the pieces in chronological order.
I was born to a teenage mom, a month after she turned 16 and a barely drinking age dad. No memory, so these early years (before the court) will be what I’ve been told.
“Had the perfect family and the mom who adored me”
At two they decided to break up and it was very ugly. My paternal grandparents paid for the best lawyer in all of the state to get my dad custody. He was accused of molesting me (my mom’s argument in court) I don’t know why it was so ugly but during the trial I was placed in a facility and only allowed short visits. Here is an excerpt from their website.
“We are a behavioral health agency specializing in the treatment of families, children and their caregivers who are struggling due to issues of divorce, homelessness, child abuse/neglect, family violence or other crises. Our highly trained staff specializes in trauma-informed treatment methods that create a safe and comfortable environment in which our clients can heal. We serve children, youth and their families struggling with mental and behavioral health issues that impact their success at home, school and in their community.”
I was then allowed to be with my maternal grandparents while the case continued. She had an in home daycare. My grandpa was not by blood. She had divorced my mom’s dad when my mom was just a baby. He was dark and satanic, into satanic rituals and things like that. A biker. And a pedophile. I never knew him.
My dad won the case and my mom lost all custody and was not granted any visitation at all. (And I didn’t see her or speak with her again until I was around 5. Then again at 14. Then again at 16.)I lived with my dad and his parents and siblings and saw maternal grandparents every other weekend.
At three, I went to a private preschool.
At four I attended a public school where my paternal grandma was a principal and my maternal grandma was a teachers aid as well. Here I stayed for preschool through half of second grade.
My grandparents decided they were no longer happy where we were. My grandpa moved to the mountains and my grandma moved to Georgetown in DC to attend the Jesuit college.
My dad met Jennifer (name changed) at this time and we moved into her downtown apartment. I changed schools. Finished my 2nd grade year and half of third grade.
We moved from the apartment back into my childhood home and I changed schools again. Finished my 3rd grade and half of fourth grade at a new school.
Half way through my fourth grade year I was sent to Georgetown with paternal grandma and aunt. My dad and Jennifer stayed at home. We lived in the basement of a multimillion dollar home in the heart of where the wealthy live. Cobblestone streets. Beautiful houses and lots of money. Like from a movie. I went to a very elite small elementary school with only one class per grade. I finished fourth grade and fifth grade here.
The summer of sixth grade my dad had broken up with Jennifer and moved to the mountains with my grandpa. I moved back with them. I went from super ritzy upscale city life with two women, to a small house in the mountains with barely even indoor plumbing with 2 men. The town was small and secluded. Everyone knew everyone type of place. only one elementary school and the middle school was on the same premises of the high school. I was here 6th grade through half of 9th grade. My dad then met Candace (name changed) and moved thirty minutes away to slightly bigger town with her. These years I went every summer to stay with my grandma who had moved from DC to Arlington, VA and lived in crystal city.
Over the summer I was sent to live in New York City with my aunt. When summer was over, we got an apartment in staten island so I could attend school and she commuted to the city everyday by ferry. This school had thousands of kids and seemed like hundreds of classes. This was when 9/11 happened. I was in my language class (Italian) when the news came over the intercom. My auntie worked near the world trade center by only blocks. She made the last ferry out and came to the school, which was on lockdown, for me. I didn’t go back to the city for the remainder of 2001.
In March of 02 my dad came to NY packed us both up and we drove across the country to cali to drop her off then back to southwest. I moved back to the small town with my dad and Candace. And finished the last months of my sophomore year commuting the thirty minutes to my old school. They were a violent and toxic couple so I begged to move back to grandpas in the mountain town.
I changed schools again for my junior year. I went to one of two high schools in the slightly bigger town where my dad and Candace lived. Close to my senior year my dad came to my work one night and said he and Candace had broken up. He had a small apartment. A one bedroom. I was welcome to stay and he would take the couch. He knew 18 was close and he wanted me to live with him before I was out on my own. I did. I met my husband this year as well. He lived close to where I was born. We stayed long distance until I turned 18. When I turned 18, I found a charter school in my original hometown and we got an apartment.
The rest is history. My adult life is another novel of its own and I’m exhausted.
I fear posting this. If anyone were to come across it by chance they would know immediately it was me. And the memories I hope to uncover are to humiliating and intense and known by no one. I have never spoke about them to anyone. The other obvious issue is if in fact I was a victim in mkultra/child trafficking, it automatically implies my family must have had some kind of knowledge. Which would imply they did this to me. And if it’s not true everything I write and all the memory flashes are just me being a slut and having zero self worth. It would be that I’m was the problem the entire time.
And why did I never finish a school year any where? Lol
No, maybe this is a mistake. Maybe everything is better left unsaid and uncovered. I’m exhausted now.

DISCLAIMER: Sorry this is a day late. I ended up having to rewrite half of this. Still, I hope you enjoy. After this, I'll be going on my hiatus. So I hope you like this last little bit of Roo-family cuteness. Thank you all and keep on keepin' on!
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Special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NoP universe.
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I'd also like to thank u/xskipy10 for their awesome fanart of the main cast as well as their recent Tohba meme and their fanart of Michael baysitting. You're work is a treasure!
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Thank you as well to u/Accomplished-Golf-59 for his take on Michael, Teylim, and Tohba in his submission for the Banner Art Contest, and u/Spacer_Catgirl4969 for their awesome music video featuring a pixel-art Dohkar in his bar. Be sure to give ALL of these awesome creators your love and support.
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And let's not forget u/Guywhoexists2812 who has been an awesome source of memes as well as sick pixel art, such as THIS and THIS!!!! And even THIS!!!!!! And how could I forget THIS!!!!!!!!!! Thank you so much!
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Today, we see all the reasons Teylim has to keep going in the face of adversity. For when all is said and done, love truly does conquer all. LETTUCE...begin...
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Original Story
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[Accessing Camera Function…]
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[Accessing Saved Recordings Function…]
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[Play Selected Recording?: Y/N…]
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[Playing Recording!]
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[The camera opens up on a female Yotul with a satchel over her shoulder. She is walking backwards down a paved walkway while looking up at the person holding the camera…]
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“Alright! Soooo…here we are in… Michael tell us where we are!”
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[The person holding the camera gives an audible sigh…]
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“Do I have to, Tey?”
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“Yes! Come on, it’ll be fun!”
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[Another audible sigh is heard before the person begins panning the camera around the surrounding cityscape…]
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“We are in the beautiful, literally ALWAYS sunny capital of Dayside City!”
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“And what would you say we’re doing here in Dayside City?”
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“We were just at the Public Records building getting our paperwork verified.”
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[The Yotul woman is seen reaching into her satchel and pulling out a leaflet of documents…]
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“Oh! You mean THIS paperwork? Hmmm… I wonder what these might say… Mind helping me here?”
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“Seriously?”
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[The Yotul doesn’t answer, instead shoving the documents directly into the camera. Another, more amused-sounding sigh is heard…]
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“It says that your name has been officially changed to ‘Teylim Andrews.’”
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“Mmmmhmmm. And what about this one?”
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“That one says that Tohba’s name has been officially changed to ‘Tohba Andrews.’”
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“Aaaand why do you suppose that is?”
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[A shuffling sound is heard and the camera shifts as the person holding it pulls out their own papers…]
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“Probably because according to MY paperwork, while we’re still waiting for my Application of Citizenship to go through, I, Michael Ruiz Andrews, am now the full, legal, son of one, Teylim Andrews-”
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“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!!!!”
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[The Yotul woman darts forward, wrapping the person holding the camera in a hug. The camera is set on the ground and the face of the person is now visible. The two hold their embrace, rocking back and forth…]
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“I love you so much, my joey…”
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“Love you too, Ma…”
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[Recording Ceases…]
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[Play Next Recording?: Y/N…]
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[Playing Recording!]
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[The camera opens on a small kitchen area where two beings are sat eating. On the left, a male Yotul infant in a high chair is munching away at a human food identified as “Cheerios” spread across his tray. On the right, a male human idly stirs at a bowl of cereal while tapping away at a datapad…]
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[Eventually, after munching down another “Cheerio”, the infant catches a glimpse at the human and stares for approximately one second before his tail begins wagging…]
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“Mikey?”
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[The humans attention is broken away from their datapad and immediately focuses on the infant…]
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“Yeah, Bud?”
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“I WUV YOOOUUU.”
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[The infant’s sing-song voice seems to make the human smile before he leans forward, planting a “kiss” on top of the infant’s head…]
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“MmmMUAH! Te amo, mi hermanito.”
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“Whaz dat mean?”
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“It means, ‘I love you, Little Brother’. Want me to teach you?”
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“Hmmmmm… OKAY!”
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“Okay.”
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[The human chuckles slightly before scooting his chair in…]
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“Okay, so when you want to tell someone you love them, you say, ‘Te amo.’ Okay?”
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[The infant gives a curious ear flick…]
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“Teeeh…Mo?”
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“Close! Here. Repeat after me. Te…”
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“Teeh…”
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“Ah…”
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“Aaahh…”
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“Mo…”
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“Moh!”
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“Te…ah…mo…”
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“Teeh…aaahh…mo!”
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“Okay! All together now. Te amo.”
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“¡TE AMO!”
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[The human excitedly gets up from his seat and embraces the infant…]
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“YES!!! You did it! Awesome job, Bud!”
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“YAAAAYYY!!!! ¡TE AMO, MIKEY!”
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“MMMUAH!! ¡Te amo, precioso hermanito!”
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[The camera jitters slightly and a muffled giggling is heard. The human turns to face the camera…]
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“Ma? What are you- Have you been recording this whole time?”
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“Just a little!”
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“Must you record everything?”
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“As a matter of fact, yes!”
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“MAMA!!”
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[The camera zooms in on the excited infant…]
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“Hello, Precious! Is your big brother teaching you Spanish?”
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“UH-HUH!! ¡TE AMO, MAMA!”
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“Ooooh, that is just ADORABLE! Can you teach him to say ‘Mama’ in Spanish, too?”
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[The camera pans over to the human, who raises an eyebrow. After a moment, the human smirks and gives an exaggerated shrug while shaking his head…]
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“No tengo que hacerlo. Él ya lo sabe, mamá.”
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“Pffft! Smart aleck.”
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[Recording Ceases…]
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[Play Next Recording?: Y/N…]
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[Playing Recording!]
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[The camera opens up facing a pair of beds in a small room. On one bed, a female Yotul is sat with her infant in her lap as a male human walks into frame carrying a brightly wrapped gift box…]
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“Merry Late Christmas, guys!”
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“Merry Christmas, Michael!”
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“Mewwy Kwizmuz, Mikey!”
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[The human kneels down and hands the infant the gift box…]
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“Sorry this gift is a bit last minute, but I managed to grab it while I was out with ‘Nel the other day.”
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“I’m sure it’ll be perfect, Michael.”
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“I hope so. Go on, Bud. Open it! It’s for you!”
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“OKAY!!!”
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[The infant rips away at the brightly-colored paper, and with help from his mother, lifts off the lid. The infant then excitedly starts bouncing up and down and reaches into the box, pulling out a bright-red plush…]
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“WED TIWFISH!!!!!!”
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“Oh, Michael! How? When?”
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“I had to ask around online if anyone else had plushies from the aquarium ship, and I managed to find a guy here in Dayside. There’s…still a lot of things we lost at the house that need to be replaced, but I figured this would be a good start…”
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“It’s perfect.”
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[The three embrace and hold it for several seconds before pulling back…]
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“BUT! I’m not done with gifts just yet.”
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“What?”
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“Here. Mind handing me your pad?”
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“Sure?”
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[The Yotul hands the human her datapad as he pulls a small drive from his pocket and plugs it in. After a moment, he smiles and sits down on the bed next to the Yotul. She is then seen gasping and covering her mouth with her paws…]
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“Michael…”
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“I overheard you on the phone with Aunty Triv, talking about how you wish you had some pictures of me when I was younger…”
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“How on Liern-”
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“It’s…a long story. When I was first taken into foster care after getting rescued, I was assigned a social worker to help me adjust. And after I got situated with Dad, he stayed and helped us out from time to time. He basically became like an uncle to me after a while. And since Dad didn’t really have any other family, whenever he wanted to share pictures of me growing up, he’d send a copy to my social worker. I’ve…been back in contact with him for a little while now, and it turns out he kept them.”
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“Oh, Michael…”
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[The Yotul and human lean against each other and embrace…]
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“I love you, Ma.”
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“I love you too, my joey.
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[Still leaning against each other, they begin to swipe at the pad, presumably looking through pictures. After a few swipes, The Yotul begins chuckling hysterically…]
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“Aaaawwweee…”
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“Crap, I forgot about that one!”
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“Who’z dat?”
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“That’s…me, Bud.”
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[The infant looks at the image for a while, still holding the bright red plush…]
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“Teeheehee!! Fuzzy Mikey!”
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“Can we please just swipe to the next one?”
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“Wait. I’ve seen those kinds of human garments before! Aren’t those for…LITTLE…little joeys?”
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“Look, I was a very emotionally stunted kid and I just thought they were comfy, alright?”
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“This is SO going on the desk.”
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“Please no. Any of them but that one.”
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“Nope! It’s already decided!”
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“YAAYYY! FUZZY MIKEY!”
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“God, ‘Nel’s never gonna let me live this down…”
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[Recording Ceases…]
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Memory Transcript Subject: Teylim Andrews, Yotul Accountant And Loving Mother Of Two
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Date:[Standardized Human Time] February 1, 2137
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[Warning: REM Sleep Detected: Transcript May Be Fragmented Or Incomplete…]
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Crrreeeeaak…
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My eyes slowly squint open as the noise rouses me from sleep. I let out a yawn before looking for the source of the noise. I’m…back in my house… Sitting upright, I see that my door’s been opened, beaming The Dayside’s permanent daylight into my room. I was confused for a moment. The only other person here that would be here is-
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“Uuuuhhmm… M-Mrs. Teylim?”
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I looked down, and spotted the culprit.
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Standing in the doorway was a small human child, cradling my Tohba in his arms. He was silhouetted from the daylight behind him, the light beaming past his adorable onesie pajamas creating a small blue outline around him, matching his eyes.
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Strange. For some reason, I thought he was taller…
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“Michael, sweetie? What’s the matter?”
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Still carrying Tohba, Michael made his way over to the bed.
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“Uuuhhhmmm… Tohba h-had a n-nightmare…”
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“Ooohh, is that so?”
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Something definitely didn’t add up. As he gently handed Tohba over to me, he certainly didn’t seem to be having a nightmare. In fact, even now he was still sleeping peacefully.
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Michael, on the other paw, was DEFINITELY out of sorts. He was nervous, fidgeting, wrapped up in a self-hug, and even now, refused to even look at me. Whether that was because of his nervousness or if he was still convinced I was afraid of him had yet to be seen.
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Stupid, ridiculous, Federation dogma…
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I could tell he wasn’t being honest with me. Ordinarily, I would’ve been upset about him lying, and even more so about him disturbing Tohba, but looking at him now, I knew what he needed now wasn’t a scolding.
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“Michael, you know you can be honest with me. Was it really Tohba who had the nightmare?”
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I heard him nervously gulp as he tightened the self-hug around himself. After a moment, he shook his head.
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“Mm’mm…”
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I gave a tired, but loving sigh before holding out my free arm.
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“Come here.”
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With some hesitation, he stepped closer, allowing me to pull him into a hug. Michael had a lot of issues. From what I learned from his social worker, he’d been terribly abused by his previous mother and he’d lost his father only a few years after moving in with him. And now, with Earth under attack, he simply didn’t have anywhere else to go.
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It will take a long time before he’s fully comfortable living here, I know that. I’m still not even entirely sure if I’m what he needs. I still wonder if I know what I’m doing when it comes to just raising Tohba. Even so, I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try. He deserves a home, and a mother who loves him. All children do.
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“I'm sorry for lying…”
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“Ssshhh… It’s alright. Do you want to talk about it?”
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“It was…the one with the scary fire people…”
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Oh…THAT dream…
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Exterminators.
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“I don’t want them to come… I don’t want them to-“
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“It’s okay, joey. They won’t get you here.”
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“No! That’s not… That’s not what I’m scared of…”
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I pulled back slightly, allowing myself to look directly at him. He sniffles and sobbed while trying to wipe away tears.
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“You’re all so nice to me… \sniff** I…I-I don’t want the fire people to hurt you… I sh-shouldn’t be here…”
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My heart broke in two. This poor child had already lost so much. It only made sense that he’d be afraid of losing us too.
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I cupped his face in my paw, wiping away his tears.
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“Michael Ruiz Andrews, I don’t care what you might have heard, but you have every RIGHT to be here. And if those scary people out there think they can come and take us away from you, they’re wrong. I will never let us be separated. You hear me?”
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“. . .P-promise?”
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“With all my heart. You’re MY joey now, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”
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At last, Michael finally unwrapped himself from his self-hug and instead wrapped his arms around me, burying his face in my fur.
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After a while of holding him, he’d finally calmed down enough to speak again.
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“C-can I…sleep here tonight?”
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Your joey needs you.
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Yes.
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“Of course.”
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With some effort, he climbed up onto the bed and curled up next to me. I knew I most likely wouldn’t be getting anymore sleep, but that was fine. Just laying here, holding my boys in my arms. That was enough.
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One after the other, I gave both my joeys a lick on the forehead.
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“Goodnight my joeys. I love you.”
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“Wuv…you…Ma…ma…”
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“. . .Love you too...Mom…”
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I love my boys. I love my family. I love…my life…
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[Transcript Time Progression: 4 hours…]
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Beebeebeebeep! Beebeebeebeep! Beebeebeebeep!
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[Warning: Subject Regaining Consciousness…]
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My entire body protested as I twisted and turned over to tap the alarm on my nightstand. My claw slapped blindly at it until finally, the agitating alarm was silenced. My eyes squinted open, revealing…I was back in our motel room…
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Well…a girl can dream, can’t she?
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It was a pleasant dream, I’ll give it that. As I sat up, I let my legs dangle off the side of the bed as I stretched myself out and let out a yawn. Once my eyes had fully opened, and the fog had been blinked away, I was immediately met with a sight that warmed my heart to no end. My still fast asleep, and back to being tall, new son, curled up with his baby brother on the other bed.
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Precious boys. MY precious boys.
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I did my best to remember if Michael had anything scheduled with Khornel for this paw, but nothing came to mind. He’d been working so hard lately, helping to keep us above water. Now that he wasn’t a refugee anymore, we were no longer receiving stipends from the program, which meant from here on out, keeping the bills paid was much more difficult. And that’s not even mentioning having to put aside anything we can to be able to eventually have the house rebuilt.
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I kept trying for a while, I still couldn’t remember anything. For the first time in a decent while, he had a paw off.
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Good. I’ll leave him be then. He’s earned some rest.
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I let out one more yawn, before getting up. Unfortunately, while Michael didn’t have to work this paw, I wasn’t so fortunate. Thankfully, my recent injuries allowed me to continue to work from home instead of going out to the physical office. After one last stretch, I let myself slide off the bed.
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I had to give myself a moment once I was upright. While my previously broken leg had healed for the most part, I still needed to be careful of how much weight I put on it. Once I was ready, I began walking to our small kitchen area. The fridge was nearly empty. I’d need to go to the store soon.
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Thank goodness we’re staying in Soulroot, where literally EVERYTHING is expensive…
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After cutting up some leftover fruit and strayu for myself, I went back to my desk. It was impossible to not notice the small stack of colorful books on the ground next to it. They were human kid’s books donated from the embassy here in Soulroot. Tohba would be ready to start going to school in just a few short cycles…
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Will we be able to get out of here and back into our house before then?
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Sitting down at my desk and booting up my pad, I found it hard to stay focused. There was still so much to do, so much to worry about. Before, when I was feeling overwhelmed, I’d have Loh, Dohkar, or Trivah there for me. With them around, it always helped things feel more manageable. But now…now I was alone again. Loh was gone. Dohkar and Trivah were stuck on the other side of that damned fence…
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What are we going to do?
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My head lowered. I stared blankly at the desk, partly wishing I could look through it at ANYTHING other than my work.
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But then, there was a glint, just out of the corner of my eye…
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I looked up, and saw something that I couldn’t help but smile at, something that even when I’m feeling low, reminds me why I have to keep going.
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I reach out…and grab the two small frames off the corner of my desk and hold them in front of me. In my left paw, wass a framed picture of Tohba, the paw he was born. So small. So precious. So perfect. And in my right, was another picture. It was my new favorite picture.
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A small, human child…in fuzzy, blue, onesie pajamas that matched his eyes.
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My Michael. Still so small.
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These two pictures. My boys. The villains outside could take everything else. So long as I have my boys, I will always have a reason to keep going.
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I love my boys… I love my family… I love my life…
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The End

Chapter 2
Before doing a deep dive into my memory flashes to discover and how and why my life unfolded the way it did I think I’ll do a timeline. This will help me and the reader (if anyone follows along at all) put the pieces in chronological order.
I was born to a teenage mom, a month after she turned 16 and a barely drinking age dad. No memory, so these early years (before the court) will be what I’ve been told.
“Had the perfect family and the mom who adored me”
At two they decided to break up and it was very ugly. My paternal grandparents paid for the best lawyer in all of the state to get my dad custody. He was accused of molesting me (my mom’s argument in court) I don’t know why it was so ugly but during the trial I was placed in a facility and only allowed short visits. Here is an excerpt from their website.
“We are a behavioral health agency specializing in the treatment of families, children and their caregivers who are struggling due to issues of divorce, homelessness, child abuse/neglect, family violence or other crises. Our highly trained staff specializes in trauma-informed treatment methods that create a safe and comfortable environment in which our clients can heal. We serve children, youth and their families struggling with mental and behavioral health issues that impact their success at home, school and in their community.”
I was then allowed to be with my maternal grandparents while the case continued. She had an in home daycare. My grandpa was not by blood. She had divorced my mom’s dad when my mom was just a baby. He was dark and satanic, into satanic rituals and things like that. A biker. And a pedophile. I never knew him.
My dad won the case and my mom lost all custody and was not granted any visitation at all. (And I didn’t see her or speak with her again until I was around 5. Then again at 14. Then again at 16.)I lived with my dad and his parents and siblings and saw maternal grandparents every other weekend.
At three, I went to a private preschool.
At four I attended a public school where my paternal grandma was a principal and my maternal grandma was a teachers aid as well. Here I stayed for preschool through half of second grade.
My grandparents decided they were no longer happy where we were. My grandpa moved to the mountains and my grandma moved to Georgetown in DC to attend the Jesuit college.
My dad met Jennifer (name changed) at this time and we moved into her downtown apartment. I changed schools. Finished my 2nd grade year and half of third grade.
We moved from the apartment back into my childhood home and I changed schools again. Finished my 3rd grade and half of fourth grade at a new school.
Half way through my fourth grade year I was sent to Georgetown with paternal grandma and aunt. My dad and Jennifer stayed at home. We lived in the basement of a multimillion dollar home in the heart of where the wealthy live. Cobblestone streets. Beautiful houses and lots of money. Like from a movie. I went to a very elite small elementary school with only one class per grade. I finished fourth grade and fifth grade here.
The summer of sixth grade my dad had broken up with Jennifer and moved to the mountains with my grandpa. I moved back with them. I went from super ritzy upscale city life with two women, to a small house in the mountains with barely even indoor plumbing with 2 men. The town was small and secluded. Everyone knew everyone type of place. only one elementary school and the middle school was on the same premises of the high school. I was here 6th grade through half of 9th grade. My dad then met Candace (name changed) and moved thirty minutes away to slightly bigger town with her. These years I went every summer to stay with my grandma who had moved from DC to Arlington, VA and lived in crystal city.
Over the summer I was sent to live in New York City with my aunt. When summer was over, we got an apartment in staten island so I could attend school and she commuted to the city everyday by ferry. This school had thousands of kids and seemed like hundreds of classes. This was when 9/11 happened. I was in my language class (Italian) when the news came over the intercom. My auntie worked near the world trade center by only blocks. She made the last ferry out and came to the school, which was on lockdown, for me. I didn’t go back to the city for the remainder of 2001.
In March of 02 my dad came to NY packed us both up and we drove across the country to cali to drop her off then back to southwest. I moved back to the small town with my dad and Candace. And finished the last months of my sophomore year commuting the thirty minutes to my old school. They were a violent and toxic couple so I begged to move back to grandpas in the mountain town.
I changed schools again for my junior year. I went to one of two high schools in the slightly bigger town where my dad and Candace lived. Close to my senior year my dad came to my work one night and said he and Candace had broken up. He had a small apartment. A one bedroom. I was welcome to stay and he would take the couch. He knew 18 was close and he wanted me to live with him before I was out on my own. I did. I met my husband this year as well. He lived close to where I was born. We stayed long distance until I turned 18. When I turned 18, I found a charter school in my original hometown and we got an apartment.
The rest is history. My adult life is another novel of its own and I’m exhausted.
I fear posting this. If anyone were to come across it by chance they would know immediately it was me. And the memories I hope to uncover are to humiliating and intense and known by no one. I have never spoke about them to anyone. The other obvious issue is if in fact I was a victim in mkultra/child trafficking, it automatically implies my family must have had some kind of knowledge. Which would imply they did this to me. And if it’s not true everything I write and all the memory flashes are just me being a slut and having zero self worth. It would be that I’m was the problem the entire time.
And why did I never finish a school year any where? Lol
No, maybe this is a mistake. Maybe everything is better left unsaid and uncovered. I’m exhausted now.

Hi all, I’m facing a pretty delicate situation here and could use some input and advice on what to do. So in 2014 my mother bought me a cat, I was 14 at the time and although I was young I helped care for our cat Kiki. When I turned 18 I left home for school and couldn’t take the cat with me. At this point, she became her caretaker.
My mom loves Kiki, she says she’s the best cat she’s ever had and they spend every waking moment together. Here’s the problem: Kiki has been sick for a long time and my mom is in denial. She throws up multiple times a day, almost every single meal she eats. My mom says this is normal and “cats just puke a lot” but I now have a home with two cats of my own and they never throw up (unless it’s a hairball 1-2 times a month).
Because of this, Kiki is very very thin. She’s obviously severely underweight, which is worrying me. Her personality is still the same, and she always tries to eat her food, but she pukes it up nearly every time so I don’t think she’s actually absorbing any nutrients.
My mom took her to the vet about 3 months ago to have a majority of her teeth pulled (I assume from excess puking) and the nurse actually mentioned the low weight of Kiki to my mom, which she got super offended and defensive over and told her “she’s fine, she’s just a small cat”. When she was telling me the story of how taking her to the vet went she was very offended by the vet even implying she’s underweight. I’ve tried to tell her it’s bad also but she just won’t listen and gets super defensive.
I don’t necessarily think this will kill her soon because it’s been a problem for 3-4 years, but I do think this could lead to her dying prematurely because she doesn’t get enough nutrients to be healthy. I’m really worried about her but ultimately she’s not my cat anymore, and my mom has reminded me that when I show concern. I don’t think she would let me take her to the vet, so the best I could to is either try to convince her or get her some food I think would help. Any advice would be appreciated.

My whole life i have lied about things big and small but ive never had any intentions behind lying, such as to manipulate people or to get attention ect.. (this might be a long read but it’s all important info)
It started of as small things like in elementary school we were watching a video about professional bastekballers, i lied and said one of them was my cousin. I didn’t do it to get attention i just did and i don’t know why. (Obviously no one believed me)
One time in elementary, i was scratched by my dog and sent a picture of it to my friend saying “My dog scratched me” but in those quotes, implying that i SH. (It looked like if u scratch urself w ur fingernail) they obviously got very upset and our friendship ended,,not before me messaging her on PINTEREST apologising. I don’t know why i did that i just did it without any thoughts of “i shouldn’t send this” it was just impulsive/reflex. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then i started to lie more frequently e.g., if someone asked me a question like “ Have you ever done..{insert topic},or have u ever watched {insert topic}” i would respond w a lie. Those are just examples because i can’t remember every single lie i’ve told especially small ones. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As i’ve gotten older, i’m 19 now. I’ve lied about more extreme things.
I can’t remember much of my childhood, only “core” memories that randomly pop up in my mind; but i don’t have a concept of time w these memories,, idk how old i was when they happened. if i see a picture or if someone in my family mentions a story i can then remember it but only with the detail they provide.
For some background information, i have been verbally abused by my mother and she has suffered with depression and ‘manic??’ episodes my whole life.
When i was younger our relationship was very bad (still is) and we would get into yelling matches almost every day. These were me being yelled at for doing normal things a CHILD would do such as, sleeping in on accident, forgetting to bring something to school ect. And practically any chance she would get to have an argument with me.
She would scream things like “Your worthless, your useless , your a b*tch and ungrateful child, your fucked in the head” ect. She would say things along those lines to me almost every day for several years of my life. I couldn’t give you an age timeline as i can’t remember how old i was when it started happening.
I also have an older brother who’s always have a good relationship w my mum, she only treats me like this (i’m austisic and i’ve been told that’s why we “clash”) My mum was physically abused as a child and homeless around my age. She definitely hasn’t “healed” from it and still doesn’t know how to regulate her emotions and communicate effectively. My dad excuses her behaviour when i try to talk about how it has affected me by saying “it’s the depression, or the way her childhood was and she tries to be better!, she regrets what she says to me and loves me so much” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Now to probably the worst lie i’ve told. I need to tell some background info tho for it to make sense! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It all happened when i was on 🍃 and at a park with a group of people,, two of my close friends, let’s call them G & B, G’s boyfriend J. 4 guys friends w J including K who G worked with and i was “close with” for 6 months. i will try not to go into lots of detail bcoz if i did this post would be super long.
K was very manipulative towards me, well that is what my two friends G & B would tell me. I could provide screenshots of me and K’s conversations but i won’t, to protect privacy. Me and B hung out with K a few times to sesh and i would talk to K frequently on snap mostly about mental health related things.
He let me vent and explain how i felt and would give me advice as he was older, more experienced and struggled himself. I had a crush on him, he didn’t like me back but we stayed friends.
I discovered i didn’t actually like him and it was just Limerance. We had lots of arguments i can’t remember what about bcoz there was so many. One i remember was he dropped my friend B because she had BPD like him but “didn’t try to manage herself”; not related to that, i started to feel a sense of “hatred” towards B and the way they treated me as a friend in certain situations. I would complain abt them to K often and K would tell me to drop B. i did this while i was still best friends with B.
Me and B’ friendship almost ended because K told them to like get a grip and manage their BPD and treat me better. I liked to B and told them “i’ve never told K anything bad abt them only abt one situation which i’m over and i told u i told K. “ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Summary of it all i’m no longer friends w K and no one ik has been for a good 7-8 months. I will include some “quotes” they said to me in one our last convo (there was another situation after this but if i include it’ll be too long) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “I know that to you, you genuinely think all of the stuff you said was happening is, that's how mental illness works cos i was the same” ; “This is so funny that you think it's somehow my responsibility to control your emotions and attachments”
“You just expect me to cut u off and somehow manage ur attachment for you, you need to manage ur own attachments” ; “You usually accuse me of things unjustly but i've done that to ppl before when i was your age so i understood” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After some thought i realise that K might’ve been right about me and my friends were (partially) wrong abt him being manipulative and a bad person. Yes they’ve seen the texts and conversations and the quotes above.
It’s eating at me that i acted this way towards K because it’s embarrassing.
I have to end this story here because it’ll get to long even tho i want to include it all!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Back to the park. We were all talking abt life events that have happened to us and i told everyone there that i “had a huge secret ive never told anyone”.
“When i was a young child my dad told my mum to get bread out of the freezer to defrost and then make my sandwich for school. When my dad had left my mum complained and started yelling at me because I’m old enough to make my own goddam food. It got heated and she threw the loaf of bread at this glass cabinet i was next to, the glass shattered everywhere and cut my foot. i started to cry and scream, which made her angrier. She picked up a shard and tried to un*live me.” i won’t go into detail of the last bit of the lie i said.
Now this did actually happen apart form the very last bit. When i was telling this lie i didn’t have any intentions behind making it up. It just all came to me and out of my mouth as i was saying it,, kinda like i was read a book and just continuing to read.
I understand that this isn’t something to be lied about. I knew i was lying when i said it/after. I cannot tell people that it is a lie especially because i am still friends with G & B. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Last week i had a conversation with B about it as i mentioned i think i want to start going to therapy.
My reason for wanting to start therapy (this isn’t the only reason why i want to go and not the only time i’ve considered it) was that i got so annoyed by something my mum had done i was thinking everything would be better if she was just 💀. And how i went spiraling wondering if i was a psychopath for thinking/imagining me doing it.
My friend told me that im not a psychopath because i wouldn’t m*rder my mother cold blooded and have no remorse. And something along the lines of she hasn’t done anything to drive me to do that. I brought up the “Incident” (the lie) and B asked me to say what happened again because they forgot.
I told it in the same detail as i did to them before but i said “it’s kinda uncomfortable to type” they said it’s okay i don’t have to ( keep in mind my friend has experienced very traumatic things and wouldn’t get uncomfortable with hearing) and you saying that it’s uncomfortable proves ur not a psychopath.
It wasn’t uncomfortable for me to say, i felt awkward because i knew i was lying again. I know that no one “normal” lies about things like this.
I most of the lies i’ve told especially this one because i have to live with this now for the rest of my life. Telling my friends the truth is not an option, i don’t know how they would react and i would end up with no friends, isolated and excluded from society around me. Maybe that is what i deserve because I’ve lied abt something so horrible and intricately aswell.
I’ve also lied about being SA, i have never falsely accused anyone. I told the lie without saying the “person” who did it because i “didn’t know”. I regret doing this and if i could go back and somehow pause the part of my brain that wires me to lie i would.
I don’t think i’m a psychopath, i have empathy for others,,atleast i think it do?? I tell my friends and family that i love them and display affection towards people. I’ve been in multiple romantic situationships but never a proper relationship.
The idea of cuddling with a partner, talking to them every day and doing lovey dovey couples stuff makes me uncomfortable and i would be awkward doing so.
I’ve always had to question if i actually liked/loved someone as i know the definition of loving someone and how it’s shown but i don’t know if i feel it. I don’t know how to tell if i feel love or how to tell if i like someone romantically.
I do have autism which can be linked with a lack of empathy. Now that i think about it i can’t tell if I’m empathetic. My dad had skin cancer and had to have reconstruction surgery for it, i didn’t feel sad at the possibility of him dying or from seeing him in the hospital bed.
When we visited him my other family members were crying or very emotional. It’s not that i wished he had cancer and died i just didn’t feel any sort of emotion toward it.
My best-friends, i love them dearly? if either of them died i would definitely be sad, but I’m not sure if my “feeling sad” is the “normal” like if they passed away i would miss them giving me advice, conversations, moments and hangouts together and the fact we couldn’t make anymore memories.
I feel a deep connection with animals and love to be in their presence. although when i was very young after seeing my mum always kick, punch or push my pets for their “bad behaviour “ when my cat broke something in my room i attempted to str*ngle it. I regret that deeply and would never do that ever again. Ever. If i had to chose between never doing that and erasing my existence i would.
I guess what i’m asking is if anyone who has similar experience of lying without knowing why or if anyone has any advice on what i should do please help!
I understand a therapist would be good to tell this all too but i am afraid of the consequences/admitting i lied about horrible things. I know that im a horrible person for doing this, i dont think better of myself for lying.
i would do absolutely anything to go back and have never told a lie.
If anyone can help me i would really appreciate it and definitely implement strategies to become a better person and hopefully never lie again.
If anyone has an idea of whats “Wrong with me” please share, be harsh, be honest, be mean if you want to. If there is “something wrong with me” i will definitely try to get professional help when i can or is there a much harder way to resolve “myself” on my own.

Him and I only got closer around the end of march and through this I was constantly vigilant because more often than not when I make friends they get crushes on me. I came out to him and told him about how I was aroace and non binary a month into our friendship because by then we were pretty close. But I began to suspect that he had a crush on me.
Today at lunch a few of my friends (including him) and I were talking and someone said that if I did end up marrying someone I'd manipulate them into needing me (It was a joke that requires context) But I pointed out to her that based off of the only squish I've ever had I wouldn't be able to and casually brought up how I liked her unconditionally. When we talked about my being aromantic I had only briefly brought up that there was this girl I used to like but have on other occassions brought up greatly missing a friend who moved schools.
Anyway now I think he's sad and thinks I like this other person and I could bring up the fact that I only liked her platonically but I don't think there's a way for me to do that without telling him I think he has a crush on me and also breaking it to him that the closest I'll ever get to liking him the way he likes me is if I somehow develop a squish on him. I like being around him so much and don't want to lose him.
What do you think I should do?

I'm walking through a bustling underground train station. I push and shove my way through all the other commuters onto the platform. As I look around, there seems to be endless rows of platforms in both directions, stretching well into a dense fog. Further ahead, neat lines of railway tracks extend out from the fog and through the platforms. I instinctually look up at the info screen
Next train in ### minutes
I furrow my brow, squint to try and focus on the numbers but they're heavily pixelated and illegible. I look around at the other commuters, who stream onto the platform completely unaware of the anomaly. Most people are on their phone, or wearing headphones while some are talking to each other. No one seems to notice the malfunction with the screen.
That's when the absurdity of the situation clicks for me. Endless platforms, a wall of fog, unreadable numbers and people that don't care. It's all a dream. I bring my hand up to my face and pinch my nose, trying to breathe through it. An old reality check I remembered from back when I was trying to learn to lucid dream.
My heart rate jumped when I realised, that I couldn't breathe through my nose. Before I could even process this, another problem presented itself. I didn't know why I was here. I didn't know where I was going and I definitely did not know how I even got here. It seems as if reality ceased to exist right before I walked onto this platform. Just like it typically feels in a dream, you spawn in out of nowhere and don't really know what happened prior - except this wasn't a dream.
I knew I was sure of it because deep inside my bones I felt this anxious urgent message. I need to catch this train. It was a primal feeling.
At this point, my head is spinning and I need to sit down somewhere. I choose a silver bench with a middle aged woman sitting on it. She shuffles further to the left as I sit down next to her clutching my head and racking my brain to try and figure out what it is happening. This is what amnesia feels like, I thought to my self as I gnawed at scraps of messy muddled memories. Each image that came into my mind was just a fragment - A school, a library, sickeningly white walls. It hit me that I didn't even know my name. I was starting to hyperventilate but then my body kicked into autopilot. I started to take deep breaths, focusing on my diaphragm and calming myself down. It felt like I was trained to do this. I started to focus on the current situation.
Where was my ticket? Instinctually, I knew I had to have gotten one on my entry to the train station. I reached into my pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper. Scrawled in very familiar cursive:
*In case of memory loss, read the journal in your backpack*
Strange message but I didn't have any choice then to at least give the instructions a try. I removed my backpack and rummaged through it for the journal. I wouldn't really call it a backpack - more a tattered and frayed bundle of cloth that was reminiscent of a backpack. I finally found a series of small thick journals, bundled in cloth with their leather covers on the verge of disintegration. The pages still seemed in good condition though. Each cover was sequentially labelled which I'm guessing corresponded to the chronological order of the writings within.
The lady next to me was weirdly getting agitated. She kept stealing glances, her body shaking and eyes burning with a fierce rage. I slowly got up from the bench and began to step backwards. My backpack bumped into a pillar. The dull thud it made seemed to cause a drastic change to everyone around me though. They all snapped their heads, locking eyes on me and staring through my very soul. I felt exposed.
The rumble of an arriving train stole away their attention and within a split second everyone was ignoring me again, going back to their usual activities. It seriously felt like I had just imagined it and it was becoming more and more clear that I was having some sort of mental breakdown. Nevertheless, as the train slowed to a stop on the platform, I walked into it and found a seat. The train seemed to be old and new at the same time. Typical blue seats with abstract dirty patterns complete with a modern sleek interior of gentle curves clashing with a boxy dull metallic exterior and doors that looked like they belonged on a rusty submarine.
I opened the first of the journals and began to read. I soon realised that the handwriting was mine and within the next few moments I was attacked by a barrage of memories that had remained repressed and buried in the back of my mind.
*
My name is Jacob and I have been stuck here in this place called *The Limbo* for an eternity. When I say 'eternity', I don't mean it lightly. Back when I used to keep track I counted over 500 years through my wristwatch that never seemed to run out of battery. Now I know counting is meaningless. There have been periods like this where my mind falls into a deep trance and I lose my whole identity as I mindlessly wander in this place much like the entities that inhabit it. Occasional periods of lucidity breach this trance and then I find myself lost and confused. It's why I keep the journals with me. I think its some sort of psychological survival mechanism that human brains develop when faced with the infinite vastness of The Limbo.
Speaking of The Limbo, I've come to learn a few things about its nature through my stay here. Some of its been through people that I've come across (Yes others are also stuck here) and some has been through my own experiences. Perhaps the most important is the question of where I get my food and water. The answer is weird. I have never felt hungry or thirsty. The sensation of having cool water slide down my throat remains a memory so distant that it feels like the snippet of a childhood dream.
I guess the next natural topic about this place would be time. Through various experiences of mine (that you'll get to read about) and discussions with others, the leading theory of mine is that The Limbo exists outside of time itself. While I myself have fallen here sometime during 2001, I've met many others from various years like the 80s, 90s and even one recent fellow from 2043.
Most people in The Limbo eventually fall into a trance, withering away until they become one of the entities or become mere tools for them. It's probably naive but I keep going through this place with only two hopes. The first is to somehow get out of here at the right time point and see my son, who I never got to see. The second is to come out of this place and die so that I no longer have to live out the empty agony of eternity (I'll explain how you can't age or die in The Limbo later). Perhaps my hopes will dwindle as the centuries pile and I will become just like those who I look upon in pity now.
I am writing this consolidated diary of my experiences for several reasons. I'd like someone to know of my unending journey in this place. To be aware of the capacity of the human spirit to keep going in the worst of situations. I have never had a long term friend in The Limbo, but know that I consider you the reader a dear friend even if I never get to meet you because you will know my story. I'm also sharing this in hopes that there is more awareness of The Limbo. Perhaps the military and scientists can actually figure out what it is. Perhaps all of us can be brought home. Or maybe this can serve as a survival guide to those who may be unfortunate enough to fall through.
There are small holes in The Limbo. Most of them are barely large enough for a pinkie finger to fit in let alone a person, but sometimes I've come across one large enough for this journal to go through. I'm not sure what time or place these holes lead to, so the safe passage of this book into a person capable of reading it has about the same chances as me ever leaving this place.
The train I'm on supposedly leads to the edge of The Limbo, where the holes are large enough for humans to fit through. It's really more of a legend amongst the poor souls that are trapped here and I've followed trails and clues for a long time to even find this train.
There are only two ways this goes. Both outcomes would lead to you reading this book in your hands. I'll either find my way out of this hell or give up hope and slip this journal through a Hole. You will find my fate at the end.
I should stop rambling now though. It would be best to start at the very beginning.
*
I was rushing out of work in pure ecstasy. My wife had gone into labor while I was at work and been rushed to hospital. I needed to get there fast. People were glancing over at me over their cubicles in confusion as I packed up my work bag and rushed out to the elevators. I couldn't stop thinking about seeing my first son as the elevator made its way down. The elevator doors finally opened and I rushed out.
The ground entrance of the building I worked at, particularly near the lobby, is an intersection of various hallways. I was already walking to close to the wall when someone came rushing around the corner and bumped me right into the wall. I was only able to hear half their apology when I fell *through* the wall like it was just a holographic projection. In hindsight, I find it oddly funny how easy it is for a life to get ruined. Just when you think you've got it all, when everything is going smoothly, a small incident like that is enough to take it all away.
I found myself in a room that resembled a classroom. It looked as if someone who had never stepped inside a classroom was asked to imagine the space. Desks were arranged in messy uneven rows with the chairs facing various directions. The board at the front of the room was a seamless patchy mixture of both chalk and modern whiteboard and mounted way too low on the wall, nearly hugging the floor. A large teachers desk sat in the front of the room. The walls were filled with posters of absolute gibberish along with diagrams and pictures that seemed like they showed something tangible but no matter how close you looked you could never identify anything in the picture.
The initial confusion was replaced by an immense panic. My heart was drumming against my chest as I searched the room for a doorway to exit it. My mind was trying to rationalise the situation. I was trying to convince myself that this was just some old part of the building and I had fallen into a hallway instead of the wall.
I ran through the doorway at the far end of the room and found myself in a large hallway that seemed to extend forever in both directions. The walls were a muted grey and the floors were that typical dirty linoleum. Soon I would find out that the regularly spaced doorways on either side of the hall led to other nonsensical classrooms.
I ran down the hallway screaming for help in pure panic, which was a terrible mistake in hindsight. I stopped running down the hallway when I suddenly heard the distinct scratch of chalk against board. In this large empty space, the sound echoed and boomed. Since I was still refusing to buy in to the reality of the situation, my hopes were momentarily increased by the supposed presence of another person here.
I slowly walked over to the doorway that the sounds were coming from. My stomach filled with an uneasy dread. This deep primal instinct within me urged me to hold back. I peeked carefully in the classroom and saw a woman with their back turned to me drawing something on the chalkboard.
It took me a few moments to notice that it was a very realistic portrait of my face.
She was drawing lines across my throat, her long dark hair swaying as she drew in the details. The drawing was completed with a terrible slash across the throat, blood gurgling out. I was frozen in place, transfixed on the hauntingly beautiful realism of the picture.
She began to turn around slowly while humming a high pitched tune. To this day I can't describe the face I saw. It is still etched into my mind. A face full of so much hatred, so much anger that I don't think its possible for a human to make that face. It expressed an emotion beyond human understanding. No artist in the world could ever render the expression on the paper. No words could describe the pure fear that coursed through my veins as she stared at me and began to approach.
I turned around to run, only to realise that a bunch of school children had gathered around me. They were headless, the bleeding stumps dripping thick blood onto the floor in a rhythmic patter. Somehow they were laughing.
I shoved through the group and ran down the hallway. I wasn't sure where I was going. My whole world had shattered and now I was completely aimless in some nonsense dimension with horrors beyond imagination that wanted me dead.
*
The extract above is from this journal I found at the foot of a large tree on a hiking trail. It's a miracle that I spotted its faded leather cover given that it was almost buried under rotting leaves. I really don't know what to make of what I'm reading, so I'll be slowly transcribing bits of it in separate posts over the next few days.
I know this subreddit is good for this sort of stuff. I'd love if someone else could share anything they know about The Limbo. This whole journal feels like some sort of prank, but the words and memories within feel way too real.
I can't help but feel a connection to this story. My mum doesn't speak much of my Dad, who I know left before I was born. No one ever found out where he went.
I was born in 2001
X

I know there is no true way to fix or balance a class to make everyone happy, but I just want to share where I think the direction of Mage should go, and share what I don't like about the current direction of Mage.
Firstly, a lot of the core mage cards need revamps. As an example, Arcane Intellect at 3 mana hurts to play. While I don't think it would break the game to have it be 2 mana, I know that would also cause issues. My solution would be to add a dredge-like option to the end of it. Sightless watcher style. 3 mana, draw 2, discover a card in your deck to place on top. Just a little extra bonus. Other examples are Shooting Star, fireball, flamestrike, and so on.
Secrets as a concept should really be re-thought. The issue is that secrets always feel bad for one player. Either the mage is very aggro/tempo and plays a secret in the early game and the opponent cries because they don't know if the board clear is going to be counterspelled, or both players are at 10 mana and the mage plays a secret and then cries when the opponent diffuses the secret easily and safely. I am not going to propose a complete fix because that gets too theoretical for what I am trying to say. However, I would like to suggest that a card I would like to see either as a secret or in the same design space as secrets; "3 mana: Freeze the next 3 minions the opponent plays".
Less "Sif-style" gameplay, more "Aegwynn" style gameplay. Taking Aegwynn out of core really upset me. I may be biased because I made the Nathria Aggro mage deck that really used Aegwynn for one of the first times. My point though is that Sif supports a boring playstyle that I call the "shopping list" playstyle. You put Sif in the deck along with its specific supporting cards that power it up to make it playable. That's not really that fun. Alternatively, Aegwynn did not receive much support but gave the support instead. You did not need to run "these specific cards" to make Aegwynn work. Yes, low cost minions are preferred, but its your choice on which 1 or 2 cost minions to actually put in your deck. If you want to complete the Sif Shopping List, you better play one of the two shadow spells in Mage.
I want to talk a bit about No Minion Mage for a minute. I think that it *sounds* cool, but once you think about it in concept, it breaks down quickly. Firstly, the "No Minion" restriction is a very strict condition, more-so than I think people realize. Not only can you not play any neutral cards (yes there are like two exceptions, but that's irrelevant), which cuts your deck selection by a ton, you also cannot play any mage minions, which further restricts the card pool. Looking at standard right now, the deck building condition brings your card selection from 319 cards to 43 cards. Of course its not quite as bad as it sounds because of the card quality of many of the neutral cards (Ancient Totem was not going to make the cut in your deck anyway probably. Stereo Totem might though!). The rewards are not nearly equal to the restriction. Summon two 3 drops? Have a better chance to randomly cast Wheel of Death? I don't think it makes sense. Compared to Pure Paladin, which could still play all of its class cards, the Pure Paladin rewards are often better, especially because they were often tied to minions. Which might I add, are fun to play. Another flaw of No Minion Mage is that most people like playing minions. So not playing minions is not that fun. As for how to fix it, I think Low Minion Mage would make more sense. Summoning minions with spells can also be fun.
Next I want to talk about the direction I would like mage minions to go. I think more minions that cast spells is a good thing. I plan to try out the new miniset card more, but I am talking more like School Teacher in general. I also truly believe in smaller spell damage amounts given to more mage minions, rather than large spell damage amounts given to one or two minions. To go along with that, I think that spell damage should effect more spells in fun ways. Having it be more like "Spell Power+1" would make more sense. That's probably a pipe dream, but it could make lots of cards more interesting. I also think that there should be some elementals that count as "spells" for the purposes of certain cards, that would be interesting.
I have other ideas but those are just concepts that are irrelevant to what I am trying to say. This was a very long write-up, but that is because I actually enjoy the flavor of the mage class and would like it to be good again without making everyone want to tear out their hair when playing against it (like when Sif is good).
To summarize; update old spells, re-think secrets, no minion mage is a poor concept, more minions that make spells better and spells that can get better from playing minions. Thank you for coming to my ted-talk, feel free to flame in comments.

After reading some hefty fantasy books I was looking for something accesible. I already knew Red Rising had similarities to the hunger games so I decided to start reading it.
So far, I'm loving it. It's so mind numbingly simple, I can completely shut off my brain when reading it. Like the system in place. Everyone is ranked by their color. Gold is at the top ofcourse, they are beautiful, strong etc. Then you have silver and then bronze. Seriously, it reads like a parody. Then you have the normal colors at the bottom. Luckily it's easy to spot who's what, because people actually look like their color. Red people all have red hair for instance. Like how easy and in your face can you make a governing power system? Literally ranking everyone by colors, making gold the top color, and actually making them have that color as appearance.
The book is also so incredibly black and white. Like in the first chapters where the golden prime ministers of mars hangs the main protagonists wife for doing a dance. After already whipping the main protagonists for going through a forbidden hallway or something. I guess they're the bad guys!
And now somehow he managed to write the biggest Y/A cliché in this book. Going to some academy. So now this big resistance hero to be is an undercover golden who's basically in the golden high school academy for becoming a big shot among the golden. It's so fucking cheesy. Like when starting the book I didn't think there was any way to write this in, but somehow he forced this academy stuff in. It's so wildly out of place. Like "Hey for some reason we want you and only you to be our chose resistance hero. You're red, but through a series of modifications we can make you Golden. Our plan is to then send you to golden high school, become the number #1 in everything, rise trough the ranks untill you have an entire fleet under your command and then help us with the resistance. Wtf, just let him do actual stuff now? Like it's so fucking stupid, but I don't care. It's fun. I genuinely don't see how people can describe this book as anything more than a guilty pleasure.
And then the characters. There's like 6 of them and they all keep running into eachother. They are all cardboard cutouts of actual persons. Like this one guys name is Titan and his personality is that he's really big and strong. He's literally named after his personality. You don't actually have to remember anyone personality, just look at their names. It's so mindblowingly simple.
Everything about me screams 'hate this book, it's so cheesy and simple and cliché'. But you know what. I love it. I understand that's it's probably written for 14 year olds, so I'm well out of the target audience. But I'm having a blast just shutting off my brain and enjoying the ride.
After typing this all out I don't even know what the make of my post. But I had to get these thoughts out of my head.
^{Too bad the Dutch translated version is terrible. So many grammar and spelling errors, or just complete sentences not making sense, words missing or printed double. It's like they Google translated it and didn't check it before print.}

Exactly one year ago I was laid off from my dream job. Here’s what I’ve learned since then.
💡Resilience > Stability Stability is comfortable. But resilience is empowering.
Losing my dream job taught me that the ability to bounce back from setbacks is far more valuable than relying on the illusion of a stable path forward.
💡Balance doesn’t exist. But priorities do. Striving for balance is like chasing a mirage in the desert. An enticing vision, for sure - but permanently out of reach.
In dealing with the ramifications of my layoff, getting engaged, starting an AI startup, and a hell of a lot more in the last year - I realized that the best way to find “balance” is to ignore it altogether.
Instead, understand your priorities and then follow through on them. You’ll likely be surprised by how much fluff can be cut out. Less fluff = less distractions = more time doing what’s important to you = “balance”
💡The world owes you nothing I thought because I had gone to school, worked my butt off, and followed the “path I was supposed to follow” that I was entitled to a decent paying job with good benefits.
That belief was more limiting than I thought - and actually kept me from advocating for myself because it lulled me into a false sense of a set-by-step career trajectory.
What remnants of that reality that still exist are about to be wiped out thanks to AI (and people who integrate it into the way they live and work).
Stop thinking the world owes you something and start thinking about what you can bring to it.
💡Your job is not your identity I’ll admit, telling people I worked for a company that launched satellites into space using a rocket strapped to the wing of a 747 was pretty badass.
I relished in my ability to talk about it at cocktail parties, conferences, and even holidays with the family. So when it was ripped away from me, I found myself feeling hollow and empty.
My job was like the scaffolding on an old building - helped build it up externally, but did very little to strengthen the foundation it was built upon.
Having a healthy separation between who you are and what you do is key for performance in both areas of your life. (Yes, even in roles like being a founder where you live and breathe your work).
💡You don’t need a map. You need a Compass. Step-by-step plans are beautiful on paper and almost always fall apart in the real world. Plus, life just doesn’t work that way. The universe has too strong a preference for entropy and chaos.
However, the pain you’re feeling - the longing for a plan, a path forward, a sense that you’re headed in the right direction - is valid and real.
The world is more confusing and chaotic than ever. It’s increasingly important to have a deep understanding of your personal mission, a clear definition of your ambitions, and a system that you can rely on to translate those into a fulfilling reality.
Find someone or something that you can use as a general guide to keep yourself in the right direction - not a prescriptive step-by-step plan.
💡Look, losing a job (especially in this market) is tough. It’s absolutely awful out there right now.
But you’ve got this. Keep your head down, keep your chin up, and focus on the better things that come next.

[prev]
As it stood, my crazy plan certainly seemed to resonate with the gathered leaders, though they did offer their own suggestions as to how best to implement improvements and contingencies. I of course welcomed each and every one of them, then debated their merits and as the hours flew by we weeded out the ideas that simply would not work and expanded on those that would.
It was quite honestly refreshing to not have to do all the thinking for once, it felt nice to do a little outsourcing as one might describe it. Besides, as many would say I only had one point of view, well, two if we’re being literal, that of a human and an arachne, the former coming from a world without magic and monstrous beings like those I had surrounded myself with.
Their unique viewpoints had offered a wealth of possibilities and were in their own ways invaluable to the war effort. I am glad that they all managed to get along as well. I had seen no hint of animosity or long held grudges between any of them, not even the age old and quite frankly stereotypical hostility between the elves and dwarves had reared its head. In fact, the two races had seemingly fed into each other's ideas with excited glee, and I had almost expected there to be a bout of mad cackling near the end of their ramblings.
Of course now the meeting was over and we were all starting our preparations. The basic prep wouldn’t take that long, ensuring our warriors were all well supplied, their weapons and armor at peak quality before the battle was paramount. It was everything else about the plan that would take time, time we must ensure we had if we were to succeed. And so I headed for the Aberrant Spire, a place I had not been in a long time.
As I followed the streets I was reminded of my first delve into this city, back when it was fully under the control of vile abominations. I paused, looking at a short building on my right, large claw marks scoring the wall near the lip of the roof. I remember one of those beasts had attempted to climb up to get me as I traversed the rooftops.
Remembering that I felt a shiver run down my spine and issued a silent word of thanks that such horrors no longer existed in my new home, that vibrant life had returned to these hallowed streets. It was a place of hope now, not terror.
It was with this remembering of certain facts that I began looking for a faster means of travel to reach the Spire, as walking would be a long and arduous task indeed. Thankfully this was something that was already thought of, for as I meandered through the streets in my search I came across a somewhat raised walkway, except this walkway had a pair of lines worked from crystal or metal, I couldn’t rightly tell which, running through it.
I paused, wondering how I had never seen this thing before and in doing so I bore witness to its purpose. A merchant with a large wagon approached a circular pattern on the walkway, ensured his wares were well secured and then spoke a destination. At once a ball of energy surrounded him and the wagon, raising it all off the ground and then sending him zipping along, following the right hand line. Even as I watched, another traveler came from the opposite direction, the magic wrought into the pathway depositing them gently off to one side and they continued on their merry way.
I had to wonder why thing wasn’t around the first time I had come here, though the more I looked at the construction the stone looked somewhat fresh, perhaps it was simply a new addition and not something from the city’s past. Either way, it looked mighty useful so I stepped into the circle and took a deep breath.
“The Aberrant Spire.” I spoke clearly, and felt myself go weightless. The magic ball of energy formed around me, lifting me off solid ground and leaving me floating, which certainly triggered a slight fear response from my arachnid instincts. I was moved into position and then shot forward. It took all I had to not scream, sudden fear turning into excitement as my human experiences harkened back to several amusement park visits as a kid and getting to ride the roller coasters.
Though instead of loop the loops and corkscrews it was naught but straight lines and gentle curves that weaved through and over the city streets. Everything was a blur and yet I hardly felt it, really all that I felt was a vague sense of motion in my gut and the wind pulling at my hair, but that was it. I did see the spire come into view however, and steadily it grew larger and larger till at last it dominated the skyline.
My breakneck pace started to slow and just as it had with the other traveler, the magic gently shifted me to one side and then put me down softly. I found my legs were incredibly wobbly and as such I simply stood there and waited for the wobbling to cease. Once it had I stepped off the platform and down onto the street proper, finally taking in the sights as it were.
If the areas around the palace and the rest of the city were for merchants, common folk and nobility, then this area was almost exclusively inhabited by those with magical talents. I saw robed figures flitting to and fro, some hovering along on disks of light or wind, one even walked into a shadowy patch and vanished, presumably reappearing elsewhere. And over it all loomed the Spire, still as pretty and strange as it had been, though it seemed to glow with newfound life and vigor.
The teleporter complex seemed in working order as well, though it would have to be since new mages had taken up residence in the spire above. I made for the complex, many mages who had been engrossed in walking and thinking doing double takes as I passed. I simply nodded at each in turn and continued on my merry way, entering the complex and getting bombarded by the sounds of a busy building. Pages and mages zipped about, conducting their various tasks as they did, stepping into or out of the teleporters as needed. It felt almost like that one time I’d visited Grand Central, boy hadn’t that been fun.
I decided that I should probably get some directions to the person that would be most suited to help me with my plan, really whomever happened to be in charge of this place would be perfect for that and so I stepped up to a circular desk that seemed to be staffed by a mixture of elves, dwarves, humans and even a slime person, the latter wobbling in place and simply shifting their features about to face anyone that spoke to them.
I stopped before an elf, the woman looking up and recognition dawning on her face as she beheld me.
“Y-Your majesty! What brings you all the way out here?” She stammered even as she made to stand and bow. I waved her back down into her seat with a smile, the elf sinking back down into her seat.
“I have business with whomever is in charge of the Spire and I have found that I have no idea who that happens to be. I was hoping to change that, and get directions as well.”
The woman nodded, still a bit frazzled thanks to an unannounced visit by royalty.
“I-I can do that, a moment please your majesty.” She said, hunching over a large book that sat before her and furiously flipping through it. Once she found what she needed, she opened a drawer and pulled out what looked like some sort of talisman, setting it down before me on the desk. “Firstly, this will identify you as not only an authorized visitor to the spire, but also as royalty. Granted we all know you are but the spire itself wouldn’t and so would treat you as an intruder if you didn’t carry this with you at all times. And considering your authority over us all, it will allow you to access areas that would be otherwise restricted to normal visitors.”
As she explained its function I picked the talisman up and looked it over. It was a simple thing, not too gaudy though I couldn’t help but notice a coat of arms upon it that had a distinctly arachne flavor to it. I could swear I’d seen it before somewhere else, perhaps that would have to be something else I looked into later.
“I can call an escort for you, they can guide you right to the Archmage.” The receptionist spoke, snapping me from my thoughts as I affixed the talisman to my breast.
“That won’t be necessary, a map will suffice. I am an adventurer first and a queen second after all.” Chuckling, I watched her nod and pull a sheet of parchment towards her, a hand hovering over the surface and magic flowing from her palm onto the page. What looked like ink appeared on it, which then took the shape of the current room I resided in. Words even appeared, informing me that I could use any of the teleporters I wished.
“The man you are looking for is Archmage Yesric. As far as I know he doesn’t have any pressing duties today so you should find him sequestered in his office.” The receptionist rose and bowed again, keeping her hunched over pose even as I started to walk away.
“Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.” I said. I took a subtle look over my shoulder and was relieved to see that she’d sat back down and was currently in the midst of furious conversation with her coworkers. Which was fair, not every day a member of royalty comes asking for help right?
Stepping into the teleporter I was promptly deposited into the halls of the Spire, which now bustled with activity. Mostly staff it seemed, though I spotted several gaggles of younger folk all dressed in something reminiscent of school uniforms rushing through the halls, their expressions belying a desperate desire to reach their destination as quickly as possible. I had heard nothing about the spire being used as some sort of school, though I suppose it only made sense to train the next generation of magic users in a place where magic was dominant.
Looking down at the map I’d been provided, I was pleased to see that my current position was reflected upon its surface. But now there was a handy dandy guiding line that pointed down a hallway to my right. And so without further ado, I followed it. People naturally got out of my way, though whether that was because I took up most of the hall or because they knew who I was I wasn’t sure, either way I did my best to not impede their progress too much.
Turning a corner I was suddenly met with an empty hallway, one that slowly began to fill with black smoke. My gut twisted and my head felt heavy, my eyes began to flutter and then I blinked, the hallway was bustling with people, no longer filled with the smoke. I licked my lips, trying to shake the ghosts of the past and move forward, though my legs couldn’t help but shiver slightly with every step I took.
Floor by floor I made my way closer to my target, till eventually I was directed through a door into what looked like every executive's office that I’d ever seen, just with a fantasy twist to it. Or rather, it was the little office for a secretary that I entered, which presumably meant that through the next door was what I was looking for.
A bespectacled goblin lass looked up from a large tome and blinked at me, her eyes rather enlarged thanks to the lenses that sat before them.
“Can I help you?” She drawled tiredly, and I stepped up to a good distance from her desk.
“Yes, I’m here to speak with the Archmage.”
“I do not recall setting any meetings today. May I ask who wishes for this audience?” She said, flipping through another much smaller tome that sat nearby.
“Safa Eventra.”
She continued to look through this smaller book, before freezing, her head slowly turning towards me. Now she really seemed to be looking at me and I could only smile politely back at her.
“A-Apologies your majesty, a moment if you please, I must inform the Archmage of your presence.” She said, hopping down off her chair and scampering hurriedly towards the other door. I didn’t say anything, instead just engaging in the arachne equivalent of rocking back and forth on my heels. She slipped through the door and I could hear muffled speech before several loud thuds and some not so muffled cursing ensued. The goblin secretary appeared, leaning against the door after closing it.
“The archmage will see you in just a moment, your majesty.” She said, resuming her post and doing her best to look professional for me.
“That’s quite alright, I’m in no rush.” I responded, humming softly to myself as I looked around the room. A moment later, I heard a voice call out from the office and since that was my cue, I bowed my head to the secretary and stepped through the door into the archmage's office.
[prev]

Hello Apes.
Back with another review of all the tweets sent from memelord and cat inspiration, Roaring Kitty.
If you missed my first review for 13th May, you can find it here.
To reiterate, the description of each tweet is to the best of my knowledge the references made and the speculation is pure speculation on my part, this is just for fun and shouldn't be taken as any financial advice, make your own decisions, I just like the stock. If you have anything to add feel free to in the comments and I'll do my best to update the post.
11am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790396654971224430
Description: The infamous scene from the movie Troy where Achilles rather reluctantly at first, comes forward to fight the mighty Boagrius. Achilles runs at him, defending against a few spear throws then with one epic jump and slide, stabs Boagrius with this blade killing him in one clean strike. The music dubbed on this clip is Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm of the War Drums by A Perfect Circle.
Speculation: Chosen warrior blessed by the gods comes forward in front of the masses and takes out the big baddie. You could make the speculation that the song could reference something to do with DRS (A Perfect Circle) and SHFs bleeding out (counting bodies like sheep).
11.30am - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790404203715887238
Description: First of all we have a cat talking to itself in the mirror stating the words, "Don't be the bigger person today, be the person that helps them understand that sometimes when you f**k around, we find out...". We then cut to arrested development where Buster who is portrayed as a bear has something to say, "i wanna shoot down everything you say, so i feel good about myself. cause i'm an uptight [insert copious amounts of swearing].
Speculation: First part DFV knows they (Shorts) have messed around again and have been doing it dirty. The gig is up again, time to close and pay up. The second part is a funny scene from arrested development where Buster, a character who just cannot fit in properly goes AWAL to try and show he has a nasty side, it just comes across as way too far. DFV just poking fun at bears here no doubt.
12:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790411757120561628
Description: First we have a scene from The Town where Doug says to James, "I need your help. I can't tell you what it is, you can never ask me about it later, and we're gonna hurt some people." and James replies, "Who's car are we going to take?" Then it cuts to Mad Max where there are a load of sand buggy cars going nuts with flame throwers and all sorts of chaos with the song Du Hast by Rammstein playing in the background.
Speculation: I haven't seen the Town but from reading online this scene showed the amazing friendship between Doug and James when James simply replies, who's car are we going to take? in response to what sounds like a risky ask for help from Doug. Then with Mad Max: Fury Road we have a film about a post apocalyptic survivor in Max Rockatansky who eventually brings down a warlords Citadel (hmmm).
12:30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790419301976903884
Description: First we have the whistling of Omar from The Wire, then we have a scene from the Kingsmen where they are locked in a pub with Galahad and the quote "Manners maketh man" and finally we have a scene from Oldboy with a big fight scene cut alongside some anime which is from demon slayer
Speculation: The whistling is synonymous with Omar and is to the tune of a nursery rhyme, "the farmer in the dell", anyone that watched The Wire would know instantly that this means Omar is coming and this means you best get out the way as he is coming with his double-barreled shotgun and he certainly won't hesitate to use it. The Kingsmen scene where they are locked in the pub is a particularly violent scene and it's an interesting film to reference, the plot *Film spoiler here* is essentially about a boy named Eggsy from a lower-class neighbourhood who's father dies and he finds out that his father was part of an elite inner circle of upper class. After trying to be part of this group, Eggsy discovers their secret plot to take over the world and takes it into his own hands to save the day. u/ ThePhenomNoku talks about the last 2 referenced films; "So the anime is demon slayer. It’s about a kid who has everything taken from him and trains to learn how to fight demons. Though as a sidenote he kind of carries one around with him. It’s complicated.The other movie with the guy holding the person, & the fight scene is the original Oldboy, and without giving too much of the plot away it’s about a dude who is falsely imprisoned for a couple of years or so, and then enacts his revenge."
1:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790426851409817615
Description: Firstly we have the scene from Oceans 11 where Danny Ocean is chatting to Rusty Ryan right in the initial stage of their plan to heist the casino. He talks about how it's never been done before, will need planning and a large crew and Ryan asks if they are going to use guns, he replies "not exactly, there's lots of security" and finally Ryan asks "what's the target?". We then cut to a film i'm not aware (anyone help here?) of where an older gentleman shows a calculator to a young woman and the calculator says "Just up" on it then the woman says "yes that looks correct"
Speculation: In Oceans 11 there was a lot of planning and variables that had to happen for everything to work. It was a high risk high reward plan with a lot set up to go against but it's possible. The target has always been "just up", DFV just reiterating what he said in the first place.
1:30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790434400494116873
Description: First we have a scene from Old School where he states, "A loophole?" "Yes. Well, it's interesting, sir. As stupid as they appear, they're actually very good at paperwork. It's quite an anomaly." then it cuts to a scene from the same film with the C&C factory everybody dance now song and a cheerleading dance attempt
Speculation: Of course with the loophole stuff it could be about all of the DD that has been done on what has gone on over the years but it could equally be about SHFs finding loopholes to get out of the mess they are in with the stock. The second part the judges clearly don't feel the attempt of the cheerleading or gymnastics piece they are portraying is any good but they are giving it a go and it's suppose to a comedy. Note the school is the cougars, cat links again of course.
2:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790441953659687421
Description: The first part is taken from The Batman and has Batman's monologue running and when the Batman signal is fired into the sky, a kitty shadow is shown instead of the Batman logo. It ends with an emphasis on "Fear is a Tool".
Speculation: Batman was of course a good hero who would rid the streets of criminals, they would scare just at the sight of the batman signal being fired knowing that they were about to get wrecked. In this clip, two years has been replaced with three years in the monologue and the kitty signal is of course a nice touch.
2:30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790449499506192405
Description: This clip is taken from Mr Robot and is where Elliot plays eXit, a text based computer game that requires him to answer a series of questions in a text based game.
Speculation: I think it's best just to give the description of what happens in this scene taken from the fandom page. Elliot chooses to sit down with the friend in the dungeon. He lights a match and reads the note "Don't leave me here." Elliot chooses to stay. The alarm shuts off. An explosion happens nearby. Robot opens the door to find a fire raging outside. He concludes it's too late. Both of them sit down. They each say "I love you." Explosions rage around the room. "It's an exciting time in the world," Elliot says. Fade to red. Take from that what you will.
3:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790457051115847720
Description: This scene is taken from the movie Scream (2022), a direct sequel to Scream 4. A lot of the text has been changed but to summarize, one person states "he is making a requel" then there is some talk about the squeeze movie that came out last year and how most people in the actual know hated it and how "squeeze mid" pissed on their "covidhood", how the main character is a mary sue? Then a few cuts of Scream and how real squeeze movies have meta slasher whodunnits and that to some people the original is their favorite thing in the world
Speculation: A requel is A movie which revisits the subject matter of an earlier film but is not a remake or a linear continuation of its plot (i.e. a sequel or prequel). So essentially what is happening right now with the stock is not exactly the same of what has happened before but it is essentially a revisit of the same subject regarding squeezes. A mid squeeze implies that it wasn't as high as the squeeze could have gone and the theme of slashers and murdered people really suggests heads will roll (SHFs hopefully).
3:30pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790464599575167004
Description: This is a scene from Candyman where he has come for the woman. There is some cat flashes and images going on and the Woman in this is tagged as a bear (that is someone who is down on a stock or market, usually would short). Candyman talks about how there is no need for the bear to leave yet and that he was obliged to come then he says "be my victim" and a bumble bee comes out of the word be.
Speculation: Time is running out for the bear, they can hang around for a while longer but they will be the victim. This is more of the DFV is coming for you as he dresses himself up as a rampaging murderer targeting the bear in this case. Not sure on the bee, whether that is DFV just having some fun or if it's that a sting is coming in some sense.
4:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790472153470759217
Description: Taken from No Country for Old Men, Carson states he is a day trader and that Anton doesn't have to do this (Anton is going to kill him) tell him he could just go home. Carson continues that Anton could have 14 grand out of an ATM and just walk away before finally stating "do you have any idea how crazy you are?". Anton replies, "you mean the nature of these memes?" to which Carson says "I mean the nature of you!" The scene ends with the phone ringing.
Speculation: DFV putting himself into the mode of Anton from No Country for Old Men is quite the statement. For those who haven't seen this movie, Anton is a wrecking ball of a killer and adheres by his rulebook to seek out different people through the movie to take out. Carson being the desperate short seller here who is not understanding why DFV isn't just playing by the usual financial rules and taking his gains and going. The phone ringing at end could be an implication of margin calls ringing for the desperate short seller.
8:00pm - https://x.com/TheRoaringKitty/status/1790532552828289526
Description: This is taken from Braveheart and the prisoner (William Wallace) is asked to say a word in a famous scene where WW shouts "FREEEEDOM" only in this clip its "GAMESTOOOOOOOP".
Speculation: This is the first direct reference to Gamestop word for word and it should be noted that this is the scene where William Wallace is about to be executed. Could mean that DFV is willing to risk it all for Gamestop like William Wallace martyring himself for the freedom of Scotland.
Hope you enjoyed.
Love ya DFV

i keep hitting rock bottom. i didn’t do as well as i had hoped for wa2. i know that i last minute studied as always but during the entire wa week i slept after 1am on most days studying. and i failed amath again (17/40) despite amath being the only subject that i was actively working on improving (like i asked so many questions to my amath teacher, got tutored by a friend, my parents got me amath tuition…) and i hoped that my amath would at the very least be a B4 or C5 considering how much i’d tried to work on it.
admittedly i neglected integration and got most of the differentiation questions correct but it scared me that i still made so many careless mistakes that lost me precious marks, and i had also revised integration for like 1.5H on the night of the paper (and i had sjbo and social studies on the same day and slept at 3.45am studying) so i was crazy devastated when i got back my paper. i legit had a breakdown in class and my friend had to sit beside me to comfort me and i felt so rabak the entire day lmfao. and it was the second time crying cause i was crying over another subject last week 💀💀
then i got back physics yesterday. F9. i was kinda bummed mostly because everyone else in my class also said they didn’t study but they all passed (i think i got lowest in class for physics). while i didn’t learn the content at all and legit got the si units wrong it still bummed me out because it feels like everyone is just naturally smarter than i am because they didn’t study and still did well, while when i didn’t study i still failed. and damn badly at that. admittedly my calculations were all correct just the si units were wrong, and my explanations were also all wrong 💀💀
and then i was sick so i didn’t go to school and my friend ended up taking emath for me. she didn’t wanna tell me how much i got but i bugged her because i had accepted my fate alr (during the exam i spent wayy too much time on the first question and was left to rush through ~30 marks worth of questions in ~20 minutes) but i thought i was gonna get C6 at the worst. well no,,, F9. and well she told me to not cry and i promised her that but i did end up crying on call (just didn’t tell her that so she didn’t know that) while chatting with her. emath topics were matrices, probability and statistics. i was shaky with matrices (indication of my ass foundation ig cause everyone ik says it’s damn easy) and i spent 2 hours the night before working my misconceptions and doing practise questions until i got them all correct but for some reason on the day of the paper itself i just. didn’t perform. and the thing is that for wa1 i got an A1. and A1 to F9… what the fuck.
all my friends around me are good at math. i am fucking terrified to touch math because i can’t ’eat the frog’— i tell myself to tackle the hard things but the moment i get stuck on a math question or get lost after following a math lesson it’s like my brain shuts down. it goes, “fuck i can’t do this anymore” and i’m forced to watch myself become more and more of a failure because younger me couldn’t tackle the hard things and work on her maths.
i’ve been trying to move forward only and stop dwelling on the past, but it’s really hard to when you can’t help but want to fuck your younger self up and humble her and knock sense into her so that she actually took her acads seriously. my parents always had high expectations of me and i responded to them by self-sabotaging— i remember they installed a cctv in my room bc i refused to study, and i had several physical fights with my mother; i vaguely remember being dragged across the floor by my hair and her stopping the car and asking me to get out and me also fighting back at her, and my dad calling me hopeless and weak willed and at the time thinking why they were doing this to me.
but well i honestly miss those times. i wish that when my parents installed that cctv in my room that i woke up. i wish that when my dad threatened to call the police on me i woke up. i wish that when my dad called me weak-willed and kicked me out of the dining room when i was stuck on a math question in primary school and couldn’t answer his prompting questions because i was sleepy and expected him to just point-blank give me the answer i woke up and realised that my own behaviour was leading to my downfall. i wish that i didn’t get sick at the start of last year and missed out on valuable lessons to build a proper foundation in my subjects. i wish i was studying rn instead of having yet another breakdown for the nth time this year and ranting to reddit again. some neverending fucking cycle my entire profile’s pathetic
i wish i paid attention in class and didn’t have just a holier-than-thou, inflated ego. i wish i didn’t have this kind of awakening this late, months to my o’levels, with my grades basically confirming that dsa is hopeless for me. because of my fuckery, i didn’t study for sjbo and i don’t think i can get anything. because of my incompetence and my cold i haven’t started studying for sjcho. because of my stupidity i fucked up my entire educational career. honestly right dying rn and reincarnating as someone who can make her parents and herself proud would be perfect. i wish i wasn’t so scared of dying too 😂

I (19M) grew up in a big family (I was the second oldest of seven). I had an identical twin brother who died when I was young. The rest of my family passed in a house fire a few weeks later whilst I was on a school trip, and I was left in care of my godfather.
My dad was known in our community as a great person. He'd make sure his kids (us seven) followed in his footsteps and succeeded in everything we did. My brothers were good at sports, my sisters too. They were all academically successful too. I was as well, more academically than sport related. I just excelled in different things than my siblings (I played baseball rather than football and basketball, and I was great at science and theory but everyone else was good at English and maths). It was like I was always the odd one out. There was never really any sort of disagreement and argument between us at all and we were all treated fairly equally.
That was about thirteen years ago when they passed. I was recently contacted by the university that my dad used to guest lecture at in his free time. They had an old interview in 2011 (a week or so before he passed) of my dad which he opted to participate in as some students needed it for their assignment.
I watched the video, thinking it was going to be heartwarming and such. But it was the complete opposite. During the video, he was asked if he was proud of his children's achievements. He said he was, but in terms of me, he wasn't. He was disappointed and expected so much more. He said that I should do more than what I 'enjoyed' because it wasn't good enough and it gave him a bad name. He also said that he wished it was Billy (my twin brother) who survived that day not me because he would have been so much more successful. During the interview time, I would have been six.
I just don't really know how to feel or how I'm supposed to feel. When I was younger, I knew I wasn't the same as my siblings but that didn't mean I was failing at anything. In the things I did do, I'd argue I was fairly successful. But hearing that from your own father, about you when you were merely six years old hurts a lot more than ever expected.
I just don't understand how I'm supposed to get past this. I guess it's even harder now that I can't even have a conversation with him as he's no longer around. What can I do to ease the pain I'm feeling from his words? Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

This is what I posted on the board game community in Korea, and I'm also translating and posting it on Reddit!
The translation and text inspection took a long time, but I'm posting it because I think croquinol gamers from other countries will enjoy reading it.
(I don't know how to put pictures in between when writing on Reddit. If you're curious about pictures while reading, please visit the link below. You may not understand Korean, but pictures are visual information so they can be understood universally)
https://boardlife.co.kbbs_detail.php?tb=community_post&bbs_num=26766
Not long ago in early May, I ran a croquinol booth for students and parents at a Children's Day event (it was held on the grounds of the University of Education)
The head of the school affairs department suggested, "I heard you like board games, do you want to run a booth?" so I thought very hard. Actually, it was bothersome.
In the end, I accepted because I wanted to make good memories with children as well as selling croquinol. At first, I thought it was easy to take a few croquinols and play a few rounds.
It wasn't long before I realized that the idea was very wrong. This is because there were so many things to consider operating the booth. The program should be organized in consideration of the number of users and the number of people visiting.
The arrangement of objects and the movement of people should also be considered. I shouldn't think, 'I'm done explaining the game to the students in moderation and watching them play.'
I have to think about the details. I thought about it until the day of operation and right before it started. Now that it's been decided so far, I'll have to recruit staff to run it together (this was the most difficult problem)
Finally, find out the products to give to the visiting children and purchase them, purchase notices to be installed in the booth, and other things necessary to proceed or make them
For two weeks, I spent a lot of time and energy thinking about and preparing for how to operate the booth. I thought a lot about what to give as the prize, but it was finally decided to go down
(1) Pokémon Key Chain Pokémon is definitely a successful IP!!
I decided it right away because it looked so pretty and the quality looked good. There were some that were really cheap, but the quality was really... It was a pity, so I put in more budget
(2) ritter sport chocolate It's economical because there are 200 in a pack I tried one to see if it's poisonous What????? This chocolate tastes pretty good...
(3) Crockinol Pencil (Steadler + Engrave) Originally, I didn't want to give pencils, but if I imprint them and give them to students, I thought they could remember croquinol for quite some time, so I made it meaningful.
If you look closely at the pencil, you can see the image of a disc bouncing with a finger. (○ ● ☜) I made it using the basic characters on the keyboard. Haha.)
It took a long time to think of the word 'dream tree' in the engraved phrase. (Offered words: rookie, genius, child, master, king, god, etc.) Since there are no other people to help me, I planned and produced a lot of things by myself.... lol
I recruited the operating personnel as follows
Head of the school affairs department -> Recruit me (one-person planner and business manager): Let's compare and analyze croquinol sales and rest at home and then experience it. Decided
Me-> First cast (S teacher): A versatile teacher who has been in the next class since we met in the 6th grade this year He became interested after being introduced to Crockinol by me. Enjoying Crockinol at home with his wife. Canadian style. (He said he was doing it without giving it away.) After receiving a proposal from me, "I'll do all the preparations, so please come and let the children know the games without any burden," he decided to participate after much consideration. I'm playing with my kids in the classroom, and my croquinol skills are increasing rapidly. I'm planning to promote the entire 6th grade croquinol competition later.
Second cast (Teacher C): My younger brother who met as a manager and a staff member at my last school and became very close. The same person who said in an old article that he helped move the classroom!
Together, we played about 400 rounds of croquinol 1:1 match. He made a lot of mistakes in his early days, but after hundreds of editions, he became enlightened at some point. He has become quite a master.
His powerful shots made a lot of crazy scenes. Among them, he sent five discs of his opponent to a ditch at the same time. When he was asked by me to help him, he accepted without hesitation. (He is expected to participate in the next event.)
Third cast (Teacher K): I am a teacher from another region, and I am close to him because I got to know him in a club. She was the last to be recruited, and she suggested liter port chocolate and keychain among the product ideas. Pencils were also highly recommended when I was thinking about it.
Lastly, he volunteered after seeing me thinking about recruiting one more person.
She's the only teacher who doesn't have a croquinol, and she doesn't usually have a chance to train, so she's still a beginner's skill.
Rather, a person who is expected to revitalize the booth operation because of that. (If teachers do too well, all students lose.) For the record, she has a board gamer gene that can also play Arcnova board games.
※ In addition, there is a sad history of rejection and subtly falling over during the recruitment process.
And I started setting it up on the day!! Visit early with teacher C and install one croquinol on three tables in the tent
At first, I was worried because the table was in the shape of a rectangle, but I could put things here and there. If you put the croquinol at an angle on the table, it was possible to conduct a 2:2 team, so there was no problem.
After I finished setting up, I sat down for a bit and tried a croquinol test. Played without any problems. The shot was even better because I told them to cut their nails, including myself.
However, there was a lot of dust on the tables and chairs provided by the company, so I hurriedly cleaned them. The remaining two operators also narrowly joined, and a total of four people were matched.
After that, I had time to start operating the booth as a whole They're here...!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The name of the booth was 'Gather up here if you're confident in flicking', but I think I drew some aggro. Other places looked healthy like making animal bracelets, but our booth was like, "You! Come if you're confident!"
The booth was originally planned like this Planning the rules of the game: - If you feel uncomfortable, you can stand and shoot freely - In the case of 1:1, the original use of the 1/4 shooting line based on North America and Canada, rather than the use of the 1/2 shooting line that changed the rules in Korean company Korea Board Games. - A student who is too young is forced to shoot with a line forward. Two places are experience seats and listen to and experience the rules 1:1 or 2:2 (Parents and friends can participate together) - The experience gift is one litre pot chocolate - Rule Description -> Shot Practice -> consists of a two-game friendly
If you have learned the rules through the experience, go to the challenge seat of one place and challenge 1:1 or 2:2 (you can also participate together) - If you win, you'll get a Pokémon keychain, even if you lose, you'll get a 1/3 chance of a keychain and a 2/3 chance of a pencil through a lottery - Using one chance card, we will proceed with two sets, and if the student draws or wins even one set, it will be considered a victory. - Re-challenge possible when you line up again The booth gradually gathered and filled the corner, and the line got longer
I repeated the explanation and game so wildly!
The first episode : Even though it was in the shade of the tent, the temperature was high, so the chocolate melted. The student said it melted, so I touched it and it was liquid! Unfortunately, we can't give these defective products to students, so we decided to go to the challenge seat without giving them away in the experience seat.
The second episode : Our classmates are here! I heard a voice saying, "Teacher!" and I can see the 6th grade girls in my class
Of course, we played the game. I tried to lose, but I thought that if I lost too much, the student would notice, so I made mistakes from time to time, but these guys made more mistakes!
It ended with me winning or drawing (I should have made it more clear and lost... lol) I said, "This is just an experience seat, so it doesn't matter, show your real skills in the challenge seat," and sent the girl to another corner
The third episode : People were buzzing that a very famous politician visited the booth next door. (He was Korea's presidential candidate.) I looked up and saw the face that I saw on screen Although I was curious, I had my day job as a board gamer, so I welcomed students and focused on explaining the rules. Later, I found out that he talked to a student who experienced our booth and passed by
The 4th episode : The booth operators were not given a separate lunch break! It was announced that they would take turns eating lunch boxes. There were quite a few people... and I barely had time to eat. One person will be in charge of one booth, and one person will take turns eating I'm the type to eat slowly while tasting the taste, but I didn't have much time to relax on this day, so I sat on the stand and came back in a hurry that I couldn't even feel the taste
The fifth episode : There are so many people, and especially in the case of the challenge seat, the waiting line is longer, so to solve the bottleneck, we decided to take both the place and challenge as an experience seat It was the same with the booth I was in. I don't know what this day is... I made more mistakes than usual and often missed shots because I was nervous dealing with children. Hahaha
The 6th episode : The operations staff at the next table said, "A kid came up with a challenge and beat me." He got the prize, of course But after that, the student was still in the viewing room and gave advice to other participating children, saying, "I win all of them," showing a lot of confidence Then the child triumphantly challenged the management staff again! He must have wanted to win again. What was the result? According to him, he showed the dignity of an adult with his skills to children Of course, he gave away a croquinol pencil this time!!
The 7th episode : I explained the rules so much that the script was automatically made "This game is a 150-year-old game of Canada known to have started in 1876.... "In Canada, it's a daily sport that many families have and play throughout their lives, from childhood to grandmothers and grandparents. The rules are simple: if you put it in here, it's 20 points, this is 15 points....." I can't remember how many times I repeated the script above! The eighth episode : There are people who waited for an hour to listen to it while organizing it I've already experienced it and moved to the challenge seat, but the challenge seat lines are too long... Did they feel like they were waiting for a long line in the amusement park... ㅠㅠ Parents were tired of waiting, so they asked to go to another booth, but the child said, "Since I've experienced it, I really want to try it. I want to take a Pokémon keychain!" and waited a lot. It must have been very boring for parents, but there was no other way. I thought the quality of the operation would be very low to just experience/challenge one game at a time 2 play experience + 2 play challenge was the minimum number of plays to feel a little croquinol
The ninth episode : After eating, I heard parents and children talking "This is where we play Alkagi(flicking). Shall we play Alkagi?" "Let's do it!"
If you had written the booth title, "Who wants to play croquinol?" no one would know croquinol, so accessibility would have been low But when the title said "Alkkagi", I was proud of him coming in without any pressure
The 10th episode : The official closing time of the booth was 4 p.m At around 3:50 p.m., I took a breath and looked at other places, and some places had already withdrawn, and I was usually cleaning up, so the atmosphere was clear But our booth is still full It lasted beyond hours Is this the power of crocinol?
The 11th episode : Time has been deleted I was worried about what if time went by during that long time of operating the booth, but it was a mistake. We were so busy explaining and playing that we didn't have time to look at the clock, and when we came to our senses, it was a time when the end was imminent. I couldn't even go to the bathroom for five hours. Because it was hectic, the operation ended without a comparative analysis of 'Are many people visiting other booths? How popular is our booth?' (When I saw the photos and videos later, I could see that our booth was more crowded than other booths.)
The 12th episode : I tried a lot to react to it in my own way. I really complimented the kid every time he hit the disc. I exaggerated a little bit like I became a YouTuber and shouted a compliment chant out loud A young girl who looked like elementary 1 or 2 sat down (around 7-8 years old) I finished explaining the rules, and asked her to practice shooting a few times. After that, we started playing the game. The girl said she would do it first, and she took the first shot of her life's first game. It went straight into the center hole. There was applause from all around. I said, "Even I couldn't put it in at first. It's amazing." Congratulations on your best experience." She's made a lot of mistakes in play since then, but it doesn't matter at all! There's nothing more touching than the first shot of 20 The parents who were nearby filmed this scene and will cherish this meaningful moment for a long time
The 13th episode : There seemed to be something interesting to see other crocinol tables also clapping, wow, oh, oh From the perspective of planning, all these reactions are a gift
The 14th episode : There were a lot of spectators while explaining/playing There were a lot of comments about the rules of the game "You have to hit the disc when it's on the surface" "Oh!" A male parent was glad to hear that he knew croquinol "I knew this game since it came out last year. It was about 110 dollars, but I didn't buy it because it was expensive." (It's more expensive now. It's about $140)
The 15th episode : We allowed a re-challenge in the 'Beat the Teacher' section, caressing the hearts of children thirsty for crocinol Some students tried again 3 times (The challenge itself takes about 1 minute and 30 seconds for the first round, 3 minutes in total, so it doesn't take much.)
The 16th episode : After 4 p.m., I looked at the other booth thinking about when to organize it, and a boy who looked like a fourth grade in the challenge seat was doing very well Her parents were also amazed by it The accuracy of each step wasn't unusual He said he came back to try it out and do it again Looking at the game, he unfortunately lost to Teacher S by 5 points when he made a mistake of 2 turns in the second half Teacher S told the student. " Try it with that teacher. He's the best While sitting down, I asked, "Do you want me to do it with all my strength or not?" I laughed and asked At first, the student said, "Please be generous!" but later changed his words to "With full strength." "Haha, okay. I'll go with all my strength!" The student said he would attack first and tried an open shot and went straight into the center hole "Wow... does this make sense?" I also chased along the disc in the center hole. That's how I tried to hit my opponent's disc in Hogan's alley and accidentally wasted three turns. The result is that the student who leads by 15 points wins... The child liked it very much and came home with a light step with his parents "Thank you for your hard work. Bye!" When I looked at the playground with the back of my family leaving after saying hello, the sun was slowly heading down, scattering light everywhere and giving the lawn a cozy view What could be a more peaceful landscape. He must have felt really good on his way home. I thought he lost well
Finish writing : When I was in college, I ran a different kind of booth when I was the president of a club, but it was the first time I ran it this way in relation to board games.
At that time, there were a lot of club members and the space was very spacious, so the event was held comfortably, but the croquinol booth was operated in a very minimal condition: 1 tent, 3 tables, 3 croquinols, and 4 people in operation
Still, it ended successfully as it exceeded the time without an accident, so considering that it is the first operation under this condition, it should be considered a great success.
The operation of this croquinol booth was planned by myself and prepared for the program, so I have a lot of attachment.
I'm grateful to the three people who ran it together (they were dispatched from each elementary school publicly and privately). As expected, people are the most important.
I'm willing to do it again if I have to participate in the booth event another month this year or if I have to run it again next year. I think we can do it in a better way than now
For example, I dream of running a mini-contest by installing more tables. There's a mini trophy, and I think the kid who got it will really like it. (Of course we need a lot more people than we do now...!)

I'm a very insecure person. There's really no way around it. I've had very few stable relationships, platonic or romantic, and I'm kind of at a point where I tend to fear the worst cause I've seen the worst. I understand the toll this takes on others and I try to take assuring myself into my own hands. I make an effort to reach out, organize outings, throw large parties for myself, randomly check up on my friends, attempt conversations, etc. But it's so painfully obvious when it's not appreciated. So many times, people will curb my basic attempts at human connection. I recently started college and even just asking people to study with me, I'm regularly shut down or ghosted. I see people posting freshman year highlights because the year finally came to an end and I can count on one hand the amount of times I left my dorm for something other than gym, school or food. Back in high school when I dealt with this, I could usually chalk it up to maybe I offended them somehow. But at this point in my life, I interact with so many new people so regularly that it's just not even possible I offended them all.
To make matters worse, I'm an out of state student. I feel detached from my family and my home. My room in high school was given to my sister and I stay in a guest room now. The friends I do have from high school don't really talk to me. I mean we have this big groupchat where everyone is always talking, but I see them dm each other, spend time with each other, create actual bonds. Meanwhile, if I reach out, the chances of them even responding are slim, nevermind them ever texting me. When events are organized by someone other than myself or my boyfriend who is also in the group, I am very often left out. Especially birthdays. I invited 30+ people to my own. I genuinely want to connect with people and so I thought inviting them into my home, sharing food and conversation would be the way to do it. But when other people throw events, especially ones that have a limit on how many people can come, I'm never there. I'm not mad at any one person in particular, it just sucks that no body considers me close enough to include.
I have been very vocal about how I feel with that particular group. Basically anyone willing to listen has heard me say that I don't actually feel wanted around them. But I wind up feeling bad. They tell me that they do care about me and they do want me around. I'm told oh they're just awkward people, you're not here often, they've known each other longer (I met them through my boyfriend...yes I am ashamed to not have my own friends outside of that but I've really tried). But it sucks when I look at their stories and theyre smiling having fun yet again. Why dont I have any friends who just call me. Who just say hey when are you free. Who just go hey how are you doing. I swear I've tried initiating this and it just comes off like I'm forcing it. So I stop. And then we stop talking. :/
I'm currently on a 2-week study abroad program with my school. I was put with about 19 random people and they will literally lie to avoid hanging out with me. The feeling of loneliness has never been steeper. Across the world away from home with 2 dozen other freshmen who I've never talked to before...and they still wont spend time with me. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I feel like the bug spray I put on every morning is some friend repellent.
And honestly, my biggest fear is continuing to live in misery. It's summer time. I'm still a teenager. With or without a super close band of friends to tackle the world with me, I still want to enjoy my life. I've settled on a really big project to lock in on this summer. I've decided to make a sims machinima series. Some people laughed at me when I mentioned it, but I find it fun. I could take roller skating more seriously just to get out of the house. I don't know, I want to enjoy my own company. But I'm also just a teenage girl who was never invited to the slumber party.

J. V. Stalin
The Party's Tasks Report Delivered at an Enlarged Meeting of the Krasnaya Presnya District Committee of the R.C.P.(B.) With Group Organisers, Members of the Debating Society and of the Bureau of the Party Units December 2, 1923 Source : Works, Vol. 5, 1921 - 1923 Publisher : Foreign Languages Publishing House, Moscow, 1954 Transcription/Markup : Salil Sen for MIA, 2008 Public Domain : Marxists Internet Archive (2008). You may freely copy, distribute, display and perform this work; as well as make derivative and commercial works. Please credit "Marxists Internet Archive" as your source.
Comrades, first of all I must say that I am delivering a report here in my personal capacity and not in the name of the Central Committee of the Party. If the meeting is willing to hear such a report, I am at your service. (Voices : "Yes.") This does not mean that I disagree with the Central Committee in any way on this question; not at all. I am speaking here in my personal capacity only because the commission of the Central Committee for drafting measures to improve the internal situation in the Party 1 is to present its findings to the Central Committee in a day or two; these findings have not yet been presented, and therefore I have as yet no formal right to speak in the name of the Central Committee, although I am sure that what I am about to say to you will, in the main, express the Central Committee's position on these questions.
Discussion — A Sign of the Party's Strength The first question I would like to raise here is that of the significance of the discussion that is now taking place in the press and in the Party units. What does this discussion show? What does it indicate? Is it a storm that has burst into the calm life of the Party? Is this discussion a sign of the Party's disintegration, its decay, as some say, or of its degeneration, as others say?
I think, comrades, that it is neither one nor the other: there is neither degeneration nor disintegration. The fact of the matter is that the Party has grown more mature during the past period; it has adequately rid itself of useless ballast; it has become more proletarian. You know that two years ago we had not less than 700,000 members; you know that several thousand members have dropped out, or have been kicked out, of the Party. Further, the Party membership has improved, its quality has risen in this period as a result of the improvement in the conditions of the working class due to the revival of industry, as a result of the return of the old skilled workers from the countryside, and as a result of the new wave of cultural development that is spreading among the industrial workers.
In short, owing to all these circumstances, the Party has grown more mature, its quality has risen, its needs have grown, it has become more exacting, it wants to know more than it has known up to now, and it wants to decide more than it has up to now.
The discussion which has opened is not a sign of the Party's weakness, still less is it a sign of its disintegration or degeneration; it is a sign of strength, a sign of firmness, a sign of the improvement in the quality of the Party's membership, a sign of its increased activity.
Causes of the Discussion The second question that confronts us is: what has caused the question of internal Party policy to become so acute precisely in the present period, in the autumn of this year? How is this to be explained? What were the causes? I think, comrades, that there were two causes.
The first cause was the wave of discontent and strikes over wages that swept through certain districts of the republic in August of this year. The fact of the matter is that this strike wave exposed the defects in our organisations; it revealed the isolation of our organisations— both Party and trade-union—from the events taking place in the factories. And in connection with this strike wave the existence was discovered within our Party of several secret organisations of an essentially anti-communist nature, which strove to disintegrate the Party. All these defects revealed by the strike wave were exposed to the Party so glaringly, and with such a sobering effect, that it felt the necessity for internal Party changes.
The second cause of the acuteness of the question of internal Party policy precisely at the present moment was the wholesale release of Party comrades to go on vacation. It is natural, of course, for comrades to go on vacation, but this assumed such a mass character, that Party activity became considerably weaker precisely at the time when the discontent arose in the factories, and that greatly helped to expose the accumulated defects just at this period, in the autumn of this year.
Defects in Internal Party Life I have mentioned defects in our Party life that were exposed in the autumn of this year, and which brought up the question of improving internal Party life. What are these defects in internal Party life? Is it that the Party line was wrong, as some comrades think; or that, although the Party's line was correct, in practice it departed from the right road, was distorted because of certain subjective and objective conditions?
I think that the chief defect in our internal Party life is that, although the Party's line, as expressed in the decisions of our congresses, is correct, in the localities (not everywhere, of course, but in certain districts) it was put into practice in an incorrect way. While the proletarian-democratic line of our Party was correct, the way it was put into practice in the localities resulted in cases of bureaucratic distortion of this line.
That is the chief defect. The existence of contradictions between the basic Party line as laid down by the Congresses (Tenth, Eleventh and Twelfth), and the way our organisations put this line into practice in the locali-ties—that is the foundation of all the defects in internal Party life.
The Party line says that the major questions of our Party activities, except, of course, those that brook no delay, or those that are military or diplomatic secrets, must without fail be discussed at Party meetings. That is what the Party line says. But in Party practice in the localities, not everywhere, of course, it was considered that there is really no great need for a number of questions concerning internal Party practice to be discussed at Party meetings since the Central Committee and the other leading organisations will decide these questions.
The Party line says that our Party officials must without fail be elected unless there are insuperable obstacles to this, such as absence of the necessary Party standing, and so forth. You know that, according to the Party rules, secretaries of Gubernia Committees must have a pre-October Party standing, secretaries of Uyezd Committees must have at least three years', and units secretaries a year's, Party standing. In Party practice, however, it was often considered that since a certain Party standing was needed, no real elections were needed.
The Party line says that the Party membership must be kept informed about the work of the economic organisations, the factories and trusts, for, naturally, our Party units are morally responsible to the non-Party masses for the defects in the factories. Nevertheless, in Party practice it was considered that since there is a Central Committee which issues directives to the economic organisations, and since these economic organisations are bound by those directives, the latter will be carried out without control from below by the mass of the Party membership.
The Party line says that responsible workers in different branches of work, whether Party, economic, trade-union, or military workers, notwithstanding their specialisation in their own particular work, are interconnected, constitute inseparable parts of one whole, for they are all working in the common cause of the proletariat, which cannot be torn into parts. In Party practice, however, it was considered that since there is specialisation, division of labour according to properly Party activity and economic, military, etc., activity, the Party officials are not responsible for those working in the economic sphere, the latter are not responsible for the Party officials, and, in general, that the weakening and even loss of connection between them are inevitable.
Such, comrades, are, in general, the contradictions between the Party line, as registered in a number of decisions of our Congresses, from the Tenth to the Twelfth, and Party practice.
I am far from blaming the local organisations for this distortion of the Party line, for, when you come to examine it, this is not so much the fault as the misfortune of our local organisations. The nature of this misfortune, and how things could have taken this turn, I shall tell you later on, but I wanted to register this fact in order to reveal this contradiction to you and then try to propose measures for improvement.
I am also far from considering our Central Committee to be blameless. It, too, has sinned, as has every institution and organisation; it, too, shares part of the blame and part of the misfortune: blame, at least, for not, whatever the reason, exposing these defects in time, and for not taking measures to eliminate them.
But that is not the point now. The point now is to ascertain the causes of the defects I have just spoken about. Indeed, how did these defects arise, and how can they be removed?
The Causes of the Defects The first cause is that our Party organisations have not yet rid themselves, or have still not altogether rid themselves, of certain survivals of the war period, a period that has passed, but has left in the minds of our responsible workers vestiges of the military regime in the Party. I think that these survivals find expression in the view that our Party is not an independently acting organism, not an independently acting, militant organisation of the proletariat, but something in the nature of a system of institutions, something in the nature of a complex of institutions in which there are officials of lower rank and officials of higher rank. That, comrades, is a profoundly mistaken view that has nothing in common with Marxism; that view is a survival that we have inherited from the war period, when we militarised the Party, when the question of the independent activity of the mass of the Party membership had necessarily to be shifted into the background and military orders were of decisive importance. I do not remember that this view was ever definitely expressed; nevertheless, it, or elements of it, still influences our work. Comrades, we must combat such views with all our might, for they are a very real danger and create favourable conditions for the distortion in practice of the essentially correct line of our Party.
The second cause is that our state apparatus, which is bureaucratic to a considerable degree, exerts a certain amount of pressure on the Party and the Party workers. In 1917, when we were forging ahead, towards October, we imagined that we would have a Commune, a free association of working people, that we would put an end to bureaucracy in government institutions, and that it would be possible, if not in the immediate period, then within two or three short periods, to transform the state into a free association of working people. Practice has shown, however, that this is still an ideal which is a long way off, that to rid the state of the elements of bureaucracy, to transform Soviet society into a free association of working people, the people must have a high level of culture, peace conditions must be fully guaranteed all around us so as to remove the necessity of maintaining a large standing army, which entails heavy expenditure and cumbersome administrative departments, the very existence of which leaves its impress upon all the other state institutions. Our state apparatus is bureaucratic to a considerable degree, and it will remain so for a long time to come. Our Party comrades work in this apparatus, and the situation—I might say the atmosphere—in this bureaucratic apparatus is such that it helps to bureaucratise our Party workers and our Party organisations.
The third cause of the defects, comrades, is that some of our units are not sufficiently active, they are backward, and in some cases, particularly in the border regions, they are even wholly illiterate. In these districts, the units display little activity and are politically and culturally backward. That circumstance, too, undoubtedly creates a favourable soil for the distortion of the Party line.
The fourth cause is the absence of a sufficient number of trained Party comrades in the localities. Recently, in the Central Committee, I heard the report of a representative of one of the Ukrainian organisations. The reporter was a very capable comrade who shows great promise. He said that of 130 units, 80 have secretaries who were appointed by the Gubernia Committee. In answer to the remark that this organisation was acting wrongly in this respect, the comrade pleaded that there were no literate people in the units, that they consisted of new members, that the units themselves ask for secretaries to be sent them, and so forth. I may grant that half of what this comrade said was an overstatement, that the matter is not only that there are no trained people in the units, but also that the Gubernia Committee was over-zealous and followed the old tradition. But even if the Gubernia Committee was correct only to the extent of fifty per cent, is it not obvious that if there are such units in the Ukraine, how many more like them must there be in the border regions, where the organisations are young, where there are fewer Party cadres and less literacy than in the Ukraine? That is also one of the factors that create favourable conditions for the distortion in practice of the essentially correct Party line.
Lastly, the fifth cause—insufficient information. We sent out too little information, and this applies primarily to the Central Committee, possibly because it is overburdened with work. We receive too little information from the localities. This must cease. This is also a serious cause of the defects that have accumulated within the Party.
How should the Defects in Internal Party Life be Removed ? What measures must be adopted to remove these defects?
The first thing is tirelessly, by every means, to combat the survivals and habits of the war period in our Party, to combat the erroneous view that our Party is a system of institutions, and not a militant organisation of the proletariat, which is intellectually vigorous, acts independently, lives a full life, is destroying the old and creating the new.
Secondly, the activity of the mass of the Party membership must be increased; all questions of interest to the membership in so far as they can be openly discussed must be submitted to it for open discussion, and the possibility ensured of free criticism of all proposals made by the different Party bodies. Only in this way will it be possible to convert Party discipline into really conscious, really iron discipline; only in this way will it be possible to increase the political, economic and cultural experience of the mass of Party members; only in this way will it be possible to create the conditions necessary to enable the Party membership, step by step, to promote new active workers, new leaders, from its ranks.
Thirdly, the principle of election must be applied in practice to all Party bodies and official posts, if there are no insuperable obstacles to this such as lack of the necessary Party standing, and so forth. We must eliminate the practice of ignoring the will of the majority of the organisations in promoting comrades to responsible
Party posts, and we must see to it that the principle of election is actually applied.
Fourthly, there must exist under the Central Committee and the Gubernia and Regional Committees permanently functioning conferences of responsible workers in all fields of work—economic, Party, trade-union and military; these conferences must be held regularly and discuss any question they consider it necessary to discuss; the interconnection between the workers in all fields must not be broken; all these workers must feel that they are all members of a single Party family, working in a common cause, the cause of the proletariat, which is indivisible; the Central Committee and the local organisations must create an environment that will enable the Party to acquire and test the experience of our responsible workers in all spheres of work.
Fifthly, our Party units in the factories must be drawn into dealing with the various questions relating to the course of affairs in the respective enterprises and trusts. Things must be so arranged that the units are kept informed about the work of the administrations of our enterprises and trusts and are able to exert an influence on this work. You, as representatives of units, are aware how great is the moral responsibility of our factory units to the non-Party masses for the course of affairs in the factories. For the unit to be able to lead and win the following of the non-Party masses in the factory, for it to be able to bear responsibility for the course of affairs in the factory—and it certainly has a moral responsibility to the non-Party masses for defects in the work of the factory—the unit must be kept informed about these affairs, it must be possible for it to influence them in one way or another. Therefore, the units must be drawn into the discussion of economic questions relating to their factories, and economic conferences of representatives of the factory units in a given trust must be called from time to time to discuss questions relating to the affairs of the trust. This is one of the surest ways both of enlarging the economic experience of the Party membership and of organising control from below.
Sixthly, the quality of the membership of our Party units must be improved. Zinoviev has already said in an article of his that here and there the quality of the membership of our Party units is below that of the surrounding non-Party masses.
That statement, of course, must not be generalised and applied to all the units. It would be more exact to say the following for example: our Party units would be on a much higher cultural level than they are now, and would have much greater authority among non-Party people, if we had not denuded these units, if we had not taken from them people we needed for economic, administrative, trade-union and all sorts of other work. If our working-class comrades, the cadres we have taken from the units during the past six years, were to return to their units, does it need proof that those units would stand head and shoulders above all the non-Party workers, even the most advanced? Precisely because the Party has no other cadres with which to improve the state apparatus, precisely because the Party will be obliged to continue using that source, our units will remain on a somewhat unsatisfactory cultural level unless we take urgent measures to improve the quality of their membership. First of all, Party educational work in the units must be increased to the utmost; furthermore, we must get rid of the excessive formalism our local organisations sometimes display in accepting working-class comrades into the Party. I think that we must not allow ourselves to be bound by formalism; the Party can, and must, create easier conditions for the acceptance of new members from the ranks of the working class. That has already begun in the local organisations. The Party must take this matter in hand and launch an organised campaign for creating easier access to the Party for new members from workers at the bench.
Seventhly, work must be intensified among the non-Party workers. This is another means of improving the internal Party situation, of increasing the activity of the Party membership. I must say that our organisations are still paying little attention to the task of drawing non-Party workers into our Soviets. Take, for example, the elections to the Moscow Soviet that are being held now. I consider that one of the big defects in these elections is that too few non-Party people are being elected. It is said that there exists a decision of the organisation to the effect that at least a certain number, a certain percentage, etc., of non-Party people are to be elected; but I see that, in fact, a far smaller number is being elected. It is said that the masses are eager to elect only Communists. I have my doubts about that, comrades. I think that unless we show a certain degree of confidence in the non-Party people they may answer by becoming very distrustful of our organisations. This confidence in the non-Party people is absolutely necessary, comrades. Communists must be induced to withdraw their candidatures.
Speeches must not be delivered urging the election only of Communists; non-Party people must be encouraged, they must be drawn into the work of administering the state. We shall gain by this and in return receive the reciprocal confidence of the non-Party people in our organisations. The elections in Moscow are an example of the degree to which our organisations are beginning to isolate themselves within their Party shell instead of enlarging their field of activity and, step by step, rallying the non-Party people around themselves.
Eighthly, work among the peasants must be intensified. I do not know why our village units, which in some places are wilting, are losing their members and are not trusted much by the peasants (this must be admitted)—I do not know why, for instance, two practical tasks cannot be set these units: firstly, to interpret and popularise the Soviet laws which affect peasant life; secondly, to agitate for and disseminate elementary agronomic knowledge, if only the knowledge that it is necessary to plough the fields in proper time, to sift seed, etc. Do you know, comrades, that if every peasant were to decide to devote a little labour to the sifting of seed, it would be possible without land improvement, and without introducing new machines, to obtain an increase in crop yield amounting to about ten poods per dessiatin? And what does an increase in crop yield of ten poods per dessiatin mean? It means an increase in the gross crop of a thousand million poods per annum. And all this could be achieved without great effort. Why should not our village units take up this matter? Is it less important than talking about Curzon's policy? The peasants would then realise that the Communists have stopped engaging in empty talk and have got down to real business; and then our village units would win the boundless confidence of the peasants.
There is no need for me to stress how necessary it is, for improving and reviving Party life, to intensify Party and political educational work among the youth, the source of new cadres, in the Red Army, among women delegates, and among non-Party people in general.
Nor will I dwell upon the importance of increasing the interchange of information, about which I have already spoken, of increasing the supply of information from the top downwards and from below upwards.
Such, comrades, are the measures for improvement, the course towards internal Party democracy which the Central Committee set as far back as September of this year, and which must be put into practice by all Party organisations from top to bottom.
I would now like to deal with two extremes, two obsessions, on the question of workers' democracy that were to be noted in some of the discussion articles in Pravda.
The first extreme concerns the election principle. It manifests itself in some comrades wanting to have elections "throughout." Since we stand for the election principle, let us go the whole hog in electing! Party standing? What do we want that for? Elect whomever you please. That is a mistaken view, comrades. The Party will not accept it. Of course, we are not now at war; we are in a period of peaceful development. But we are now living under the NEP. Do not forget that, comrades. The Party began the purge not during, but after the war. Why? Because, during the war, fear of defeat drew the Party together into one whole, and some of the disruptive elements in the Party were compelled to keep to the general line of the Party, which was faced with the question of life or death. Now these bonds have fallen away, for we are not now at war; now we have the NEP, we have permitted a revival of capitalism, and the bourgeoisie is reviving. True, all this helps to purge the Party, to strengthen it; but on the other hand, we are being enveloped in a new atmosphere by the nascent and growing bourgeoisie, which is not very strong yet, but which has already succeeded in beating some of our co-operatives and trading organisations in internal trade. It was precisely after the introduction of the NEP that the Party began the purge and reduced its membership by half; it was precisely after the introduction of the NEP that the Party decided that, in order to protect our organisations from the contagion of the NEP, it was necessary, for example, to hinder the influx of non-proletarian elements into the Party, that it was necessary that Party officials should have a definite Party standing, and so forth. Was the Party right in taking these precautionary measures, which restricted "expanded" democracy? I think it was. That is why I think that we must have democracy, we must have the election principle, but the restrictive measures that were adopted by the Eleventh and Twelfth Congresses, at least the chief ones, must still remain in force.
The second extreme concerns the question of the limits of the discussion. This extreme manifests itself in some comrades demanding unlimited discussion; they think that the discussion of problems is the be all and end all of Party work and forget about the other aspect of Party work, namely, action, which calls for the implementation of the Party's decisions. At all events, this was the impression I gained from the short article by Radzin, who tried to substantiate the principle of unlimited discussion by a reference to Trotsky, who is alleged to have said that "the Party is a voluntary association of like-minded people." I searched for that sentence in Trotsky's works, but could not find it. Trotsky could scarcely have uttered it as a finished formula for the definition of the Party; and if he did utter it, he could scarcely have stopped there. The Party is not only an association of like-minded people; it is also an association of like-acting people, it is a militant association of like-acting people who are fighting on a common ideological basis (programme, tactics). I think that the reference to Trotsky is out of place, for I know Trotsky as one of the members of the Central Committee who most of all stress the active side of Party work. I think, therefore, that Radzin himself must bear responsibility for this definition. But what does this definition lead to? One of two possibilities: either that the Party will degenerate into a sect, into a philosophical school, for only in such narrow organisations is complete like-minded-ness possible; or that it will become a permanent debating society, eternally discussing and eternally arguing, until the point is reached where factions form and the Party is split. Our Party cannot accept either of these possibilities. This is why I think that the discussion of problems is needed, a discussion is needed, but limits must be set to such discussion in order to safeguard the Party, to safeguard this fighting unit of the proletariat, against degenerating into a debating society.
In concluding my report, I must warn you, comrades, against these two extremes. I think that if we reject both these extremes and honestly and resolutely steer the course towards internal Party democracy that the Central Committee set already in September of this year, we shall certainly achieve an improvement in our Party work. (Applause.)
Pravda, No. 277, December 6, 1923
Notes 1. This refers to the commission set up in conformity with the decision of the Political Bureau and of the Plenum of the Central Committee of the R.C.P.(B.) which took place on September 23-25, 1923.
Collected Works Index Volume 5 Index Works by Decade J. V. Stalin Archive Marxists Internet Archive

I just am at such a loss with this.
When I was 18 I was groomed by my favourite teacher during a time in life when I was very vulnerable, which he knew and exploited.
It started as little flirty comments, personal emails on our school accounts, practical jokes etc and in the end he got a hold of my contact details and we started texting. This happened just before I left school and continued for about a year.
He told me he and his wife had an agreement that he was allowed to talk to and pursue certain sexual things with other women because there were things he was into that she wasn't, as long as she didn't have to hear about it.
He also had me convinced that because of this situation with his wife, our relationship was fine because it was just friends helping friends with what they needed. He said there was nothing wrong with it, but that we just had to keep it to ourselves because other people wouldn't understand.
The context around the situation is all very weird but basically he had a son my age who I was friendly with and that was one of the things he used as a cover - he would plant seeds in his son's head to invite me to do things with their family etc.
I ended up invited to their church and this teacher also took on a "spiritual mentor" role in my life.
He and I were very close and it did cross a line into sexual communication. So there was this very odd dynamic where we would acknowledge this sexual thing between us but then he would go to church, feel bad about it and then tell me we could only keep communicating if it was about God. That would last a few weeks then it would descend into how it was before.
There were a couple of times things nearly became sexual physically, but only once did it actually happen and by that point I had started distancing myself because I had begun to realize our relationship was weird. The physical sexual act was that as I went to hug him goodbye he grabbed me, pinned me against him and moved my hand to touch him through his trousers. He told me to put my hand in his trousers but I was frozen because I was scared. He eventually let me go and I left.
I told him via text afterwards that it was okay because he messaged me seemingly very remorseful and upset, in hindsight I think he was just worried I would tell someone now a physical line had been crossed.
People suspected we were involved and it was reported to the church and the school more than once. He begged me to lie for him and at the time I wanted to protect him so I did.
I became so close with his family that I spent new years with his wife and son, he wasn't even there. His wife used to say I was like a daughter to her. He also said it a few times which is obviously messed up considering the way things were sometimes.
He was very manipulative and used to gaslight me horribly. One minute he was telling me he wanted to run away to France with me so we could be together and asking me to send him pictures, the next he was telling me I was delusional about his feelings for me and there was nothing between us.
I was very lonely and our relationship became essentially my whole world. He knew this and if I said or did things he didn't like he would threaten to cut me off. He used this to try and get personal information about his son because we were friends.
After nearly a year I became a bit healthier mentally and emotionally and realised things were off, I started distancing and he could tell. At some point I decided I didn't want him texting me anymore so we would email, I would keep my responses friendly but brief.
He started telling me he was depressed, suicidal even, trying to get my attention and keep me on the hook I guess, he knew that was my soft spot. Eventually it was too much and I told him to leave me alone for good. In response he told his son about what had been going on - I think he thought if I didn't want to be his friend, I didn't get to be friends with his son either. His son was staggeringly nice about it and said he forgave me.
He would still try to contact me and I would ignore him, so he ended up getting his son to contact me saying essentially that his dad was very depressed and wanted "permission" to email me to apologise to me for everything. I said I wasn't happy about it but wanted him off my friend's back so said fine.
When he emailed me there was no apology, just rambling like nothing was different, asking me to come over one day to talk about his depression (still under the guise of going to see his son). I told him to talk to a therapist or his wife and to leave me alone.
After that I had a couple of social media requests from him over a year or so and eventually he left me alone. A few years later I began therapy and they helped me realize he had actually groomed and assaulted me, so I went to the police and filed charges.
They told me that his grooming behaviour, though obviously gross, was actually not illegal because I was 18 when it happened and communications didn't technically become sexual until after I left school (by mere days. DAYS). They said that the only thing they could technically prosecute for was that sexual assault in his office because I hadn't provided consent for what he did. The officer literally said "I have a daughter and if I could get this guy for being a creep I would because it's disgusting, but the assault itself is the only bit that's an actual crime".
It was handed over to the police force in another county because of where the assault occurred. I made it clear that though I didn't have concrete evidence of the assault, the correspondences between us would support it. They knew everything had been deleted because he used to periodically make me delete everything, I was assured they could easily recover deleted messages.
He was interviewed and played it off that I was a schoolgirl with a crush/obsession and that I now had a grudge against him. He also managed to produce a letter I wrote him when I was leaving school as proof of my crush. Which it absolutely was, but again, he groomed me. I never denied having had a crush on him. It's how grooming works. The police decided that was sufficient and dropped my case.
So now, 10 years on I've spent thousands on different therapies, and I am still so angry. I can't get over it and it's really really bothering me, every day. I hate him so much for doing this to me. I have reoccurring nightmares that I have to go back to school and be taught by him again after everything, in the dreams I just run around the school avoiding him and trying to escape.
He's retired as of last year and that's been some small relief, but he does private tutoring now and I just hate that he got away with this.

disclaimer that i am NOT certified. i am simply an NA and have a lot less responsibilities. my hospital trained me for a week and put me on my medsurg/telemetry floor. i basically just run errands for my nurses/patients, do patient care, and act (minimally) as a housekeeper. another disclaimer that this is kind of a long rant.
i’ve been here since March 13, 2023. i love my job, kind of, but god, this job is so, so draining. i miss working simpler jobs where i didn’t take work home with me. i’ve had shifts that left me in a bad mood for days after. i have a lot taking a toll on me OUTSIDE of work. work used to be my escape.
there’s so much workplace drama as well, it’s like primary school all over again. and it’s always the older nurses. don’t get me wrong, there’s several coworkers that i love with all of my heart. we go out for lunch and dinner together, go on hikes, etc.
there’s a select few of my nurses who i have NEVER seen do patient care in my year of working. it’s all task delegation, even when i’m the only aide on my floor of 36 patients. they have a major superiority complex and do everything they can to avoid helping me. some will see that i’m clearly in the middle of something and obviously overwhelmed and ask me to get a set of vitals so they can give their pain meds. i already have to get 18 sets of vitals every 4 hours, which takes me 1-1.5 hours as it is. by the time i’m inished, i’m starting again.
i’ve been physically, verbally, mentally, emotionally abused by patients. i’ve been shamed for my tattoos, my scrubs, my weight, my height. i’ve been physically and verbally sexually harassed way too often.
i’m looked down on by my managers, nurses, NPs, PAs, residents, doctors, etc. but what hurts the most is my patients seeing me as less-than. i know i’m just an assistant, but i don’t want to be seen as “just” an assistant. of course, sometimes i get lovely patients, some of which are frequent fliers who love seeing me again.
most of my patients are geriatric and/or incontinent. most of my days consist of constant bed changes. so many are demented and/or fall risks who won’t stop getting out of bed, and my nurses get annoyed when i ask them for help getting them back in bed.
i have sciatica and it’s dreadful. some days i can barely make it and my legs will hurt for days after my shift. everyone looks down on me for needing to sit down for a while but they don’t understand the pain i’m in (unmedicated and untreated). i was put on a steroid packet for a month and it saved me, but that was only temporary. i can’t get an MRI until i complete 6 weeks of PT 3 days a week so my insurance will cover it, but i don’t have time between work and school, both full time. i told my PCP this so she referred me to a chiropractor. thanks but no thanks.
i’m VERY anemic and i’m on supplements, but they make me so constipated. i have to take them every other day and take laxatives almost daily, which i know is bad for you.
i have bipolar II, anxiety, and possibly ADHD. i can be on the brink of being suicidal and still have to plaster a smile on my face for my patients. they ask me how i am but i tell myself not to complain because i know they’re in a worse position than me and it’s like rubbing it in their faces. i’ll just say “Tired! How about you, honey?”
i’ve had chronic tachycardia since birth. it’s not uncommon for my HR to be in the 140s-150s, but i’ve seen it in the 170s. i’m also addicted to caffeine which is a great combination. i used to drink 3 monsters a day but my partner made me cut back for my health. my coworkers would hide them from me haha. it doesn’t even energize me anymore; it just makes me feel normal.
my back is already killing me. i’m only 20 years old. i know that nursing kills your back as well, but after gaining 2 years of experience and completing my BSN, i will be able to specialize in WOC where i won’t hurt my back as much. my MIL is a WOC nurse who invites me to do rounds with her and shadow her while she charts and does consults, and i’ve decided that’s my dream job. it’s something i’m genuinely looking forward to. my boyfriend asked, “if you could have any job, and pay was the same across the board, what would it be?” i told him i’d still be a WOC nurse.
i’m in pre-nursing right now, but once i’m officially in the nursing program, my hospital will pay for most of my schooling. however, i will have to sign a contract with them (i can’t remember if it’s 3 or 5 years. i think they changed it recently.). i figured it would be fine, since i’ll be specializing at this hospital. but this position is killing my physical and mental health. i don’t know. i can’t bring myself to leave so i’m just venting. thanks for reading if you got this far.