Usmc monthly counseling sheet

Been struggling with Major depression for 6+ months. It started because of workplace stress but aggravated to a point there is no turning back. I never had any anxiety issues prior to that. Had a healthy lifestyle. Decent personal life. But fate has its plan.
I was trying to find a different opportunity but due to depression , I couldn't do anything.
When I learnt I have depression, I was hoping to get some counseling support. My spouse never believed in those things and refused to allow me to go. It reached a point after 5 months and finally she took me to a psychiatrist with a condition that I shouldn't take tablets after 2 months nor I should go to therapy.
At this point, I lost my ability to work, breathing difficulty, Panic attacks , tinnitus, sleep issues, body tremors as well as suicidal thoughts.
I think Karma or FATE is cruel..I never realized I had mild depression prior to that episode and now I am realizing why I lost interest in many things in life. I am completely useless to anyone including my family now.
I feel bad for my wife and kid. But I am emotionally not able to empathize them. With no theraphy or real support I am just counting my days in this world

My wife and I have been together since 2017. At the time, I had a 2 year old child from a prior relationship. We got married in 2022.
I come from a single mother house where my father was an alcoholic who committed suicide when I was 1. My mom was a hard shift worker who wasn’t home a lot but showed me an abundance of affection and gave me excessive gifts. She is overbearing and doesn’t ever view her actions as wrong.
She comes from a single father house where her mother was killed in a mass shooting when she was 3. Her father worked excessively and was a harsh disciplinarian (or worse) to her brother. Her father is absent and a hoarder with questionable hygiene.
At the beginning of our relationship, I tried to break up with her several times and I told her we weren’t right for each other. She told me she didn’t want to be a mother or have children. I struggled with alcohol and would often say hurtful things towards her when I was intoxicated. She refused to let me go and we would patch up our problems. During 2020-2021, she started to resent me for not asking her to marry her. It would be brought up every couple of months to the point of being a big problem. She has made it clear to me that she does not like asking me for things and would rather me proactively initiate. This caused a paradox of being able to plan a time to ask her to marry me without it seeming like she forced it to happen. I decided I had to seriously get my crap together and be “all in” on the relationship or not with her. I chose to be all in. She sold her house and bought a house closer to my daughter. The day we moved in, I asked her to marry me. Over the course of 2021-2022 and parts of 2023, I still suffered from alcoholic outbursts and would say mean things when we would argue. Shes kicked me out of the house at least 3 times and I’ve left the house at least 3 times. Each time we patch things up over the course of days/weeks/months. I decided to go to counseling and started reading 7 principles of marriage, attachment theory etc. I started listening to podcasts and trying to be better. She is persistent in saying she doesn’t want to go talk to someone but was receptive to being prescribed a pill for depression. She did do virtual sessions with a counselor for a month before there was a miscommunication with her counselor and she felt they didn’t really care about her and/or they weren’t really getting anywhere. She has somewhat isolated herself from friends and family. She talks to her out of state aunt fairly often and in state brother occasionally. She doesn’t hang out with any of her friends or try to make new ones. She says she doesn’t need that and I am that for her. I have a strong core of 5 friends that I talk to fairly often.
I’ve discovered my love language is affection and hers is quality time. We have had multiple conversations about it and have even implemented the state of the union conversations. It’s been helpful but we are guilty for letting it slip away from our schedule. She admits that she struggles with showing affection and I admitted to wanting to be “carefree” and avoid hard or meaningful conversations. I find that she wants me to initiate those conversations and stays somewhat closed off until I pry. When she is quiet (often), I spend a large portion of my time with anxiety wondering if she is mad at me, or wanting me to talk or wanting quiet time.
This week, my buddy had a birthday and she asked if it was wives too. I inquired and told her yes. I asked if she wanted to go and she said no. I asked her twice more and reiterated that wives were going and she said no again. Later in the day, I asked her twice more. The day of the party came and she said she was surprised I didn’t follow up with her. I asked if she wanted to go again and she said no. It turned into an argument and I went without her. I came home and she was upset and said I shouldn’t have left her and I should know to follow up with her and I should know that she would want to go and I shouldn’t have taken no for an answer. It got more heated and she told me she was taking care of my kid while I was playing softball (which she offered to take her to the meeting so I could go) and having fun. She said she takes care of all of us and I don’t take care of her heart. She told Me I should go marry my friends and my whiskey bottle. She says we don’t have meaningful conversations that are fulfilling and we no longer have any spark in our intimacy. She yelled for me to get out of her face during the course of our fight, which I did and then told me I don’t know when to console her when she is crying and just needs a hug. She went to bed in the other room and I did too. I woke up the next morning with a note saying I needed to get my necessities and leave. A few hours later, I sent her a text wishing her a happy Mother’s Day even though I wasn’t sure where we stood. She sarcastically told me that saying it through a text means so much more… I came home and she told me that I blew it by not calling her to wish her a happy Mother’s Day and not taking her to the friends birthday party was so much more damaging than I realize and would be the cause of our demise. She’s told me that all of the people in her life have hurt her and I have hurt her the worst and now she wants to be alone. Our last big fight, she brought our divorce papers and I told her if she ever mentioned divorce again, I would do it because the threat of divorce during an argument gives me extreme anxiety and makes it feel like we can never have a bad argument without it turning to divorce. I went to my counselor and she recommended marriage counseling (again) but said to offer it as a way to find out if we are right for each other or wrong or just the next step. My wife said no thanks. Is there just too much damage?
TL;DR. I drank a lot and said hurtful things. Paired together with her own experiences, I fear I may have caused too much damage to repair.

There's a lot of clinics that have started offering internships that you have to pay for. As a student pursuing a degree in psychology, I thought TalkSpace clinic in Powai would be a good place to start with an internship. But let me tell y'all, from everything I've learnt in my degree, that place breached so many ethical standards. The clinic took 3,500 rs per month for an internship which was not worth the experience at all. They sold the idea of the internship under the pretence that you'd be working under the senior psychologist, Dr. Sheba Singh, instead you had to work under her inexperienced daughter who had only just finished her Masters. The internship didn't let students from the field actually observe cases, rather they made all the interns fight for who would take a new case and sit in with the client. Understandably, most clients said no which would result in the interns wasting approximately 12 hours of their week at the clinic doing nothing. But the psychologists washed their hands off of any responsibility when they didn't live up to their promises of offering cases for the clients to sit in on. I was also made aware that one of the interns there took up a job as a school counsellor without having the qualifications for it and when the junior psychologist was made aware of it, she dismissed it by stating that she was jealous of how she got a counselling job without a Masters degree. It may seem like a minor problem but can cause a lot of damage to kids to have an unqualified person parading around as their school counsellor.
Although the internship opportunities are bleak in this field, please DO NOT let these clinics leech off of you by having you pay to intern there.

I originally had a script that emailed all of the spreadsheets as a PDF, but my current script is no longer working when I'm trying to only PDF one of the spreadsheets called "Log".
I think it has something to do with var pdfBlob, but the logic looks correct.
What am I scripting wrong here

// ts-check let today = new Date(); // Declare as let to avoid hoisting issues console.log(today); let dd = today.getDate(); let mm = today.getMonth() + 1; let yyyy = today.getFullYear(); if (dd < 10) { dd = '0' + dd; } if (mm < 10) { mm = '0' + mm; } today = mm + '-' + dd + '-' + yyyy; console.log(today); function sendLog() { //Get all active spreadsheets in the file var spreadsheet = (SpreadsheetApp.getActiveSpreadsheet()); // Get the "Log" tab var logSheet = (spreadsheet.getSheetByName("Log")); // Get the range of cells containing data in the "Log" tab var logRange = (logSheet.getDataRange()); // Generate PDF for the "Log" tab only var pdfBlob = logSheet.getRange(logRange.getA1Notation()).getAs(MimeType.PDF).setName("Construction Log "+today+".pdf"); var message = { to: "dummyemail@example.com", subject: "[Automated] Email ", body: "Automated Change Order Log for your use.", name: "Dummy Name", attachments: [pdfBlob] } MailApp.sendEmail(message); } 

Hi everyone,
I’m looking to see if anyone can suggest first steps and what should be the appropriate actions moving forward in terms of finding a lawyer and the best approach.
My friend is a permanent resident in Canada. He recently received the charges below and will be making an appearance to court at the end of the month. The charges are as follows:

• CC. (1) Dangerous Operation
• CC. (1) Fail to stop after accident
• CC. (1) Impaired Operation - Alcohol/Drug
• CC. (1) Over 80 (alcohol)
• CC. (1) Possession of property OveUnder
• CC. (1) Theft of motor vehicle

Now I completely understand that these charges are awful and I am not in support in anyway of this situation. However, this friend had a very traumatic life and was homeless at the time with a bad drinking problem and has been doing really well as of late. He started running his own business and he’s trying his best to put a good foot forward.
Can anyone tell me besides speaking to legal counsel ASAP, what kind of time he’s looking at or if there’s anything can be done to help now?
Thanks everybody.

I am not looking for advice or pity. I move out (hopefully permanently) soon. I just want someone else to hear my story.

I am the oldest sibling. I was born several years before my younger half-siblings. My bio dad cheated and my mom left him. She didn’t get an abortion due to personal beliefs. My mom remarried and immigrated to the states. My parents (mom + stepdad) weren’t ready to be parents. They were young and angry and immature. I grew up with that. My half-siblings came into that but were young enough to forget most of it. When I was 12-14, I was acting out and angry and trying to process the trauma of the past and present with no help. I was the typical Asian overachiever under the weight of parental expectations but I acted out at home. Self-harm, backtalk, ungrateful behavior, attempting to commit after being told I was the reason my younger sibling could die (a medical condition unrelated to me.) At 15, I was forced to confess I tried committing S under the threat I would be turned over to a correctional home for troubled youth if I couldn’t give an explanation for my behavior. My mom told me don’t do this to her because she has two other kids to raise. My stepdad screamed PTSD-driven stories from his military tours abroad and told me I had no perspective. My mom told me I had no right to feel like sh*t because her childhood was worse. After, I was grounded for six months, any friends I who knew of my troubled home life were personally scolded by my mom over text, and I withdrew into myself. I went from angry traumatized kid to people pleasing traumatized kid. I found myself and was able to develop a personality in college. I even got myself counseling after dating and breaking up with a guy who was just like my mom. My younger siblings remembered some of the angry parenting past and started acting out in their teen years too. I was blamed for instigating (confirming) and told I was a disappointment. My siblings and parents were able to recover their relationship in a family meeting where I was excluded. I spent a while feeling angry and alone. I’ve processed it now - my siblings don’t have the option to move out like I do. It is easier for them to keep a functioning relationship with our parents. I was punished for acting out at their age. I was told that I knew better, to grow up and stop being a drama queen, that it was my job as the oldest sibling to set a good example. There was no family talk or trying to understand my perspective. I get to see my mom and stepdad be everything to my younger siblings that I never had. Today I watched my mom fill out paperwork for my younger sibling to go to counseling. My stepdad was supportive of therapy for her. I was told therapy was BS and I was faking it in my teen years. I am happy that my half-siblings will not and have not suffered like I did. But it is so, so hard to watch.

Been together six years, two kids. Lots of ups and downs in the relationship but I’ve always thought things were fixable. I’ve been feeling “not loved” since July – I reached out to a long-distance ex in December telling her that things weren’t good here, that I missed feeling loved, that I was sorry for how I treated her ten years ago and my general struggles. Spouse found out on my phone, I told her I had no interest in leaving her, that I loved her. Stopped all communication with the ex. Acknowledged it was an emotional affair.
In February my spouse started a romantic affair with a previous partner (his affair from 9 years ago that was left unfinished) which turned sexual when she was flying to another city to visit a girlfriend. I found out three weeks ago while snooping her phone – while trying by best to repair things at home. I felt absolutely betrayed. She booked him a flight and expensive hotels beyond our means for them to have a four-day seaside retreat / bang fest together coming up in June. She denied it – said he didn’t have a credit card and gave her cash to book a flight, but when I told her I saw everything and reached out to him and said “Hey, we live together, we’re raising kids together and she’s not single” she began packing to move to her sisters.
For three weeks since D-Day I’ve been doing everything against Chump Lady’s advice – I’ve begged, proposed, wrote letters that I can forgive her because I wasn’t very good in December (although the scale is very different). I’ve offered to do anything to fix things – but she’s beyond checked out and still communicating with him. She fully moved out last week and I have a lawyer drafting a separation proposal. I’ve told her that I can forgive the past – but I can’t forgive her going on the trip with him in three weeks. I’ve offered money for the hotels ($600/night) – take the kids, I’ll stay home etc.
I have been going to counselling since January – I’ve gone four times in the past month. Going again tomorrow. A quote that my counsellor told me “She’s showed you that she is the kind if person who can betray her partner without remorse. Think about this - Is she really the kind of person you should WANT to stay in a relationship with”. The logic brain says – no, but my heart does. I love her, our kids, her family. I know we can fix things. I have been trying so hard in communicating since January, trying to rebuild trust, thinking about the relationship – but if they go on their affair week adventure I don’t know if I can ever forgive and move forward with her. She seems fully intent on moving forward with her adventures.

Two years ago, I had just moved to a new house from a different neighbourhood for work. I was settling in and getting used to the place, but I was still lonely and went through bouts of depression.
My ex-boyfriend of five years had ended the relationship a while before I moved, and I wasn't having much luck going on dates. I eventually decided to focus my energy into work and fitness instead, but the loneliness lingered. The house still felt empty at times, and the silence was painful. I went through the motions numbly as the days passed by.
About two months after I had moved in, I started noticed a stray dog pacing around my front yard from time to time. It had big, brown, sad eyes, and there was no collar around its neck. I couldn't tell you what breed it was - a reverse Google image search tells me it looks like an Indian Pariah dog. I could always recognize it, as its left eye was slightly larger and darker than the right, but that gave it some unique charm. After seeing it outside my front door for three days straight, I put up some posters along my street inviting anyone who might have lost a dog to call me. I quickly learned that I probably shouldn't have done that, after getting a few silent calls from an unknown number that I eventually chalked up to being a prankster or some scammer.
I called a local animal shelter and them pictures of the dog. A guy came over to scan the dog for a microchip, but found nothing. He said it was most likely abandoned as a puppy. He could take it back to the shelter, or I could look after it for the time being - they would contact me if anyone ever tried to claim it. My grandad had a german shepherd that I used to love playing with, so I always had a soft spot for dogs and agreed to look after it, even if it was for a while. The guy from the animal shelter advised that if I didn't hear back in a week, I should take it to the vet to get it checked out and microchipped, or to the shelter if I didn't want to keep it.
I took care of the dog and let it roam around the living room, with free access to the back yard. I decided to name him Charlie, and purchased more dog food, a labelled dog collar, some brushes to groom him with and dog toys. The nearest vet was a two hour drive away. Work was busy so I wasn't incredibly flexible for a visit, but I managed to get an appointment booked in two weeks' time.
The first night I spent with Charlie, I realized that he might just be what I needed in my life. Late in the evening, I sat on the couch looking at him, sitting quietly in the middle of the room on my wooden floor. I began talking out loud to Charlie. It seemed stupid at first, but the way he sat quietly and listened was comforting. After a while, I got more into it, and vented about my loneliness and frustrations to the point of tears.
How I stayed with my cheating, gaslighting ex-boyfriend because I was too insecure to be alone, until he dumped me. All my failed dates, and how I thought I would die alone and unloved. I poured my heart out to my new companion, spilling my deepest secrets until I cried myself to sleep. The next day, I again began talking to Charlie about the pain and depression I had been through, and he listened patiently once more. I discovered that spending time with my new friend was cathartic. Perhaps I needed to get it all out, and be listened to for once, even if not fully understood.
The third day after I had taken Charlie in, I woke up to realize that I'd overslept half an hour. I poured some food into Charlie's bowl and brushed my teeth at lightning speed, then grabbed my bag and flung the door open, ready to bolt into my car. A surprise greeted me at the front door, that made me stop.
There was a bouquet of red and pink roses on my front door step.
I picked it up and looked at it, confused. There was no note attached or anything. I couldn't think of who it would be from - I obviously hadn't been on any dates recently. Being late for work, I didn't have much time to ponder, so I dropped the roses back on my doorstep and drove off. During the drive, I panicked for a second at the thought that it could have been my ex, but then realized he didn't know my new address, or even that I had moved. The mystery bugged me all day at work. When I came back home, the roses were gone, so I assumed someone had accidentally left them at the wrong address.
That night, I woke to the sound of creaking. As I opened my eyes slightly, I saw something at the foot of my bed and bolted upright, adrenaline rushing through me. As the fogginess faded, my heart rate settled a little.
"It’s just you, Charlie," I sighed, "you scared me."
Charlie continued to stare at me from the foot of my bed. After a minute, he stood up and left the room. I didn't think much of it, and fell back asleep.
For the next week, I continued the usual ritual of talking to Charlie before I went to bed. I would talk about my day, my plans, hopes, dreams and other such things. I found our one way conversations getting more positive each day - they were very therapeutic. Charlie would always stare at me with those big brown eyes and sit quietly still as I talked.
On the morning of the vet appointment, for which I had taken the day off work, I noticed that my car was much cleaner than usual. Had it always been this shiny? I thought. I had driven it to work the Friday before, but I hadn't taken notice of how clean it was then. The last time I had, I could swear there were bird droppings on the back window, and some general grime that covered it all round, but it was now spotless. I pondered for a few seconds, and came to the conclusion that it must've just be a brain lapse on my part - it was probably always clean. Those droppings must have washed away over time with a few rainy nights.
I drove Charlie down to the vet and explained the story of how I'd found him.
"He's very well behaved," she beamed, as she began examining Charlie on the table. "We see a few of these cases from time to time. People's dogs have puppies, and they get sold or abandoned."
"It's a real shame," I sighed. "Charlie's been a star, I'm lucky to have him really. I live alone, so as odd as it sounds, I've been talking to him and it's helped me through some difficult moments."
"That's not strange at all," replied the vet, checking his teeth. "Owning a dog can do wonders for your mental health, especially if you live alo-"
She suddenly stopped.
I stared as she squinted and moved Charlie's head up and down, trying to get a look at something. She plucked a light out of her pocket and aimed it into Charlie's left eye.
"What's wrong?" I asked. She didn't answer, and kept looking at Charlie from different angles. He whimpered slightly.
"Did his eye look like this when you found him?" She asked. I leaned in closer.
"Yeah, I did notice his left eye was slightly darker and larger than his right."
She looked at me for a second and raised her eyebrows, then back at Charlie.
"I'd like to get a closer look at his eye and examine it in the next room, if that's okay?"
"Uh, sure," I said, confused.
Without further explanation, she hastily picked Charlie up and carried him off into a different room. I sat down and waited, reading the news on my phone, expecting her to be back in a few minutes. However, when the vet didn’t come back for a while, my concern began to grow. I paced around the room and tried to glance into the door she had left through a few times.
Then I sat back down and watched the minutes pass by, getting more anxious. Hopefully it's nothing, I thought to myself. An easily curable eye infection perhaps, or a defect he was born with - hopefully it was something like that or nothing. I'd only spent a few weeks with Charlie, but he was the best friend I'd ever had. I had told him so much about me, and he was the only one that had ever really listened to me. I had grown very attached to him quickly, so I almost felt like a worried parent, blaming myself for not bringing him to the vet sooner.
An hour and a half passed, but it felt like eternity. The vet finally came back through the door. I stood up.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Have you noticed any odd events recently?" she asked, "Like, anything you couldn't explain?"
"To do with Charlie?"
"No, just in general. Anything you've seen or heard around you that felt out of place in your life?" She insisted. I took a second to think.
"I'm pretty sure this isn't gonna be relevant," I said, "But I have a couple of times. For instance, this morning I thought my car was a lot cleaner than usual. I've been getting some unknown calls, and hearing some creaking noises at night lately, but I'm sure it's just Charlie walking around and waking me up. And… someone left roses on my front doorstep one day. Didn't say from who, but… Sorry, I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this."
I looked up at the vet, who now had a very concerned look on her face.
"I'm going to have to call the police," she said.
It took a few seconds to register. A million thoughts started racing through my mind. Did I say something wrong? Did she think I was abusing Charlie?
"I swear," I said, "Everything I've told you is true, I'm really sorry it took me so long to bring him in, it's my first time owning a dog and all…"
"No, no, it's not that," she said. She gestured for me to follow her into the room through the door.
Charlie was sitting on a table in the middle of the room. There were a few other tables surrounding it, with dog toys and surgical equipment on them. There was a large hole where his left eye had been, now a gaping black cavity.
The vet pointed at a sheet of blue paper on a table next to the one Charlie was on. There were two black domes resting on it, like two halves of a black ping pong ball had been split in half. A clear fluid was covering the outer sides, and staining the blue paper. There was also a tiny black cube. I looked closer, and saw some red and green wires coming out of the tube.
"I took this out of Charlie's left eye," the vet explained, "I thought my eyes were fooling me, but I took a closer look and was sure this thing definitely shouldn't have been in his head. When I took it out, I thought it was some kind of prosthetic eye, until I heard something moving inside it. I opened it up, and found this."
She pointed at the tiny cube and picked it up with some tweezers, revealing a transparent circular window on one side.
"Now I'm no expert, but I took that apart just now and to me it looked a lot like the inside of a camera lens you'd get on a smartphone."
She looked back at me.
"Do you think…" She paused.
"Do you think it's possible someone could have been watching you for the past few days?"
The police were eventually called and an investigation started. The tiny device inside Charlie's eye was indeed a camera lens with a built in audio recording device, and it had a wireless connection. It was an advanced piece of kit, but with some technical expertise they were able to examine its traffic logs and identify an IP address to which the miniature device was streaming.
That IP address belonged to my neighbor, who lived in the house opposite to mine.
I had never seen him leave the house before, although when I moved in I did see his silhouette in the top floor window a couple of times. He was a fifty five year old balding, slightly overweight man who worked as an engineer, but otherwise lived a reclusive lifestyle. I later found out that he had multiple restraining orders placed against him from ex partners. He had a collection of tiny bugging devices which he had been planting in various places including public women's bathrooms for years. These devices could livestream video and audio to his computer, and in his spare time he would watch and listen to this footage he collected.
A while before I moved into the house, he had purchased a puppy from someone he knew, and kept it as a pet without registering it. I assume he got bored of spying on women in bathroom stalls, and when he saw me move into the house opposite, he suddenly got a wild idea of how he could get a peek at something more intimate. The rest is some truly horrific history.
Charlie had been in my room while I slept and even a couple of times while I undressed. But worst of all, I had told him everything about me. The names of previous partners, things about my family, companies I had worked for and more. I wish I could say that I kept Charlie, but I just couldn't. Not after that. The vet arranged for him to be sent to the animal shelter where I'm glad to say he eventually did find a new home. I also relocated and changed my phone number.
For anyone out there wondering, I'm still single. The difference is that nowadays, I'm completely at peace with being alone. I've experienced a worse alternative, that's for sure.

If you’d told me that the visitation with my son, an event that happened only every other weekend, would be extended indefinitely, I would’ve jumped with joy. In the end, I wish the circumstances under which they unfolded had never happened.
The clouds were sightless in the clear sky the day Jasmine dropped off my boy, a perfect day to play a little catch in the yard or go fishing at the nearby stock pond. Cyrus bounced out of the car and ran joyously toward me, unaware that his old man was a perpetual fuck up that had broken up the family in the first place. Oh well.
It was a happy day, the birds sang their old nostalgic tunes of a lost Summer in my own childhood. It was warm, not too warm, and the neighborhood was buzzing with excitement as the Spring showers had come to a close. It was as close as it could get to perfect.
The evening light danced against the tree tops, turning a violet hue as dusk began to settle in. Burnt orange water reflected the dying sun as it continued sinking away to nothing. We grabbed our tackle box, the giant beige one my uncle gifted me before he was stolen by cancer, and filled it with the empty, crumpled up bits of plastic that once held bologna sandwiches. As I said, it was a perfect day, very reminiscent of my own childhood.
We’d thrown the fat bluegill back that we had caught, I hadn’t felt like messing with cleaning and cooking them. Instead, dinner would likely be mac n’ cheese with some cut up hot dogs, a staple in my household whether or not Cyrus was visiting. Hopefully I hadn’t run through Oscar Meyer supply.
Home never felt so lonely, the walls never seemed so barren of old family pictures when Cyrus wasn’t around. Sometimes, he only added to the pain. I would never tell him that, though.
Even with the faucet turned all the way up, the water dribbled out and made boiling pasta a very patient game. Cyrus was babbling about some game he was playing on my phone. ‘He’s just a kid’, I thought, and pretended to be interested in whatever the hell he was talking about.
The sun had vanished and the moon was especially bright that night, having slid nearly halfway to its crescendo before dinner was finally done. Cyrus had stolen my phone to the living room, staring at the bright characters absentmindedly as a nondescript Netflix show played in the background.
“Here, buddy, sorry about the wait”, I sat the bowl of neon yellow stuff in front of him, the pink scramble of hotdog jutting out made me feel… a little ashamed? I plopped down next to him and flipped through the various titles on Netflix, most of which I had already seen a couple of times. Cyrus tossed the phone aside and picked at the mess of ‘food’ in the bowl. I can’t remember if he took a bite or not.
“Dad!”, I jumped, reeling from the doze I had fallen in. If Jasmine was here, it would’ve been such a perfect day, such a perfect day. Instead, this is where it all fell apart.
He massaged furiously at his temples, his knees pulled tight against his heaving chest.
“What’s the matter, are you okay?”, I jumped from the couch and got on one knee, putting my hands around his shoulders. I watched helplessly as Cyrus twisted and contorted his body, trying to run away from whatever pain was in his head.
Suddenly he fell still.
I studied him for a while, nearly on the verge of tears as his body had become totally limp. Then, a noise. At first it was quiet, then it grew and grew until it filled the room with totality. It’s hard to describe that noise, almost like a wind turbine if you were up close to it.
From behind the couch, just above my sons head, it peeked at me. Its thick, black fingers ended at sharp, nailess points. Just as I met its eyes, it slithered behind the couch and that’s when Cyrus awoke in a screaming fit.
I jumped awake again, Cyrus sitting next to me as pale as a sheet. His eyes were bulging, glued to the blank TV ahead.
I couldn’t help but check behind the couch, to make sure it wasn’t still there. Then, to my son who was still staring at the nothing on the television. His mouth was hanging open, just enough to allow the continuous stream of drool to fall out.
I ran to the kitchen to grab a paper towel and cleaned the odd amount of drool from his chin. There wasn’t a thermometer in the house but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that he was burning up. A fever, I thought.
I carried the boy to his bedroom, feeling as though I was being watched the entire way, and tucked him into bed. A doctors visit would soon be on the horizon. I returned to the couch in the living room, careful to keep my gaze fixed on the TV and nothing else. Truthfully, I was too afraid to look in the shadowy corners.
That night was filled with nightmares.
The next day I rang Jasmine, letting her know that Cy was sick and needed to go to the doctor. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have been an issue, but Jas was immunocompromised (she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer a few months before we divorced) and my son would be staying with me for the foreseeable future. I couldn’t complain, I didn’t get to see him nearly enough as it was.
That day was very much the opposite of the previous, the sky was gloomy and spits of rain fell consistently from dawn to nightfall.
The doctor had said that Cyrus had a particularly severe ear infection, but nothing that some antibiotics couldn’t fix. He sent us home with a tube of the stuff, my wallet noticeably lighter.
“Apply some of this twice a day, once in the morning and once before bedtime”, the older gentleman had said. He squeezed my shoulder and smiled, though there seemed to be something else behind his wary eyes.
He stopped me again as I turned to leave.
“Sir…”, he started, though he seemed to study his words carefully, “your son kept mentioning something he called the flumes”.
I shrugged, the only time I had heard the word was in reference to a ravine on the edge of town where we’d all smoke pot in high school. Nothing struck me as odd about it at the time.
“They come from the flumes, those noises, those noises, he kept saying”, the doctor pushed closer, his eyes growing wild. I stepped backward, tugging at Cy’s hand as we left the building wordlessly.
Aside from my busy mind, the car ride home was utterly silent. I could hear my boys heavy, labored breaths all the way from the backseat. ‘Inner ear infection, my ass’, I thought.
After laying Cyrus back down for bed, I fixed him a bowl of instant chicken and noodles and decided to give Jasmine a call. The phone rang endlessly before the robotic voice indicated that the caller wasn’t available. I tried once more but gave up after it rang a few more times. Probably sleeping.
I returned to the couch, deciding to rewatch Nightmare on Elm Street for the fourth or fifth time.
After a while, I decided to put on cable, growing tired of the listless titles on Netflix. I was never too interested in the local news, but today seemed as good as any to catch up on the towns happenings. The Grantfield Gators girls softball team had advanced to sectionals and one of the townsfolk were celebrating their 100th birthday.
A ‘Breaking News’ graphic slid below the frazzled newslady on the television. Wherever she was, it sure looked familiar.
‘Wild dog shits on mayors front yard’, I laughed at my own stupid joke and surely turned as white as Cyrus had the previous night as the lady on the TV continued.
“A local woman was found tied to a tree and disemboweled at the scene. Police are saying various symbols were branded all over the womans body, and the material used to bind her to the Elm tree was ‘of unusual property’”, she continued on for a while but I hadn’t noticed, the air had fallen heavy and that familiar warbling had filled the room again.
Heavy footsteps slammed up the staircase at an otherworldly pace. Up the staircase and towards my sons room.
I ran, I swear I ran as fast as I could but I knew… I knew.
When I got to his room, he was gone, the curtains blowing aimlessly in the wind as the window had been slammed open so hard that the glass had shattered in the panes. The bowl of chicken and noodles sat on the bedside table, untouched.
I tried calling Jasmine again and again and again. Still, no answer.
I wanted to write this, to whoever may be reading, so that you know where to look if I don’t return. I know where my son is, I know where Jasmine is.
The flumes took them, or whatever might be lurking in it.

I (29F) and my husband (37M) have been married ten years this coming January. We have two kids 4 years and 9 months.
And he has never had a job. We live in a HCOL area where our hobbies are and my career in art used to thrive. The last two years I wanted to work less and be more present with my one kid at the time.
I’ve been asking him to get a job for years. I’ve let our bank accounts get low and nothing. He’s done some substitute teaching here and there and then did a course for UXUI that was supposed to take him 6 months he did it in 9 months.
He hasn’t had a job. He’s gotten some web design clients. But since the beginning of the year I’ve asked him to be in charge and responsible for some of the bills. He’s been late on rent every month this year. When I took full responsibility of everything I made sure our rent was never late.
We now have credit card debt and never more than $300 in our banks. It’s awful.
I’ve lost respect for him. Two years ago I asked for a separation cause I was so tired of this. I went back to him out of fear of paying him alimony and I wanted to stay together for our child.
Well it’s been two years, I foolishly had another child with him and I want a divorce. I’m so done. I just feel like I need to wait until we are visiting my family to present him with the divorce papers. To untangle our life will take so long. We’ve been in couples counseling for months and I’ve asked him over and over to take me on dates so we can reconnect… still nothing.
I’m scared. Both paths are hard. I could stay with him and there’s an ease of raising our kids together, but we will always struggle and I’ll never feel a sense of security.
Or I become a single mom, he’s gonna have to work regardless but this will force him to. I have no clue what my life would look like work-wise… but that seems like the happier path.
I want a partner I’m inspired to be around. He’s such a kind and humble man, but he’s not the happiest or positive person. He doesn’t love me the way I deserve and I’m just all around over it.
I have skills I can build on to support myself but it will definitely be a starting over if I have to move out of our HCOL space to be closer to family.
Custody is another thing. But I’m going to wait till July to tell him we are done.

Whenever I get a new obsession, or hyper fixation, I get this urge to “start over” by getting rid of stuff and buying new stuff. Does anyone else do this?
For example, Just this month I have contemplated..
• buying new cleaning products and replacing all my spray bottles with ecofriendly🌱 glass ones • throwing out all of my cups and replacing them with ✨aesthetically pleasing✨ ones • replacing my sheets and towels with newer ones, even though the ones we have are fine 🙄 • buying skincare products even though I haven’t used up the old ones (also wanting to match brands)
My husband gets so frustrated because I’m constantly buying things that we don’t need, but can’t explain this urge to him.😩 I will research things for days, make lists of things I want to buy, visualize what I want, and then obsess over the thought and temptation on buying it.

We’ve been working on a Boring Topper with the goal to enhance comfort for sleepers that might find their current mattress slightly too firm. By adding an additional 2” of high-quality comfort foam, you’ll be able to augment the current mattress feel to something more soft and plush.
What are the specs?
Height: 2”
Foam Type: Fast-recovery foam (marketed in the industry as “Energex”)
Density: 3.0
Firmness: 14 IFD
Certification: CertiPUR-US
Is the topper compatible with my mattress?
If you’re purchasing a topper to improve the comfort of a mattress that is old and sagging, we would instead suggest investing into replacing the entire mattress.
Old mattresses often have compromised layers, losing their ability to rebound fully to their original shape. Trying to fix it with a topper layer will not fix the root cause of the poor comfort.
What makes it a “prototype”?
The prototype does not include a cover, but with or without a cover the comfort will feel the same. You can place it on top of your current mattress, and put sheets or a protector over the combined topper + mattress.
While in development, we’ve been sharing our topper with various customers to gather feedback. It has been promising thus far, helping improve the sleep of customers who might have otherwise experienced the mattress as being too firm.
Is there a trial period for the topper?
The Topper comes with a 99-night sleep trial. The same offered with our Boring Mattress.
Where can I buy the topper?
In exchange for your feedback, we are offering the Topper prototype with special pricing on our website here: https://www.boring.co/products/topper
We expect to release the Boring Topper with a cover in the coming 1-2 months, as we iterate on customer feedback.

This has been on my bed sheet for about a month, can't see it on the mattress though. I tried washing it in the washing machine but it didn't really come off.

Kids have ruined our marriage. For more information, feel free to read below. This is partial venting, but also a serious question. I don't know what to do: When I say I'm at my wits end, I'm literally standing on the edge of the cliff. I often think of jumping lately
We have completely lost control of our household. The back talk is beyond unacceptable. If you heard what they get away with saying to their parents, your mouth would drop and you would also make an audiible gasp. I can't put up with it. If I ever talked to my parents in this manner, I wouldn't be alive today. I would imagine a ton of people that grew up in the 80s and 90s would agree with me.
(Removed my personal thoughts about spankings because that's not the main point of the post.)
Anyways, that's not why I need help. Back then, if you screwed up, you knew you would be put in line. Instead, society now wants us to sit them down and explain how their behavior has caused emotional concern and how much it hurt the parent's feelings. I can't play the everyone gets a trophy game anymore.
Here's the meat and potatoes. We have twin 11 yr old girls. I also have a 20 year old female from a prior learning experience. The older child tried me a couple of times when she was very little. One spanking over the diaper nipped that in the bud. Literally, only one. She wouldn't stop playing with knives in the dishwasher. Anyways, all I need to do now is just look at her and she gets the point. These twins, they don't give a crap. The blatant disrespect is mind blowing. I'll ask nicely, then tell nicely, and then no more nicely. I get very upset and turn into a drill sgt. (I grew up in a military type home and have a career where discipline is not a nicety, but a necessity). I know we can no longer give "spankings" the way we used to. I have tried many other ways to deal with discipline. I've read books, watched videos, and tried numbers things.
Surprisingly to me, the 1, 2, 3, method actually does work about 60% of the time. That took a lot of adjusting for me, but I was willing to try anything. They love TV or Nintendo time and don't want to lose those. But they will still talk back as if I were one of their friends on the school bus.
One of them has DMDD, so at least once a month, one of us has to physically wrestle and restrain her to prevent her from hurting herself or another member of the family. I've been trying to understand and learn how to deal with it. Some of the tools work and I've been able to step in and keep the meltdown from happening. But, any time she is told "no", regardless of what it is, there's a very good chance a meltdown will ensue. The most recent "no" was because she wanted to order something off of Amazon. That resulted in over an hour of physically wrestling her to pin her on the ground until it's over and she comes back to her senses.
The other 11 year old doesn't get violent. But lately, her blatant disregard for listening to her parents is ridiculous. Last night, the second twin utterly refused to listen and proceeded to talk back. I lost my mind and started yelling at her. It didn't matter. She just kept on talking shit to me and then started talking back to her mother as well. To her own parents!. I had to physically remove myself or I was going to lose my damn mind. I can't live in a house where the kids have taken over.
They run the house and both my wife and I walk on egg shells every day, which is not normal. Last night, after the kids went to bed, that's when we had our blowout. She thinks talking to them and trying to get them to understand how their actions impact others is the way to go. It's because that's what the therapists tells her. So, no longer am I just dealing with a dead bedroom situation, I now have to deal with this. Love and affection ended about 7 years ago. It's too much.
Divorce was never an option for me. Mainly for financial reasons. I have no place to go and after child support, I wouldn't even make enough to pay rent and bills. But, I can't take it anymore. I told her last night I want to sell the house and split it. That's really the only way I'll have enough money to leave. She doesn't want to disrupt all of our lives, especially the kids. What do I do? I live paycheck to paycheck. I can't just "go get a lawyer immediately". I couldn't even get a lawyer later on, let alone immediately.
I'm at my wits end. I've lost all love for life. I no longer love what I do. But, I'm too old to start over in a different career. I know some of you are saying you're never too old. Yes, I am. I would never be able to live off of a new job's starting salary. Plus, it would take several years to get to the point I'm at now. I've got no family, and any friends I did have all moved away for various reasons. My kids are very good at softball and play on multple teams together. But, it's not like I can just walk up to one of the other softball dads and let it rip about everything.
If you have made it this far, I just want to say thank you for taking time out of your day to do so. Also, I've tried everything related to trying to help us as a couple. I've tried everything I could find to try and make the relationship better (emotional and physical). Marriage counseling didn't work. I actually told my wife several weeks ago that I can't do this anymore. I even told her about some of the thoughts I've been having. She basically brushed me off and said "whatever". Basically she was daring me to jump off that cliff. I used to love being a parent. I'm just not cut ouf for it anymore. I can already see my kids doing a 180. One day, they will realize I left because of thier behavior.

Hey everyone,
I've been learning piano for a little over a month now, and I've been making pretty fast progress. So far, I can play pieces like Bach's Prelude in C, Hey Jude, Don't Stop Believin', and about half of the Goldberg Variations Aria. Currently, I'm learning the Charlie Brown theme song.
I've been using Synthesia tutorials to speed up my progress initially, as I wanted to focus on learning some songs without spending too much time on sheet music. But now, I want to dive deeper into jazz.
Here are a few questions I have:

1. Did jazz musicians traditionally use sheet music at all? Or did they rely more on improvisation/learning by ear or people just telling them the notes?
2. How can I get better at improvising and learn more jazz theory?
3. Does anyone know of any good resources, tips, or exercises to improve my jazz piano skills?
4. Can you suggest any jazz songs that are good for beginners to learn?

A bit more about me: I play in a band with my friends (not a jazz band), and I've been playing songs like Don't Stop Believin' and Hey Jude with them. I'm pretty good at keeping in tempo and playing with everyone. I've also been playing guitar for a few years, which has probably helped with my piano progress, but I don't know much theory.
For context, some of my favorite jazz pianists are Bill Evans, Red Garland, and Thelonious Monk. I really love their styles and would love to emulate some of their techniques.
Thanks in advance for your help!

Hope this makes sense, my grammar can be rough and my thoughts tend to be scattered so please ask for clarifications if needed
TL;DR Wife doesn’t want to work unless we moves states to be closer to her family. I might have considered the move were we in a good place, but the relationship was already rough. Any advice on trying to move forward or fix things? Or is it a lost cause?
Me (29F) and my wife (25F) have been together about 4 years, married for 1. There’s been a few ups and downs in our intimate life that caused us to open our relationship up to polyamory about 1.5 years ago. Overall we’ve always been best friends and becoming polyamorous gave a strong but temporary boost to our intimate life. I used to really admire her for her self-work and reflection she would do as part of her addiction recovery. She had goals and passion. She had friends. She could be there to support me, and Id be there to support her.
But after moving in about 2 years with me and out of her sober house it was like she slowly stopped all self-improvement. One day she quit her grocery store job announcing she was interviewing for a job in a recovery center. Of course she didn’t get that one and she was out of work for about 6 months before finally starting to apply again and securing an overnight recovery center job. And I was patient the whole time, not making her pick up extra slack around the house, not nagging her about applying to jobs, none of that.
Well with the new overnight job she started treating me like a human alarm clock because her shift was 12pm-8am. She would change the time she wanted to wake up between 9pm and 11pm. Some days she would tell me 10pm and “snooze” me repeatedly until 11pm. And if I happened to fall asleep because I wake up around 5-6am she would be late and blame me. Eventually she got fired from that job for calling out and being late so often.
After a couple months of being off she wasn’t looking for any new jobs and wasn’t doing any cleaning of any sort around the house. Even if I was asking her nicely to do specific tasks. So when I tried to have a conversation with her about when she’s going to find a new job, and if she can start doing the things I ask her to around the house, she replied with “I’m not going to be applying to any jobs. I’ll only get a job again if we move to Maine(where her family lives). And if you want me to do things around the house you have to tell me, not ask.” I was kind of in awe because this wasn’t the type of answer I expected from her.
Most recently she’s taken to playing Fallout at all hours of the night, and sleeping during the day. She literally goes to bed when I’m coming out to the living room with my breakfast before work (She had readjusted from the night shift schedule before this). So I’m sleeping alone at night, we have no physical intimacy, like we might give each other a small kiss 2-3 times a week, we don’t hug, and even if she did get into bed with me I can’t touch her even just to rest my forehead lightly on a part of her or just rub her back. She’ll do 1 chore a day, but never to 100% completion. And that only started because I threatened to take the Xbox to work with me.
Because we’re poly I’ve floated the idea of de-escalating our relationship in the past where we have our own separate rooms and can be free to find new live-in partners but she’s immediately shot the idea down each time.
I feel like I’ve got a pet roommate. Should I end things and tell her to move back to Maine in with her mom on her own? Or is there any real chance at fixing my marriage at this point? Does anyone think marriage counseling would work? I’m not sure I could even get her to schedule that for us and I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one putting in effort. Idk where to go from here.

The patient presented with what appeared to be normal H but insisted she had a severe HL... OK, fine. Got her into the booth, hooked her up, and presented at 40 DB. Red... dropped to 30 Red, dropped to 20 Red, dropped to 5 red... at that point, decided just to do the main 4 and turn it into a screening. Got the patient out and said, "You're great! No issues, congrats!" She then said, "Oh no, no, I thought you said to push when I didn't hear anything??"
I said, "What? No, you did it correctly. You pushed it at every tone. You're fine. "
She then continues, "No! I didn't hear anything, I swear. Can you retest me?"
At this point, I'm just thinking ... OK crazy..
Get her back in, present at 40. Nothing. Move to 50 nothing, 60, 70 (at this point she's also contorting her face) Responding, then not responding when I validate and she's all over the place. Yes, no, yes, no
Classic malingering.
At 3K, I stop the test and tell her she's done. She's getting out of the booth, and I begin to counsel her on what appears to be going on. I ask, "What's the deal here? You clearly would not benefit from any treatment, so tell me why you insist on needing a hearing loss?"
Finally, after about 6 rounds, she admits (long story short) that her grandmother raised her, she's going to college in a few months, and grandma can not hear. She's worried about this, and because she is on state insurance but grandma only has Medicare. She was hoping to give her these. I counseled her on individual loss, why her RX would not fit Grandma's, and law and ethics.
She was devastated. I invited her back WITH Grandma, and I plan on gifting her the new top of line series. But never have I seen something like this. If anything, it's the opposite. Spoilt adult children whining that their small should be there inheritance is being wasted on preserving cognitive abilities in Mom or Dad.