Teeth hurt on adderall

I'll try to keep it short, sorry if the grammar is bad, english isn't my native language, also I'm not in the USA
TL;DR at the end
Trigger warning : mental health issue
Some important background; I am autistic, and I can't work since I am not a "high functionning" one, it was my doctor, psychiatrist and the ASD clinic's lady that told me that, so it's not something that I just "use". I also have a weird thing, didn't really understand when my psychiatrist told me about it, it's like an "autistic depression", I'm not depressed, but if I am under too much stress/pressure or that I don't have any energy left, I get severe depression symptom, the type that get you in the hospital for 72h. Also got some severe, severe anxiety
Sorry for that, it was pretty long. To explain the situation, I moved in with my boyfriend in February, we got an appartement together. I receive some fund from the government every month because I am disabled, but because of some reason(under 24, the salary of my parents), I get almost nothing and everything that I get goes straight to my boyfriend for the bills.
Recently our relationship got pretty rocky in a really bad way, he did bad things. If things doesn't get better I will leave him at the end of the lease. Because of many of those things, I have become really tired(can't sleep when he's here), I almost eat nothing and does my best to do chores(housework and his lunch) but have some difficulty.
The thing is.. His brother. I kind of like him, he's nice but sometime he says comments that are kind of insensitive. His brothers doesn't know how my boyfriend acts with me. He also doesn't know that I feel bad about the fact that I can't function like a normal person.
Things he told me/about me or just stuff that is kind of mean, with context if necessary :

• That I should be grateful that my boyfriend make me lives "for free"(context: we were talking about how much I receive from disability and how my parents gives us foods for free)
• That every woman with mental health issue are name calling and you should avoid them at all cost
• That I could've done more chores that day(context: I almost needed to get to the hospital that day because I was reaching my limit, the chores in question was just the garbage and some forks that I intended to do after sleeping)
• That I'm lazy since I don't work(context : he was talking to my boyfriend about how he(BIL) could work so I am lazy)
• That I use my mental health issue as an excuse for everything (context: Couldn't go to funeral of his familly member, bf actually asked me to not go)

I won't say everything but that's the type of stuff he says, an important detail is that he have schizophrenia. I know it's hard and is different on everyone but.. I feel it shouldn't be an excuse for him to say mean thing? He is under medication, and my boyfriend says that he is in a good state..
But what bugs me is, my boyfriend doesn't say anything about how his brother talks about me, he doesn't tell him the reason why I did or didn't do something, he just let him say whatever he wants..
Today, I was so fricking proud, I took a shower, brushed my teeth, cooked his meal, washed the majority of the dishes.. I texted my bf about it and he was happy and proud, I didn't feel well these last day because something happened so for me it was a big achievement. His brother came tonight, I was in the bedroom because I wanted to rest.
"She should have done all the dishes, she just have that to do" is what he said.
That thing broke my confidence and efforts. Everything that I was proud of just vanished. Bf didn't say anything.
I cried, I told my bf later that night that I was tired of always hearing comments that hurt me. It's not the first time that I talked about his comments to my boyfriend, but everytime he just say "he has schizophrenia, just let him be, ignore him"
I don't know what to do, should I just leave earlier? It really doesn't help constantly hearing that stuff, it makes it harder to be productive.
What should I do? Is the relationship worth saving? My bf is my only friend and I'm scared of making the wrong choice, I'm confused about everything
TL;DR : BF just tells me to ignore what his brother says because he have schizophrenia, he says stuff like I'm lazy for not working but I can't work because of my autism

We are human
Teeth erupt into our mouths
Our feet hurt if we walk for too long
Sometimes, we have B.O
We are human
Creatures of habit
Our brains are wired in our own individual and distinct ways of thinking
Many times, these preemptive ways of thinking clash with others’
Miscommunication, incompatibility
No matter how hard we try, understanding will not be reached
So, we must sit with this frustration
Bask in the fact
Now, we must realize and move on
We’re human

Abner had spent months preparing for this, he couldn't give failure any consideration. He loaded his rifle with silver bullets and put an engraved saddle in the back of his truck. He drove through old country roads for hours, the sun setting behind his truck after a while.
He was searching along river banks until he found it. A beautiful black stallion with a dark brown mane that glistened in the sun. The stallion's eyes locked on his with something else behind its gaze, almost a sense of recognition. At that moment, Abner knew what it was, a kelpie.
Abner steeled his nerves and shut off his truck, stepping out slowly whilst keeping eye contact with the beast. Abner called out to the creature "It's okay boy. I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to bring you somewhere safe." Abner removed his saddle from the truck bed and carefully approached the creature.
"Hi, boy. I know you like your space, but you're too close to civilization. Its dangerous." Abner carefully approached the Kelpie. As soon as he was within reach, he sprung the saddle onto the Kelpie, making it thrash about and send Abner to the ground.
Abner could barely process it. His lungs were emptied and his brain was rattled. The kelpie began calming down as the saddle's engravings lightly glowed. Abner struggled to his feet, coughing and gasping for a few seconds before gently petting the horse. "Don't worry. I'll keep you safe boy. No humans will ever hurt you now."
As he guided the kelpie to his truck bed, its movements were that of something just barely solid as It practically melted into his truck bed, baring its sharp teeth as a warning. Abner went to the passenger side door, and took a bag of meat and a water bottle out. He dumped the meat in front of the kelpie and poured the water onto the creature's back. The kelpie absorbed the water and quickly scarfed down the meat. Abner locked the truck bed and hopped into the driver's seat, before heading back to his nome.)
It’s a rough draft but I’m curious what I should prioritize. Pacing, setting, etc etc. I’m open to completely scraping this beginning if it’s right a good place to start.

Already posted this is shrooms but thought I would post here as well. This is very important: I DO NOT CONDONE THE USE OF SUBSTANCES this is for educational purposes only
A little backstory, I’m 19M and have stuttered all my life. I’m not a very self conscious person but stuttering is my kryptonite. When I say I stutter I don’t mean I trip up on words hear and there I mean nearly every word I say can take me anywhere from a second to 30 seconds if I’m really having a bad block. A good portion of my life revolves around my stuttering. It dictates anything from my major in college to even the food I eat. It makes me feel less than human and is stopping me from being the person I want to be, at least that’s what it feels like. Through the years I have naively taken substances when I was far too young to both experiment and suppress the anxieties caused/formed by my stutter. Some of the substances were prescribed like Xanax and adderall while others I took to recreationally like MDMA, MDA, shrooms, LSD, alcohol, weed and some other more niche compounds. Most of there were done at wayyy to young of an age and I wouldn’t doubt it some of these causes lasting side effects even the LSD and shrooms which are physically safe. I stopped taking those drugs besides weed and alcohol until this year. (Sorry for the long backstory started rambling)
Fast forward to now me and three of my friends went on a climbing road trip with the first destination on our trip being Zion. We planned to take a 1/8 of GT each besides for my one friend who was going to take 2.5 since it was his first time. We took them on an empty stomach and started walking to our pre planned spot. They start hitting and fast, I have a decent bit of experience taking shrooms and have taken up to 5g with a good bit of experience of taking around 1/8 but these hit me like a train. We settle down in our spot when my friend who’s first time it was doing shrooms takes off with no shoes on in Zion national park without saying a word. It took us a while to realize because prior to taking off he was chilling in a dead tree near by and thought he needed some alone time. Anyways the three of us that are left start getting worried and we don’t know what to do. My one friend starts looping, saying “where’s __” over and over again but unfortunately repeating his name doesn’t summon him. At this point we are stopping balls and have no clue what to do but wait and hope he returns. I tried to calm him down saying he will be fine but honestly I wasn’t sure but at the time we couldn’t come up with a plan to find him (we did go looking for him but we were looping so hard there was no chance). This caused a lot of subtle anxiety for the first part of our trip with my one friend ever minute or so saying “where’s __” still. Our lost friend eventually appears out of the brush looking like a 6” 3’ hobbit it was quite a sight. I was scaring thinking he was off having a horrible trip or got hurt but the first thing he says is I quote “I know everything” to which I laughed and though to myself I have had that thought before this kid is tripping balls. Anyways we were all very relived but he tried to leave again saying he was feeling better away from the group which I get we probably weren’t giving off the best vide at that point but we didn’t want to stress over losing his again so I decided to tag along. This is where the stuttering backstory comes in, sorry again for the long post I wasn’t expecting to give a full trip report but here we are.
I was sitting with him on a tree nearby when we started taking about what he had just experienced/ is experiencing. It was very broken English but he was saying how we are all one and exclaimed how beautiful the whole experience had been and started asking me question about my trip and past trips. We somehow got to the topic of anxiety and the cause of it. When I started thinking about it I started to have very basic but meaningful realizations about my anxiety surrounding my stutter. I started speaking to my friend and rarely stuttering and even when I did, I didn’t care one bit, the anxiety I usually feel in the back of my throat wasn’t there and I could speak for the first time in my life. The whole we are all one mind set along with the heavy ego dissolution made me not care about if I stuttered or not it was beautiful. I felt like I could talk to anyone and not have the weight of my stutter glooming over me. I realized they are just people and their judgment (if they even are judging because the assumption that they are judging me is egotistical in a way since I am assuming they care about me enough to judge) shouldn’t effect the way I carry out my life and stop me from being happy. I also thought I am the one causing this anxiety for myself and all of this worry is for nothing since why be shameful about something I can’t change. I would always try to tell myself these things in my day to day life but I never really felt it. When I was tripping I was able to feel these thought and look at them in a new perspective I have never been able to in the past. No amount of alcohol, Xanax, MDMA or any other drug for that matter could have shown me that. During the trip I though I had cured my stutting even telling me friend I think I won’t be stuttering any more after this. Unfortunately this wasn’t the case but now I know it’s possible to reach that point, I feel I should have done a better job integrating my trip but there is still time and I plan to work on it. Maybe I say fuck it and pull a Paul stamets instead ha no jk. Anyways that’s a long story long sorry it was so drawn out and all over the place this wasn’t even the full trip but some of the more important bits. Hope you got something out of this but it was more of a vent because as one would image verbally telling a story to someone feels impossible with a stutter so it feels good get it out somehow.

I got all four wisdom teeth out 4 days ago. I was already over 1 week into my 4th set of trays with no problems when I had the surgery. And I've been consistently wearing the trays for 22 hours each day after surgery, just as I had beforehand.
But holy fucking hell. My teeth have been constantly hurting and aching since day 2 post-surgery, as if it's my first day with braces on or something. When my Invisalign trays are out during meals, my teeth feel totally fine and the incision sites don't even bother me much.
But goddamn, as soon as those trays go back in, my mouth hurts! Pain aches down each root! I have to fight the urge to gnaw on chewies constantly at work. It's particularly my front teeth. I wouldn't say it's "severe" pain at all, but it's so constant that it's driving me insane and making it hard to focus. I just want to rip these trays out of my mouth and I only get some reprieve from it when taking the post-surgical codeine each night.
What the hell is causing this? The swelling at the back of my mouth? I feel like my face is only slightly swollen at this point. Why is my whole mouth hurting so goddamn badly?? I'm obviously going to keep the trays in my mouth and tough it out, but I'm seriously dreading having to switch to my next set of trays tomorrow night when they already hurt this badly!
Anyone else experience this??

So I have been in my youngest steps sons life since he was 3.5 he is now 8. Biomom is in and out at best, and just disappeared at worst. She hasn't seen him or his siblings in over a year. She hasn't spoken to them before today since January. And he has called me mom for several years, completely unprompted.
Today she called and he made her a picture that says #1 mom and is covered in hearts. As he calls me mom and her by her first name (his theripist said not to try and discourage this just to let him) I assumed the picture was for me and put it up on the fridge. He came in from playing outside and said "oh mom, I made that for Susan" and I know it shouldn't have hurt my feelings but it did. I know I'm not his mom, sometimes the reminder just really hurts.
Ofcourse I just said "oh that was very nice of you" and he took it down from the fridge and put it on the counter. It was just really a kick in the teeth.
TLDR: Step son 8 who I have been raising longer then his mother who he doesn't even call mom, made her a #1 mom poster after she spoke to him for the first time in months and it really felt like a suckered punch.

So in 2020 I got my wisdom teeth removed. There were two bottom ones and I didn’t have any problems other than some puss. But I was given a special mouth wash and I was told I didn’t have a dry socket.
Flash forward and all is well but on one side of my mouth I still have that swelling. It doesn’t bother me unless I chew on that side. My dentist said to thoroughly floss there and to make sure I’m brushing back there. And I do, but there have been zero changes.
I really don’t feel comfortable posting a picture of my mouth on the internet so I will describe it. I would say it looks like a really bad pimple. It’s tall and rounded. It’s red like the rest of my gums. Maybe a tad darker. And it hurts a little when you mess with it.
Does anyone have any idea of what it could be and how I should treat it?

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

Throw away account. But I’m nervous. I just filed my first ever Medical Board Complaint against a doctor. I know the Medical Board won’t really do much. My understanding of the MB is they are more of a headache and hassle and rarely reprimand. But still I’m nervous. Cause do doctors not like MB complaints? Or do you not really mind them?
Basically what happened is I went to the ED for concerns of Serotonin Toxicity. Or Serotonin Syndrome (SS). I was taking vyvanse and just started prozac. And more recently just upped my prozac dose. Upon upping my dose, I began shaking, sweating, no appetite, didn’t sleep for 3 days, was having moments of disorientation and confusion. Spouse also said my pupils were dilated. As the days went on my shaking got worse. My muscles, specifically my legs hurt so badly. I wanted to sleep. But I couldn’t physically stop shaking to sleep. And by day 2, my eyes were shaking side to side as well. My prescribing doc had told me about SS. She said “you won’t have to guess if you’re experiencing SS cause it will truly be so awful, you won’t have to wonder. Before going to the ED I looked up SS on UpToDate to make sure I wasn’t being over dramatic, that it wasn’t something I could handle at home, and just make sure my symptoms even remotely matched up. And they did. So I was like well heck let me go rule it out at least cause I’m just getting worse as time goes on and the longer I take this new upped prozac dose.
In the ED my bp was 160/105, heart rate was 160’s. I told them I had concerns for SS because of the meds I take and how I just upped my Prozac dose. My symptoms. Etc. keep in mind. I’m trembling and jerking uncontrollably for 3 days now, haven’t slept in 3 days either. It was horrible. Doctor comes in, I reiterate everything to him ( as quickly as I can bc my teeth are chattering from my shakes) They do a full work up. CBC, CMP, TNT5, Urinalysis, chest xray, ECG. He listens to my heart and lung’s anteriorly for 5 seconds.
While I’m waiting for my results. The staff is outside my door talking incredibly loud. They are talking about a deceased pt a few rooms beside me. The pt name, dob, MRN, what they received as care, the patients ailments, etc. literally everything about this pt. And how we happened to have the same doctor that night (there was multiple dr in the ED that night, we just happened to share one). I thought to myself “Gosh that’s so awful. When the doctor comes in here, if he seems off or sad, I need to give him some grace because that must be really hard”
So the doctor comes in. And tell me looks like all my labwork is good, that I should just go home and get some rest and that I have 30 protein and 70 ketones in my urine so I should also drink water and eat something. I told him again, I would love to rest, but I have slept in 3 days and I can’t sleep bc of my symptoms. He then prescribes me a sleep aid and immediately walks out of the room. I was confused because he never once mentioned the SS concern? Like ever at all? Just said my labs looked good.
So the nurse comes in with my discharge paperwork. And I asked her if the doctor remembered which pt and concerns I was having. Bc I understood it was a busy night for them and mix ups can happen. But my concern for SS wasn’t mentioned. She said he definitely remembered me. That he just doesn’t know the reason for my shaking or my other symptoms and my labs look fine. I told her that’s reassuring my labs are fine but there’s not SS labs so how are we sure we’ve ruled SS out? She rolls her eyes and huffs and leaves. She comes back with the dr and he rips open my ED room curtain and punches the light on. And he goes “Look Kid. You’re going home! You’re not in any emergency whatsoever!!” I said “no that’s fine. I just want to make sure we’ve ruled SS out as..” and he cuts me off and says “Look. You’ve had a FULL work up. Your labs are fine. You being here right now isn’t going to get you the answers you want” I said “No I understand my labs are fine, but there’s no such thing as Serotonin Syndrome labs, it’s an exclusion dx so how are we sure we’ve ruled it out?” And he goes “You know what. Let’s have psychiatry come take a look at you and do a psych eval for you. But. How about this? I’ll be nice about it. You can do it inpatient tonight, or outpatient since you’re leaving. Your choice” I was absolutely appalled by this intimidation tactic. But I could see it for what it was. He was probably emotional over the other pt’s death. Or was on a power trip and hated me having questions. Or both. So I said “I’ll do it outpatient. Thanks” and I begin taking my monitors off so I can go on home. As I’m taking my monitors off he goes “Nope. Stop. Something doesn’t seem right about you. Are you safe at home? You seem really emotional and off” just to give him something to get off my back I said “I’m good. Just about to get my period I guess” and he goes “Mm makes sense. Well sounds good kid!!” And leaves.
I complained to the hospital about it. And told them about me hearing everything about the deceased pt. Literally repeated back to them this pt name, DOB, MRN, care, etc. Cause I thought that would be a Hipaa violation? But they said they found no wrong doings and that they are satisfied with the care and “psychiatric evaluation offer” I was “offered”. Which I get they have to stand by their employees. But I guess we’ll see what the medical board has to say. What I think is incredibly interesting is that according to the hospital they addressed my SS concerns during my ED visit. So this would now mean that SS can now be diagnosed via labwork and heart and lung sounds. And no longer being on one serotonin drug AND one Hunter Criteria. Never mind the fact I was on 2 serotonin drugs and had more than one hunter criteria. And the fact that UpToDate says “there are no labs to indicate serotonin syndrome” this is now a medical catalyst!!! A complete 180 has been found by this doctor and hospital. Truly a break through. But regardless, I hope this inspires him to stop treating patients that way. Do doctors not enjoy MB complaints? Or are they no biggie?
So I don’t get deleted-
Age 33
Sex female
Height 5’6
Weight 120lb
Race mixed
Duration of complaint 3 days
Location USA
Any existing relevant medical issues NA
Current medications prozac, vyvanse

I'll try to keep this brief but I have a lot to say and I tend to ramble. I (20F but 19 at the time) have been broken up with my ex (20F) for almost a year now. When we first ended things I felt SO MUCH RELIEF I was in almost a euphoric state for the first week or two. I knew she was extremely toxic but didn't care to question it because I was just so happy to never have to see or speak to her again but quickly that wore off and I realized just how terribly she treated me. In the past month or two it's starting to get to me again after a few conversations with close friends where I told the stories of things she did to me, hoping to have a laugh at the absurdity but underneath realizing just how much she put me through. I still can't accept that it was truly mental or emotional or verbal etc. abuse. I guess I just want somebody to tell me if I'm victimizing myself, or if my mental illness is making me delusional if I was the real abuser the whole time, or if we were both toxic (all her words). I just wanna list off some of the things she did, partially for myself to lay it all out and partially to ask everyone here if I'm the problem or if she was just toxic w/o being "abusive". I'm avoiding specific details because I don't want anyone I know to stumble upon this and know it's me so apologies if theres little context but here it is:

• biggest one on the top: when we first got together I had just gotten out of a relationship and was struggling metally. I had been in therapy for a while before we met and started mood stablizers soon after we were together. she constantly would use this against me to tell me i'm crazy, that my mental illness was ruining our relationship, that i was "a disease", that I was just like her crazy ex etc.
  
• another huge one! she insisted on extravagant expensive gifts then later expected unquestioned obedience because of it. when i caught on to this and began denying gifts it would cause arguments
  
  • i identified as bisexual at the time which she constantly used against me. if we were ever in the presence of men, even if i didnt interact with them, she would get mad and either give me the silent treatment or start an argument about it. when i expressed multiple times that I may not be attracted to men she would get angry because it proved to her how "easily impressionable" i am
  • constant lies. about things my friends or even my mom had said allegedly about me (they never did), about things that she had or hadn't done, she would even tell lies to my friends and mother about things that I had allegedly said about them (i never did) even right in front of me but she was so convincing to everyone around us that I seemed like the liar no matter how much i denied or explained
  • insults! mainly about me but also my friends and family
  • always wanting a reaction so that she could then point to me as an abuser. e.g: screaming at me and throwing things until i removed myself into a seperate room where she followed me and recorded me without my knowlege as she taunted me until I yelled at her to leave me alone, then played back the recording to show me how poorly i talk her
• she told me so many times that my majors were not as difficult or as important and I "couldn't possibly understand" how much more effort and intellect it took for what she studied (we're both in college and I'm literally a double major!! if that matters)
  
  • told me she was embarrassed of me because my interests and hobbies weren't "resume-worthy"
  • belittled my morals and values, the things i thought were important whether they were big things or small, and my plans for the future
  • controlling to an INTENSE degree. e.g: getting upset with me because i wouldn't let HER floss MY teeth or threatening to break up with me because I wouldn't hide my stuffed animals in the closet when she came over
  • laughed and called me things like pathetic unstable when i would try to tell her certain things she said and did were hurting me. was just all around very cruel and mericless with her words to the point where I seriously think she was nearly incapable of empathy
  • she told me things about myself as if they were fact. this one is hard to explain but for instance: "you just let your s/o's walk all over you" or "youre just not a hard worker". it was said so causally and matter of factly that it wasn't even an insult just an absolute truth she had observed
  • things she admitted to before we broke up: when i opened up to her about my ex and things i went through as a child she later admitted that she was happy that i was "weak" and would tolerate poor treatment. she admitted that she would poke and taunt and yell her own mother until she got the reaction she wanted so that she point out "how crazy she was acting". she admitted to reading my journal the first time she came over to see the excerpts of my ex and, again, figure out just how badly she could treat me.
  • I do want to say that she never actually hit me or physically assualted me but she would often imitate in the moment that she was about to (partially because she wanted to hit me, and partially because she knew it would trigger me because I was abused as a child, again she admitted this part)
  • in arguments: deflected, shifted blame, gaslit, yelled, threw things, hit nearby objects, etc. these arguments would go in circles for hours with the topics ending up miles away from what the intital point was. things typically went from "that didnt happen" to "it did happen but i didnt mean it" to "i meant it but you deserved it". even when I gave in that wasn't enough, she would just leave and ignore me for a day or two
  • she often wouln't take accountability and instead would try to psychoanalyze why what she did upset me, blaming it on my childhood or my ex but never on her actions
  • profuse apologies afterwards. she always promised to stop and to go to therapy but that never happened. somehow she was able to do this without ever actually acknowleging that what she did was wrong
  • i won't go into detail but when it came to bedroom activites there were a few rare times when consent was ... unclear. especially near the end when she was often insistent that I would drink more (she was sober)
  • when i caught on to these patterns by calling her out for fake apologies, gaslighting, lying, manipulation, not taking the bait by reacting, sticking to my boundaries, not letting her deflect in arguments etc. she would throw full temper tantrums. screaming crying throwing herself on the ground type of tantrums. I was so drained at that point that all i could do was just sit and watch and wait for her to stop
  • her poor mom had gotten it for 20 years before me. she told me multiple times to get out of the relationship but i never listened. I hope shes doing well but i'm afraid that checking up on her might invite my ex back into my life

i'm sure that when i post this i'll think of a million more things but this is what i could think of off the top of my head sorry its so long. Writing this all out its so clear that this wasnt normal but i still constantly question whether im just erasing my own hand in it, refusing to acknowlege all the harmful things i did or how i somehow forced her to be this way, if i truly am just so delusional that i made all of this up because i want to be a victim, if i was the one who abused her first, if its my fault because i stayed and let it happen. and if none of those things are true then what do i do from here? I'm moved on and so insanely happy to be single and never have to interact with her again but i'm realizing more and more how much it has affected me.
tldr: my ex gf fits a ton of the criteria for an abuser but i still question whether i am making it up and/or if im the actual abuser just manipulating the situation for my own gain. if i'm not the abuser then how do i accept it and not be affected by it anymore?

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

( I POSTED EARLIER BUT NOT SURE I DID IT RIGHT, TRYING Again) SOOOO let me start off with, the reason I'm confused is bc it doesn't make any sense. SO A Month ago I had a Retreat RC with a tooth on top ( endo did the retreat) then I had a tooth pulled that already had a root canal/crown just last week ( last Wednesday), it was also a back top tooth#2, I have been doing salt Walter rinses amd finished my Antibiotics on Saturday. ( it was my 3rd round of Abx my 1st round Amixocillin 7 days was 2 weeks before my Retreat bc my dentist said it may have been a sinus infection bc xrays showed NO INFECTION, went to Endo he started the Retreat with a drain and put Medicine in and sealed it up put me on my (2nd Round Antibiotics ) Keflex for 7 days, then 3 weeks later went back to finish up Retreat root canal, everything went awesome, but he let me know that my back top tooth #2 which had crown/rootcanal was loose and had a crack he could see on the x ray but I had already had a bad taste coming from it which I had already told my dentist, and he said it looked fine and it was probably from the one that was being retreated which he had said that it didn't have any infection ( it was infected based on what endo said, but My Dentist informed me that Endos can see more bc of their equipment, although my Dentist done a xRay that went all away around my head and he had stated he could see everything) so I had called my Dentist to make an appointment to have crown took off to look at it, but then with rge Money adding up so quickly I said let's pull it bc Endo said by what he saw it probably needed pulled and he was correct, it was decayed pretty bad, it's been less than a week it was pulled, but before they pulled it 4 days before I was put on a (3rd round of Abx Amoxicillin 9 days, [it was for 10 days but dropped my bottle and 3 of my pills got soaked] ) went had #2 extracted so far so good, THEN THIS MORNING HAPPENS!!!! Getting to my question, so sorry.
So I brushed my teeth and I have been noticing that bottom tooth # 30 which has also had a root canal with a crown just a couple years ago by my Dentist, has been sensitive and been told that is normal and since I have had the top extraction just 5 days ago I have noticed it is sore maybe from the pressure of biting on guaze trying to get bleeding to stop from the extraction ( I was bleeding for 8 Hrs pretty heavy)I'm not sure, ANYWAY then I noticed a hard Bump that was the color of my skin it was just a Hard bump with NO white on it like a pimple, but it was hard so I called my Dentist they said to come in at 12PM only 3 hrs away, so I was in the car before going in and I pulled the side of my mouth to look at it and pulled tight and then I tasted a salty taste,, ( the pressure from pulling the skin to look at it must have popped it) didn't see anything but BUMP GOT SMALLER, as I'm walking into my Dentist, x ray was done with a visual exam , ( no tapping of teeth or cold/hot sensitivity test just visual and xRay) was glaced at for maybe 10 seconds when I showed him where a very tiny bump remained (bc my dumb butt had to look at it and mess with it before he looked at it, so it popped amd went down quickly)and he gets up takes gloves off and said no sign of infection , so I asked what it was and the taste I explained to him once again, he said IDK I see nothing, he then says maybe a Mucosa Gland but not sure bc nothing is there, I asked if he could see where it was leaking, he said no signs of infection, I remind him I was told the same when I did have infection when he sentt me to the endo. So I felt embarrassed and so stupid and felt so small bc I felt he just didn't believe me bc his tone, didn't even explain anything to me, so abt 6 hrs later it's coming back slowly, amd I called my detist office again to let them know the bump is returning amd sometimes I taste a salty taste,the office staff called me back amd said he said he could put me on anorher round of antibiotics( 4th round) just in case it is an infection or gum boil, or it may just be a mucosa cyst ( i thought cyst didnt drain?)I reminded them I had just finished a 9 day ABX ( my 3rd round) not even 48 hrs ago, then I told her I wanted to ask him questions bc I never had a " Abcess/ Gum Boil/Mucosa Cyst, but he literally was in that room with me MAYBE 1.5 MINUTES, she asked me what would I need to know, I then changed the subject amd asked what should I do going foward, Their Amswer since I'm" denying" My 4th round of Antibiotics within a month and a half was to see if it keeps coming back, maybe wait a month or so, touch base if any significant change and go from there. I asked if maybe I should go to an oral surgeon for them to glance at it. I was told no , I couldn't get a referral let's just wait and see, I explained to them if IF it's an infection I would take my 4th round of Antibiotics but he said it wasn't an infection this morning , amd I asked twice as he was walking out if he was sure it wasn't t an infection, he stated NO It isn't, then while walking down the hall I asked him one more time if he was sure it wasn't an infection he said NO, if it was am abcess it would show up on xray. He then stated real loud NOTHING NOTHING Is there and IF something Appears call us, I felt so small. But I did call, and I still have NO ANSWERS after paying $110.00 today for NOTHING!!!! I also have Crohns so being on alot of Antibiotics cam really mess me up, amd ir it's truly not an infection you don't need an Antibiotic, or so I thought. So I said and explained all that, to ask, is it possible to have a "Gum boil" without any infection? The hard Bump is not right under tooth #30, it's more over we're #29 ( but #29 is gone just empty space) so it's way down on gums Like where your inside cheeks go down and meet ur gums, I hope I'm explaining that right, anyway again it's not right up under tooth #30 I would say if #29 was there it would be under that tooth all the way down past gums where gums meets ur cheeks. ( when I'm home I may be able to get a picture to explain better) but again #30 has been sore and hurting off and on since extraction again I thought it was from me bitting down on that guaze all those hrs, I had alot of pressure on them, but before that I had explained to them that it was sensitive to sweets, amd some colds was told it was normal, so again here are my questions!!
What could it be if it isn't infection?
Should I get a 2nd opinion?
If it's an abcess , are abcess hard to leak out, does it take alot to pop am abcess? ( again there was no white pimple looking bump or any blood or pus that leaked out it was just clear n salty, amd the color of bump was the color of my gums)?
How fast do abcess fill back up if it's an infection amd would it hurt and could u see where it leaked or popped fluid from? Would it look like a sore after it pops? ( mine hasn't filled all the way up as it was this morning but i can tell it's coming back, it's slow.
Should I take another 4th round of Antibiotics without knowing it's a true infection?
I have spent $2,800 in the past Month and half, and I'm so scared I'm gonna have to lose another tooth bc I can't afford another Retreat, and I'm scared my dentist doesn't really care or maybe just doesn't know, but being told to wait it out, if it's am abcess wouldn't that be dangerous? I hope I explained amd to anyone that cares to explain anything to me abt what you think my Dentist is thinking please explain to me bc I don't even know. All I l ow to do, is wait and see what happens. And was told to try to wait atleast a month. THANKS and GOD BLESS!!!!

My DX boyfriend has been struggling to find the right combination of Adderall that works well for him. This is the fourth time they’ve altered his meds. He’s now on 15mg instant release, and can take one in the morning and another in the afternoon if needed. I personally feel like it’s not really helping… He’s moody, He’s all over the place, which is to be expected as he’s bipolar without medication for that. But yes, he gets things done I suppose.
For the past week now, my boyfriend cannot just sit down and spend time with me. Every time he comes to my house, he’s cleaning or cooking or something. Honestly I’m exhausted just watching him. Is this normal…?
Today, he came home from work and I walked in to him vacuuming the floors. Then he rearranged the furniture in the extra bedroom (we’d mentioned it a couple of times), Then he cooked dinner. I walked downstairs to check on him and he’s still piddling around just doing all kinds of random tasks and I’m trying to grit my teeth and be grateful that he’s helping so much but I’m really frustrated.
I just want him to sit down and hang out and I have not seen him sit for more than an hour except to sleep.
Help???

SOOOO let me start off with, the reason I'm confused is bc it doesn't make any sense. SO A Month ago I had a Retreat RC with a tooth on top ( endo did the retreat) then I had a tooth pulled that already had a root canal/crown just last week ( last Wednesday), it was also a back top tooth#2, I have been doing salt Walter rinses amd finished my Antibiotics on Saturday. ( it was my 3rd round of Abx my 1st round Amixocillin 7 days was 2 weeks before my Retreat bc my dentist said it may have been a sinus infection bc xrays showed NO INFECTION, went to Endo he started the Retreat with a drain and put Medicine in and sealed it up put me on my (2nd Round Antibiotics ) Keflex for 7 days, then 3 weeks later went back to finish up Retreat root canal, everything went awesome, but he let me know that my back top tooth #2 which had crown/rootcanal was loose and had a crack he could see on the x ray but I had already had a bad taste coming from it which I had already told my dentist, and he said it looked fine and it was probably from the one that was being retreated which he had said that it didn't have any infection ( it was infected based on what endo said, but My Dentist informed me that Endos can see more bc of their equipment, although my Dentist done a xRay that went all away around my head and he had stated he could see everything) so I had called my Dentist to make an appointment to have crown took off to look at it, but then with rge Money adding up so quickly I said let's pull it bc Endo said by what he saw it probably needed pulled and he was correct, it was decayed pretty bad, it's been less than a week it was pulled, but before they pulled it 4 days before I was put on a (3rd round of Abx Amoxicillin 9 days, [it was for 10 days but dropped my bottle and 3 of my pills got soaked] ) went had #2 extracted so far so good, THEN THIS MORNING HAPPENS!!!! Getting to my question, so sorry.
So I brushed my teeth and I have been noticing that bottom tooth # 30 which has also had a root canal with a crown just a couple years ago by my Dentist, has been sensitive and been told that is normal and since I have had the top extraction just 5 days ago I have noticed it is sore maybe from the pressure of biting on guaze trying to get bleeding to stop from the extraction ( I was bleeding for 8 Hrs pretty heavy)I'm not sure, ANYWAY then I noticed a hard Bump that was the color of my skin it was just a Hard bump with NO white on it like a pimple, but it was hard so I called my Dentist they said to come in at 12PM only 3 hrs away, so I was in the car before going in and I pulled the side of my mouth to look at it and pulled tight and then I tasted a salty taste,, ( the pressure from pulling the skin to look at it must have popped it) didn't see anything but BUMP GOT SMALLER, as I'm walking into my Dentist, x ray was done with a visual exam , ( no tapping of teeth or cold/hot sensitivity test just visual and xRay) was glaced at for maybe 10 seconds when I showed him where a very tiny bump remained (bc my dumb butt had to look at it and mess with it before he looked at it, so it popped amd went down quickly)and he gets up takes gloves off and said no sign of infection , so I asked what it was and the taste I explained to him once again, he said IDK I see nothing, he then says maybe a Mucosa Gland but not sure bc nothing is there, I asked if he could see where it was leaking, he said no signs of infection, I remind him I was told the same when I did have infection when he sentt me to the endo. So I felt embarrassed and so stupid and felt so small bc I felt he just didn't believe me bc his tone, didn't even explain anything to me, so abt 6 hrs later it's coming back slowly, amd I called my detist office again to let them know the bump is returning amd sometimes I taste a salty taste,the office staff called me back amd said he said he could put me on anorher round of antibiotics( 4th round) just in case it is an infection or gum boil, or it may just be a mucosa cyst ( i thought cyst didnt drain?)I reminded them I had just finished a 9 day ABX ( my 3rd round) not even 48 hrs ago, then I told her I wanted to ask him questions bc I never had a " Abcess/ Gum Boil/Mucosa Cyst, but he literally was in that room with me MAYBE 1.5 MINUTES, she asked me what would I need to know, I then changed the subject amd asked what should I do going foward, Their Amswer since I'm" denying" My 4th round of Antibiotics within a month and a half was to see if it keeps coming back, maybe wait a month or so, touch base if any significant change and go from there. I asked if maybe I should go to an oral surgeon for them to glance at it. I was told no , I couldn't get a referral let's just wait and see, I explained to them if IF it's an infection I would take my 4th round of Antibiotics but he said it wasn't an infection this morning , amd I asked twice as he was walking out if he was sure it wasn't t an infection, he stated NO It isn't, then while walking down the hall I asked him one more time if he was sure it wasn't an infection he said NO, if it was am abcess it would show up on xray. He then stated real loud NOTHING NOTHING Is there and IF something Appears call us, I felt so small. But I did call, and I still have NO ANSWERS after paying $110.00 today for NOTHING!!!! I also have Crohns so being on alot of Antibiotics cam really mess me up, amd ir it's truly not an infection you don't need an Antibiotic, or so I thought. So I said and explained all that, to ask, is it possible to have a "Gum boil" without any infection? The hard Bump is not right under tooth #30, it's more over we're #29 ( but #29 is gone just empty space) so it's way down on gums Like where your inside cheeks go down and meet ur gums, I hope I'm explaining that right, anyway again it's not right up under tooth #30 I would say if #29 was there it would be under that tooth all the way down past gums where gums meets ur cheeks. ( when I'm home I may be able to get a picture to explain better) but again #30 has been sore and hurting off and on since extraction again I thought it was from me bitting down on that guaze all those hrs, I had alot of pressure on them, but before that I had explained to them that it was sensitive to sweets, amd some colds was told it was normal, so again here are my questions!!
What could it be if it isn't infection?
Should I get a 2nd opinion?
If it's an abcess , are abcess hard to leak out, does it take alot to pop am abcess? ( again there was no white pimple looking bump or any blood or pus that leaked out it was just clear n salty, amd the color of bump was the color of my gums)?
How fast do abcess fill back up if it's an infection amd would it hurt and could u see where it leaked or popped fluid from? Would it look like a sore after it pops? ( mine hasn't filled all the way up as it was this morning but i can tell it's coming back, it's slow.
Should I take another 4th round of Antibiotics without knowing it's a true infection?
I have spent $2,800 in the past Month and half, and I'm so scared I'm gonna have to lose another tooth bc I can't afford another Retreat, and I'm scared my dentist doesn't really care or maybe just doesn't know, but being told to wait it out, if it's am abcess wouldn't that be dangerous? I hope I explained amd to anyone that cares to explain anything to me abt what you think my Dentist is thinking please explain to me bc I don't even know. All I l ow to do, is wait and see what happens. And was told to try to wait atleast a month. THANKS and GOD BLESS!!!!

Hey guys
I'm 5 months pregnant and due in September. I'm a 23 YO girl who just got out of homelessness. I am in credit card debt, my score falls more and more each day, and I suffer from a range of mental illnesses (Depression, bipolar -doctors suspect, still need tests ran to confirm -ADHD, OCD, and anxiety)
I just got back into school, and I'm getting used to "being a student" again. Surprisingly, I'm doing very well - I actually graduated with the top of my class back in high school, so academics are something that have always come easy to me. As far as employment, I work an extremely part time job as of now and barely get any hours in. Before I went back to school, I was a notorious job hopper, mostly due to personal life reasons but a few reasons being job performance and anger out bursts + rage quitting at work.
before discovering how dysfunctional and incapable of fitting into society I was - it has always been a dream of mine to be a mom. I feel like I come from a very broken and estranged family, so being able to find/create a family of my own has always been the goal.
I have calmed down and started working on myself a few months before discovering I was pregnant. I plan on getting on medication as soon as my son arrives and I am actively looking for CBT therapists to hopefully help me become functional again. My patience has gotten better and my anger issues are also improving.
When I was a homeless dancer, I was on drugs (coke, alcohol, adderall, and made some wreckless and impulsive decisions, especially concerning my sexual safety). I slept with 4 guys, but all wore condoms except 2. I would have to request a paternity test from both of them to confirm who the father is, but the guy I really suspect is a long time FWB I had long before becoming homeless. I slept with him to get coke.
That should tell you enough about the mental aptitude of me and the father. He's actually in a good place financially and could help out with co-parenting but he's made it clear he doesn't want to be a father and even told me to go get an abortion even though I'm 5 months in.
I don't want to be associated with either of those two guys after my son is born.
I can't even afford my OBGYN visits - I have to figure out how to meet the deductible for my insurance company or I have to call an adoption agency and find a family who's willing to cover my labor and OBGYN appointments. I also heard horror stories of new borns being taken from their birth mother immediately after labor and I already know myself and know I wouldn't handle a situation like that. I would like to have AT LEAST 30 minutes of holding my baby or spending a few days in the hospital with him before he's taken from me.
I've convinced myself that if I were to put my son up for adoption, he would come back in my life but that is no guarantee. I'm convinced my financial situation will improve though, and I do think my mental health will be a lot better within the next 5 years but those are no guarantee either. With or without my child, I want to improve my life and I can feel myself never going back to what I was before. My plans are to get a job working assistant admin by next year since I'll have my associates, pay my credit card debt off, and by the time I graduate with my bachelor's, I hope I can land a better paying admin job.
I already know once my son is here, and if I have to give him up for adoption, I'll live everyday with a bitter and broken heart. I was already kind of detached and cold and felt so spiteful and bitter about the world before he came, when I have to give him up, I know I'll be hurt yet again by the world, but at the same time I would love with soooo much relief knowing he's in the hands of a loving two parent home with all the resources he needs. And if something happens with the adoption/foster care system, I pray I'll be in a better financial situation by then and let him come back home.

Hear me out. Let me have the soapbox for just a few minutes.
I‘ve just penned a post about how a specific subset of men refuse to listen to or take women seriously. The comments just proved what I was saying. This is a highly-recorded and well-documented phenomenon. sources will be provided at the bottom of the post. I know this happens to men on other subs. It sucks. But this isn’t what the topic of discussion is today. I’d request you make your own post on the topic as it is a very valid issue that does need to be heard. Anyway, I was complaint about how my little brother and father are completely disrespectful and dismissive towards my mom, taking her pain as some sort of joke. I posted about one example out of many that happen daily: “My little brother did this to my mother on mother’s day. My father saw him opening cards with his teeth. he thought it was gross and told him to stop. He did so immediately.
A few minutes later, he started using his hands to get ice out of my motherl’s ice machine. My mother is neurodivergent and sensitive to certain things, so she was visibly distressed and told him to stop. He didn’t listen to her. He did it three more times and wouldn’t stop. It wasn’t until the rest of my family joined in that he would actually do something.“
The comments were on fire. Save for a few that actually got me, people acted in a way that was a little demoralizing. I see this nigh daily on Reddit. It’s not even remotely new. Over many years across multiple different accounts, this phenomenon has only gotten worse. It’s happened towards both men and women. However, today’s discussion is focusing on women, so please don’t derail.
the first comment I got was disrespectful and immediately brought up men, isninuating that what I was talking about wasn't at all valid. As if I can’t take two seconds to talk about women’s issues without someone bringing up men. Another comment‘s first instinct was to inquire whether my mom was abusive. Yeah, when my mother gets disrespected, it’s HER fault. Even if she brings it up constantly and everyone ignores her, she’s the problem guys! It’s her! Why is it these people’s first thought to pin it on the person being disadvantaged? Just accept that some people suffer in some ways in society.
for example, men don’t have very many support systems. That needs to change, obviously. It brings about a lot of unneeded pain for men young and old and contributes to heaps and heaps of silent frustration. Simultaneously, women aren’t respected or taken seriously in many contexts by men, disproportionately. Women can have a voice, they can speak up, but no one listens. Again, this is pretty well documented and is corroborated in the sources I provided below. I’m not just pulling this out of my ass.
or it’s just because how my father was raised! Maybe my father was raised in a tough environment and doesn't know better after his nigh 50 years of life! Accountability, am I right? Throw it out the window.… Despite the fact that it was my mother who came from a much, much worse upbringing, and she’s among the kindest people I know. Apparently, it’s her job to teach a grown ass man to respect her. My father is a very capable and intelligent human being. It’s an insult to him to insinuate that he somehow doesn’t have the autonomy or capability to check his behavior. He does. he’s a good person, too. It’s just sometimes he can be highly disrespectful towards my mother. That’s all.
Another comment cared to “point out” that apparently, I’m the problem. My entire comment history is supposedly complaining about men. Apparently people who bring up inequalities faced by women has to be a woman, too… and a man-hating one, at that.
yeah. Everyone is the problem, excluding those who constitute the ostensible issue. Blame it on other people.
In sum, the vast majority of the comments sought to justify the behavior immediately, blame it on my mother, or insinuate I was the issue. Only one or two people had their head on their shoulders in my comment section.
The Authority Gap is a good book on the topic regarding getting taken seriously. Here is a an article that summarizes it: https://time.com/6163490/authority-gap-between-men-and-women-hurts-us-all/
papers on the topic:
https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1526590021000353
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30907615/ https://idp.nature.com/transit?redirect_uri=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.nature.com%2Farticles%2Fs41537-020-0102-z&code=2dbfb70b-8238-49c4-961d-33edcace7867

I am 18 years old and I am 151 lbs and I am 6'4. I smoke weed occasionally, and I am a male.
I am currently experiencing an issue on where when I lay my head down to sleep, the upper left side of my mouth begins to pulse and it hurts very badly, and it spreads to my head and gives it a horrible migraine. I haven't slept in a day in a half, and I'm very irritable and I don't know what to do, but the twist is that, when I am standing up and walking around, it doesn't hurt at all. It is only when I try to lay down and go to sleep. It hurts so badly, and I just want to go to sleep. What do you think it is?
I already have teeth issues, because my parents haven't taken me to a dentist since I was 8, and now that I'm 18, I'm doing this all for myself, and I haven't had the time to get my teeth checked out, because I cannot drive, and not a lot of places nearby take my insurance/align with my schedule with work and school.
I really just want to take a nap, but I cannot. What should I do?
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