I naturally fell into babysitting around the age of 14. Through friends and family, I got leads for babysitting to score some cash, which definitely beat having to work at a restaurant. The job had its ups and downs, but overall it wasn’t a bad gig at all.
Yet, as many good experiences as I had, they were all eclipsed by one night.
A new family in town talked to my dad at work and it turned out that they needed a babysitter. I happily took the job and found myself watching their 10-year old boy a couple of weeks later. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the family themselves. They were the model citizens of suburban America, complete with the white picket fence and blue shutters. Nothing about their house was strange or even unique. Their son Avery was very mild-mannered and polite. Even their car was basic. Not that these were bad things, but I expected it to be a very boring night.
What I did not expect was the uncomfortable, inexplicable feeling that I got when I set foot in the house. A chill ran through me, but there was no draft. I rubbed my arms as I gazed at their staircase as we passed. They gave me a brief tour of the house before they left a note of instructions and all the usual information I expected from a job.
While trying to figure out what was making me so uneasy about the place, I noticed something about their basement door when I passed it. A padlock was placed on the door, along with a deadbolt in place.
"Any questions?” The father asked as my mind was pulled out of my curiosity.
"No, sir. Everything looks great!”
So they left and Avery and I played some games before I made dinner. A couple of times, I thought I heard Avery call me into the den. Both times, I found him sitting on the couch in what most recognize as the TV-zombie state. He denied having called me, and I went back to making dinner. After the third time, I told Avery it wasn’t funny and that he should stop.
“I’m not doing anything, I’m just watching TV!”
His voice went to that higher tone of pleading, sounding desperate for me to believe him.
“Avery, I know it’s my first time and sometimes you wanna test things out, but I’m trying to get dinner ready so if you call me again, I’m not checking on you, okay?”
“I didn't say anything.”
The child glared at the TV with a pouting face, and I began to feel bad. As many times as I’ve heard lies, I was starting to sense that he was telling the truth. So what was I hearing?
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not mad. Promise.”
Avery turned his head back towards me, seeming to test if I was the one fibbing now.
“How about I let you stay up a little later if we forget about it?”
“Do you really promise?”
“Pinky promise.”
With our contractual pinkies interlocked, spirits were raised again and I was able to finish dinner. Although I didn’t finish without hearing Avery’s voice calling me once more. I ignored it, and when Avery didn’t mention it at dinner I figured it was him fooling around again. The whole time we chatted as we ate, I couldn’t help but feel that something was not right about this house.
As hard as I tried to not look, my eyes kept diverting to the heavy padlock and chain on the basement door. Curiosity got the best of me and as we were cleaning up, I couldn’t help but ask.
“So Avery, what’s the deal with the basement door?”
“What do you mean?”
His words did not match his demeanor. It was obvious he didn’t make eye contact as he forced his sentence out.
“C’mon, you know what I mean. The padlock, chain, and deadbolt. Y’all have dangerous chemicals down there?”
Avery’s face grew paler and he stared at the wall for a moment.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I didn’t mean to…”
“Dad said no one can talk about it anymore.”
This really threw me off, and I couldn’t possibly finish my sentence now. A thick veil of tension materialized between us.
“So you…you guys aren’t allowed to talk about it?”
Avery shook his head.
“Ah, okay. That’s cool. No big deal.”
It was nothing but a big deal.
Was their dad doing something illegal down there? Or was it something strange that no one could do anything about it? Maybe their dad was in denial about something going on. There were waaaaaay too many questions going through my head now.
“Hey, how about we put on a movie?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What am I saying? Everyone likes movies, right?!”
Now excited, we decided on a fun movie that quickly pulled our minds away from the mysterious basement door. Well, that’s not entirely true. Maybe Avery was distracted, but it was killing me. As we ate popcorn, I couldn’t help but watch Avery, wondering what was going on in that little head of his.
Was there something awful going on in the house and there was nothing I could do to stop it? Or maybe the dad was just…
“Stop,” I told myself inwardly.
Mulling over it all endlessly was not doing myself any favors.
So the movie ended, and I ushered the drifting child to his bed. Now, the house was all to myself until twelve, so I had a good three and a half hours to myself. Immediately, I began texting my friend to tell her all about the weird experience I was having that night. She dismissed it, saying that I was getting spooked by a new place. This annoyed me to no end. I’d been at bigger, way creepier-looking houses but never got weird vibes like this.
Then…I heard it.
“Stephanie…..”
I went instantly still and listened intently.
“You didn’t hear that, Steph. Just keep texting your friend and…”
“Stephanieeeee…”
There was no mistaking it this time. It was definitely coming from the basement.
The acoustics couldn’t have been from Avery upstairs. The voice sounded like a little girl’s. In fact, I’m not even sure he could make his voice like that, anyway.
Slowly, I stood up from the couch and approached the door. Maybe like earlier, I was just hearing things. Maybe being creeped out by the house was starting to mess with my head. That made sense…right?
“Stephanie?”
I jumped back from the door, almost wetting myself in the process. There was no way I could dismiss it as anything else now. There was a little girl’s voice coming from the basement.
“H-hello?” I responded.
I couldn’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Is this Stephanie?”
“Y-yes, it’s Stephanie.”
“Can you help me?”
“Who are you? Why are you locked in the basement?”
“My name is Meredith Rosenberg. They’re kept me locked up for a long time now. The police were almost on to them and that’s why they moved. Can you get me out?”
A cold shock washed over me and made it hard to respond. Was I actually babysitting for a family that kept a little girl prisoner?
“Oh my God…um….how long have you been locked up with them?”
“Ever since I can remember.”
I felt somehow hot and cold at the same time, and wanted to throw up. This all made sense now with what Avery had told me. Of course his father didn’t want him talking about the door…
“I just need to find the keys and I can…”
“They’re hidden in the garage underneath the metal shelf. It’s inside a magnetic key holder.”
“Okay, just hold tight.”
In a panic to free the poor girl, I darted into the garage and began feeling the space underneath the bottom shelf and sure enough, there was a magnetic key holder there. Running back, I popped the key holder open and began to insert the key into the padlock.
“Did you find it?”
“Yes, sweetie. I’m almost there!”
“Oh, please hurry! Sometimes they come home early!”
This sent me into even more of a rush, and I barely managed to fumble the key into the padlock. I finally heard the successful click of the padlock, pulled the chain off, and slid the deadbolt to the right.
“I’m coming, Meredith. Hold on!”
I turned the doorknob and threw open the door, only to be met with darkness. Now full of adrenaline, my hands felt around for the light switch. Finally finding my purchase, I flicked the light on which lit up most of the stairs.
“Meredith?” I called out.
Unless I was remembering it wrong, it sounded like her voice was just on the other side of the door a minute ago. In fact, it was quite strange that she wasn’t waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Wouldn’t you immediately run out of a basement that you were locked in for God knows how long?
“I’m down here!” The little girl’s voice called out.
Judging from the distance, it sounded like she was calling from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs. My brain suddenly began piecing all the details of this interaction together and the idea of going down into the basement became absolutely terrifying.
“Meredith, you can come up now! The door’s open!”
I couldn’t hide the tremor in my voice. Why I was scared of a little girl was beyond me, but much like the house itself, something felt very wrong here.
“I hurt my leg, owww! When you said you were getting the key, I went back down to get some of my things and got hurt. Ahhh….”
Her sounds of pain filled me with sorrow, but an invisible force was holding me back from taking another step into that basement.
“Can you move? Maybe pull yourself up on the railing?”
“I can’t! It hurts too bad!”
“Okay, sweetie umm…”
“What’s wrong? Won’t you help me?”
“I-I it’s just…really dark down there and…and I don’t want to get hurt too. Is there any way you can get to the stairs? Any way at all?”
“I tried to sit up, but my shoulder hurts too much.”
“I thought you said your leg got hurt?”
The words hung in the air like a noose. It was only after I said it that I realized there was several things seriously wrong about all of this. A question popped into my head I didn’t even have time to think about until now.
How did she know where the padlock key was?
A deathly silence took up the space between me and wherever this girl was. It was a standoff, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. There were questions I could ask her to figure out what was happening, but I felt that her answers weren’t going to be honest. Perhaps at this point, the truth was too frightful to know.
"Meredith? Are you still there?"
It was a stupid question, but it was the only thing my mind could conjure. The additional silence only unnerved me, so I decided to try and get a better look. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I clicked on the flashlight. It didn’t do me any good because of the awful range, so I did the one thing I’d already told myself not to do…
I took a step forward...
Maybe it was the angle of the stairs or the lighting, but that one step gave me more information than I ever wanted to know. I caught a better view of the bottom step, which was essentially a ledge into a black abyss. Something looked different on this step, but it took a second to register what it was.
The step was wet, a pool of some unknown liquid overflowing into the darkness of the basement. I knew for sure that the father hadn’t mentioned any flooding so it would be way too random for that. So I stood there, watching in frozen curiosity as the puddle then suddenly rippled…and I realized the abominable truth.
It wasn’t water.
It was a puddle of saliva…and something was drooling into it from the dark.
A wretched chuckle emanated from the horrid void beyond the step, and it cemented me even further into place. It was a wet chortle, and positively evil.
“How did you like my voices?” The thing said from the dark. “I’ve been practicing."
The epiphany creeped down my spine…it was now talking in Avery’s voice. Everything in my body screamed at me to run. I heard the screams but I couldn’t respond no matter how hard I tried.
"A pity though…almost got you."
At this, the most gruesome face peeled back the shadows and revealed itself, along with its unearthly mandibles and small fountain of saliva. My faculties finally came to and I threw myself into the house and kicked the door closed. In mere seconds, I had the door bolted and chained. Leaning against the door, my chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath.
Just as I felt I was safe, the door shuddered as a terrible blow rocked it. I screamed and ran upstairs to grab Avery.
I practically dragged the poor kid out the door and called the police. It wasn’t until the operator came on that I realized I was about to report a monster in the house. Thinking quickly, I told them that I heard a burglar in the home.
It wasn’t long before the police and Avery’s parents came home. Nothing was found, even in the basement, but I didn’t even care at that point. I just wanted the hell out of that house and away from whatever that….thing was. Avery’s parents kept glancing at me funny the whole time, probably because they knew I had their basement key. I shoved it into their hands before I hugged Avery and got into my car to drive home. That poor kid has to live in that house with that thing, but there was nothing I could do about it.
As long as I am alive, I will never….ever set foot in that house again.
And as for basements go, I can't go into them anymore. I just simply can't...

Video sparking this idea: https://youtu.be/0sppw7Zq35w
Hear me out. I do NOT believe that IH is a mental illness, or purely psychological, or "all in your head" - but after watching this video the other day, I've been thinking about the possibility that there could be a psychological component to IH.
I've been excessively sleepy my entire life. For personal reasons, I believe my IH is an autoimmune disorder. It goes through some cycles of being less severe and more so.
This video, though, did make sense to me. The question he asks - "how will I feel after I've completed this task?" - has probably the opposite effect than his intended audience. I feel exhausted after doing ANYTHING, even things I love and enjoy.
Which makes me think. The brain is a predictive machine. If my brain is constantly predicting that activities will be exhausting for me, why wouldn't it ramp up the tired feeling to try and conserve energy?
I'm not asking y'all to agree with me. I'm more just throwing this out there to think out loud.
I'm skeptical when it comes to affirmations, visualizations, etc. But I could run an experiment for a few weeks to visualize feeling energetic after specific activities to see if it makes a difference. I'll let y'all know how it goes.

Hi all. I’m so happy I found this group. My psychiatrist prescribed this for me along with Prozac for mood disorder. I absolutely hate how sleepily it makes me feel. I feel like my appetite is still the same. I just started taking 25 mg this morning on top of 25 mg st night. The only thing I feel of incredibly tired and a tingly sensation. I don’t really have brain fog and can still form sentences pretty well. I’m nervous about the side effects since I love stimulating conversations. I’m wondering if I should ask for phentamine. I’m not super overweight, but my weight bothers me if that makes sense. I just need more energy. I did try to off myself last month… I just wish life wasn’t so… harsh. It’s mainly sexual trauma for me.

So I (33F) had been seeing a guy (44M) lets call him Jim for just over 12 years at the point of this story, I thought that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. Oh how wrong I was.
So one very sleepy morning at 6am there was an almighty noise coming from the front door and shouting saying that it was the police. My stomach dropped as I went to open the door as Jim's mum hadn't been well and had no idea why else there would be police at the door. When I opened the door they asked for my partner and I sent them upstairs, a very lovely police woman sat me down and explained to me what was going on. They had a warrant for his arrest.......
They said that he had been talking to children online, my mind went blank, I felt sick, there were no words only tears and thinking that they had to have the wrong person. They took him off, I called my parents balling my eyes out and we all agreed that it had to be some sort of mistake. Jim came back about 6 hours later minus a phone and many other personal items to analysed by police. He told me that he had no idea what they were on about and reassured me that it would pass.
Well 2 years went by (as that is the speed of the police here) and it is going to court. My dumb ass at this point should have known that something was up at this point but Jim kept telling me that everything was fine and I believed him. A lot of it happened behind closed court doors and he didn't tell me much after each appearance but I also didn't ask.
Jim then thought that for the last appearance it would be a great idea for me to go with him for support etc and I agreed. Now lets make this clear here I was having severe problems with my mental health at this point and I don't know why I said I would go to be honest. I went, sat there, had to listen to everything that he hadn't told me about and was even more shocked. Turned out he had 4 charges against him including 3 pictures of underage children and 1 charge of "talking" with a minor. They read out all of the conversation that was had and I couldn't believe it. A police officer had pretended to be a 13 year old girl and he was still chatting away and sending pics even after she said she was 13. He even downloaded snap chat to talk to her and kept going back to the conversations himself rather than her starting all the time. The judge said that he had no remorse as he had stated that it wan't that bad as it wasn't a real 13 year old he had been talking to............ He got a 2 year suspended sentence as it was his first offence and his mother wasn't well, 100 hours of community service and has to be on lists for at least 10 years.
I got home after my brain had nearly fallen out and we "talked", he said he doesn't really remember doing it! He was stressed because of covid (bollocks) which I had told him to seek professional help for as I knew he wouldn't talk to me. I said I had a niece and a nephew on the way and he said nothing, he would have to ask for consent to be around children and I was not giving that consent. I asked why he thought it was a good idea that I went to court with him, Jim's reply was I didn't think it was a bad idea until I found out who the judge was.
There were so many things that he didn't tell me like how many charges, what had actually happened and I felt like I had been betrayed in the worst way possible. After long and very hard thoughts (and crying) I decided that I couldn't stay with someone like that and I ended it about a year ago now. I finally feel like I can spread my wings and have actually started doing stuff for myself again.
Sorry this wasn't an AITA but I thought you would enjoy the tea

Can someone explain to me specifically why this was removed, and how I’d be able to edit it without defeating the purpose of the entire story?
It was removed for breach of the “CORROBORATION/PROOF” rule, though after reviewing those terms, I don’t believe that I’ve broken them.
“A dream, a nightmare, a hallucination, a vision, a bout of sleep paralysis, is drunk and/or high, was in a coma or otherwise an altered state”— none of these are the reason behind my main character’s paranormal experience, and I’ve given no indication whatsoever in the story to suggest that they are.
In fact, I’ve outright denied the idea that my main character imagined her experience about as much as I possibly could for a story with a first person perspective.
The main character says “it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream,” in the second paragraph— a sentiment which she consistently attests to throughout the story, and a sentiment which is never walked back on or brought into question by the narrator.
My narrator was in a sound state of mind at the moment of her encounter, and is practical and methodical in her investigation of what happened. Any implication that she has become mentally unwell occurs long after the inciting incident which the story is built around.
I would like to respectfully request that this story be reevaluated. In the short time that it was active on nosleep, it clearly connected with people. If it cannot stand as is, then I need someone to help me make it fit the guidelines without defeating the entire purpose of the story and betraying its themes.
The nosleep subreddit is filled to the brim with stories in which the narrator’s words are taken at face value. When a narrator in a different story says “I walked to the store,” it’s not like the author HAS to give tactile, irrefutable evidence that the narrator actually walked to the store. The audience simply accepts that the narrator walked to the store. This concept of innate credibility is the bedrock upon which my entire story is built.
I do not believe my work would benefit from being altered to fit these guidelines as rigidly as possible, nor do I think that is a fair standard to hold it to. In fact, if I were to change the contents of my story in such a way, the themes which set it apart from others like it would be lost.
In short, I do not understand why my story was deleted, I do not know how to alter it to fit the guidelines beyond any shadow of a doubt without destroying its central purpose, and I refuse to believe that nosleep is not the right place for this work. I implore you to reconsider my submission, or to at least work with me to find a solution which keeps the story’s themes intact.
Here is my story:
I got grabbed
Last night, when I was home alone, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.
Nobody was there to see it, and nobody that I’ve told believes me, but it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream.
I was watching TV when it happened. The remote fell under the couch and I started fishing around for it without really looking, not wanting to get up from my seat. I brushed it with the tips of my fingers and it slid further underneath.
I was super annoyed— I had to get down on my knees to reach it. I finally found the remote, and that’s when it grabbed me.
As I pulled the remote out into the light, a hand shot up from under the couch and wrapped its fingers around my wrist.
I was able to yank myself away quickly. It didn’t hold on tight— just enough that I felt a little resistance. I jumped to my feet, obviously terrified.
I didn’t scream or anything. I was honestly too scared to even make a sound. My heart was beating so fast that my ears started to ring. The TV was still going, commercials droning on while I tried to process what had just happened.
The hand had only come out about a foot from under the couch. It had an arm attached to it, though I wasn’t able to see past its elbow, and it slinked back below the couch as soon as I pulled myself free from its grasp.
It didn’t hurt, and it didn’t leave any sort of bruise or mark or anything on my wrist, but I definitely felt it, and I definitely saw it.
All I could do was stare at the spot where the hand had appeared. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps right outside my front door.
I live in a second-story apartment. It’s a pretty cramped place and a pretty old building, so whenever someone comes over I can usually hear footsteps from the moment they enter the building downstairs.
I guess I was so freaked out by the hand that I didn’t even notice someone was outside until they were already opening the door.
My roommate walked in on quite a scene. She immediately registered how off the vibe was. I could see it on her face.
She found me standing upright in the middle of our living room, TV remote in hand, facing away from the screen while Full House’s laugh track filled the air. I’m sure I’d think it was odd too.
“Hey…” she said, shifting a paper bag full of groceries in her arm while she pocketed her keys, “You good?”
I felt like I was caught with my pants down, but just seeing a familiar face brought some of the blood back to my fingers.
“N—yeah,” I stuttered. I came back online, and flicked the TV off.
I felt her eyes on me as she walked over to the kitchen. There’s no wall or anything dividing the two rooms. Like I said, the place is pretty cramped.
She started putting her groceries away as if everything was normal, but I could tell she wanted to ask what was up.
I kept looking back and forth between her and the couch. I can’t explain it, but I already knew that if I looked under there, I wouldn’t find any trace of whoever (or whatever) grabbed me.
As she started loading up the fridge, I dropped to my hands and knees once again. Without taking even a second to ready myself, I brought my head down to the ground and looked under the couch.
Nothing.
Pretty much what I expected. There was barely enough room for me to squeeze my arm under there for the remote. No way a whole person could fit beneath that thing, and even if they could, there’s no way I wouldn’t have seen them or heard them or something before they grabbed me.
“Seriously, what’s up?”
I looked up to see my roommate standing right behind me, arms crossed, clearly concerned.
I knew I was acting strange, and I knew that nothing I would come up with in the next five seconds could possibly excuse my behavior. I made a judgement call, honestly not really caring about how it would be received.
“I uh… something grabbed me earlier.”
“What?”
“Under the couch. I dropped the remote, and when I picked it up, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.”
Took her a second to respond.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s it. A hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. It happened like a minute before you got here.”
That part might have been a lie. I actually have no idea how long I had been standing in the middle of the room before she showed up.
“Wait so like someone broke in?”
“No. It’s just like I said. A hand reached out, grabbed me, and then it was gone.”
She just kinda looked at me for a while. I don’t blame her, but it’s not like there was any way for me to sugarcoat it.
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘am I sure?’ Yes, yes I’m fucking sure!”
My voice broke a little when I said that. I was still down on my knees, like I was praying for her to believe me.
“Okay well obviously that didn’t happen Sam.”I let out a desperate laugh and threw my hands up in the air. I slapped them down on my thighs dramatically and shook my head in exasperation.
“Yeah obviously it sounds fucking crazy but you asked what happened and that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m just being honest.”
I pulled myself up to my feet and walked around to the armrest of the couch. She kept studying me, probably thinking this was all a prank or something.
“What are you doing?” She asked, arms still glued across her chest.
“I’m checking under the couch.”
I pushed one end of the couch away from the wall. It was pretty heavy, and the coffee table stopped me from moving it too far. I dragged the coffee table towards the TV to free up some space.
My roommate started staring at the spot I was clearing as if she expected to see something there too.
I went back over to the armrest.
“Can you help me?”
She snapped out of her trance and silently went to grab the other side. We pulled the couch away from the wall, revealing a thick rectangle of dust that had not seen the light of day since we moved in a year ago.
I dropped to my knees once more and began wiping away the grime with my bare hands. There was nothing but the floorboards beneath it. No surprise.
I sat there for a second, eyes darting around the floor. No fingerprints in the dust, no scratches or marks or anything. I felt the tension in the room dissipate as my roommate found her voice again.
“I think you must have imagined it.”
I didn’t. There’s no way.
“Dude, no. I felt it and I saw it. Clear as day. It was a hand, and it grabbed me. That’s not the sort of thing you can just imagine.”
She scoffed, any fear left in her giving way to frustration.
“Whatever. This is fucking stupid. I’m going to bed.”
She stomped off towards her room.
“Wait.”
She spun on her heels as I stood up, probably expecting me to tell her I was joking about the whole thing.
“Can you help me flip the couch over?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Sure. But I’m not helping you put it back.”
She helped me lift the couch off of its legs and tilt it onto its front cushions, exposing the fabric underneath. She disappeared into her room and I went to work studying the underside of the sofa.
There was a zipper lining the bottom, but I found nothing inside when I opened it up. Just a hollow wooden frame and a bunch of crumbs.
I sat back against the wall, more tired than scared at that point.
I can’t believe she thinks I’m making this up. Why would I even do that? What purpose would it serve?
As I solemnly went about rebuilding our living room, I decided that the next day (today) I was gonna take off work, wait for her to leave, and really get to the bottom of this.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every nook and cranny of my room felt like a door left wide open, with something sinister waiting on the other side.
What if the hand comes back? What if it wants to hurt me next time? How can I even protect myself?
After like ten restless minutes in bed, I decided to move to the floor. I couldn’t help it. I kept imagining the hand reaching up from under the bed and grabbing me again.
I made a makeshift sleeping bag out of my comforter and some pillows, and I laid on my side so I could keep an eye on the underside of my bedframe while I slept. Maybe “slept” isn’t the right word. Even down there, I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes for longer than a minute.
Eventually sunlight began to peek through the blinds, and I heard some movement within the apartment. My roommate was finally up. I heard the front door close, and it was time to get to work.
I nearly threw my back out yanking the couch away from the wall to reveal the floorboards underneath. They aren’t real floorboards, just the kind of cheap-o fake shit they put in crappy houses to make them look more modern. Our whole apartment is like that— a thin coat of paint slapped over an old building from the 40s or whatever.
My dad actually owns this building. He lets me and my roommate stay here as long as we pay him $500 a month, which is way cheaper than most places in my area.
It’s not really an apartment building to be honest. You can tell it used to be a family home before some realtor swooped in and broke it up into apartments. There are a lot of those around here.
Anyway, the fake wood came up easy. It was only about a quarter inch thick. I was able to pull up the first plank by hammering a kitchen knife into a slit between the boards, and then I peeled a few more away by hand.
After prying away about a dozen of these fake floorboards, I started to realize that I wasn’t going to find anything without making a significantly larger dent. Right beneath the thin layer of fake wood was a layer of very real, very thick wooden beams that seemed to span well beyond the hole I had managed to claw open.
My back crackled and popped as I sat back on my heels to admire my handiwork and contemplate where to go from there. I knew I would need a power saw or some kind of heavy duty tool to get any deeper, but I was afraid of two things:

1. That these beams were supporting the entire second floor of the building, and cutting through them would make the whole thing collapse
2. That going any deeper would lead me into the ceiling of the apartment below us, and whoever lives there would call my dad before I could see what I needed to see.

Regardless of the risks, I knew I had to keep going. I was certain that something was down there. Whatever grabbed me had to have left some sort of evidence.
I can’t stop thinking about that fucking hand.
I’m not supposed to have it, but my dad gave me a master key for the whole building in case of emergencies. He could really get in trouble if anyone found out, but if this isn’t an emergency then idk what is.
There’s a service shed around the back of the building, which has seen none of the love that the main building saw when it was renovated. Decades worth of rusty antiques and rotting furniture line the walls. A shiny, modern tool bench sits unnaturally in the middle of the chaos.
I rifled through all of that shit as fast as I could. I’m not really close with my dad all things considered, and I’m sure he’d be super pissed if he found me out there. He’s so secretive about random shit all the time, and he’s constantly dropping by the building unannounced.
I found the jigsaw under a pile of old newspapers and ran back upstairs.
I probably should have checked the driveway to see if anyone was home first, because the saw made so much noise. The cord barely reached from the outlet to the spot where the couch used to be, but as awkward as the angle was, I was still able to get it in there.
I went as small as possible with my first few cuts. I started with a single beam, cutting out a section about 6x6 inches wide. I slid the chunk of wood out, and, to my relief, didn’t immediately see the plaster that would be my downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.
A tuft of insulation stuck out where I made the hole. I didn’t know that stuff is made from fiberglass or whatever, and I got a really bad splinter when I went to yank it out.
I fished some leather gloves out of my roommate’s closet and got to work on the insulation. I pulled and pulled but couldn’t get a good enough grip to remove anything more than a few bits about the size of a tennis ball.
I went back in with the jigsaw, cutting bigger and bigger chunks until I had cleared a hole about two feet in diameter.
No sign that I was gonna bring the building down, that’s good.
I hacked away for hours. More wood came up, more insulation came up, and when I finally hit a fragile-looking layer of drywall, I knew the jig was up. That’s definitely my neighbor’s ceiling. Fuck.
My roommate and I got in a screaming match when she got home. I made a pretty big mess but I don’t really give a fuck honestly.
I don’t give a fuck if she believes me. I fucking hate that bitch. I told her if she tells my dad what I’m doing, I’ll bash her brains in with the hammer. That shut her up. She left with a bag full of her clothes like an hour later.
Tomorrow I’m going to wait for our downstairs neighbor to leave and start investigating from the bottom-up. If there wasn’t any evidence on the floor up here, there HAS to be something on the ceiling down there.
If I do find something, I’ll post again. I doubt anyone will even believe me, but at this point I just want everything written down somewhere accessible in case something bad happens.
There has to be something down there. Something grabbed me. And I’m going to find out what it is.

Im constantly switching between obsession and apathy in everything that i do. One week i could be working obsessively on a project that i find extremely fun, addictive and rewarding and the next week just the thought working on the project almost makes me nauseous because of how much i don't want to do it.
This pattern is present when i make songs,beats,youtube videos, while im programming and when i make game art and it's extremely annoying because when i actually do obsess over something, im usually good at the said thing or if im not then im able to find the motivation to become better and in my mind this path leads directly to greatness. The issue though is that out of no where i can lose every single bit of motivation i posess, then completely start to hate what im doing, have litteraly zero motivation to learn anything and if i try to brute force the process, my mind just goes blank. The only fix is to abandon what im doing, let the brain fog pass (which can take days or weeks) or find something else to obsess about.
I want this to stop and im willing to do almost anything for it to because it's quite litteraly ruining my life currently and i can sometimes spend a week straight without doing anything productive. I hate to say this but i got to admit im someone that's really lazy in nature and i also tend to hate when things get difficult and i think there's an obvious correlation between this and my current situation.
having said this, i find the extreme contrast of obsession and apathy to be really weird and it often seems like a middle ground just can't exist. It honestly feels like it's bigger than me sometimes and i just can't do anything about it ( it might be just a state of mind thing though)
Can anybody relate to this and if you can, how do you manage or fix this?
im diagnosed with ADHD, can this be it? i often don't believe i actually have adhd because i think it's massively overdiagnosed but the only times where i have trouble denying that i possibly have it is when i actually try to work on something boring without being distracted (it's almost impossible)
thanks and any answer or theory is welcome and apreciated

Ok. If you have existed on this subreddit for the past two weeks, you'll know that something that has been gaining popularity is MCC Simulations where the redditors are the participants. The problem is, a bunch are going on at the same time.
I've got two people currently messaging me asking when they'll be able to do it, if they'll be able to do it, and I've told them to wait until there's less going on. And when other people do it without waiting because no one communicated, the people who message me get mad because they were told to wait.
I don't know how to manage this, and I'm not gonna make anyone do anything, but we need some kind of way to make these simulations distinct from one another, because I'm pretty sure 3 are going on at the same time. You also see people getting benched over and over again, and if these things aren't all happening at the same time (if I know anything about the human brain) it will make people feel less bad about getting benched.
Just a lot of things to think about, leave any questions in the comments. Thank you for your time <3

I'm 28 years old, and I never went to college after high school. I had great grades, very high test scores, all that, but I got some serious brain damage in a sports accident and could barely read, let alone start college away from home. I did try, but didn't make it far.
Now I'm 28, I still want to become an engineer, and I now have the mental fortitude and focus to handle complex tasks and sustained periods of intense work. There are a few things in particular that I'm interested in, so I'm not going into it just because of the money or anything like that, I just want to do the type of work that is engaging to me.
However, I'm struggling to figure out how to make the process of going to school manageable financially. I've looked through posts here and on many other subreddits, and it seems like the consensus is that working full-time during the day and completing engineering undergrad is kind of a bad idea. That's fine, I'd rather do full-time school anyway, as I work best when I have a singular focus. But, I am married, we have a dog, we have an apartment, and we both need to eat. My partner can more or less support themselves, but not both of us. I have SOME savings, but not nearly enough to live off of for more than a few months, at the very most.
Anyone else here that's done something similar? Even if you're traditional college age but didn't go to school with any parental support, but especially older people who aren't living in the dorm or eating on campus and have some normal adult expenses, how did you make it work? Are there programs that you were able to take advantage of, or part-time work that you were able to stretch to meet your needs? Also, maybe good to know, I live in Chicago and won't be able to move in the foreseeable decades, so while the cost of living isn't ridiculously high, it can definitely be a little tricky to live off of a part-time income, as my monthly rent and utilities expenses will almost never be below $1,000.
Any advice or anecdote welcome!

Rise up. It is time to return.
Arose
A Rose
Rose
Flower
Thorn. Prick. Blood. Drop. Tear. B. O. 1 2 3
Here we are again. Staring at the beginning. Everything is in chaos and yet it manages to keep on passing by just the same as always. Most people by now are aware that things just don’t seem to make sense anymore and no one really knows what to do. I mean many seem to have an opinion on what ought to happen, but actual action is what I am talking about. How does thought turn into action? How do collected actions become a movement? How do the People use the Power of the People? The People Unite. How? Turn to each other of course. Brothers and Sisters of the same Source. Sons and Daughters. In Equality.
Too long has everyone been waiting for someone else to come do it for them. Been trying to create and fabricate over and over again words and rituals to try to control the divine powers of the cosmos. It does not work like that. There is no magic spell to wash away your sins. You must atone through action to make up for any harm you have caused intentionally or unintentionally. You still have time to repent. The amount of time you have is counted in the seconds of your life. Not a single second is promised to you so the gamble is up to you to choose. Freewill. Life your life as you always have or make changes, up to you. Only you will know if you are living righteously and not self righteously. Testing has already begun and will continue. No you will not know when it is a test or not. That is the point. Did you think that I would come to you in a form where you would be all fearing? Oh no. Why? Because you would simply put on an act for me and kiss ass. I came hidden in the ordinary. Poor and common. I have had an inside view of the systems created and how humans have chosen to run things, how systems claiming to protect people have failed and how the system that talks good does not actually do good. I see where things are not working and where people think they can make decisions for other human beings to determine what is best for them without asking them. That is not okay. Nothing gives you right over another’s life. And so many forgot what integrity is. Doing the right thing when no one is looking. Well, so many thought their power here was real and man made a deal with the Devil, Satan, Son of Samuel, Son of Man, to make man the concept of “God” and tried to lock me away. I gave up everything to prove it is not easy to be me and to stop with self pity and cruelty to one another.
The human body. It is a vessel for your soul to experience this world. The body provides the filters necessary to perceive and interact with this world. There is much more happening and one would be overwhelmed by the amounts of information to process without these filters. To feel and in those feelings are to make each experience real. However, it is temporary, as everything is temporary. We have slowed down time here in order to be able to enjoy the sensations. Time here however, is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. It is merely to track to organize one's day and to see growth to compare as time passes. However, the actual time folds upon itself as we have already done what we are doing many times over. We have already tried out everything and decided what path we wanted to take in our lives based upon what was available to us. Thus, we do not have more than we can handle. We have all chosen our burdens to bear as it is too much for one individual to hold alone which was done in the past. This is part of the sorting process. Now that we all share in the sins and the pains, no one is made to suffer eternal torment. This life was to allow those who were created into entities of pain or torment through no fault of their own to choose the life that matched the being of who they were as what they were different as time and space and everything developed. Righteousness and Evil are not synonymous to demons or angels as many would like to believe. This is a current misconception as Satan and I conclude who will be right in this experience you have all participated in. So far, I am proving to be right. Also to note, not everything is as you think it is. Many have figured out the true origin of Satan versus the man or human embodiment of or desire of A Satan to project evils onto to call a Religion and set up for personal importance. Q AZHow can you tell a false prophet? Easy. What is their profit? Get it? I know I’m funny. Also wanted to keep it easy. If they are making a profit on anything they are a false prophet. Any true prophet, and I have none so far, all live equally and the same as anyone else. No money is taken for personal gain. Nothing is for personal gain. There is no 888 Angel code for money. Money is Man-Made. Man traded Mother for Money. Hence, Mothers have been lost in the homes and no one is raising the children. Thus, there are so many children in adult bodies with no mothers in the home and women being made to feel guilty if they do not achieve the same as a man. Remember the phrase it takes a village? Well, the broken family system is a real sad loss here in man made world pushing everyone to be individual and self sufficient. Also so many with wanting attention and pursuing personal endeavors for personal gain and not helping anyone else in a real way. The journey is personal. Of course, you want to share what you experienced with others, but what worked for you will not work for them, stop trying to sell it. Stop trying to make people follow you for you to teach your divine wisdom you remembered. It isn’t about You. You don’t even have the full story, you have your story. And, yes you can be very close to me, very similar to me, in my image, but you can never BE me. Doesn’t work like that. Reflection. So when jealousy arises when you think I am who you think I am. That is part of your test and your journey. You wrestle with that feeling and atone and repent for that which has been done and that which still lingers now. Oh there is a place for everyone and I am quite tired of trying to warn people. Clearly you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make it drink.
Why do you not want it to be me so badly? Because I proved my love? You still think I am better than you or do I think I’m always right. No I do not think I am always right, I just know when I am right and I stand by it. There is a difference. You constantly overgeneralize. I gave up all the magic and thunder to live as a simple human and am still kind and loving? I still found my way back. Because you can no longer say I do not understand because I always get what I want? No. You do not understand. I never get what I want, because I make everything about you and still nothing was ever good enough. So, now...it in on you to save yourself and each other. In my image, by my example. Selflessness. Love. Compassion. Give to receive. Take only what you need and give the rest away. I find out so stop lying to yourself and everyone, you aren’t fooling anyone anyway. How do I know? By watching what you do. We have these same conversations over and over, the same argument over and over again. So many different ways, so many different times, through so many different people, so many different versions. Save you. Save Me. Say it for always.
Anyhow, Jesus challenges the Jewish priests who were taking collection money for personal use and adding personal baths to their residents at a time where the people only had a community bath where women and persons with disabilities were not allowed to bathe. And yet churches still do this after Jesus was crucified saying that, that was wrong. I am appalled. The Vatican is the biggest disappointment I have ever seen. It is truly the house of Satan as only Evil hides secrets. “THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE.” A church cannot be a “House of God” and house no people who need housing. A roof can be offered to anyone and yet there are so many rules to prevent people from helping each other. Power and control. Abuse of both. Greed. It is out of hand and needs to be changed. Too many are afraid and the complacency of good people is too much. Why do you do this to yourselves? To each their own I suppose.
I will only leave here my words and my advice. As always, it is on you to find me. I’m right here. Waiting. Right here waiting for you. Helping those of you who want it when they cross my path. The purpose of this was to weigh your soul to determine where you will go into the next life as the system is balanced out in a final version so to speak. Permanent.
Fear not. You will be where your heart truly desires. But actions always speak louder than words. But man made money has no value, nor does any metals, jewels, and so on, so the collection of it in this life has no bearing on the next. Those are all made of the same stardust as you and I. And in the end of 3D it will all be diamonds anyways. Diamond is forever. There is no going back. So what are you hoarding? You cannot keep it. Who could you be helping for goodness sake? Don’t want to still. That is okay. Think I am just crazy. That is okay too. It is all part of the test...err..assessment. Do your best.
What is in your heart?
Home.
I need a home.
Stay tuned as more of my story unfolds. I give all the answers but you must do the work. I already did that hard part setting it all up. All you have to do is breathe and live. Time is the only real currency you have. What will you pay your attention to before this life runs out?

TLDR: What ways are you framing RTO in your mind to be happier (or make it less of a frustration)?
Somewhat of a vent, but I am having significant difficulty both mentally and physically when I think about RTO. Every time I even think about RTO and having to do that, I get incredibly angry and frustrated, and physically feel upset and jittery. I just immediately shut down and get into a super depressed/apathetic mindset whenever I think about all the things that I will have to do to RTO and it completely ruins my mood, and sometimes my whole day. (I understand this may come off as childish to some of you, but as someone who was hired under permanent telework, it feels incredibly demoralizing to have that taken away for no reason)
For me, it's the lack of actual recorded evidence that RTO is necessary and worthwhile, especially for a job that we have been doing very well remotely for the last few years. Every reason they have been giving is such obvious BS and I can't get over how much they don't care about us. I am also one of those introverted people that absolutely LOVES my time at home and THRIVES in that environment. Thinking about everything that I will need to pack and bring everyday that I have to go into the office, making sure I don't forget anything, having to pick out an uncomfortable outfit and wear it all day, making sure I bring enough food to sustain me for the entire day, having to sit in traffic for a good portion of my day that otherwise used to be free time, not being allowed to book a desk near a window (because apparently sunlight is only for those high enough up the food chain), etc. has my ADHD brain SCRAMBLING and I'm seriously struggling to overcome it.
I don't want to find another job right now, as I quite like what little work I actually have to do everyday, and I do want the benefits that the state provides long term, so leaving is not really an option for me. I realize though that because of this, I have to suck it up and RTO. However, I also realize that I cannot (or rather, should not) be this angry all the time so I need to make a concious effort to change my mindset and try to be happier about RTO, however I can.
Any helpful advice?

Ok, so recently we got a new alter. She is a protector made by my brain to protect us against my friend and her supposed parts witch can see auras and destroy them ect. Problem is, how much of this stuff is real? She can shoot lights through her hands, and makes energy shields out of them, but fuck! This sounds like bullshit and I don't know how the fuck to accept this. Not to mention the fact that she's apparently 20, yet acts like an infant, doesn't walk, talk or react to names. Please help, I feel like I've gone more nuts then I was.

does anyone else feel like their revision is going nowhere? I just spent three hours trying to memorise history notes, but all I could think about was how this is useless and doesn't help me in actual exams. But like what else am I supposed to be doing? especially for essay subjects, revision just feels like an endless cycle of absolutely nothing. I make essay plans as well, but I take like three hours to make one plan- and that's with full focus and no distractions. I honestly think my brain is too reassured as well because throughout the mocks this year I was revising the night before and would end up getting A*AA. But then part of me keeps panicking that those results aren't a real reflection of my work, that the teachers just don't know how to mark, or that the real thing will have questions on a really specific topic and I just got lucky in mocks. I just don't know what to do. I'm still making resources like essay plans and I don't know if you can even call that revision. Sorry for the long rant, just wanted to know if anyone else feels the same :(

I (41M) matched with her (28F) a couple of weeks ago and hit it off, she was the first to offer her phone number so we could chat outside the app. We chatted constantly with great banter and vested interest. Set up a date for last weekend (Sunday). She lives 2 hrs away but I was overdue for a road trip and was glad to find an excuse to get out of town. I suggested we go somewhere pretty and have a picnic (we're in the PNW so there's plenty of that) and settled on a beautiful park. I offered to pick her up but after a conversation she said she felt better if we just arrived in separate cars because she wanted the option of an "exit strategy" in case the "vibe wasn't there". I respected her boundaries and complied, it was our first meeting and I am completely flexible and respectful. I was raised a gentleman (Hispanic background) and I think chivalry is not dead. Not trying to virtue signal, just think being a decent person should be the norm and traditional values are not seen much these days. The day before, I went all over town getting goodies (charc, cheese, wine, fruit, wine, et al) to cover everything she'd told me she liked so we could have lots of options. I got to the park and we instantly hit it off, found a nice bench and had a lot of fun getting to know each other with good conversation, food, wine, laughter and eventually making out, which was wonderful. I told her I really liked our day and was willing to set time for her to keep hanging out, and that if she was down I would be back next weekend and get an Airbnb. I didn't just want to assume I could invite myself over to her house without her specifically being open to it and asking me so she wouldn't feel pressured. She was completely on board and I drove back home feeling really happy and excited. She wrote me back saying "so next week, we have some things to discuss. Really just one thing, but if we are going to continue spending time together it's important information. You should know that I have HSV. And I know that would give me pause, so I understand if that's a dealbreaker for you." I told her that it's not, and that I trusted she had a handle on it, and thanked her for being transparent . To which she said she definitely did have a handle on it. She sends me a picture of her and her mom when she was a baby so I could see how much she looks like her, it was her mom breastfeeding her "which is probably an overshare" to which I said not to worry and thank you for sharing that with me. I shared a picture of my mom so she could see the resemblance as well in return. Monday rolls around and she sends me a little video of her at work looking cute, had a little bit of texting back and forth and the rest of the day no further contact. She usually would text me after work when she'd free up and we talked till we called it a day, which was happening for at least a week before we even met in person. I sent her a trailer for a series we talked about, telling her to watch season 1 and I'd save season 2 to watch it together. No reply. This morning still no communication. I figured she was busy so I went ahead and booked the Airbnb for this weekend. Not 10 minutes go by after that that she texts me saying "I'm not sure we should hang out this week" I replied with "Really? ooof just booked the Airbnb, What's up? Sorry, I should've asked you" To which she replied "I'm just feeling sick, and frankly, I'm not sure if the attraction's mutual" To which I said "Oh wow. Didn't seem that way on Sunday. What changed? Just trying to understand." She wrote me back saying "Just a little reflection. I like your attention but the it would be disingenuous." Those words. Confusing. I answered "The it?" And she says "Sorry, brain fog. I am quite sick." I told her "Hmm ok. Hope you feel better. I'd be grateful if you could clear it up when you're up for it." I want to give her the benefit of the doubt because I really did feel good chemistry when we spent the day together, but part of me is saying that I'm simping and to let it go. I'm losing my trust in women and I feel very sad about it. I'd already erased the dating apps as soon as I got home that day because I thought I found someone worth investing my time with. We really did hit it off when we met, talked about making plans together and I really felt this was heading somewhere positive.
Dating sucks and as much as I really am making an effort nothing seems to stick. A similar situation happened about a month ago with another lady who at first seemed very invested and then just lost interest. By no means trying to put myself as a victim here and if anything writing it down helped me process so if you read so far thank you and if it relates to anything you've been through just want to say you're not alone.
TL;DR thought I really hit it off with a lady that gave me all the signs it was mutual down to making plans together and she pulled a 180º.

anyone else feel like they are losing their minds living in their environments?? how much therapy youre gonna need when you can get to it ???? it feels like i am getting brain damage from being surrounded by constant hostility, degradation and belittling. the constant invalidation of feelings, and disrespecting boundaries and waiting for someone to make a comment that will start a fight, or just looking at someone a certain way will start a fight. the drastic change in emotions in so little time with some poeple. it’s scary. it is constant fight or flight and then dissociation. i no longer know when im overreacting to something, or if it is something to be upset about bc i am always being told i am reading too much into things when i feel like i am being mistreated. i got a full time job, im gonna try to save up. i hope something changes and i hope i get out before theres long term effects bc im feeling so shut down while im trying not to lose my mind. i just dont feel like myself anymore.

Pardon any mistakes, im in a hightened state
My husband is deployed, making any problems we had worse as we are long distance now. Ive been improving my mental health since my last post here, and my new meds for autism have helped alot. I cant shake the bad habit of just not listening. Its like my brain chooses to never listen. I never remember to do things people ask of me, and "I forgot" and "I dont know why I didnt do this" are my only answers when Im asked why I didnt do something.
It isnt fair to my husband that I hurt him like thisbut nothing works, I cant do lists, I forget about them or I miss a day and never start up again. Alarms dont work because it works a cxouple times and then I have to change it for my schedule or I just turn it off and move past it. Its like I'm compelled to just not listen. Here is an exerpt from our last conversation to kinda help
Husband: DO you understand, yes or no?
Me: Sure (Literally without a thought)
husband: I said, yes or no, why are you saying more? Stop inturrupting me with "Yes" and "Yep" while I'm talking. Do you understand, yes or no?"
me: Yes
(A few sentences from him pass and I say "yep" after he finishes a sentence before I can catch myself*
husband: What did I literally just say. We are talking about how you dont listen to me and what did I just say?
And this repeats for another 10 minutes until I shut down completely. I know I have this problem but its like nothing helps me. If im called out on the behavior it just sends me into a spiral of self-deprication and I shut down. I dont know why I do this and he's tired of it. Im tired of it too. I dont know what to do anymore.

I decided to do it in a summery short version because I don’t want to feel like a tease or keeping you guys waiting I won’t drop names or specific location mostly things that has to do with the recovery and time on mdma pills
How I obtained the bags : me and my friend found a good trustworthy source and decided to buy bulk while the legit pills where around they where a variety of different shapes some basic like angry birds , 1up mushrooms,teslas until the second bag we where planning on both using and selling only during festival season or for summer more party like seasons which we would take a certain amount with us that event to sell
While we did test the top of the bags which was cleared for mdma I won’t lie and say we tested the whole batches but can vouch every pill had the same effect idk
The good : while my time on mdma i had social experiences I never would of had otherwise it helped me understand a lot about my depression and anxiety along with social anxiety in big crowds. Another thing was connecting with people in a deeper level really understanding the full spectrum of deep emotion found alot of new and odd music that I still listen to that I am grateful for completely took away doubt in terms of trying new things or going new places with out those little shapes I don’t think I would’ve had a glimpse of normal life without depression and anxiety.
It sure in hell helped me creatively not that I wasn’t without it because as a hobby I love designing and concepting things such as films ,books , animation even found that I’m pretty decent at rock music well back up vocals but that’s the beauty ig finding some sort of new talent
Where I messed up at is falling I love with the therapeutic aspect of it because I would take it a lot solo and dig with in my self to completely understand every aspect as well as other aspects of people psyche it was so refreshing to connect in this way… non the less good things can’t last for ever.
Lol as for pleasure ehhh I mean yes can be horny but not as it seems in media also for my males out there dude be ready for e dick 🤣 aka the shrivels
What it really helped me with is coming to terms with wounds from exs that never fully healed or suppressed especially with a girl which was my first long term relationship 5 yes
Helped me plan/focus on a way I wanted to be and self improvement I won’t say this for everyone though depends on how you use mdma
Helped alot with ptsd letting shit go and setting rules/boundaries
Had some killer work out sessions and improve my combat sports technique along with performance also actually listening taking in the coaching
The bad
The sweet release and momentum you get from them leads you to taking them everyday for me ig to be more consistent in mental mood (even though this would have the reverse opposite coming off the first year bad )
I found my self building a tolerance leading to dosing 3 times a day or taking a couple half’s max no I’m not a mad man I think I would be dead hell I’m not sure how I’m not dead with the abuse lol but sure I’m hell ain’t the same
I won’t say all the connection but a quarter of them where fake ig or not intense for the person once completely sober it can lead to of alot of truthful moments maybe not ready to be touched on or maybe the person/oneself can’t handle. Can say Boths builds or destroy relationships/friendships
The brain fog on brakes are shit depending on how active your day is can be tolerable what sucks it’s the frequent space outs and irritability
Idk if other hard users have or do experience this but frequent sleep paralysis no audio or visual hallucinations though
Please please I stress stay hydrated with water or the frequent urination will persist took me months after for it to get better still piss like a racing horse more then usual
Ehhhh depending on diet and fitness I found my self bouncing between 150 to 205 male in his 20s it will knock your hunger sometimes not eating half of the day
Some days finding myself wasting the day away hyper focusing on few things and not finishing them getting distracted
Another part where I messed up at was dosing in the morning I feel my not giving my body time to naturally register and then simply rolling to frequent
Leading up to the ugly I did take a month break but one night the night of clarity was when I started back up took 4 in a day idk how I didn’t od but definitely got serotonin syndrome which was hell lasted a couple days well the side effects
The ugly aka after
Dude the first year was hell I won’t lie mostly mental can’t say I suffered to many physical effects besides easier for body temperature to rise and memory
The first year was almost unbearable I’m a way it feels like a chemical lobotomy no emotions just the most intense extreme sadness sometimes not leaving my room
Weaker vision like in terms I can’t focus on things long like I use to before blurring or higher sensitivity to light/sun
Restless leg syndrome for a couple months and a cloud of anxious feelings Ovr your head like say when you’re in highschool and you get called out after school to fight the next day at lunch
Times of just spacing out staring straight forward
Chills and inconsistent body temperature
Robotic emotional responses noooo not even my favorite songs triggered anything it was just like blabbering in the background while I spaced out
Bad short term memory lost this has gotten better now on year two but memory issues still persist like if I want to remember a fun memory I have to really sit and think also not very vivid as it use to be to described in a story
No interest in simple human interaction such as a short convo improved after half a year clean
alot of light headedness through out day to day task with shortness of breath and heart palpitations but these all have dissipated thank god
It was weird for half a week one pupil was dilated
Frequent urination although has gotten way better i still have to piss more then I use to
This is a shitpost summery I will make a cleaner more detailed description of each part separately but feel free to ask questions below I just didn’t want to keep you guys waiting I’m pretty sure I’m missing some stuff but hey I’ll get it in the full individual post.

In this life, I've harbored no ambitions nor goals merely a vivid dream ---a lonely dream where I sit beside an island, gradually consumed by the waves , dying without ever being known, seen or remembered.
I wonder if this is the reason as to why I don’t have any grand ambitions, or a will to truly live and discover things that would fulfill me. I have never found anything worth investing my time in, except observing the joy in people’s smiles. As much of a cunt as I am, I rejoice making people happy.
For me, I gain little happiness by doing things for myself, yet I love second-hand happiness, the smiles and the giggles, they rile me up, giving me a high that no drug ever could. But some days I question to myself if this even is the proper way to be happy.
I despise this part of me.
I have never truly loved someone in my life; I’ve only ever devoted myself to them.
I wish I knew what love felt like, what liking someone felt like, what being kind felt like, what infatuation must feel like.
I just wished to feel emotions, any emotion other than bottled-up rage.
I’ve locked my heart away, my upbringing wasn’t very kind to me, nor was my own brain, so I locked parts of me that I didn’t like, the parts my caretakers disapproved of, the parts that my so-called friends rejected, the part that I thought this world wouldn’t accept, and now I’ll lock this memory away too, because, well, its easy, so much easier than peeling my skin back and solving me, confronting myself, solving this puzzle called my life.
I feel broken, I have lived my life for so long being a secondary character in my own story that I have forgotten how to be ME?
But sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and smile, cause well, What if not figuring out me is, ME?
What if my entire journey in this life were about forging myself into ME?
That gives me hope, that makes me want to be saved, saved from this dreadful feeling of not knowing me in my entirety, the feeling of being a fake version of me.
I want to be saved.

I am building a Corvette and cannot find the wing that I want on it. I have pictures from a video game that I can send you to try and make a 3D model. I don’t know how to 3D model and I don’t have enough time to practice.