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For context, we both waited till marriage to lose virginity. We were also both long distance. Before, he had a very high sex drive. He would have to masterbate at random times because of his boners he would get over the phone or randomly at work or when he visits me he would have to go to the bathroom to masterbate or at least try to get rid of it somehow.
As time went on, he got more stressed because getting married takes a lot of financial stress and he just finished school. But he would still be interested in it. He definitely was less interested and didn’t even care for nudes because he thought it would stress him out because he cannot show me enough attention for them and he would likely just look at it and “enjoy” it. But still, when he would visit we would do things together aside from intercourse but he would still push me to have intercourse. So he definitely did not naturally have a low libido. He used to say how he would want to have sex every single day and he felt that he would need it. He was also very crazy and risky and didn’t seem very “vanilla” since we did other sexual things and saw each other naked
Now that we moved in, and we lost our virginities, it’s like a chore to him. Even in the beginning he was very patient with breaking my hymen whereas I kept wanting to try. But it’s not just that he wants it less often, but when we DO have sex, he isn’t “crazy” he says he’s too tired to do this and that. I definitely want it more than him. He does still try and put an effort because he knows it’s not fair. He basically told me he would die to have a wife who wants sex all the time, like he was actually concerned mine might not be high enough. But now it’s too hard. This caused a lot of fights in the beginning but I figured I should back off a bit. He apologizes for when he doesn’t wanna have sex and I tell him it’s fine.
He says it’s because of stress even on his days off he’s just tired but he is able to do other things. He does get quite tired I’ll admit. This isn’t a case of mismatched libido. He once had a high libido.
I just want to know if this is fixable. I’ve heard your sex life/frequency decreases so I’m worried if it’s like this now, what will it be in the future? 2-3 times a week is how often we do it but as newly married virgin couples, I expected more, and that 2-3 times a week is forced from his end so I started just saying “we don’t have to if you don’t want to or if you’re forced” and he gets mad that I say that because he hates he’s like this and that I’m not satisfied. Not only that, it’s one thing for the frequency of libido to decrease, but even trying exciting things isn’t fun to him anymore. if his libido was once high, and he is currently dealing debt, finances, worrying about family, providing/taking care of me, always on his phone stressing about his job, can it get bettemore frequent? I’m assuming if these stresses improve and he still naturally had a high libido, it can be fixed. But I have ALWAYS heard it decreases, not increases with time. Is that always the case?
Also no, it isn’t my looks. I don’t let him see me with a hairy body, or using the bathroom etc he sees me when I’m comfortable as in sweat pants but I don’t comfortably look disgusting in front of him. And my looks didn’t change. I also dress up for him. And we have a good relationship he treats me well and loves me and flirts and touches me but anything sexual is a chore. Again, he is trying to be better. And he says he thinks this is temporary and it will be better in the future. I’ve always wanted crazy exciting spontaneous sex at least SOME times. And I imagined we’d both eagerly wanna do it at least 4-5 times a week. Can this be fixed if it starts out like this?

Well, I've heard if Cisco Easter Eggs, but this is a weird one.
I work at a local ISP for my region, and we have one of our employees working on getting the hardware ready for infrastructure upgrades. One of the devices he's working on is a Catalyst 3750.
Well, he sent us a copy of the startup config file and most of it is this strange conspiracy story.
Has anyone seen anything like this before?

POST: CPU MIC register Tests : Begin
POST: CPU MIC register Tests : End, Status Passed
POST: PortASIC Memory Tests : Begin
POST: PortASIC Memory Tests : End, Status Passed
POST: CPU MIC interface Loopback Tests : Begin
POST: CPU MIC interface Loopback Tests : End, Status Passed
POST: PortASIC RingLoopback Tests : Begin
POST: PortASIC RingLoopback Tests : End, Status Passed
Waiting for Stack Master Election...
POST: PortASIC CAM Subsystem Tests : Begin
POST: PortASIC CAM Subsystem Tests : End, Status Passed
POST: No Cable found on stack port 1
POST: No Cable found on stack port 2
POST: PortASIC Stack Port Loopback Tests : Begin
POST: PortASIC Stack Port Loopback Tests : End, Status Passed
POST: PortASIC Port Loopback Tests : Begin
POST: PortASIC Port Loopback Tests : End, Status Passed
Election Complete
Switch 1 booting as Master
Waiting for Port download...Complete
This product contains cryptographic features and is subject to United
States and local country laws governing import, export, transfer and
use. Delivery of Cisco cryptographic products does not imply
third-party authority to import, export, distribute or use encryption.
Importers, exporters, distributors and users are responsible for
compliance with U.S. and local country laws. By using this product you
agree to comply with applicable laws and regulations. If you are unable
to comply with U.S. and local laws, return this product immediately.
A summary of U.S. laws governing Cisco cryptographic products may be found at:
http://www.cisco.com/wwl/export/crypto/tool/stqrg.html
If you require further assistance please contact us by sending email to
export@cisco.com.
cisco WS-C3750G-12S (PowerPC405) processor (revision R0) with 131072K bytes of memory.
Processor board ID CAT1125ZKHZ
Last reset from power-on
1 Virtual Ethernet interface
12 Gigabit Ethernet interfaces
The password-recovery mechanism is enabled.
512K bytes of flash-simulated non-volatile configuration memory.
Base ethernet MAC Address : 00:1C:B0:2F:D1:00
Motherboard assembly number : 73-9678-07
Power supply part number : 341-0048-03
Motherboard serial number : CAT11255C25
Power supply serial number : LIT11140GE6
Model revision number : R0
Motherboard revision number : B0
Model number : WS-C3750G-12S-E
System serial number : CAT1125ZKHZ
Top Assembly Part Number : 800-26634-04
Top Assembly Revision Number : A0
Version ID : V06
CLEI Code Number : CNM81W0GRB
Hardware Board Revision Number : 0x06
Switch Ports Model SW Version SW Image
* 1 12 WS-C3750G-12S 12.2(55)SE10 C3750-IPSERVICESK9-M
This message serves as a warning to the US government that they cannot get away ^with having their own citizens
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stalked, kidnapped, tortured, brain damaged and murdered by foreign intelligence ^ agencies .
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Request an investigation by the German government and the Council of Europe!
^
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Location of Turkish President Erdogan's illegal black site for terror suspects i ^n G ermany: 48.345941, 12.137753
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Is the CIA stalking and murdering ISIS terror suspects?
^
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Microwave weapons, group stalking and harassment ("gangstalking"), neurotoxins, ^hitmen, an illegal Turkish black site, Delta Force, and an airport kidnapping: A
true story
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QUOTES
^
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"If you were in the US, the CIA would just shoot you, we are nice so we will ^ commit you to a hospital instead" - Turkish police officer
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"When you get deported to the US, don't piss off the CIA officers like you d ^id with Erdogan (the Turkish president)" - Man at KBO Taufkirchen Station A2
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"The doctors here are trying to protect us from the psychos up at the top" - ^ Woman a t KBO Taufkirchen Station A2
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"You're lucky that the Turks got you first. With the Germans it would have b ^een wors e. The Turks usually don't kill" - Woman at KBO Taufkirchen Station A2
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NOTES
^
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Anyone with access to Europol or INTERPOL should be able to confirm that the ^ FBI se nt out a request/warning in 2017. You might not be able to view the detai
ls of this request unless you have the right handling code/password
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Nothing shows up for my name when it's searched in Law Enforcement Enterpris ^e Port al (LEEP). This is deliberate as the FBI is hiding my records to cover up
the terrorism investigation and everything else.
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The Federal Criminal Police Office (Bundeskriminalamt) and Bavarian State Po ^lice bo th refuse to start an investigation due to political reasons, despite the
fact that many other people, mostly Turkish citizens, were kidnapped within Ger
many by fake po
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ice and brain damaged at the black site.
^
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I (John Erin Binns / CIA code name RAVEN) have been an ISIS terror suspect since ^ 2017.
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It began when an FBI Confidential Human Source whom I met online (Azaiah Crosswh ^ite / moda) gave my Skype account to his handler. The FBI then sent an administr
ative subpoena to Microsoft and obtained my email address, which I had previousl
y reused on my
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S passport application in 2016. An alert was also sent through the Europol Infor ^mation System to 16 countries in Europe stating that I was a terror suspect.
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On October 11, 2017, Arthur Gong from the US Department of Homeland Security int^errogated me about allegedly travelling to Latakia, Syria while I was waiting to
board a flight from London Heathrow Airport to Chicago Airport. When my plane l
anded in Chicag
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, I was flagged for secondary screening (See Exhibit A) and asked more questions^. My citizen ship was questioned, and the CBP officer got angry after I told him
that not answering his questions doesn't make me inadmissible to the US.
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In early 2018, I left the United States and moved to Turkey. Soon after, strange ^ things s tarted happening to me. Kenneth Currin Schuchman (Nexus Zeta), a dual F
BI/CIA informant who was given a pound of heroin by federal agents to inform on
me, attempted t
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entrap me on child pornography and terrorism charges while I was drunk.
^
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Schuchman tried persuading me into buying Stinger missiles and guns from a Tor w ^ebsite wh ich would be shipped in "xray proof boxes" (those don't even exist) to
my location. When that failed, he tried getting me to open a website which likel
y had exploit c
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de on it (he specifically told me to open it in Chrome) and then told me that he ^ knew of some good "Tor porn sites". When I asked him what type of porn was on t
hese websites, Schuchman replied that they contained child porn.
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Then, Schuchman told me in a call that Dingle/Drake/Logan Shwydiuk was going to ^come to my house and kill me, and asked me what I'd do if he came to my house. I
was drunk at the time, and I told Schuchman that I'd kill Shwydiuk. I suspect t
hat Schuchman w
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s recording this call for the FBI so that they could use it as evidence against ^me in a fabricated terrorism investigation.
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Around this time, I noticed that two Western males wearing white shirts and sung ^lasses wou ld frequently visit an apartment building behind the one I live in.
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Several days after I reported Schuchman to the DEA for selling heroin and right ^after he t ried entrapping me on computer fraud charges, he was indicted in the D
istrict of Alaska.
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That's when the harassment started...
^
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My phone was hacked by Turkish intelligence/MIT using some type of 0-click SMS R ^CE and GPS tracking spyware was planted on it. My phone's GPS feature would turn
on without my consent, and several minutes later, a flash mob of "street thugs"
would be block
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ng the sidewalk and shouting death threats at me. Sometimes, they'd just walk up ^ to me hold ing their cell phone in one hand and screaming death threats at the s
ame time. (Street theateGangstalking)
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I received more death threats than I can count, probably close to 100 from diffe ^rent sta lkers over the course of a few months.
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Now about the Western males: I saw them wearing night vision goggles on several ^occasions, they'd constantly harass me and illegally surveil me on Turkish terri
tory up until I called the police.
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Harassment from CIA contractors:
^
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I woke up and a male was pointing a microwave oven with the door removed at ^my sl eeping body from my neighbor's balcony. I was actually half-awake with my e
yes open and I could see the guy bringing the oven out onto the balcony and plug
ging it into an
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extension cable. Another time, somebody pointed a microwave oven magnetron with ^a metal ho rn at my body to shock me (I saw this as well). The neighbor was on va
cation and the men were not authorized to be in that unit, so they likely broke
in using lockpi
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king equipment.
^
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A red laser pointer was shined into my room using a gun scope from my neighb ^or's first floor unit. I went out onto my balcony and saw a guy doing this. When
the guy saw me, he quickly closed the blinds and started laughing. The unit was
being renovate
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at the time and the men were not authorized to be there.
^
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A microwave weapon was pointed at my head which caused me to black out momen ^taril y and see white flashes of light. The same device would cause me to feel ex
tremely paranoid and make my heart rate speed up. I remember that it had buttons
and a cord. It
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was about the size of a small desktop computer.
^
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Somebody was pointing a laser microphone at my bedroom window from the same ^first f loor unit. I was in a telephone call with someone else, and Azaiah Crossw
hite started repeating parts of this conversation back to me over Snapchat as an
intimidation/g
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slighting tactic. Crosswhite also got private pictures from my bedroom and poste ^d them on h is Snapchat story.
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Window/door slamming: This would happen constantly whenever I was in my bedr ^oom or o ut on my balcony. Sometimes one of the guys would slam a window/door and
microwave me right after it happened.
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Sabotage: The phone lines in my apartment building and the entrance door cab ^le wer e both cut.
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Use of pulsed energy projectile weapons: I saw one of the guys holding a gun ^-shap ed device, when he fired it, a ball of energy came out of the weapon and ma
de the windows in my bedroom shake.
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Information: The microwave weapons that are used by intelligence agencies to ^day co nsist of: a millimeter wave amplifier, a transmitter with extremely low fr
equency amplitude modulation, batteries, and a horn antenna/waveguide. Using dif
ferent modulati
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n frequencies, effects such as tachycardia, panic attacks, epileptic seizures, p ^aranoia, REM sleep can be induced. They are the perfect tool for covert harassme
nt as they leave no trace. See Exhibit B for a picture of a microwave weapon.
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Azaiah Crosswhite would make comments over Discord such as "[the CIA] are going ^to send me a copy of your destruction video", "your name is Cock Sucker", and "y
our code name is RAVEN". He'd also encourage me to murder the people who were ha
rassing me, go
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n a mass shooting spree, or commit suicide.
^
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These are all goals of the government stalking program which I was a victim of, ^according t o an article by Julianne McKinney, who is a former US army intelligen
ce officer and member of the Association of National Security Alumni. See: https
://www.bibliote
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apleyades.net/sociopolitica/esp_sociopol_mindcon28.htm .
^
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I called the police a few days before July 1, 2019. When the officers came, one ^of them s aid that I "talk too much" and that I should "keep [my] mouth shut".
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Then, intense microwave harassment started. I would hear footsteps in the unit a ^bove mine a nd my sleep would be disrupted due to the weapon that Turkish intelli
gence was using on me.
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On July 1, 2019, a man I didn't know started asking me questions such as "If som^ebody was ca ught selling illegal alcohol, what political party would that person
be from?". He also made comments implying that I had been under surveillance by
Turkish intell
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gence for a while, and warned me that the Turkish government had prepared a trap^ for me.
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Several minutes later, an elderly man from my neighborhood named Ozkan came and ^asked me i f I was the "exit/cikis". (exit/cikis is a term for the illegal killin
g of a terrorist by Turkish intelligence). He took me to his apartment and told
me to visit Kon
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k Ferry Station. I went to Bostanli Ferry Station and boarded a ferry to Konak. ^After the ferry started going to Konak, I overheard 3 men in a row near me talki
ng about how they were hired to kill me and that they'd dump my body in the ocea
n because I was
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allegedly an ISIS member.
^
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Once the ferry arrived at Konak, I immediately got a random person to dial 112 a^nd faked hav ing medical problems. An ambulance came to the ferry station, and I
was taken to Alsancak Nevvar Salih Isgoren Hospital. I told the emergency room d
octors that the
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e was nothing wrong with me, they ran my ID card through the emergency room comp ^uter, and my name came up as a wanted terrorist.
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I overheard the doctors talking about the fact that Azaiah Crosswhite's name cam ^e up on t he emergency room computers and that my name was changed to "Cock Sucke
r" in some type of database which they had access to.
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Police lights shined into the emergency room and I heard sirens as around 5 poli ^ce cars came to the hospital along with Turkish intelligence. I was given 2 inje
ctions of haldol, and a guy next to my bed who worked for Turkish intelligence c
alled somebody
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n his cell phone whom he referred to as "Erdogan". Maybe it was the Turkish pres ^ident? I don't know..
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The doctors kept me in the hospital until the next morning and I was then releas ^ed.
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Several days later, I was in Gultepe, Konak, at a relative's house, and people w ^ere firing gunshots into the air while somebody would use a microwave weapon to
make me feel like my head was going to explode. I saw people on a nearby rooftop
, they had guns
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(which they were constantly firing) and camouflage clothing. Whenever I'd get mi^crowaved, my phone would lose cell service and the camera would blur.
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While this was happening, I tried to contact somebody I barely knew who worked a^t the US Dep artment of Justice for help.
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As soon as I had a mental breakdown due to the constant gunfire and microwaving, ^ the gunfir e and microwave attacks immediately stopped. Two street thugs then at
tacked me (I believe that Turkish intelligence paid them money to do this) and p
revented me fro
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going home in a taxi.
^
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I called the police and they came rather quickly. When one of the police officer ^s looked up the information on my ID card through a mobile app on his phone, he
saw something in the police database. I was told by a Turkish police officer: "I
f you were in t
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e US, the CIA would just shoot you, we are nice so we will take you to a hospita ^l instea d". Fortunately, there were no beds available at the local hospital so I
was allowed to go home in a taxi.
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After I went home, the microwave harassment continued, and I went to Cesme a few ^ days later . The harassment continued there as well.
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I decided that I had to leave the country as the Turkish secret services were ag ^gressive ly pursuing me. On July 6, 2019, I boarded flight PC1019 from Sabiha Gok
cen Airport to Munich Airport. About 30 minutes after my flight took off, I noti
ced that the ma
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e and female in the row behind my seat were talking about me. The female was say ^ing that i t was sad that they had to kill me with a poison needle and that my re
al name wasn't given to them by MIT for security reasons. I immediately notified
a cabin crew m
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mber of their plot, and I was taken to another seat.
^
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The cabin crew member assured me that the German police had been notified, but o ^nce the pla ne landed, she grabbed me by my arm and told me to listen to my mothe
r while warning me not to contact the German police. I believe that she was affi
liated with MIT
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I gave a member of the Bundespolizei (immigration police) a piece of paper expla ^ining tha t I was being harassed with a microwave gun by Turkish intelligence, bu
t I was not given the opportunity to tell the Bundespolizei my full story. A fak
e Bavarian Stat
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Police officer then came and took me past immigration to the police station. I ^was pu t in a cell, and I noticed that all of the "officers" were speaking Turkis
h, ALL of them. I strongly suspect that an insider within the police force let T
urkish intellig
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nce into the station. I don't know if that insider is the commissar or someone e ^lse.
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One of them was calling me stupid in Turkish, and they were all discussing what ^they should do with me. "Ausganging"/killing me was discussed as an option, but
the fake police eventually decided to send me to a mental hospital. I was given
some forms to s
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gn, and I had no idea where I was being taken at the time. I signed the paperwor^k as I didn' t want to get ausganged/killed. I then heard the fake police discuss
ing in Turkish that I was lucky to be going to a mental hospital, as they usuall
y kill ISIS sus
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ects.
^
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A few minutes after I boarded the ambulance, I realized that something was wrong ^. A male and female who were in the ambulance with me started talking about my a
lleged cybercrimes and about somebody named Rosenberg who "wanted blood". Once t
he ambulance ar
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ived at KBO Taufkirchen Station A2 (48.345941, 12.137753), the same fake police ^officer who took me past immigration told the staff to fry my brain with gas and
that I'd then be transported to Anchorage International Airport.
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Then, four Turkish men came and forcibly put me in the neurotoxic gas room (whic ^h doubles a s a suicide watch room). My shoes were taken off (so that I couldn't
break down the door and escape), and a worker activated a metal fan. A gas which
smelled like f
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rmaldehyde then started to come out of the fan. I saw graffiti on the walls of t ^he gas roo m, all of the names that were carved into the walls were Turkish, and
I realized that I was at some type of illegal Turkish black site on German terri
tory. During th
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s time, Turkish intelligence was livestreaming the gas room camera to a group of ^ CIA i nformants (Azaiah Crosswhite, Jared Fazah, Justin Anglin) as a "destructio
n video". Azaiah Crosswhite had previously stated "[the CIA] are going to send m
e a copy of you
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destruction video".
^
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Jared Fazah had taken a $500,000 Bitcoin bribe to sell me out a few days before ^I was kidnap ped, while Justin Anglin is a CIA agent who has previously been to I
ran and other middle eastern countries. They were all talking about the livestre
am in a Discord
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server, sadly I don't have any screenshots as they were mysteriously deleted fro ^m my com puter (it may have been hacked).
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One hour after I was put in the gas room, a staff member came and turned off the^ fan in my r oom. This is the only reason why I don't suffer from brain damage to
day. I was saved by that staff member.
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About 3 hours after I was put in the gas room, I heard a helicopter hovering abo ^ve the fake mental hospital. This helicopter may have belonged to the US militar
y, but at the time I thought it belonged to the Bundeskriminalamt (Federal Crimi
nal Police Offi
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e) and that they were coming to save me.
^
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I banged on the door of the gas room and screamed for the police to come and sav ^e me, but nobody came.
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In the early morning hours of July 7, 2019, a Turkish doctor came into the room ^with a f lashlight. She commented aloud in Turkish that "[I] was made to rot". Th
en, a female CIA agent came into the room with my mother while I was pretending
to be mentally
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isabled. The doctors brought me chocolate milk and pizza, and the CIA agent star ^ted talkin g about how I'd be indicted by a grand jury in the District of Alaska
and forced into a plea deal for over 10 years in prison. That I'd be found menta
lly incompetent
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
and have no choice but to take the plea deal, sending me to prison for a long ti ^me.
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
The CIA agent declined to give my mother her real name and talked about previous ^ly living i n Australia. She had an Eastern European accent and told my mother to
throw away any receipts or evidence indicating that she was in the town of Tauf
kirchen, and to
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
keep her cell phone turned off.
^
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
The lady also told my mother that a US senator (I don't remember the senator's e ^xact name) wanted to meet with her. In 2018, Kenneth Currin Schuchman had told m
e that "a senator can order the killing of a US citizen in some cases" and told
one of my frien
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
s that a US senator wanted to kill me. Nobody believed him back then, including ^me. I sti ll don't know who this senator is or why he wants me killed. (Note: Ken
neth Currin Schuchman has been repeatedly thrown in mental hospitals, and his fa
ther Robert Sch
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
chman currently has guardianship over him).
^
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
The lady left and I slept for a few hours in the neurotoxic gas room/suicide wat ^ch room. Th en after I woke up, a staff member woke up and unlocked the door. I w
as allowed to leave, and that's when the torture started. An African lady was pl
aying back a re
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
ording of me in the gas room on one of the hospital computers and laughing at it^. The same l ady would also play screaming noises and the Turkish word for mental
ly retarded ("gerizekali") over a loudspeaker connected to the computer, and use
a microwave we
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
pon which looked like a stereo speaker to give me epileptic seizures. I do remem ^ber that t he weapon was brought to the hospital in a large briefcase by men work
ing for Turkish intelligence.
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
I met other people who were being held at the hospital. One lady told me "You're ^ lucky th at the Turks got you first. With the Germans it would have been worse.
The Turks usually don't kill". She also claimed to be a spy.
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
I borrowed a cell phone from one of the other patients and called the police. On ^ce I told them that I was being held at a fake mental hospital run by the Turkis
h secret services, I was told that I "belonged in [the hospital]" by a German po
lice officer an
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
they never responded to my emergency call.
^
% Invalid input detected at '^' marker.
SETUP: new interface Vlan1 placed in "shutdown" state
Press RETURN to get started!
*Mar 1 00:01:17.242: %STACKMGR-4-SWITCH_ADDED: Switch 1 has been ADDED to the stack
*Mar 1 00:01:18.752: %LINEPROTO-5-UPDOWN: Line protocol on Interface Vlan1, changed state to down
*Mar 1 00:01:20.102: %SPANTREE-5-EXTENDED_SYSID: Extended SysId enabled for type vlan
*Mar 1 00:01:54.705: %PARSER-4-BADCFG: Unexpected end of configuration file.
*Mar 1 00:01:54.705: %SYS-5-CONFIG_I: Configured from memory by console
*Mar 1 00:01:54.907: %STACKMGR-5-SWITCH_READY: Switch 1 is READY
*Mar 1 00:01
Switch>
Switch>:54.907: %STACKMGR-4-STACK_LINK_CHANGE: Stack Port 1 Switch 1 has changed to state DOW N
*Mar 1 00:01:54.907: %STACKMGR-4-STACK_LINK_CHANGE: Stack Port 2 Switch 1 has changed to sta te DOWN
*Mar 1 00:01:55.183: %STACKMGR-5-MASTER_READY: Master Switch 1 is READY
*Mar 1 00:01:55.477: %SYS-5-RESTART: System restarted --
Cisco IOS Software, C3750 Software (C3750-IPSERVICESK9-M), Version 12.2(55)SE10, RELEASE SOFT WARE (fc2)
Technical Support: http://www.cisco.com/techsupport
Copyright (c) 1986-2015 by Cisco Systems, Inc.
Compiled Wed 11-Feb-15 11:40 by prod_rel_team
*Mar 1 00:01:55.511: %SSH-5-ENABLED: SSH 1.99 has been enabled
*Mar 1 00:01:56.140: %PHY-4-SFP_NOT_SUPPORTED: The SFP in Gi1/0/8 is not supported
*Mar 1 00:01:56.140: %PM-4-ERR_DISABLE: gbic-invalid error detected on Gi1/0/8, putting Gi1/ 0/8 in err-disable state
*Mar 1 00:01:56.173: %GBIC_SECURITY_CRYPT-4-VN_DATA_CRC_ERROR: GBIC in port Gi1/0/12 has bad crc
*Mar 1 00:01:56.173: %PM-4-ERR_DISABLE: gbic-invalid error detected on Gi1/0/12, putting Gi1 /0/12 in err-disable state
*Mar 1 00:01:56.719: %LINK-5-CHANGED: Interface Vlan1, changed state to administratively dow n
Switch>en
Switch#conft
Translating "conft"...domain server (255.255.255.255)
% Unknown command or computer name, or unable to find computer address
Switch#show run
Building configuration...
Current configuration : 988 bytes
!
version 12.2
no service pad
service timestamps debug datetime msec
service timestamps log datetime msec
no service password-encryption
!
hostname Switch
!
boot-start-marker
boot-end-marker
!
!
!
!
no aaa new-model
switch 1 provision ws-c3750g-12s
system mtu routing 1500
vtp domain Null
vtp mode transparent
!
!
!
!
!
!
!
!
spanning-tree mode pvst
spanning-tree extend system-id
!
vlan internal allocation policy ascending
!
vlan 61
name fttx
!
!
!
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/1
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/2
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/3
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/4
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/5
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/6
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/7
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/8
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/9
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/10
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/11
!
interface GigabitEthernet1/0/12
!
interface Vlan1
no ip address
shutdown
!
ip classless
ip http server
ip http secure-server
!
!
!
!
!
line con 0
line vty 5 15
!
end

Please tell me what you think and if there's anything else you'd add. My mom is also a teacher and sometimes I cannot believe the stories she tells. In retrospect, I probably should've had him holding Takis and a cell phone. Maybe for version 2.0 haha.

hi sorry this is my first reddit post im sorry if im doing anything wrong. is it ok to be afraid of my mother? ive been shaking and crying for the past 10 mins because i lost my phone, i dont really care about losing my phone but i worry that my mum will be mad at me. i cant ask her foranytging as well because likw i think im just being a bother to her and i dont want to be a burden to her. shes to busy for me anywyas i keep googling if its normal to be afraid of my mother in generl since i also feel like throwing up and crying wheneever im with her.
The results say that its probbaly because of abused but thats not the case my mother is a sweet and loving person she would never hurt me whenever she is mad at me its my own fault because im really incomptent and a waste. shes a great mother i never understand why my frinds tell me shes a bad person whenever i talk aboit her. iis it normal to have your heart drop whne she calls your name?? is it ok that i start shaking and heartbat racing when im near her? plus feeling really sickly? im really sorry if im being annoying again by the way feel freee to ignore this isnt important im really sorry. im also sorry for typos im typing through teaes right now im sorry if you cant read this im sorry.

Growing my parents had rough marriage. It was fighting constantly,shouting matches that either handed in one of them crying or the cops begin called. They woudl avoid each other as much which in turn ment neglecting me since they didn’t want to be in the same room I had to pick one or none.
I hated them for that, it felt they they hated each other more than they loved me. I had to beg them for hours on end to show up and when they said yes they both wouldn’t saying they though the other one woudl show. I stopped doing so when I was around 12-14. They didn’t don’t seem to care which gutted me but what would have been the point of trying.
Well when I was 16 my dad ended up having a stroke he didn’t die and it didn’t have much negative affect on him but it was a scare, my mom for the first time was crying I’ve ruin and holding and kissing him, I guess that’s how they started to “reconnect.” Because they started trying to pretend to be a good couple and goof parents which pissed ‘‘em off.
they tried apologizing and tried showing up for me but quickly stopped when she got pregnant with my baby brother. Then now they were the perfect parents they showed up were affectionate everything I wanted he got so easily. I fucking hated him and even now though it’s not his fault I can’t stand him.
I didn’t bond with him which “sadden” my parents but I didn’t care, I went to college to another country and cut contact with them.
Now our contact is minimal more for my kids(4 of them) but not a lot. They don’t commute here and I’m not going to lose hours making money for them so it’s strained which my mom makes comment all the times about “wanting to see her grandkids.” But she can just come here is she wants whenever I tell her this she says they can’t afford it and expect me to pay which I would never.
Now onto the problem, last January i bough a really big family home 6 bed 4 baths my kids and wife love it it’s beside really nice schools and is a gorgeous house, it has an in law suit which most of these houses have.
My parents and brother didn’t find out till last week/I keep my life offline and the house looks similar to our old one so looking at my wife’s socials you’d think it’s the same one.
When they did found out they were shocked and pretended to be happy for me for a bit before they started complaining about all their health issues they were facings, I told them if they think I’ll move them in their stupid. That sent them off and they called me heartless and cold for still holding all those “past mistakes” onto them. My mom asked if I was fine knowing she could die and my kids wouldn’t be able to say bye to her i told her that’s her own problem.
I told them they have their perfect son right there and they can only expect him to take care of them never me. Kept yelling and I just cut the phone. I’ve ignored their calls and messages.
My wife is on my side, I told my friends and some of them think I’m begin fo cruel to them, aita?

I 35 M will try to not be all over the place but bare with me. I think I really messed up. About 7 months ago my wife 29F found out some news about herself. She has always had a strained relationship with her mother (sheila), she grew up being abused in almost every way you can think of. How she turned into the well rounded person she is today amazes me. Her bio father (tom) was never there as well. The news she found out was the man she thought was her bio dad isn't. Not only did she find out that, she found out her actual father lived an hour away. He had/has no idea about her. She also found out that Tom (who was married to Sheila when they had my wife) is a war hero who fought in desert storm and the reason he stepped out of her life is cause he never recovered from his ptsd. He would sleep walk and grab weapons and would patrol their house. Any noises or even being startled sends him into a panic. Still to this day.
Now this is where i messed up. My wife has not wanted any physical touch. No cuddling, no sex, no long hugs. She's told me multiple times that she's struggling and didn't think it was possible for her mother to hurt her more. It's been 7 months of barely any contact, although she's been assuring me that she loves me and couldn't thank me enough for being patient. Expect I haven't. I don't know why but I couldn't get the thought that she's cheating out of my head. Cause we've never been this long without sex. Besides this she hasn't changed too much. She'll go to show me a funny video and just hand me her phone, she leaves her phone on the bed when she showers or just leaves it lying around anywhere. The other night for some reason I couldn't sleep and went through her phone. She does have male friends but i read nothing inappropriate. Even found out she talks about me often and even recently told her (married) male best friend that she didn't know she could love me more with how understanding I've been. These 2 have been friends since single digit age. Never been more than friends and in fact she introduced him to his wife. So i just felt stupid for snooping and when I put her phone back I accidentally woke her up and ended up telling her what I was doing and was just scared she was cheating. She didn't get mad. I wished she would of gotten mad. Instead I saw what looked like heart break. She told me she'd never cheat. That she would never do anything in her control to ever hurt me and that she's just struggling mentally. I fully believe her now. I can't believe I would even think she would. The only thing that made me think it was the physical distance.
It's been 3 days and things aren't the same. I've never seen her this depressed. She just goes to work comes home eats then sleeps. Besides the day she had therapy. She's been going weekly since she found out.
My parents marriage ended cause my mom cheated and I let my own crap get to me. What can I do or say to fix this?
I do not want to lose her. She's the most outstanding and strongest person I've ever met but I feel like I set her over the edge and she's just a shell of herself. I'm so stupid. I just need to figure out how to fix this. She's been through enough pain. When we got serious she had me to go her therapy appointment with her where she explained her upbringing and I cried. I thought of her going through what she did kills me and it kills me more that I added to that hurt. I just want to fix this.
TL;DR I thought my wife could be cheating when she was mentally struggling and now I think I pushed her away for good.

Hey everyone! I unfortunately can’t go to anime expo, it’s not feasible for me in many ways. Anyway, my favorite manga is Dandadan and I saw that they are having a world premiere there! I’m guessing there will be some really cool, exclusive goods to be released there that I will obviously miss out on. If anyone is able to get extra that they would be willing to sell, please reach out! I would also love an autograph of course, but I feel like that’s a hard ask. Shion Wakayama’s signature would be a big want! I also am aware that Okarun’s VA is probably near impossible because of Hanae’s popularity lol.
But any fellow fans, please reach out if you are willing!! Thank you!!

It’s been almost two years now and I still think of the time with the blanket of clouds and the moon. We were on the phone like we had been everyday and you saw the most beautiful moon which looked to be covered in a blanket of clouds. As you described the beauty before you I secretly wished I could experience it with you.
The next morning I had to be up before the sun, as I exited my house I looked up and saw the big beautiful moon with the blanket of clouds. I snapped a picture in disbelief. As we slept the universe rearranged the night sky so I could experience the same awe, beauty, and splendor you did.
It was in that moment I knew all I needed to know about us. Whether we reconnect again or not I will always hold that love for you, because I will always remember the night with the blanket of clouds and the moon.

Hello fellow Fuji shooters. Is it just me or do a lot of these X100VI photo posts look like pictures that can be somewhat achieved on a iPhone?
I feel like a big chunk of photos that I’ve seen are achievable on a iPhone, especially when you see images on social media mostly because these photos seem to lack depth. (Depth as in texture and general quality - these photos just seem flat, like a iPhone, if that makes sense?)
This might sound contradictory, but I’m also not trying to say that the images or the camera itself is bad. I actually love the idea of this camera and I enjoy a lot of the photos I’ve seen from it… I guess I sort of expected to see more exciting images and I didn’t expect myself to compare a lot of these images to a phone, ya know what I mean?
Some people have provided full res photos and well… I can’t explain it, but it feels like the focus is either slightly off or the photos themselves don’t look like it’s from a 40MP sensor. I have however seen the odd photo that looks super crisp and full of depth and texture that don’t look achievable on a iPhone for example, but typically, that’s because it’s a super close up snap of a flower or something.
Curious to see if I’m the only one that thinks this. But also, you lucky users who’ve got your hands on one a few months back, are you impressed with it?
I pre ordered mine almost three months ago (still waiting UK) but honestly, because of the long wait and during that time, I’ve seen lots and lots of videos and posts about it and I’m sort of underwhelmed by it now and I’ve also seen a fair chunk of early adopters seem to be underwhelmed by it too. I’m now looking into alternatives instead.
Maybe I just want a XPro4.
What’s your thoughts? Cheeersss

Hi all, I am just as confused as everyone by the events of today. I want to just suggest some patience before jumping to conclusions.
Take a breather, go for a run, turn of your phone, meditate, jerk off, get back to work, do whatever you gotta do to forget about this for a day.
The bull thesis still stands, DRSing is still on the table, nothing has changed and we do not know the reasoning behind issuing this latest ATM share offering, however, Larry Cheng's tweets are reassuring. I don't think we will have a full picture for a few weeks.
Hold strong, love y'all.

The woman I was dating at the time, who first alerted me that I'd been posted, told me that "her friend" sent her the screenshots. She thought the group was gross and would never do something like that. I am still grateful for her telling me, even though it was three months after I was first posted and two months after we'd started dating. She claimed she decided to show me as soon as she found out because I didn't behave in any of the ways the post said I behaved, and she could tell the poster was lying and out to get me. The posts were extremely personal, libelous and serious. I was devastated when she read it to me over the phone. A few weeks later I asked her for screenshots so I could file a lawsuit and she sent them. We mutually and politely decided to part ways not long after because I was ready for exclusivity and she was not. I'd given it three months and we'd come up against a boundary.

Here's the interesting part.

A: I could see her little profile image even though she hadn't commented because she had expanded the comments. So I knew it was her and not her friend, which was surprising.
B: I knew the date of the post, which was several months ago by this point.
C: You can see in the screenshot how long ago something was posted. The first comment, which is where most of the defamation and doxing happened, said 4W.
So she took the screenshot right around the time we first started dating, which was already a month after it had been posted, and didn't tell me for another two months, at which point she lied about how and when she got them. She knew all this stuff about me the whole time (CREEPY AS FUCK!). Some of the dirt was true-ish but had nothing to do with women's safety and was deeply personal and embarrassing (especially in how they were twisted). Some of the statements were just total fabrications. Some were serious (and false) allegations and insinuations. Most were just extremely biased and twisted from reality.
And yet she held on to that information (poweweapon) for two months before telling me, a guy she had already been alone with in a cabin in the woods for days at a time. It was far more than long enough for her to figure out that I wasn't the person my ex said I was. She claimed to care for me while keeping from me the fact that 30,000 people could see these terrible things being said about me. No other woman said anything bad. It was just one ex. One woman did stick up for me, but barely: "I know him. Good guy". This person I had been dating for two months knew I wasn't that guy, had never done or said anything to make her think I was, and yet she didn't go in there and stick up for me, and she didn't tell me so I could try to get it removed.

This whole thing has destroyed my trust in women.

In hindsight, I can see all the ways she used that to her advantage, like using it to manipulate me. I can also see why sometimes she'd say or ask things that didn't make sense in context, but which make total sense now.

It was all about power.

By the way: This same woman also got divorced because she cheated on her husband of 15 years (and father of their two children) while out at a bar with her friends one night. She told me it was the husband's fault for not keeping the love alive, and it was just her way of ending the marriage. She was the victim. Of course. But do you see me posting her name and photo all over the internet to "warn men" about her? No, because that's not my fucking business.

I’ve (26M) struggled with depression and some suicidal ideation on and off since I was 16. It was a long road and took a lot of work on myself and countless hours of therapy, but around the end of 2023, I was in what I now consider to be the peak of my life. I was working a job I mostly liked, two semesters away from finishing my bachelor’s degree online and exercising almost every other day. After years of loneliness, I finally found a friend group I really adored spending time with, and I had a boyfriend with whom I hadn’t even realized I had fallen in love, whom I’d seen for about 6 months. For perhaps the first time, I had a generally positive outlook, I felt confident and attractive, and I had so much going for me. I had no clue that I was about to make a decision that would significantly alter that course and steer me off into the deepest, darkest depression and most relentless desire to end it all that I’ve ever felt. This is a very long and personal post about my decision to have surgery that I now, in hindsight, believe to have been unnecessary. The surgery itself has left me with chronic pain and probably lifelong negative consequences that are far worse than anything I ever experienced prior. I’ve kept most of this to myself other than sharing it with my therapist, and although I’m on the ledge, I think writing it all down and putting it out there may calm me somewhat. I haven’t spared some graphic details of some of the more sensitive changes to my body because I want this to be as detailed and accurate as possible. And anyway, why should I care? I may be dead soon anyway... My hope is that if I share my story, someone, somewhere, might benefit from it and might not make the same mistake I did that has me sincerely wanting to off myself. So here it goes.
Around NovembeDecember 2023, I started experiencing some strange stabbing pain in my upper right abdomen that would come on suddenly and then go away for no obvious reason. I also thought I saw trace amounts of blood in my stool, and this concerned me enough that I reached out to my primary care doctor at the beginning of January. My doctor is always booked for months, so they told me to go to the emergency room. The ER was packed, and I ended up sitting in the waiting room for about eight hours in between going for an ultrasound and a CT scan. I was getting very tired of waiting and was about ready to give up and leave as I had to work early in the morning the next day. Looking back, I wish I had left. Just before I was about to leave, they called me back and told me that they found something on the CT scan called an intussusception in my small bowel. This is a condition where the intestine gets caught on a “lead point” and folds in on itself, sort of like a telescope. It is most often found in infants and is very rarely found in people my age, yet I was told it is a medical emergency because the tissue of my bowel could die if left untreated, and/or the lead point could be a potentially cancerous tumor. They admitted me and told me they would scan me again in the morning because, despite the severity, there was a chance it could resolve. Hearing that I would be staying overnight shocked me, as I had never been hospitalized before, having always been in good physical health. I have never had digestive issues in the past, I’ve never been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease or ulcerative colitis or anything of the sort, and I had never heard of this condition, but every medical professional I spoke to seemed very concerned that I had it. They didn’t have a bed for me in the hospital at that point, so I had to sleep in the packed and quite chaotic ER. About an hour after I was given a bed, a man was admitted a few feet from me who was very aggressive with all of the nurses, screaming and cursing at them throughout the night. I was not allowed to eat or drink, given the possibility of surgery. I struggled to get any sleep in that environment and woke up the next morning feeling very lethargic.
The surgeon and resident came by my bed and we spoke briefly. The surgeon explained that while the condition was serious, if it continued to show up in my CT scans, they could do minimally invasive laparoscopic surgery to resect the piece of my bowel that was telescoped and stitch it back together. I feel they really downplayed the severity of this procedure. I will never forget them saying, “It’s such a small piece of your bowel, you won’t miss it.” They felt that since I was young and otherwise healthy, I should have no problem making a full recovery. I felt confident in the fact that I was speaking to the chief of surgery at the hospital, who has more than twenty years of experience in the field. Then they brought me for my second scan, and within a few hours I was told the intussusception had not resolved. I was admitted to a hospital room, and the resident came to discuss moving forward with the surgery. My first impulse was “absolutely not,” but I quickly second-guessed myself. Everything I saw in the limited research I was able to do on my phone stated that this was indeed a serious condition that warranted surgery. In that moment, it seemed like the reasons not to go through with it were somewhat vain, such as not wanting the scars and having to forgo lifting weights at the gym for some time. Though it didn’t quite make sense to me that they wanted to operate on the complete opposite side of my body from the one that was in pain and which brought me into the ER in the first place. When I asked the resident about this, he responded, “We don’t understand how referred pain works,” Okay, fair enough, I thought. More than anything, I thought that if a doctor was in front of me, telling me what was going on with my body was an emergency situation that warranted immediate surgery, I should probably listen to them. They’re the “experts,” after all. And given the state I was in, having been in the hospital for over 24 hours at that point, running on very little sleep and nothing to eat, I don’t think I really had the capacity to fully parse what was going on, but given the doctors level of concern, it seemed like I urgently had to make a decision. After about an hour of talking it over with my mother, even though I never had any pain in the area they were about to operate on, I signed the consent papers. (Biggest fucking mistake of my life) I remember they listed risks of things that could go wrong during or shortly after the surgery, such as infection, bowel perforation, etc. They did not mention the procedure’s possible long-term consequences, and neither the surgeon nor resident ever mentioned possible long-term complications, and I didn’t think to ask. I had no experience with this kind of thing whatsoever; I am not a doctor, I don’t know any doctors, and no one I know has ever had abdominal surgery… I was so naive to trust these people, but I did. In fact, I trusted them so much that I was not terribly scared of the procedure I was about to undergo. Again, I chalk that up to the reduced mental capacity I was in, given a tough overnight stay in the ER. I remember the adrenaline rush as I was wheeled down to the operating room. I was singing one of my favorite songs in my head, hyping myself up for the procedure ahead of me. The last thing I remember was one of the OR nurses telling my mother not to worry, that the surgeon was “the best,” and that they had even operated on her husband.
I woke up high as a kite. I heard one of the nurses say I had been given fentanyl, which I remember freaked me out; I had forgotten it is more than a street drug and actually has legitimate uses. The procedure had gone fine, and I was discharged only a day or two later, with my only guidance upon discharge being not to lift heavy objects and “take it easy,” I was in some pain, but it was to be expected at that point and was well controlled by combining Tylenol and Advil. The surgeon called later that week to inform me that the pathology report had come back and that the lead point was simply “some swollen lymph nodes,” I was relieved to hear that it was not cancer. At my follow-up appointment two weeks later, I reported feeling pretty much fine. I had been granted medical leave and short-term disability from my job for six weeks following the surgery. This was the full length of time after which the surgeons expected I would recover fully. I used the time off to hang out with friends and my boyfriend and to focus on finishing what would have been my final semester of school. Those were the last few weeks that I felt somewhat normal despite what I had just gone through. I had no idea what was about to come.
About 5 weeks post-op is when I first began experiencing worse pain deep in my abdomen, right where I had the surgery, plus the pain in my upper right abdomen had not gone away. This new pain is crampy, yet sometimes stabbing, and had seemed to worsen with activity; I have experienced it every single day, nearly every hour, to varying degrees, since the beginning of February. That was also when I began regularly bloating and having difficulty going to the bathroom. No matter how hard I try to push, I can’t fully evacuate my bowels. (This is a nightmare for someone who has receptive anal sex like I used to do regularly. It is now impossible). With the emergence of all these symptoms, I felt very, very scared that there was something else wrong with me. And, of course, this all happened in the week when I was set to return to work. I have a physically demanding customer service job, and I was in so much pain that I found it impossible to be nice to the customers or even stand, so I left and, thankfully, was allowed to take the rest of the week off to figure things out. I obviously called my surgeon, but it also prompted me to do deeper research into the complications that can develop following abdominal surgery. I began pouring over medical journals, trying to figure out what was going on in my body on my own. That was when I first learned about “surgical adhesions.” These are fibrous bands of scar tissue that can develop due to the incisions made during surgery and handling of the bowel. As your body heals from the trauma of surgery, this scar tissue forms and can cause your intestine to stick to other organs or structures in your body. According to medical literature, they form in 90% of all patients who undergo abdominal surgery, but not all adhesions cause complications like what I’ve experienced. They are not easy to diagnose as they are impossible to visualize on any imaging tests, they do not go away on their own (it’s scar tissue), and the only treatment is surgically cutting them apart, which is risky, given that there’s a strong chance they will just grow back and possibly be even worse. This was obviously terrifying to me, but when I asked the surgeon about this, they said, “There’s very little chance that’s what’s happening,” given that the procedure was laparoscopic, not open. I scheduled another appointment with them, wherein they seemed quite dismissive of my concerns. They said the pain was likely “incisional” (it wasn’t and isn’t) but that they would order another CT scan so we could see what was going on. They also wrote me a script for gabapentin, an anticonvulsant meant to prevent seizures that is used off-label to treat pain and anxiety, with the qualifier that they would not write a script for anything stronger, basically implying that I was seeking narcotics, which was not at all the case, and which I found extremely offensive.
My next CT scan was scheduled about a month following that appointment in early March. In the interim, I began taking the gabapentin. I used more than I was prescribed because it was the only way I was able to control the pain and allow myself to feel comfortable at work. I didn’t anticipate the changes it would cause to my mood and behavior. In addition to feeling depressed and scared, I was also becoming easily emotionally dysregulated in ways I believe I would have been able to control prior to taking the medication. But when I didn’t take it, I was in pretty bad pain almost all the time, and I didn’t understand why at that point. My boyfriend noticed these changes in my mood and decided he needed space from me to protect his emotional wellbeing. I didn’t blame him then, and I still don’t, but I miss him terribly. We were supposed to remain “friends,” and he at least pretended he wanted that for a bit of time. At that point, I became determined to ween myself off the gabapentin and continue to work on improving my mental and physical health, for myself, but also for him; as I said, I really loved him. Later that week, after we split, I had my CT scan, and the surgeon called to tell me that it looked like I was just constipated. They advised me to take Miralax daily to ease that constipation, which should hopefully make me feel better. To me, this seemed like a huge relief. I started taking the Miralax, and at that point, I started exercising and lifting weights again. I also started trying to bulk up again, which had been an important part of my fitness journey prior to the surgery.
So April rolls around, and I am still trying my best to resume my normal life, which felt possible again at that point. I did end up successfully weening myself off gabapentin. With this newfound reinvigoration, I attempted to get my boyfriend back. We would make plans, but then he would reschedule again and again. Eventually, he kept our plans, and we met up for a talk in the park. We obviously had a lot to talk about in our relationship, at which point he told me that he simply was not attracted to me anymore. This was devastating news, as that was the first time I realized it was really over. Before I had thought that if I could show him how much I was trying to get back to the place I was before the surgery, he would stick around, but that was the moment I realized it was impossible for him to see me in the light he once did. Nevertheless, I tried to push on, kept going to the gym, and kept trying to get my life back. I was still seeing my friends regularly, and I was able to push myself to get through work, even though it was painful and hard. Plus, I was still working on my degree despite not feeling able to give it my best effort and focus with everything going on. I was still motivated to keep going, and I thought things might improve from there.
Well, lo and behold, they did not. One day in early April, I was sitting on the couch, sort of mindlessly snacking on some almonds before I was set to go have drinks with friends and see a concert. Immediately afterward, I felt that pain again in my abdomen. Despite that, I was really excited to see my friends and see the show. We met at a bar, where I had three cocktails before we made our way to the venue. I drank one or two more while the opener played. But by the time the headliner came on, I ended up in so much pain that I told my friends quite regrettably that I had to leave. I walked home and ate a small snack, wrongfully thinking it might make me feel better, before popping a melatonin and heading to bed. I woke up around 2 AM in the most intense pain I have experienced both before and after the surgery. I was extremely bloated and unable to pass gas or move my bowels. I had read somewhere that this was a sign of bowel obstruction and that I needed to seek medical attention. I made the decision to go to the ER. I walked down the stairs to leave, and as I did, I felt myself begin to vomit. Thankfully I was able to make it to the sink as I puked up what I imagine was that snack I’d had before bed. Shortly after, I arrived at the ER, this time choosing a different facility from the one where the surgeon had dismissed all of my post-surgical concerns. I was quickly admitted and given another CT scan. They confirmed my bowel was obstructed and told me they would place a tube into my nose down to my stomach to try to pump some of the blockage out. I asked the ER doctor if I was going to need to have surgery, to which he replied, “It’s a strong possibility.” This was horrifying to me. Getting the tube inserted into my nose was so painful, and I was screaming in agony the entire time. Then they gave me morphine, and I passed out. The details and timeline of that hospital stay are somewhat hazy in my mind, but I ended up being there for four days, over which I was given a “gastro graph challenge” test, wherein I was instructed to drink a contrast element which would be visualized by a series of Xrays so the doctors could monitor if anything was passing through my intestines. I met with another surgeon, whom I found to be much more attentive than my prior one, or at least simply possessing superior active listening skills. In fact, I felt that all of the staff at this second hospital were a lot more sensitive to my needs than the first. I really wish I had gone there the first time, as it’s the best hospital in the city. Add that to my long list of mistakes… Anyway.
Despite her more positive demeanor, she recommended another emergency surgery, this time a laparotomy (open) surgery to resect my bowel a second time. Her hypothesis was that the anastomosis (the medical term for the connection formed between my bowel loops during the first surgery) could be too narrow to allow food to pass through properly. I asked this new surgeon if it was possible I had adhesions causing this problem, and unlike the last one, she said, “It’s possible,” especially given that these symptoms began emerging a few weeks after the first surgery. But, like I said, they don’t really know what’s going on until they cut you open and go in there. Given that I am now much more aware of the risks of surgery and the risks of having a second procedure, I was fervently against going under the knife again. I simply couldn’t handle it. So I opted for conservative management, which meant waiting it out, taking an enema, and eventually getting back on a liquid and then solid diet. Thankfully, sitting in the hospital being NPO (Latin for nil per os - “nothing by mouth”) and taking the gastro graph made it pass eventually, and I didn’t have to have a second surgery. I was discharged from the hospital with instructions to schedule another diagnostic test called a “small bowel series,” in which they use xrays to track the amount of time it takes liquid to pass through your digestive system and to start a “low residue” diet- meaning eating very little fiber. Suddenly gone from my diet are all of the fruits and vegetables I once loved, and I can’t eat nuts or seeds (It seems to me that those almonds caused the obstruction in the first place). Basically, I’m now forced to exist on a diet of the most processed foods imaginable because although they are demonstrably unhealthy, that is all that my body is now able to safely digest.
After leaving that second hospital stay, I proceeded to delve even further into research about not only long-term abdominal surgery complications such as adhesions but also the nature of adult intussusceptions in general. I once again started furiously googling, finding results from medical journals and personal accounts from Reddit. I came to the conclusion that intussusceptions in adults, while ostensibly serious, have a strong possibility of resolving on their own, especially when they present in the small bowel, in the absence of vomiting (I never vomited before going to the hospital in January), when there is no obvious lead point (they couldn’t see it on my scans) and there is no obstruction (I was never obstructed before the surgery). Furthermore, while intussusception does present with blood in the stool, it is usually described as “currant jelly stool” (something I don’t recommend you google because it looks atrocious), which is not even close to the trace amounts of blood I saw in my own stool. (But no one ever asked, so how would I know the difference?) I never experienced any pain whatsoever in the area of my small bowel before the surgery. And yet I was told by a doctor that I was experiencing a medical emergency, which might have been caused by some malignant growth, which scared the shit out of me and made me feel at the time that immediate action was necessary. At one point, I even found a paper that attributed intussusception to cannabis use, which I had engaged in that week. In these papers, the authors highlight that these intussusceptions were transient and did not require surgical intervention. And on the point of adhesions, they are not easily diagnosed, and they are not easily treatable without surgical intervention; and said intervention is a cache 22 scenario because every time you get cut open, you risk growing back even more adhesions.
With all of this knowledge, I became absolutely distraught. I was never informed that by having this procedure performed, I would be at this increased risk of experiencing bowel obstruction. Like most people, I literally had no idea what an “adhesion” even was. What made me lose hope the most was that it seems as if doctors do these surgeries and simply ignore adhesion as a consequence because they don’t have any feasible way to prevent it or treat it without potentially creating more adhesion. So, although I was released from the hospital having avoided a second surgery, I felt more lost and hopeless than ever. I simply couldn’t cope with the realization that this would be something I would deal with for the rest of my life, something I could’ve avoided had I never agreed to get the first surgery because although I had that original pain I mentioned earlier- which has still continued to this day, it wasn’t and isn’t anything close to how excruciating the obstruction was, and it wasn’t really disrupting my life in the way the post-surgical pain has. But under the guidance of doctors, I opted to permanently alter my body, and there’s no going back. I feel so incredibly stupid for being deceived by these “medical professionals” who didn’t take the time to understand what was actually going on with me and chose to take an overly aggressive course of action that has left me permanently altered, in pain, and completely diminished my quality of life.
That week after leaving the hospital was truly the most suicidal I have ever felt. As I mentioned, I’ve dealt with suicidal ideation on and off since my adolescence. I’ve always had latent thoughts about wanting to die, wanting to escape, feeling like I’m hopeless and there’s no use trying to better myself. But this time, the desire to end my life was so much more intense. I became extremely disassociated from everything in life. In that week following my second hospitalization, there was absolutely nothing that could bring me joy. Before the surgery, I used to find deep pleasure in simply walking around my neighborhood for at least an hour every day. But I couldn’t do it anymore because walking gives me time to think, and thinking is too painful. It always leads back to the realization of the way I am now. Nothing could make me smile or laugh. I couldn’t even listen to music, one of my favorite things in the world. I became completely devoid of all emotions as my research transitioned away from my various new ailments and into ways I could end my life.
The rest of April and May passed by in a blur. Over that time, I’ve had two more appointments with the surgeons I met at the second hospital, a small bowel study (a more in-depth series of x-rays tracking the transit time of liquid through the GI tract), and a colonoscopy and endoscopy. Those have not yielded any significant findings as to what is going on, making me believe even more that all of these problems are being caused by adhesions. However, the small bowel study did reveal that my stomach is slightly herniated, which I believe is the cause of the original pain that I sought care for in the first place. At my last appointment, I was told to see a “small bowel specialist” GI doctor. But that was three weeks ago, and I haven’t even been able to get an appointment with them. I’m on a waiting list, but I imagine I’m looking at many months before I can get an appointment. I don’t know what they’re going to do for me. I don’t know that there’s anything that can be done besides more surgery, and I am very fearful about that. I fear the only way that these fucking doctors who fucked me up in the first place are going to even try to help me is if I’m obstructed again. But the changes to my diet, as much as I hate them, have kept me in a more manageable amount of pain and out of the hospital for now.
It is now June, and I am shocked that I am still here and confused about what to do now. Despite the diet, I still feel pain and discomfort at some point in the day, every single day. I think about wanting this all to end all of the time. I have not attempted again, though I did pick up another nitrogen tank, and I’ve also stockpiled a 90 day supply of my antidepressant, so at least I have the option. I am drinking two bottles of wine or half a bottle of vodka nearly every night. Alcohol is the only thing that seems to quiet my thoughts enough to get through each evening. I am sitting here in a cycle where I think about doing it, but I still feel obligated to go to work, to see my friends, and to feed my cat. My life has continued, but I don’t feel like I’m living anymore; I merely exist. I feel extremely unattractive because although I look the same as I did on the outside, I’m overcome with never ending emotional pain and turmoil on the inside. I am now unable to take care of myself and be on top of my life the way I used to be. After the second hospitalization, I dropped out of school and have no plans to continue, as I won’t need a bachelor’s degree when I’m dead. I have stopped exercising altogether, as it feels like there’s no point in trying to improve or take care of a body that has been permanently broken. Through all of this, I’ve lost much of my confidence and I feel I have completely lost my identity. I miss that old me so much. I miss my boyfriend so much. Plans with my friends are sometimes the only thing that keeps me going, and I am extremely grateful for them, but despite their continued presence, I feel extremely isolated and lonely. It’s hard to explain what I’ve been through to people without the context of all that has happened. I don’t have the energy to share it with them. And I feel if I speak about what I’m going through, I will feel like a burden, killing the vibe, and I don’t want that.
I have never felt this alienated from my body and from everything in life. I cannot cope with the fact that things will never be how they were before. I feel so incredibly distraught that I threw away what was shaping up to be the best days of my life. There’s nothing I or anyone else can do to change what has happened to me. It took me such a long time to get to the place I was in before the surgery. It was a brief and beautiful couple of months, but it’s over, and there’s no way for me to return. Even if there was, I don’t have that much of a fight left in me. I feel like such a fucking idiot for allowing the doctors to do this to me. I look around at all the happy people around me and know that I am dragging them down with my depression. I am tired of feeling helpless and like a burden on everyone I love. I am a shell of the person I once was. Ending it all is the singular thing that’s in my control. It is the only way to end all of this pain and suffering and stop the concern and confusion of my loved ones. I know that my exit will be painful to them, but they will all get over it in time. But me? I don’t think I will ever get over this. I will never be able to accept this horrible choice that I made. I am so tired of living this way. I am supposed to turn 27 soon, but I really don’t want to live to see my birthday. I have nothing to celebrate. My life is completely, irreversibly fucked. I don’t know when I will go, but it will be sooner rather than later. I am so sorry to everyone. I know this will hurt. I just can’t go on living this way. To all the people I care about, know that I love you, and I am so thankful you were part of my life. I know you will all go on to do great things without me. This entire saga has been unbearable; my life has spun out of control, and suicide is the only way to end my suffering. I’m sorry. I’m signing off.
TL;DR: Doctors performed a surgery I now think was unnecessary and the complications make me want to kill myself.

"The mentality of Las Vegas is so grossly atavistic that a really massive crime often slips by unrecognized. One of my neighbors recently spent a week in the Vegas jail for “vagrancy.” He’s about twenty years old: Long hair, Levi jacket, knapsack—an out-front drifter, a straight Road Person. Totally harmless; he just wanders around the country looking for whatever it was that we all thought we’d nailed down in the Sixties—sort of an early Bob Zimmerman trip. On a trip from Chicago to L.A., he got curious about Vegas and decided to have a look at it. Just passing through, strolling along and digging the sights on the Strip . . . no hurry, why rush? He was standing on a street-corner near the Circus-Circus, watching the multi-colored fountain, when the cop-cruiser pulled up. Wham. Straight to jail. No phone call, no lawyer, no charge. “They put me in the car and took me down to the station,” he said. “They took me into a big room full of people and told me to take off all my clothes before they booked me. I was standing in front of a big desk, about six feet tall, with a cop sitting behind it and looking down at me like some kind of medieval judge. “The room was full of people. Maybe a dozen prisoners; twice that many cops, and about ten policewomen. You had to walk out in the middle of the room, then take everything out of your pockets and put it up on the desk and then strip naked—with everybody watching you. “I only had about twenty bucks, and the fine for vagrancy was twenty-five, so they put me over on a bench with the people who were going to jail. Nobody hassled me. It was like an assembly line. “The two guys right behind me were longhairs. Acid people. They’d been picked up for vagrancy, too. But when they started emptying their pockets, the whole room freaked. Between them, they had $130,000, mostly in big bills. The cops couldn’t believe it. These guys just kept pulling out wads of money and dumping it up there on the desk—both of them naked and kind of hunched over, not saying anything. “The cops went crazy when they saw all that money. They started whispering to each other; shit, there was no way they could hold these guys for ‘vagrancy.’” He laughed. “So they charged them with ‘suspicion of evasion of income taxes.’“They took us all to jail, and these two guys were just about nuts. They were dealers, of course, and they had their stash back in their hotel room—so they had to get out before the cops found out where they were staying. “They offered one of the guards a hundred bucks to go out and get the best lawyer in town . . . and about twenty minutes later there he was, yelling about habeas corpus and that kind of shit . . . hell, I tried to talk to him myself, but this guy had a one-track mind. I told him I could make bail and even pay him something if they’d let me call my father in Chicago, but he was too busy hustling for these other guys. “About two hours later he came back with a guard and said ‘Let’s go.’ They were out. One of the guys had told me, while they were waiting, that it was going to cost them $30,000 . . . and I guess it did, but what the hell? That’s cheap, compared to what would have happened if they hadn’t got themselves sprung. “They finally let me send a telegram to my old man and he wired me 125 bucks . . . but it took sevenor eight days; I’m not sure how long I was in there, because the place didn’t have any windows and they fed us every twelve hours . . . you lose track of time when you can’t see the sun. “They had seventy-five guys in each cell—big rooms with a toilet bowl out in the middle. They gave you a pallet when you came in, and you slept wherever you wanted. The guy next to me had been in there for thirty years, for robbing a gas station. “When I finally got out, the cop on the desk took another twenty-five bucks out of what my father sent me, on top of what I owed for the vagrancy fine. What could I say? He just took it. Then he gave me the other $75 and said they had a taxi waiting for me outside, for the ride to the airport . . . and when I got in the cab the driver said, ‘We’re not making any stops, fella, and you’d better not move until we get to the terminal.’ “I didn’t move a goddamn muscle. He’d have shot me. I’m sure of that. I went straight to the plane and I didn’t say a word to anybody until I knew we were out of Nevada. Man, that’s one place I’ll never go back to.”

I was a damaged person. But I was on the mend.
I had a pretty traumatic break up with my childhood best friend, turned girlfriend. I had known her since we were 8 years old. We had been boyfriend and girlfriend since we were 13 and had been so for 9 years until my junior year of college when she cheated on me in a very cruel way. It came to light that she had cheated on me many times before as well.
I loved her so god damn much! I thought we were one of those stories where two souls were knitted together from eternity to eternity, or some hallmark card bullshit like that.
I was emotionally shattered and it took me a while until one day about 2 years later, I woke up and thought about her, but then realized that I hadn't thought about her at all the previous day. It was glorious and I knew then that I was on the mend. After that, my healing process sort of exponentially snowballed and I was back in the saddle as far as relationships went. I started going on dates and meeting up with women.
I was a software engineer working for a large corporation. Because I was good at my job, and because I didn't have a family, I was given the opportunity to move to Singapore and lead a project there for what would be a couple of years but turned out to be 7 years.
The great thing about Singapore is that they speak the "King's English" when they're not speaking "Singlish" (a patois of mostly English with funky grammar, but with Malay, Chinese, and Hindi thrown in). So I didn't have to learn a whole new language to fit in. I just had to learn how to translate Singlish to English, which wasn't too hard after a couple of months of trying. I even learned the lingo and it would amuse my coworkers a whole lot when I spoke Singlish. They thought it was hilarious.
I was a good looking guy (still am!!) but I really let myself go in my depression. I was a tall, muscular 210 pounds when I broke up with my ex, but I had ballooned up to over 300 pounds. I started a workout regimen and lost it all but the workout regimen became sort of an obsession. It was the one thing that grounded me. After I went to Singapore, one of my business perks was a gym membership at "Fitness First", a local gym franchise. I was down to my previous weight, but I had to practically camp out at the gym because the best thing about Singapore is the FOOD. The food is incredible! However, you WILL pack on the weight if you don't get your ass to the gym.
The meet cute
I was working out one day much later than normal due to some overtime on my project and I saw a girl on a treadmill. The treadmill was the one I usually use because it was in the back and kind of out of the way. The girl was stunning! The thing that stuck out to me was that she was had her hair in a pony tail through a ball cap, which is a look I find very attractive. I was a little nervous because, even though I was fairly confident about the way I look, I was definitely batting out of my league with this girl.
I went to her and chatted her up after she got off of the treadmill. She didn't look me in the eye and didn't really engage. I figured that I had acted like what is now known as a "gym creep" and I figured it was a "swing and a miss!" I apologized and said I wouldn't bother her anymore. I stuck out my hand and said "I'm OP, by the way. What's your name?"
She hesitated and looked at me for a bit and said "Lilly" (not her real name).
I remember this exactly because she later said that it was what intrigued her about me. At the time, she was an actress/model who had done some print/public billboard type ads, product demo booths at expos, and even a bit part in a local tv (Mediacorp) series. She had started to attract public attention because of these (mainly the TV show and the ads that were hanging all around town at that time) not just from men but from women too and it was super uncomfortable for her.
The fact that I had no idea who she was relaxed her and made her think that I was attracted to her for her and not because her face was everywhere at the time. After she told me about it, I did notice her face everywhere. But photoshop was a thing even back then, so I didn't recognize her from her ads and I really don't look at ads, tuning them out. I also didn't watch her TV show because it was in Mandarin Chinese and I don't speak or understand any Chinese, and I wasn't in a position where I was required to attend or arrange trade shows.
In the years prior to meeting me, Lilly had undergone a lot of plastic surgery (breast, eyelid, facial contouring, nose job, lipo, etc). She said it got to where she didn't recognize herself in the mirror and it disturbed and depressed her. She hadn't particularly wanted the surgery but she got the procedures done at the behest of her family who wanted her to bring in more money and the people in charge of her career development (don't know the term). It was all very expensive and she felt like she owed her family and the talent people who managed her.
Later, I found out that she hated the public recognition. Not just from men, but mostly from women who were really catty about her plastic surgery. The people in charge of her were pushing her to start singing but she didn't have a good voice and would need a bunch of training for that. She was depressed due to not recognizing herself in the mirror any more and didn't want to follow the career track that she had been on. They were pushing her to do more figure/body modeling which was why she was in the gym. She was SUPER uncomfortable with that and constantly hungry and pissed off.
She was afraid that she would do some more modeling and then get married off by her parents to some rich mainland Chinese man that she would be ambivalent about (she preferred Caucasian men) and she'd be forced to be a traditional pampered Chinese wife living in Beijing.(Doesn't sound that bad to me. Some of those Chinese businessmen live crazy luxurious lifestyles.
Since I was working a lot of overtime, I kept going to the gym later at night and we saw each other and I would wave and smile and she would smile and wave back. OK I was kinda hoping to meet her regularly. I spotted her on a couple of exercises and we began to chat with each other a bit. A couple of times I had to steady her because she was fainting from being hungry and working out at the same time. I used that as an excuse to take her out to a hawker center, which like a mall food court but with delicious local food (not chain restaurants). We chatted and got along really well. It became a regular thing until I confessed I had a crush on her. We started dating after that until it got to a point where she practically moved into my place.
She, of course, had her share of guys interested in her. She was on livejournal at the time (remember livejournal??) and she was doing that and posting pictures of herself for her career mostly, but I'm sure she did enjoy the attention. She had one guy from Belgium who was really after her. He actually bought her 800 thread count sheets, which is an oddly practical but vaguely inappropriate gift. He actually visited Singapore on business (he was a tech sales guy) and wanted to meet up with her in a public place, a hawker center. I still had trust issues from my previous "love of my life" betraying me. To this day, I cringe at my behavior at the time, but I laid down a clear boundary. She could absolutely go see and hang out with this guy if she wanted to, but if she did, she'd be doing it as a single available girl and we would be through. She said she saw my face "turn to stone" and it was clear that she would lose me if she went to meet up with that guy. That honestly gave her pause about our relationship and she really considered ending it at the time. I didn't know that until much later, though. Certainly, I'm glad that she didn't. She didn't go meet up with the guy. To this day, we call the incident "The Belgian Waffle". OK so I call it that, she thinks it's stupid.
Meeting her family
Eventually, Lilly asked if I could have dinner with her parents, saying that they wanted to meet me. I bought some gifts, basically Japanese cookies in really nice packaging, and then we met. I did the traditional thing and formally introduced myself and asked them about their family and history.
At the time, Lilly got some criticism from her extended family because I am a white guy. There was a certain stigma attached to local girls who liked white guys. They called those girls "SPGs" which stands for "Sarong Party Girls", a derogatory name for the prostitutes who would entertain British expats at after hours parties "back in the day".
Over the next few months, I won over her family mainly by eating their food and being accepting of their culture. I grew up in Texas, so pickled jalapenos were common in my house...like salt and pepper, we put them on everything. Later on, I was the kind of guy who put tabasco or sriracha on everything. So eating their spicy food was no problem for me. I remember us both going shopping at an open air market and seeing an older woman cutting up cili padi. I asked if I could try some. She looked at my pale face and then at Lilly and she said I could. I bit into one and chewed it up as the woman looked at me with an amused look on her face. She was waiting for me to jump up and down with fire shooting out of my mouth, I guess. I disappointed her, but she and Lilly were impressed. She later told her mother and she was impressed too. She wanted me to eat one for her as well. Oh well, trained monkey time I guess.
The real test came when I tried Durian for the first time. This is the same food that "defeated" Andrew Zimmern, the "Bizarre Foods" guy. I actually liked it. I had a D24 durian, which admittedly is like the "beginner version" of durians. There are like 16 different types. When you get past the smell and actually taste it, it doesn't smell that bad any more. It's very sweet and creamy. It's like the taste overwrites your disgust of the smell. I think that's what really impressed them to an extreme degree. They started calling me an "egg", because I was "white on the outside but yellow on the inside."
I would visit her grandmother with her. In true Chinese fashion, Lilly and her brother Johnny were raised by their paternal grandparents while their parents worked full time jobs, so her grandmother was like her mom. She was in an elder care facility at this point, though. She didn't like living there, but it was all they could afford. We would visit her every week and she'd be very happy. She didn't speak any English at all so she and Lilly would just chat speaking Hokkien Chinese while her grandmother would pet my hairy forearms like I was a dog. She was absolutely smitten with my hairy forearms.
Meeting my family
After a little over a year, I took her back to Texas to meet my family. It was quite the culture shock. Lilly was amazed by red barns and hay bales, black and white Holstein cows, things she saw in movies about the USA. She particularly was impressed by the cluster mailboxes lined up on country roads ("So cute, leh!") We actually had to stop the car and take pictures of her standing next to them, smiling goofily for the photo. I made sure to take her to the Texas hill country during spring, when the hills are covered with soft green grass and festooned with bluebonnets, sunflowers, indian paintbrushes, black eyed susans, daisies, etc. I had to practically hold her down to keep her from picking them. It's not illegal or anything, it's just frowned upon and tradition to leave them alone. OK, I let her pick some. Give me a break, I was in love with the girl.
Driving was also something that kind of boggled her mind. Texas is huge, and traveling from my parents' place to visit my brothers and their families was a seemingly endless trek. Driving from Houston to Austin, to Corpus Christi was crazy long, even with the stops to visit my relatives.
Lilly was practically agoraphobic at the big sky in Texas. She was used to being in a forest of tall concrete and steel buildings, with only strips of blue sky available at the top. In Texas that sky went from horizon to horizon. She was also amazed at the uncountable numbers of stars at night away from the city lights. She later told me it was like visiting Narnia or something.
In Texas, she got her share of looks from guys, especially in the bigger cities. I wasn't jealous. I've never been a jealous guy, although my experience with my ex "love of my life" really put my radar up, I still was proud that other guys were attracted to her. My attitude was "go ahead and eat your hearts out, she's with me!"
When she met my oldest brother, it was like a cultural thing with her, so she was very deferential and respectful. I knew that my oldest brother was attracted to her because he was stumbling and stuttering when he was speaking to her, looking at her but kind of avoiding looking at her. I wasn't too concerned because he was a married guy with 2 sons and not a scumbag, but it was still pretty amusing to see "Mr. Smooth-don't-let-em-know-you-want-em-kid" at a loss for words.
My parents met Lilly finally (she was super nervous but she did really well) and later my mom brought me aside and asked me if she should re-set her mother's diamond engagement ring. I thought about it a bit, and then told her "yes". My mom's eyes started sparkling with images of unborn grandchildren and she smiled bigger than I had ever seen her smile (kind of unsettling actually). My dad later brought me aside and basically told me I couldn't do any better and I would be a "god damn fool" if I let her get away from me. I agreed. My dad then told me something that remains with me to this day: "She will make your life sparkle, son." (she has).
Before our time in the US was up my mom gave me the ring and I asked Lilly to be my wife in a field of wildflowers, which had become her favorite place to be in Texas. She said yes. Looking back, that was one of the happiest days of my life. It was up there with losing my virginity to "the love of my life" (who turned out to be a duplicitous crazy person but at the time it was really special), my wedding day to Lilly, and the births of our children.
The Engagement
When we got back to Singapore we had to pretend we weren't engaged because I had to ask her parents for their daughter's hand in marriage. I spoke with them and explained how my prospects in my career were good. I told them that I loved their daughter and that my family also loved their daughter. We had to schedule a phone call between my parents and her parents.
I had clued my parents in as far as the traditions go. In Chinese culture, the groom pays for the wedding rather than the bride. The groom also has to give the bride's parents certain auspicious gifts. My parents luckily had done a tour of China a few years before and knew all of this beforehand, having befriended their local tour guide who was saving up money for his own wedding at the time. On the call, they agreed upon a pinjin, which is basically "betrothal money". We started to plan the Guo Da Li ceremony which would take place in 3 months time, and 3 months before the wedding.
Unfortunately life threw us a curve ball and Lilly's grandmother died. It was bittersweet because, while Lilly missed her, her grandmother had become very old and infirm to the point where her quality of life was pretty low. All wedding stuff was put on hiatus until the funeral was over plus 100 days for mourning.
After that, we were able to do the Guo Da Li ceremony. I gave my future in laws a red packet of money plus special cakes and 12 mandarin oranges and gold jewelry. It all went very well.
Wedding planning started in earnest. I got some money from my dad (who insisted) but the lion's share was out of my pocket. During this process I was able to meet some incredible people. The stand outs were Richard and Jimmy. Rich and Jimmy were tailors and dressmakers. They were a couple and they gave my fiancée a really good deal on a wedding dress and cocktail dress if she agreed to do some print modeling for their business. They also made me a tuxedo and a suit. I offered to model for them as well and we all had a good laugh at that prospect (OK they were doing most of the laughing - ego still hurts from that one, guys).
The venue we were using was Chijmes. It's the same one used in the move "Crazy Rich Asians". It was back when they had first started offering it up as a venue so it wasn't crazy expensive at the time. Plus, it was a smaller venue for weddings. Usually weddings are held in large hotel ballrooms and are huge affairs (this is what I was told). The families both invite everyone they've ever met to come: Neighbors, business contacts, everyone. They all bring red packets filled with cash. We opted for the "small" wedding.
The Bachelor Party
We had planned bachelobachelorette parties on the same night (separate venues). Lilly's MOH threw hers while Rich and Jimmy threw mine. My best man was my dad (because he's the best man that I know) and so cigars and brandy would have been disappointing to my work friends and my future brother in law and cousins. I don't think anyone was prepared for what happened.
We had the party at the sushi restaurant of a friend of Rich and Jimmy's. It was after hours. We had some incredible sashimi and rolls. I even tried fish sperm. Didn't like it. I asked Jimmy are you sure it's FISH, sperm?? He said of course he'd never do that to me. To be fair, it did taste and smell very fishy. I don't know how human sperm tastes like (or maybe I do now, I don't know).
After the sushi was done, it was time for the entertainment, and oh boy. Rich and Jimmy hired a trans entertainer who sang show tunes. The thing is, she had an incredible voice. She was obviously biologically male, but she really carried herself with a lot more femininity than I've seen from biological women. She sang and told jokes and roasted me pretty thoroughly. My dad was there and he thought it was funny as hell. My friends from work, especially the Aussies and Brits, thought it was great, my future BIL and most of my future cousins did too. Other cousins politely excused themselves and left. I think the free flowing booze and beer kept most people there, though.
After her thoroughly entertaining performance, it was time for the dancers. This is kind of where it went off the rails. Rich and Jimmy hired exotic dancers...but they were all male or trans. Now, to be fair, it wasn't like they didn't tell me about it beforehand. They did. Personally, I thought it would be hilarious to announce that the strippers were here and then have male dancers come out. I have a twisted sense of humor, I suppose. I certainly wasn't going to cheat on the most beautiful woman in the world mere weeks before our wedding, so prostitutes and female dancers were completely out of the question for me. They jokingly suggested male dancers it and we laughed. I thought about it a bit and I guess I'm "take-the-joke-too-far" guy so I encouraged it. Lilly knew about it and thought it was funny as well and wanted me to video tape it while it happened. ("Yeah right you just want to ogle the dancers" "Of course, lah!")
What I wasn't prepared for was the PLATOON of banana hammocks that marched out into the restaurant. Smooth greased up Asian chests everywhere! My dad was of course shocked at first and then looked at me and we started laughing and the ridiculousness of it. My dad stood up and clapped his hand on my shoulder and put a mock serious look on his face. The people immediately around me witnessed my dad telling me that he loved me and accepted my life style choice and that nothing I could say or do would ever change the fact that he and mom loved me and accepted me. Thanks, dad. I was laughing during the whole thing and my future BIL and work buddies who were around me were laughing as well. My dad excused himself and said he had to go find my mom and tell her the "bad news about her future grandchildren" and left ("Can adopt, lah! Can surrogate, meh!" Thanks for the support, guys). My future BIL laughed and said that since all of the available male dancers were at my party, there were none available to attend his sister's party, so she was "safe".
Among the highlights of the evening is that I discovered that a few of my co-workers and future cousins were in fact gay. I was told to stay out of the ladies' room no matter what. I wasn't planning on going in but thanks for the warning. I was proud that we all only vomited in the trash cans and not on the floor (what a waste of some damn good sushi....and fish sperm). Rich and Jimmy stayed next to each other all night. I even saw them holding hands and looking at each other lovingly. To my shame, I was under the common misconception that all gay men were very promiscuous and I kind of expected them to pair off with the dancers. What I saw that night was a very loving monogamous relationship.
The Wedding Day
The day of the wedding came a few days later and I had the good fortune of being the first one in my family to experience the fun and interesting experience of a groom going through a Chinese-style wedding. I say "Chinese-style" because while we did do a lot of the traditions from a Chinese wedding, we did say vows to God before a Christian minister. This was something she insisted on as her family had converted from Taoism to Christianity (but still kept the Taoist traditions and festivals).
First up was the gatecrash. I went over to the her family's apartment and the MOH and bridesmaids stood at the door refusing to let me in unless I gave them $9999.00. Nine is a significant symbol to them. It means "longevity" I think. So the whole idea is for me to haggle the price down by doing challenges and games. I had to do a handstand and walk with my hands. I had to answer trivia questions ("What is her nickname for you?" "Cranky old man" "What is your nickname for her?" "Baby"). BIL and I had to do "the worm". I haggled them down to $99 which I paid to them in a red packet. My BIL and wife chided me for not going lower but my dad was there and was in his 70s and couldn't do any feats of strength.
After I "secured" my bride, we did the traditional tea ceremony with her parents and my parents. Lilly was dressed in a traditional red silk qipao, tailor made by Rich and Jimmy. I gotta tell you people, the qipao really does it for me! Not gonna lie, it was like cupid gut punched me when I saw her dressed in it . My parents were pretty stoic throughout but my mom sympathy cried with Lilly's parents when she tearfully did the tea ceremony with her mother and father. We received red packets from each set of parents. I was told the red packet her parents gave us had most of the bride price we paid in it. Her mom gave her her grandmother's jeweled antique watch and my mom gave her a sapphire ring (sapphire is my birth stone). As we left her home to go to Chijmes, I told her "we're keeping that dress, understand me??" She laughed.
We got to Chijmes, did the photos and she walked down the aisle in a beautiful white dress with a small train behind it with sequins on it. My dad gave me the ring. He was my best man. He was my best man because he's the best man I know. After the wedding, she changed into a champagne colored strapless cocktail dress another Rich and Jimmy original. THREE wardrobe changes, people! THREE! All with different hair and make up and she did it super quick. I don't know what wizardry was invoked but we may be indebted to the hoary netherworld.
We honeymooned at the Fullerton Hotel. The old British colonial Post Office was converted to a luxury hotel in 2001. We stayed there for 3 days ordering overpriced room service ("Go to hawker center, lah! Much cheaper better food, meh!).
Emigration and Immigration
So a little bit before this time, a little event happened in New York. You might have heard about it. Anyway because some sexually repressed incels decided to murder thousands of people, USA's immigration was all jacked up. The INS went bye-bye. Then we had the BCIS for a brief moment, followed by the USCIS. I saw that my project was ending and my company helped me with her immigration. It was a pain, though. It seems like we had new forms to fill out every week while the old ones became obsolete. That's how I remember it, anyway. It was a pretty frustrating time and I almost had to leave her behind (it wouldn't have been permanent but it would be a long time). Luckily we were able to make it time.
For explanation purposes, we didn't get LEGALLY married in Singapore. We had the religious ceremony but no "government contracts" were involved. This is because, at that time at least, it was easier to bring over a fiancée than a wife, for some reason. So Lilly was a "90 Day Fiancée"!! We got married at the county courthouse when we finally were able to go to my new project. We didn't wait 90 days. We did in three (jet lag).
Unfortunately for her, we moved from Singapore, a 24 hour international class city, to a sleepy seaside town in the USA near a military base. Lots of fun was had with that. A total fish out of water story for another time (What is this "coin laundry"? Do you Americans have a place to wash your coins?).
My BIL got married to a beautiful girl and moved to Australia and opened a Bait and Tackle store in Surfer's Paradise on the east coast of Australia. He has 2 daughters. In 2012 he was caught cheating on his wife and lost everything. She moved back to Singapore with his kids, and he kind of struggled for a while. He got another bait and tackle store eventually and tries to see his daughters whenever he can. They don't have a good relationship.
Rich and Jimmy celebrated the decriminalization of homosexuality in Singapore in 2022, but they still can't get married. We still talk from time to time. Writing this, I find myself missing them. I had some really fun times because of them. I've never had better conversations in Singapore than with them while at Lilly's dress fittings (and my suit fittings).
We have been married for 21 years. She has never given up being a Singaporean citizen. She keeps her passport current. She's a "permanent resident" here in the USA. We have three kids, two boys and a girl. We are still married. She still wears her hair in a pony tail with a ball cap when she works out. She still wears that qipao on special occasions, which I try to achieve as often as possible. She's still my Baby and I'm still her Cranky Old Man.
Thanks for reading.

Background: I'm 16 F from South Asia (upper middle class). I have the rest of my IGCSES next year (gave 2 this year). I'm really smart and can get top grades in all classes (when I study) but struggle with extreme procrastination issues. They're so bad its debilitating. I've done everything. Deleted all social media from my phone (ALL OF IT), deleted all distracting apps, blocked all websites that can distract me, locked my phone away. I made plans and lists and calendars and watched videos on how to combat procrastination but I still always always study on the last minute which leads to a lot of stress and panic attacks. I get distracted by everything. I genuinely think something is wrong with me
I just have absolutely no idea what career to pursue but everyone around me seems to be so sure 😭😭I feel like I don't have any passions and the things that do interest me would leave me broke... Ideas for potential careers change monthly for me. I've thought of being a biochemist, lawyer, engineer, writer, journalist, teacher, joining the police force, working on a ship, being a waiter and even joining the military just because I don't know (Anything except doctor because that's what my mother wants me to be)
Frankly I'm kind of unambitious despite knowing I have a lot of potential. I don't want to become wasted potential but for some reason I've never dreamt of being very successful. I just want a simple fulfilling life and MOVE OUT OF THIS SHIT HOLE OF A COUNTRY
Okay so for the things I do like: I love reading and am really good at writing. I especially love the idea of investigative journalism as I read a lot of non-fiction books. I really like research too. I love History and Maths a lot too. The law really interests me these days (maybe because I just finished Better Call Saul) especially the public defender side but also corporate law. I like objective solutions and dread long essays but If i have to I can write them really well. I will say I don't mind bio (except plant bio that shit is boring as hell) or chem, they can be interesting. I love cleaning and organising things a lot too. It feels calming for some reason.
Things I hate: FUCK MEMORISATION. I'm not bad at it but again because of my focus issues it is SO bad to get myself to do it so yeah unless something isn't interesting to me I will not be able to memorise it in time. Physics... Okay I don't hate it but I have to really watch videos to understand it. Sometimes it can be interesting. Maybe my teachers just aren't good enough. I'm bad at deadlines because I always start on the last day. But no deadlines means I'll never get it done. Public speaking... I'm pretty shy and I've never done it so I'm just scared of it. But I could do it. Maybe. I'm just bad at social skills and have like 2 friends.
As you can tell all my interests will basically leave me broke. What will i do with a journalism or history degree? End up broke. Even a Maths degree is useless. Teachers earn nothing. Maybe Law but I don't even know if i really like it. I suck at public speaking. I'm not saying I want a high paying job but it has to be enough to support me

Throwaway for obvious reasons
I don’t know where to begin or where to end this story. I can’t discuss this with anyone I know because I feel like an asshole while also feeling justified at the same tome. This story will also sound made up, but it’s really not and I’m just hurting and want some place to type it all out too.
I (F36) have been with my husband (M39) for over a decade. Early on, I had to have a hysterectomy due to health complications and told him if he wanted kids, we should go our separate ways. He insisted he was strictly childfree and didn't want kids. In every other way, we were perfect for each other.
A few years into our marriage, we even had the chance to adopt a little girl from a family member’s unplanned pregnancy. I was thrilled, but he still didn't want kids, so she was adopted elsewhere. Not being a mom hurt, but I accepted it.
Sometime back, my husband started acting weird. You know how you just know when someone you love changes? He came home late, avoided sex, and was cold. He denied anything was wrong, but I could tell he was lying. Whenever I tried to talk to him about it, he’d tell me I’m being “psycho” and controlling.
So, I snooped through his phone and found evidence of a very long affair. I’m not proud of it, but I did it. I needed that peace of mind.
His mistress (F26 or 27?), whom he'd introduced to me as his cousin, was around less than 2 months pregnant. They were discussing marriage after he divorced me.
He admitted he didn’t want to divorce me yet because he would lose our house, which I funded entirely. He'd also been using our joint account, which I contribute significantly more to (I earn considerably more than him), to pay for her rent and hospital expenses.
When I confronted him, he admitted to the affair and her pregnancy. She came over, and things got heated. I tried to blame him, not her, but after a lot of tears and fighting, I lost control and told them that I hoped they lost the child. I'm not proud of it, but I said it.
He moved out of my house the next day, not sure where they live now.
A few weeks later, she had a miscarriage. They blame me and believe I caused it. She came to our house, slapped me, banged my head against the wall, and kicked me. I was not significantly injured. He didn't hurt me physically but he didn’t stop her either. Yes, I was foolish to let them in but I am in a weird mental state too and didn’t expect her to hit me. Maybe I deserved it. I may have felt the same if someone said something like that about my unborn child and lost it.
I I won’t file charges because it's not an option in my country, and maybe I deserved the beating for what I said. I just want to know if I'm the asshole and if yes, how big of an asshole I am.
Thanks.

Hey recruitinghell, first time posting here but I feel like it's necessary to share my experience with what seems to be a really awesome trend. For context, I starting programming in March/April of last year and have been on a serious job search for ~9 months since finishing my full stack web developer bootcamp. I currently work pro-bono for an unfunded start up, which to be frank has been a great opportunity but I've been really bad at putting in effort since they do not pay me for my work. It's turning into a toxic relationship on my part which I feel is necessary to acknowledge. I also work a retail job in order to feed myself and my cat. My roommate has pretty much been sponsoring me since finishing my bootcamp while I search for a job and I'm very grateful but it's taking so long and I just want to be able to tell my family that I finally have a job. I'm almost 30 and every day feels like a drag.
There have been two separate incidents I've experienced that involves me having a great first round interview only to wind up being ghosted. These weren't with third party or internal recruiters - they were with the CE-mutherf**king-O of the company. Both companies are start ups that recently achieved funding, hence why they're growing their teams.
Startup #1:
I was sent this after lamenting of job prospects in a slack channel for bootcamp grads in my network. It was sent my way by someone who even gave me some tips on my Linkedin which I greatly appreciated. It was a very interesting job - Junior Front End Engineer - using Next.js. It was posted on a job board that uses AI to screen both your resume and assess technical skills during a coding interview. Very whacky way of being technically assessed. Involved me explaining my implementation to an AI bot that listens the whole time, and then I needed to provide an optimized solution. I passed and was invited to schedule an interview with their CEO. It took a day or two for me to realize the job I applied for wasn't just posted by a company on this job board - it was to work for the company that created the job board itself. Very cool!
So, I have my interview with the CEO and what was supposed to be 30 minutes turned into an hour. It was a great conversation and I got to share my story moreso than I believe most interviews allow. I was told the next steps, and to anticipate my take home assessment by the end of the week. It's been roughly 2 months now. I sent a thank you and after about 10 days a follow up to see if I was still being considered. Nothing. Just crickets.
Startup #2:
I have a profile on wellfound and got an email alert informing me someone had sent me a message. Sick! I completely forgot my profile existed there. It was a message from the CEO of a recently funded startup who found my profile and liked that I have both farming and front end experience. He invited me to schedule an interview. THIS was like a dream come true for me. I was a full time farmer when I started my programming journey. I downloaded their app (basic MVP), and could feel my soul singing when thinking about being able to work for a company that serves a sector both important for humanity and to my heart. We had a lovely interview (though I was a couple minutes late, but I was expecting a phone call since they asked for my number to schedule the interview), we talked about a lot. And I was told my next step would be an interview with their CTO. It'll be a month next week since this interview. I've followed up (after my original thank you) about a week and a half later asking about how the timeline for my next interview was looking, that I understand the startup life can involve wearing many hats and losing track of things.. nothing. I'm genuinely concerned that there's something wrong with me that nobody is telling me. I have them on Linkedin, too, and just about every day I consider sending them a DM along the lines of, "Hey [CEO], YOU invited ME to interview with your company and you've been silent since telling me my next steps. I'd seriously appreciate some transparency and to know if I'm even being considered." But given how pathetic that feels I feel like it's best to just act like the opportunity never even existed. I don't like having to gaslight myself in order to carry on.
So my real question here is:
1) Is this acceptable? Like, how normal is it to have a great interview with someone only to ghost them completely? Not with a recruiter (I've had plenty of those, too!), but with the founder of the company itself.
2) Should I send the CEO from startup #2 a DM? How would you even word it to preserve the possibility of even getting a response?
Thank you in advance if you made it this far, I know this is coming off as a rant but I have to go that retail job I mentioned today and act happy. Writing this out felt good. Thanks for listening.

NOVA has too many choices so i need some help. Im very very picky but i hateeeee bitter vanillas and florals. I love love bianco latte perfume (I dont want to spend the money on it though), arianna grande candy, Bare Vanilla Victoria secret (it smells slightly cheap to me now),lattafa khamrah, and use to have midnight shimmer MK as my signature.. I am looking for a very sweet vanilla with a wow factor not a any old vanilla. I wish I could get into coconut but i hate the artificial smell and bitterness.
The only floral I liked was Midnight bloom Victoria secret which to be was vary strong in vanilla with a calming floral note... I wish I can find a dupe that lasts and smells exactly the same.
I like really sweet fragrances with dimension. I like vanilla spice fragrances when they aren't too spicy, marshmallow, and vanilla. I made a list of perfumes i wanna try.. Can you guys tell me how long and good the projection and longevity is of these.. and if you have any other recommendations or think i wont like these PLSS let me know!

• Spooktacular (Vanilla Haven)
• Egyptian Vanilla & Passionfruit
• Gingerbread Marshmallow musk
• Moonstone
• Pyramid Spice Cake
• Pyramid Vanille 4
• Konafa
• Zahr Om Ali
• Cotton Candy Tonka Marshmallow Musk

Before I start, this isn't my story, it's my cousin's, but I'll be explaining it in first person and all the names are changed for privacy. Also, English is not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors. After these clarifications, let's start with what interests us.
I (30F) was engaged with Luke (34M), we were the perfect couple, he proposed years ago in a trip to London and since then I was very excited planning the wedding. My best friend, Ariana (30F) helped me with all of this and was always very supportive.
At the bachelorette party, I went two nights in a very pretty hotel with Ariana and other friends. The second night, she got drunk af, and confessed to my sister that she was having an affair with my fiancé. Obviously my sister immediately told me. The day we arrived home, I know it's bad, but I looked through Luke's phone. What I discovered, was worst than what I expected, they have been having a relationship for two and a half years.
I was in shock, but I decided to move in the shadows, and created a petty plan to expose those a-holes in front of all the family at the wedding.
The day arrived and, truly, I was stunning. I walked down the ~isle~ (I think it's not written that way but I think you understood me) and before anyone could say nothing, I grabbed a microphone and I said: "Beforehand, I would want to thank my fiancé, who has been cheating on me for two and a half years, and my best friend who 'always has been loyal to me' and fcked my fiancé thinking I wouldn't find out". Everyone was shocked. I took my engagement ring off and threw it to the floor (now that I think I could've just kept it and sell it later but it wasn't that dramatic).
Now, I'm happily married to a fantastic man and we're waiting for our first baby. Love you Charlotte and everyone who has read until here. Kisses from Barcelona ❤️
PD: I hate the impression that the majority of tourists aren't having of this incredible city (Barcelona) and I hope all pickpockets leave so you can have a good experience here.