Messaging on behalf of a friend needing assistance with establishing child support in Florida:
BACKGROUND: She has a 7 year old with the baby daddy who has been out of the picture for over 4 years now. When he left, they were living together in an apartment when he trashed the place (holes in walls, broken doors, etc) and walked out leaving a ~$3K charge to her credit report. She has been working as a server and also knocking out a nursing degree, graduating with her bachelors degree this summer. It’s been very tough financially and she is now facing an eviction because the apartment raised rent by $350 with only a 2 week notice so the additional child support income would make an immense difference if we succeed.
INFO: She opened up a case with the Florida Department of Revenue (DOR) child support program (CSP) in June of 2023 and they gave feedback that they could not find him. Earlier this year, she was able to find his legitimate address and place of work to submit in her case. Despite all of this, she recently received a letter in the mail from the Florida DOR CSP stating:
‘On 06/07/2023, we started this proceeding by issuing a Notice of Proceeding to Establish Administrative Support Order. We have decided to end this proceeding because We have been unable to find the other parent to serve the first notice.
This proceeding is terminated without prejudice. If circumstances change, a judicial or administrative proceeding may be started at a later date.’
ASK: Has anyone else had this type of trouble? It feels like we basically did DOR CSP’s job by finding the baby daddy’s address and place of work but they still came back with the letter saying they couldn’t find him. What are our options to get them to put him in a ‘found’ state in their system so that everything else can move forward in the process?

Tell me why I'm wrong 😆

1. Their 18A process is best in class
2. Their x86 chips will be way more efficient on 18A
3. The ARM chips on 18A will be more efficient than competitors
4. Their GPUs are only a generation or two behind Nvidia.
5. Their AI platform (gaudi) is already more efficient that Nvidia and is only a generation or two behind in terms of raw horsepower.

If we think about compute in general let's say 33% cloud, 33% HPC/AI, 33% edge.
Right now Intel is a major player in all 3 markets.
Xeon isn't going anywhere and once 18A process starts moving volumes it will be such a huge jump in performance that all these cloud vendors that have been extending lifecycles will finally have a reason to upgrade.
Gaudi will become more competitive over time as companies start to realize that nuclear power stations for data centers are not really a good idea. The power density required for nvidias chips just isn't sustainable.
ARM is a big threat to Intels x86 market but it's also a big opportunity for Intel foundry. The efficiency of ARM chip design is largely the same given they're using the same core architectures. Where Apple really has been excelling is using the latest process technologies to build more efficient edge compute. Intel with their state of the art 18A coming online around the world will soon having companies lined up for ARM production that will handily outperform TSMCs latest offering.
Intel GPUs are getting more and more competitive with Nvidia every generation. In terms of gaming I see them becoming a more and more of a thorn in nvidias side, but that's just GPUs...
I just don't see why nvda can be possibly worth 20x Intel when Intel has so many more growth opportunities. If all goes well in the world then Intel will continue to play a major role in the global compute market. If all goes to hell in the world then Intel will be the single most critical company in the world as global chip supply becomes completely disrupted in Taiwan and Intel's new factories become the only way to keep our world moving forward.
Already Biden is escalating the trade war with China. Imagine if it gets to the point where the US decides to permanently dismantle TSMC's entire manufacturing capacity then imagine what that will do to global chip supply. All it would take is one wrong move by China to seize control over the strait and USA will undoubtedly destroy the manufacturing before letting it fall under Chinese control.

I think it was Jack's idea. Or maybe it was Mindy who came up with it. You know, if I do try and really think about it .. well, maybe it could've actually even been me who decided we play it. I've spent hours trying to pierce my memory back together, more to pass the time and distract myself.. But it's all irrelevant, It doesn't matter now. Maybe it never did.
Mabel was turning 30 and it was up to us to plan the party. We were all nostalgic about childhood memories so we decided to go all out - Frogs in the pond (jelly cups with Freddo frogs), hot dogs and fairy bread, and we wrapped up prizes in newspaper for pass the parcel. Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister were set up ready to play, the spice girls were blaring on Spotify.
Mabel's eyes lit up when she walked into the room and her smile was worth all the effort we put in. We danced and played games, and as the sun started to set and it grew darker outside, someone suggested turning off the lights snd playing murder in the dark.
There were ohh's and ahh's, laughter as people remembered a game they most likely hadn't played since primary school. A collective chatter amongst us in agreeance to playing Someone handed out cards, while were told the rules of the game. And then the lights were tuned out.
For those of you who don't recall, these are the basic premise of the games rules -
You'll need - Pack of cards
Instructions - Sort through a deck of cards and find the following - an Ace, a Jack, a King, a Queen, and number cards for the amount of remaining people. (i.e.-if six people were playing, you would need two number cards.)
Each card means something - the Ace is the murderer, the Jack is the detective, the King is the detective if the Jack dies, and the Queen is the detective if the Jack and the King both die. The number cards just walk around for the beginning of the game.
Tell the players that all they need to worry about for the time being is if they get the Ace. Give a card to everyone. Nobody looks at each other's cards. Once they have their cards and have seen them, put them down somewhere out of the way for the next round.
Turn off all the lights so that it's completely dark. Everyone begins to spread out and walk about slowly, and try not to laugh or talk. Players aren't allowed to stick together in this game. During this time, the murderer is seeking 'victims'. When she/he finds someone alone, they quietly brush their shoulder and whisper, "You're dead." As an alternative, the murderer could clamp their hand over the persons mouth to avoid the person screaming, and then whisper "You're Dead".
The dead player drops to the ground, dead, and can not speak or move. The murderer may or may not hide the person they just killed in a hiding place. It is not advisable, however, due to the risk involved in getting caught. When a player sees a person lying down, they ask, "Are you dead?" The person simply nods 'yes' or shakes their head 'no', but they must tell the truth. If they nod, the person who found them shouts "Murder in the Dark!" and the lights are put on.
The murderer may not murder victims any longer and all the alive players assemble where the dead person was found. The players who are not present are noted as dead. The detective sits in a chair in front of all the others who are on the floor. He/she asks questions to each person. (i.e. where were you when someone yelled Murder in the Dark? Who do you think is the murderer and why? etc.)
When the detective has enough information and think they are ready, they say "Final Accusation" and ask one person-"Are you the murderer?" It is very important that the person answers TRUTHFULLY at the final accusation. If they are the murderer, then they must say yes. If correct players pick new cards and the game starts again. If wrong then turn out the lights and carry on.
Our rules were a bit different though. It was added in that it would be a last man standing game instead. We wouldn't have a detective - we would have a murderer, murderees and possibly one lone survivor. If someone did survive -Whoever who was still alive when the egg timer went off in 60 minutes - would be the winner. If the murderer had successfully killed everyone and there were no 'survivors' - than they had won the game.
I'll admit, it was spooky. There's just something unnerving about being in a room full of people that you cannot see but you can feel their body heat or hear them breathing. I began to walk around softly, careful to make as less noise as possible. As I wasn't the killer - I had no 'good card' I was just a waiting victim, so I wanted to hide and try and bide my time staying alive as long as possible. It didn't take long to find the first 'body'. I could tell it was Mabel from the way the long blonde hair trailed along the carpet. I whispered "Are you dead?" And I guess she mustn't have heard me because I didn't see her nod.
I moved on quickly, going into the spare bedroom. I didn't risk shutting the door behind me, I just went to hide under the bed. There was a body already under there though, I felt the warmness of human skin as I clambered under the mattress, my hand recoiling in shock as I brushed up against someone's leg. I didn't bother to ask whether they were dead, I mean I guess it was cheating a bit, but we were alone, and they were certainly doing a good enough job of playing dead it seemed just silly to ask.
I heard the muffled scream down towards the other end of the house, - the first 'victim' I'd heard to make any noise - and knew it was safe to make my move out of the bedroom to a better spot.
I nearly tripped on the bodies that were splayed out on the floor, in the hallway and the kitchen. Whoever had the murderer card was certainly taking the game seriously and playing to the best of their ability. I had yet to come across anyone else walking around and was starting to think I might actually have a chance of winning, depending on how much longer was on the egg timer, of course.
I made a beeline to the kitchen to check how much time we had, it honestly felt like the game had gone on forever - and I was shocked to feel the broken pieces of the egg timer on the kitchen bench. I looked at the clock on the microwave - the green numbers burning into my eyes. We had been playing for over three hours.
Something didn't feel quite right.
I tiptoed back into the hall to Mabel, leaning down to whisper to her that we'd been playing way too long - but then I felt something wet and slippery on my hands when I knelt down next to her. It was blood. I stifled a scream as my hands roamed and I realised the birthday girl had had her head caved in.
I backed away slowly, tears streaming down my face as I quietly made my way to the front door. I let myself out and ran across the road, banging on the neighbours door while constantly glancing behind me to see if I was being chased.
The neighbours nearly fainted when they saw me covered in blood and screaming, but they calmed me down by showing me they had double locked their door and called the police.
They don't know who killed all my friends. Everyone who was meant to be at the party was still in the house - slaughtered.
It's taken so much therapy and I'm still not sleeping at night. I wish I could go back and help my friends. I didn't know, but the blame remains.
I got a letter in the mail today though. It was a congratulations card, and written inside said 'last one standing - winner winner - care to rematch, Afterall the last game was so fun! I'll see you soon, when darkness comes.'
So my advice, don't play childhood games. They could have dire consequences.

Air, shelter, water, and food, all essentials of life we take for granted. The gratitude of being alive,
smothered by emotional baggage. Just a bunch of pill induced zombies, riddled by life’s perplexities. Not
me, not any more at least. No, now I wake up every day reborn with a newly discovered purpose in life,
thanks to, him.
Most would be emotionally devastated and seek long term therapy, after what I had endured.
Most would need to be heavily medicated, to calm their anxiety of the fear he would return. No, not me,
the person I once was, is now dead. Suffocated, frozen, dehydrated, and starved out of me. Who I was
perished, and I am grateful. I am offering you the same, but before we get started, let me explain how I
arrived at this place of serenity.
The night was the same as always. I had just finished gorging myself on junk food while binge
watching a reality show. Empty bottles of soda surrounded me as I surfed the streaming networks.
Knowing my weight was getting out of control, I still managed to finish off the bag of greasy potato
chips. My bottles of meds sat on the end table waiting for me. Depression, anxiety, stomach, and heart
pills all courtesy of the negligence of my life choices. One by one I swallowed the antidotes of a better
me. Yet, there never seemed to be a stronger version of myself, no matter how many pills I ingested.
Falling asleep, I told myself tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow I will try harder. As I drifted
off to sleep, I felt a sting in my neck, only waking up for a few seconds. My eyes opened just enough to
see him standing over me. Fighting to stay awake, my eyes latched closed, and I fell into the darkness.
Upon awaking, I could hear sounds of mumbles surrounding me. Feeling heavy and disoriented, I
managed to flicker my eyelids. As the minutes passed, my surroundings became more lucid. The foul
stench of pig shit singed my nose hairs. Dust from old haybales stimulated my sense of smell, inducing a
sneeze. An unimaginable pain coursed through my mouth. Still dazed and confused, I heard a voice say,
"we can't have that, now, can we?". Once again, I felt a sting in my neck, causing me to drift out of
reality.
"Wake up", I heard as I came to, "we need to get started". Started with what, I tried to ask. Yet,
my mouth wouldn't open. Tranquilized still, I thought maybe my brain just wasn't cooperating with my
body. Flexing my jaw, I tried again to speak, it was useless. All I could do was mumble. My words were
nothing more than muffled grunts behind a padded wall.
Looking around, I could see I was not alone. Vision blurry, I still managed to make out a large
silhouette of a man sitting in front of me holding a cutting needle and thread. He then placed the needle
on a barrel and stood up. Whistling, "The Sun will come out tomorrow", I began to look around. There were other people with us. Including myself, all tied to chairs and mouths sewn shut. Three of us were men. The fourth was a woman in her
mid-forties. She was crying and moaning uncontrollably. Mucus ran down her face dripping from her
chin. Trying to console her, I batted my eyes. It was all I could do without having the use of my mouth
and arms.
The injection he had no doughtily given me, had worn off. Like the woman, I found myself in panic
mode. My heart raced fast. I thought I would have a heart attack. Wanting to scream, I
couldn't. Wanting to run but I was incapacitated. Fighting my way out, entered my mind, but how? How,
with my hands bound behind my back. Besides, I wasn't a fighter, and the man was massive. He would
be very intimidating under any circumstance. His raggedy hair was sandy blonde with a mixture of gray.
Deep wrinkles hid behind a handlebar mustache, which stretched across his face. Thick eyebrows sat
untamed above his devilish eyes. Watching him, I tried not to make eye contact. I looked everywhere,
other than at him. The other two men looked as frightened as me. One man, the bigger one, had tears
but made no sounds. The other man was a very frail older man. He shifted side to side as he tried yelling
from behind his fastened lips. His arms bared scars of that of a junkie. His body, covered in scabs.
Cautiously, I looked around. A rusty old plow sat in the corner next to some feed sacks. A saddle
lay across an old broken table. Two horses stood quietly behind their stall door. I could see rays of light
shine through the cracks between the boards. It was daylight, knowing that gave me comfort somehow.
The barn was dusty, and as painful as it would be, I hoped I would sneeze again. At least then I could
scream. Abruptly the man stopped whistling and spoke.
Your mouths are bound together so that I cannot hear you. People talk too much, making the
world noisy. All loud with pathetic excuses of their weaknesses. I am not going to kill you. Your life is in
your own hands. Up to this point, you have wasted your life hiding behind your addictions. Cowering
and leaning on crutches of life’s temptations. I am here to save you from yourselves.
The rule of three is simple. You can survive three minutes without air, three hours without
shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. If you truly desire to live, then you will
triumph. If not, you will perish. I am here to help you unpack your emotional baggage. Air, the very
breath you breathe, you have taken for granted. So, please slow your breathing and relax. We are about
to begin.
While you were sleeping, I provided you with adequate fluids and nutrition. I cannot have you
starting off, on an empty tank. I want to be as fair as possible and make this a pleasant experience.
Though, I warn you it will not be easy, and you will have to dig deep within yourselves.
The burly man began whistling once again. He placed an egg timer on a barrel, grabbed a plastic
bag and spoke. You can survive three minutes with no air. Do you have the desire and strength to want
to live? For you, I truly hope so.
Standing behind the heavier man he turned the timer and then placed the plastic bag over his
head. The man jerked in his chair, thrashing about. One minute, he said. The man still moving wildly.
Two minutes, almost there just hold on. Three minutes he announced, ripping the bag from the head of
the now motionless man. “Oh dear, I guess he did not have what it takes, next”. My heart raced even
faster as he stood next to the now inconsolable woman. I would be after her. I had to slow my breathing
if I were to live. Picking up another bag, he stood behind her.
The air went in and out her nose as she hyperventilated. “There, there, I’m not going to hurt you”,
he said, as he patted her on the shoulders. “Three minutes is a miniature amount of time. I wish you the
very best.” Her legs kicked out lunging back and forth. Her muffled shrieks filled the barn. “Are you
ready?” He then reset the timer. Fearing for my own life, I turned my head and concentrated on my
breathing. Trying hard to block her out, I went to another place in my head. As hard as it was, I imagined
I was calm and at peace lying on a sandy shore. Desperately, I wanted to cover my ears. Her loud cries
soon became small whimpers. Then to gurgles as she choked on her own vomit. Turning my head back
towards her, I could see her convulsing as life left her body. “Not quite a minute, what a shame”, he
said.
Thinking back to when I was a child, and held my breath under water, outlasting my brother.
Back then, holding my breath was easy for me and I always won. Being in my mid-thirties, I wasn’t a
child any longer. Could I beat this, I questioned. Unlike the woman next to me, who reeked of tobacco, I
didn’t smoke. My chances were greater than those who came before me.
Excepting the inevitable, I practiced my anxiety exercises my therapist had taught me. Four, four,
four, inhale hold, exhale hold. If I panic, I will surely suffocate, I told myself. The other man was calmer
now and followed my lead. Our eyes locked on to one another as we breathed. “Very good, that is what
I want to see, a thirst for life, the will to live.”
Picking up a bag, he then stood behind me. I took a deep breath as he turned the timer. I felt the
panic trying to set in, but I pushed it deep down. Oddly enough, the tune he’d been whistling popped
into my head. “The sun will come out tomorrow”, played as the bag was put over my head. “So, you got
to hang on ‘til tomorrow.” Not wanting to see the blurred images through the bag, I closed my eyes. I
just kept humming the tune in my head. “One minute”, he said. Getting more difficult to hold my breath,
I could feel my heart beating faster and my blood pressure rising. The tune still reeling in my head,
“tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow”. “Two minutes”. I can do this, I’m almost there, but my
mind was getting foggy, and my chest tightened. My muscles tensed up as I felt my existence dwindle
away. The tune that kept me going had faded away somewhere deep into my brain. Hungry for air, I
started scratching my hands behind my back. I was going to die. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I managed to
think one last time. “Three Minutes”!
Air rushed through my nose, as I clung to the remaining life I had. It was the greatest feeling just
being able to breathe. I’d made it, I had beat him, I was alive. “Congratulations, you did well”. “Breath
and continue to appreciate the gift, I have given you”.
Tears rushed down my cheeks, as I sat watching the man set the stage for the last occupant. As
sympathetic as I was, I was overwhelmed too just be alive. Still fighting my anxiety, I closed my eyes,
four, four, four. Sounds of distress and faint scuffling could be heard, yet I refused to open my eyes.
Three minutes passed quickly. “We have another fighter, outstanding.” Opening my eyes, I seen that the
other man had also survived. “Two out of three, I wished it faired better.” “It is a pity they perished, yet
the pigs will eat well.” “Nothing should ever go to waste”. “Their carcasses are a valuable resource.” I
am thankful for their contribution.”
“I will let you rest up.” The next gift, is that of shelter.” “People of the world scratch and claw to
have bigger dwellings of that of their neighbor.” Never being thankful of the shelters warmth when it is
cold.” “Not a second thought about the materials taken from the earth to provide that comfort.” “I will
teach you to not care about the size or the looks. You won’t care if it’s a barn or a house made of sticks.
You’ll learn to be content as it shelters you from the storm.
Not understanding what was coming next, I tried thinking of ways to escape. Wringing my hands
together, I tried loosening the rope. He had his back turned removing the bodies from the chairs. Yet
somehow he still managed to catch on to what I was doing. “That’s a double sheet bend knot.” Try as
you might, you will not loosen or untie it.” “Yet I commend you on your perseverance.” “If you escape,
you will not learn the valuable lesson I am trying to teach you.” “Sit and be patient, like I told you
before, I’m not going to kill you.”
He was right. The more I tried twisting my wrists, the tighter the rope became making them bleed
and burn. “Why was he doing this and why me”, I wanted to ask. The inside of my mouth was so dry,
and I was thirsty. All I could think about was water to wash out the metallic taste left from the wounds
of my lips. Making eye contact with the other man, I wondered if he was as thirsty as I. “The storm will
be here soon, and we can continue.”, he said as he removed a hacksaw hanging from the barn wall.
We watched as the man carried on as if he’d done this before. He laid the saw across a table.
Sweat dripped from my head as I panicked. What was he going to do to us? I thought. Do not worry, this
saw is not for you, he said as he placed the woman’s body on the table. He then began to dismember
her legs. He continued to hack through the bodies throughout the day. He would casually take breaks
between the removal of the body parts. After he was done, he used a rusty old wheel barrel to take the
parts out of the barn. He kept his word. I could hear the pigs happily squealing as he fed them.
The light that had previously comforted me dwindled away as darkness approached. As frightened
as I felt, all I could think about was water. “It is time”, he said as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I will
untie your arms so you can move freely. I encourage you to move as much as possible to keep the blood
circulating. Frostbite and hypothermia are inevitable if you let yourself settle. You can wear the clothes
you have on, but nothing more.
The barn was heated with an old wood stove. Our captor had fed it wood throughout the day. Yet
the wind from the storm outside seeped through the cracks. A chill came over me, fearing what was
next. The four technique no longer working. He then placed a makeshift collar around our necks.
Connected to the collar was a chain. After untying the ropes from behind our backs he told us to stand.
Fearing what he would do, I did what he told me.
He then unlatched the wooden brace holding the barn doors shut, unveiling winter’s wrath.
Weather in Michigan was unpredictable and harsh at times. That night was no different. The wind
bustled through the doors as we all stood staring into the night. Snow was falling rapidly and had quickly
begun accumulating. “Tonight’s storm is only a mild one but will last a few hours.” “Having your mouths
bound is a positive.” “It will protect your lungs.” Your heart rate will lower the less you move so keep
moving to boost your circulation.” “You will have to endure three hours in the weather.” “This trial is
brutal, I know but if your life is precious then you will improvise, adapt, and overcome.
He then led us by the chains out of the barn and into a wooden pen. It didn’t have a roof but was
too tall to climb over. “I know you must be thirsty, but if you try and eat the snow you will only amplify
dehydration and hypothermia.” He then removed the collars and locked the door. As he walked away in
his rabbit fur coat, he turned and once again said, “Do you have the desire to live, for you I truly hope
so.”
Frantically I surveyed the pen looking for a way out. The enclosure was made of old pallets, thin
boards, and cattle fence. It was sturdy enough to keep us in but not the wind out. It must have been
about twelve feet wide by twenty-four feet long. Rubbing my hands along the gaps, I felt something
warm run down my fingers. I had sliced my hand along the inside of one of the pallets. He had secured
razor blades and sharp nails from the inside to keep us from climbing out. Even if we were able to make
it to the top, we wouldn’t be able to climb over the razor wire that spiraled along the perimeter.
More frantic than I, the other man ran back and forth. He was shaking and sweating profusely. How
could he be sweating in this weather, I thought. On the other hand, I had begun to shiver. My feet had
already begun to tingle. Wearing only gym shorts, socks, and a t-shirt, I knew I must keep moving. The
other man was more fortunate than I. He was wearing pajama bottoms, socks and a hoodie. At least he
had a layer to break the wind.
The snow was dry and easy to move. Thinking maybe we could get out from the bottom. I began
moving the snow with my hands. As I moved it, I motioned for the other man to help. My attempts to
get his attention went unnoticed. He had found a nail long enough to cut through the stiches in his
mouth. Watching him, I debated on doing it myself. Though I thought of the burly man and his hacksaw.
Deciding it was best to keep my lips bound, I watched him saw through his. He yelled in agony as blood
dripped from his lips. Be quiet, I wanted to tell him, he’ll hear you.
When the last stitch broke the man dropped to his knees gasping and crying. He then stood up,
removed himself from his pants, and began urinating in the snow. “I’m Evan”, he said shivering and still
covering the white snow yellow. His urine smelled foul as the wind carried the smell. Not being able to
talk, I used a stick to spell out my name. Letter by letter, I spelled it out, Liam. He didn’t acknowledge
what I had written. He didn’t seem to care about what my name was.
Bending over he began to eat the yellow snow. Then pulling up his sleeves, he did something that
made my stomach churn. He picked off the scabs from his arms and started sucking on them. I now
understood he was detoxing and was trying to get a fix from the meth that had exited his body. I had a
cousin in jail once, who had described this same behavior from the inside. After doing this for a few
minutes he then spoke. Stuttering out his words, “I know it’s disgusting, but it is what it is.” “Now how
we gonna get out of this here, Liam. No matter what he was or what he spoke, it was comforting to hear
him speak to me.
Not knowing how to get out I just started moving. Shaking my head and still shivering, I began to
do jumping jacks. There wasn’t a way out and I was so cold. Knowing that I had to keep moving I
continued. I knew that if I didn’t move, my heart would slow and eventually stop. “You gonna listen to
that Behemoth or ya gonna try and help me find a way out?” Stopping, I once again tried looking from
the bottom. He looked for a way to climb over. Neither of us found a way to escape. Both of us,
shivering we stopped looking.
As we huddled together in the corner, a voice came from a speaker. “One hour has passed, two
hours remain.” Your lust for drugs trumps your lust to live.” “It will be your demise.” He’d seen, he’s
watching us, I thought. Not wanting to die, I began running in circles. The pain was excruciating. Every
step I took was like stepping on needles. My nose felt like it would break off.
“It’s no use, we’re gonna die, Evan said as he plopped on the ground. Using my arms, I motioned
for him to get up, but he refused. He sat in the corner with his teeth chattering and shoulders shaking.
While Evan sat, I continued. Running from one end to the other, tears freezing as they plummeted from
my eyes. As I ran, I tripped over something that caught my attention. It was a stack of a few boards
hidden under the snow. Uncovering them I counted them out in my head. There were several I dug out. I
crafted a fort in my head. We could use the wood for a shelter. Once again, I motioned for Evan to help.
Evan didn’t speak or move. “Two hours”, I heard as a voice projected from a hidden box.
Quickly I stumbled to Evan, shaking him. Tears ran down my cheeks as I faced the truth. I was
alone. Evan’s inability to try had snuffed out his life. He was dead. Time seemed to stand still in that
moment. Looking at his lifeless body, I realized he wasn’t a frail old man. He in fact was my age. The
drugs just made him look old. My sadness for him abandoned me to be replaced with anger. He should
have tried harder. I was now alone. He had left me alone.
Feeling numb and secluded, I wanted to give up. There wasn’t much fight left in me, yet
something in me snapped. I didn’t want to die. Ripping my wet clothes off, I threw them to the ground.
Trying to keep my temperature above freezing, I jumped and staggered in the snow. Laying Evan’s body
flat on the ground, I thought I would use it as a warm layer between me and the ground. One board at a
time, leaned them over Evan’s body and up against the pen, making an ominous clubhouse. Shivering
and naked, I crawled inside and laid on Evan’s lifeless body.
No longer having the strength to move, I lay crying. In the last hour I replayed my life. If only I had
another chance to do it all over again. If only I thought as my eyes closed. The door then opened, “Three
hours”. “Stand up.”, he said as he wrapped a fur coat around my frigid body. ”Come on, you have passed
but you are not out of the woods yet.” Replacing the collar around my neck he then led me back into the
barn.
“I have prepared a warm bath for you.” He then helped me lift my legs over a galvanized water
trough. “There, there”, he said, “Just sit and let the bath warm your blood. The pain of prickly needles
washed over my body as the numbness dwindled. Fading in and out, I watched him carefully remove a
stockpot from the stove. He poured the water from the pot over my head. “Just relax, you should be
proud of yourself.” “You have outlasted all who came before you.” “You’re a fighter and you value your
life. I watched as he warmed pot after pot, continuously pouring them over me.
“I will have to give you warm fluids intravenously.” “Try to stand”, he said as he lifted me up and
out of the trough. He then dried my body with a towel. After he dressed me in dry clothing, he led me to
a makeshift bedroom converted from a stall.
As he assisted me into the bed, I noticed a tray with medical instruments on it. What were they
for I wondered, but to tired to care anymore. He then placed the I.V. needle in my arm and covered me
up. “Rest up and sleep while I deal with the frostbite.” Before I was able to think about what he had just
said, I went out.
Waking up, I was no longer cold. The shivering and pain from the night before gone yet replaced
with new discomfort. My hands, feet, face, and head all pulsing. Slowly, I removed the blanket with my
bandaged hands to see my feet. Both were wrapped in bandages. Looking over my entire body, I
reached for my face. It was also bandaged. I could feel that my ears and nose were missing. “I know this
must be shocking to you, but it had to be.” “You had deep frostbite in your fingers, toes, ears and nose.
They had to be amputated. “I have sealed off the wounds and have given you antibiotics to fight off
infection.” “Be grateful your alive.”
“You are very ambitious, and I want to reward you for your success. “If you can continue to
cooperate, I will remove the stitches from your lips. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to.” “Can you give me
word that you can stay quiet?” I nodded in agreement.
As promised, he removed the sutures from my lips. Handing me a tin cup of water, he told me to
drink. Words can’t express how refreshing the first sip was. Not being able to control myself, I gulped
down the entire cup. Handing the cup back to him I managed to mumble, “more?” Violently, he struck
me in the face and stood up. “More, more more”, he yelled as he paced the floor. “Always wanting
more!” “You should have savored every last drop rather than gulping it down like a pig at a trough.”
“You have reached your third trial.” “Water is the source of all life and you will learn to appreciate it. Do
you have the desire to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.”
Locking the door behind him, he left the room. Feeling relief from his absence, I took a deep
breath. Concentrating on the air that went in and out my lungs, I was thankful to be alive. It had been a
couple of days since I was able to breathe through my mouth. I felt happiness and gratitude to just be
able to breathe. The blanket and bed kept me warm from the cold that seeped through the barn walls.
Feling relieved, I felt safe for that minute. I pulled the blanket up under my chin and just lived in the
moment. Looking for ways to escape no longer crossed my mind. Still fearful of the man, yet I felt a
strange feeling of gratitude toward him.
Mixed emotions danced around inside of me as I lay. Thinking of the others that were with me, I
pitied them. Had they truly wanted to survive, they would be alive. Had they fought harder, they would
have won against his trials. My sympathy for them abandoned my thoughts, replaced with
disappointment. Questioning my mental state, I laid wondering if I’d gone mad. How could I sympathize
with a man who had essentially tortured me. How could I be thankful to a killer, I wondered. As
comfortable as I was, I was thirsty. Three days was a long time to go without water. Knowing this, I
closed my eyes to try to sleep through it.
A familiar tune whistled through the cracks of the wall. My eyes blurry from crust, I wiped it away
with my bandaged hand. Curious, I tried peeking through a hole in a board. Seeing the two horses in the
next stall brought back anxiety from the first trial. Sounds of mumbling could be heard. Listening
intensely, I realized he had more victims. Wanting to scream out to them to calm their breathing, I said
nothing. Fearful he would kill me if I spoke. Though I didn’t have to. He was telling them to be calm and
they would live. If only they would listen, they could live. One after another perished throughout the
ordeal. Once again mixed emotions of sympathy and anger fought within me. I slammed my hand
against the stall boards. Why am I angry at them, I questioned myself. Hearing the distinct sound of the
hacksaw cutting through the bodies, I became sick. I crawled back in the bed and covered my head.
“Wake up, you have rested enough.” Leading me into the room where the bodies were, he
motioned for me to pick the parts up. “I will cut the meat and you will load it up.” “Do you
understand?”, he asked. I nodded yes and began putting the severed limbs in the wheelbarrow.
“Take it out back to the pigs.” “I trust you won’t try to run.” You will not get very far in your
condition and the weather” He was right, still bandaged and weak I knew I would freeze. Reluctantly I
put a arm, leg, and head in the wheelbarrow.
Once again, the cold made me shiver as I treaded through the snow. The night was calm. The
moon shined down on the solar panels that lined the buildings. I was on some sort of homestead.
Nearing the structure that housed the pigs, I cringed at the thought of feeding them. The squealing led
me to the hog house. Opening the door and entering, I gasped in horror. Piles of bones lay everywhere
within the house. The pigs squealed in delight as I tossed the body parts to them. The smell was pungent
and took my breath away. Not being able to hold back, I vomited the only liquids I had in me. After
unloading my delivery, I left to retrieve another load. Feet still bandaged, and I was cold, the thought of
running left my mind. Yearning for the warm bed, I trudged my way back to the barn. This went on
throughout the night.
“Almost done, this is the last of it.”, he said as he cut through a torso of a woman. “You have done
well, and I am proud of you.” “I know your cold and must be thirsty.” Yet, you still have forty-eight hours
left until you can replenish your thirst. “Keep motivated and you will triumph over your it” After the last
load was completed, he led me to the bed and rebandaged my wounds. Curiously looking down at my
severed toes, I seen I was missing five of them. The same as he bandaged my hands. I was four less
fingers. Two were gone from each hand.
My stomach grumbled as I tossed and turned. All I could think about was water and food. I
eventually passed out from the nights work. Waking up, I felt disoriented and weak. The hunger for food
and water still consuming my thoughts. “Twenty-Four hours left”, his voice said from outside the stall.
“Get up, I have more work for you.” “You have to earn your keep.”
The man then entered the room and placed the collar around my neck. “Here is a coat to keep
you warm, he said as he placed it on my back. Then he handed me some rubber boots. “These should
help keep your feet dry while you dig.” Wanting to ask, dig what, I didn’t dare from the fear of being
struck again. The task will be difficult but not impossible. Handing me a shovel, he led me to the spot he
wanted dug.
“The weather has let up and the temperature has risen. I can not trust that you might try to run.
He then locked the chain to a stake in the ground. “The hog house needs cleaned of the bones.” “Dig me
a hole big enough to bury the remains of the less fortunate.” “I will return in twenty-four hours.” You
have fared well so far, keep up the good work and you will be rewarded.” He then turned and walked
away.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and it felt warn against me face. The black sky turned to a
canvas of pastels. The view was stunning under any condition. After admiring the horizon, I started my
grueling work. Trying to dig with missing toes was difficult and excruciating. Placing the shovel into the
frozen ground, I bared down with all my weight. Breaking the ground seemed unfeasible, but I managed.
Letting out agonizing cries, I repeated the movements until I finally moved dirt.
Scanning around, my head was on a swivel looking for cameras. The thought of trying to escape
weighing heavily. Using my bandaged hands, I felt for any gaps in my collar. It was tight around my neck.
I Then looked for any weak links in the chain but found none. The steak the chain was hooked to must
have been buried ten feet, I thought as I gave it a tug. Giving up on any escape attempts, I continued to
dig.
The hunger and dehydration had started to take effect. My head pounded like a hammer on a
nail. I became nauseous. Fearing I might throw up, I sit and rested on the ground. Looking down at the
homestead, I wondered who the man was. Nearly falling asleep, I pushed myself up off the ground.
Visions of water surrounding me engulfed my every thought. God, I was thirsty.
After I finished digging the hole I fell to my knees in exhaustion. Worrying that if I fell asleep, I
would die of dehydration. Standing up, I desperately tried staying awake. The chain weighed down my
neck making it hard to stand. Using the shovel as a brace, I wedged it into the ground and balanced the
chain over top of the shovel. It lifted the weight off me, allowing me to stand easier. Standing and
swaying, I watched as day turned to night and night back to day. “Congratulations”, the man said as he
walked up the hill toward me.
“II knew you would conquer the test.” “You will soon be rewarded for your victory.” Leading me
back to the barn, I stumbled and fell. The man picked me up and helped me to my feet. As He laid me in
the bed, oddly enough I wanted to thank him. “Before I tend to your bandages, I am going to start an I.V.
to restore your electrolytes. He then handed me a cup of water. “Drink”, he said. Wanting badly to gulp
it down, I refrained and sipped slowly. The water was refreshing as it moistened my mouth. Water
wasn’t something I normally craved but, in that moment, it was all a I wanted. Living mostly on energy
drinks and sodas, I rarely drank it.
As I sipped, I thought about my body and how I had neglected it. Peculiar enough, the man was
giving me all I ever needed. He had somehow managed to push my stronger version to the surface.
“Good news”, he said as he wrapped the final bandage around my foot. “You have made it to the last
trial.” “But before we discuss that, I want to reward you on your accomplishments.” “I’m sure you have
questions, and I will allow you to ask them.” A little conversation will do us both some good.” I must say
I am as curious about you as you are of me.” He said as he poured me another cup of water. “But not
until you have rested.” “I look forward to it, I will see you this afternoon.” Locking the door behind him,
exhausted, I fell asleep.
Hunger pains interrupted my slumber. Turning about in the bed, images of food ravaged my
thoughts. Trying hard, I managed to push the vivid images of cheeseburgers out of my mind. Replacing
them with the image of the man conversing with me. What would I ask him, I pondered. Would I set him
off again and be fed to the pigs. One would think that I wouldn’t want to talk to him after he had cut off
my nose, yet strangely enough I did. I was curious about him.
My tossing about abruptly interrupted as I heard the man enter the room. “Well now, how do you
feel this afternoon?” He asked, as he pulled a old wooden chair next the bed and sat down. To scared to
speak I laid quietly. “It Is o.k., he said cheerfully as he patted my leg. “You may speak”. “Better but
hungry”, I managed to mumble. “Yes, I know you are hungry, but you have entered your final trial.” You
must endure three weeks with no food.” You have been here a week.” “Two weeks remain.”
“People of the world are gluttons. Indulging in prepackaged garbage to feed the body. Never
having to hunt or forge for it. If you make it the three weeks, you will have learned to appreciate what
you put in your mouth. You will think about what it is for, rather than just stuffing your face. Do you still
have the desire to live, for you I truly hope so.
“What is your name?”
“Liam, my names, Liam”
“Well, Liam, my names Doc” “It is finally nice to meet your true self.” I’ve been waiting along time for
this.” “You are now worthy to speak to.” “You have shed your old, infected skin and are growing new
skin.” “I have helped you thus far to create a better, you.” “You may speak freely”.
“Why are you doing this”?
“To save you.” “To rid you of the worlds temptations” “I am extracting all you have digested and
replacing it with the will to survive.”
“Who are you”, I fearfully asked.
“I am a doctor who the world cast out due to what they call negligence.” “I only pushed my patients to
better themselves and refused to subscribe fake antidotes”. “I didn’t hand them a crutch when they
could walk on their own.”” I left the city and moved off grid”. “Here I am free to practice as I see fit”.
“My patients now, are those that want to better themselves but just need a little push.” “Yet, none have
come as far as you, Liam.” “What is it, you desire, Liam?”
“A life of fulfillment”, I said.
“Are you not now, achieving that goal, Liam?”
Before I could answer, he told me, “Enough talk for the day”, we have work to do. “Don’t speak
unless I ask you to”. Unhooking my I.V., he then furnished me with warm clothes and boots again. “Grab
the wheelbarrow”, he said as we excited the barn. He then led me to the hog house. “I want you to pick
up the bones and put them in the hole you dug. Feeling weak, I pushed through the chore. The sight of
the mutilated parts wasn’t as repulsive to me as before. Yet, I did wonder who they were and where
they had come from. The day sped by quickly.
That night, I laid in the bed thinking of the man. Could he be right with what he was doing. I did
feel a new feeling of accomplishment. Had I truly shed my old self. Had he had given me what every
doctor before him had failed at. Questioning my own thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.
As the days went by, I would often help him rid the world of the weak. Every few days he would
bring in new patients. One after one they failed his trials. Some made it past the first, only to die in the
pen or the cooler, depending on the weather. We had many evening conversations where I learned
more about Doc, as he did me. Some nights I would listen to him mourn their deaths. He would often sit
by the stove talking to himself and crying. He would question their inability to understand what he was
doing. Finding myself somewhat sympathetic to him, I spoke out. “It’ll be o.k. you’re a good doctor, they
just don’t have a desire to live. “Thank you”, he said, “but do not speak unless I tell you”. With that I
climbed into bed and covered my head.
Ribs now visible, I was nearing death. No longer having the energy to help him any longer, I spent
the remaining few days in bed. As the final day approached, he came to me and said, If you don’t die
through the night, I will intravenously feed you the nutrients your body requires. Then you can truly live
your life. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled the blanket over me. You have been an outstanding and
cooperative patient and I thank you. Share to the world the gift I have given you.
Waking up, I was confused and again fighting off a sedated state. Rubbing my eyes in dismay, I
stumbled out of bed and tripped over my tennis shoes. Looking down at my disfigured feet, I was
perplexed at the sight of the floor. Continuously wiping at my vision, I scanned the room. Soda bottles
littered the nightstand. An empty potato chip bag lay empty on the bed.
Falling onto the floor, I curled up into a fetal position and cried. Visions of the dead filled my
thoughts. My mind was baffled with an emotional and ethical struggle. Four, four, four, I tried to
manage as anxiety reared its ugly head. “No!”, I yelled. I was alive and I was thriving. Quickly jumping to
my feet, I ran to my dresser mirror. It would be the first time, seeing the new me since my amputations.
Raising my head slowly my eyes met a man I had never seen before. A mangled mess stared back at me.
Yet, I didn’t see the ugly. I seen a victor. A man who fought for his life. I seen a man with the desire to
live. Admiring my new self, I calming starting whistling that familiar tune. I knew what I had to do.
The next few months, I spent talking to the detectives. Occasionally throwing them a false bone
toward their investigation. Had I not been a missing person, I would have avoided the police all
together.
A year has passed since my abduction. My life has changed for the better. I have faired well. I
often think about Doc and if he is still practicing. I did what he asked. I survive, appreciate, and share my
new gift to the world. I no longer spend my days waiting for life to toss me a crumb of its cookie. There
is value in the very air we breathe, the water we drink, the dwelling that shelters us, and the nutriment
we eat. Yet, it’s been difficult to convince people of this without some persuasion. So, please calm your
breathing. I am not going to kill you. This will only take three minutes. So, relax, do you have the desire
to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.

I am NOT THE OOP, that is u/ExotiqueMagnifique
Trigger Warnings:>! Infidelity, Forced Marriage!<
1st Post: June 19th, 2023
So, I (18m) was born in Port Said in Egypt when my mother was 21 and my father was 38. My father had invested into my grandfather's business and helped stop it from failing and getting married to was pretty much his "reward". It sounds icky to think about but that's how it is in places like that sometimes. When I was ten, my mom admitted to my dad that she'd been having an affair with a guy named Sayid who was eight years younger than her and asked for a divorce.
Somehow, my dad got actual proof of the divorce beyond just her words and from what I understand, infidelity can be treated as a serious crime in Egypt. So, he got her to agree to a divorce where she gave up full rights to me in exchange for complete silence from him. Later that year, my dad and I moved to Canada and my mom and Sayid got married.
My mom would write me letters for a bit and mail presents so I knew that she and Sayid got married, moved to Cairo where they both got jobs and they had a daughter. From what I've been able to tell from the letters is that she's happy and I don't really ever remember her being that way. Eventually the letters became less frequent and now I get like three a year. I got one earlier this month where she told me how proud she was that I was going to graduate from a Canadian school and it made me cry.
After graduation in July, I'm going to Egypt with my uncle to see family in Port Said. My girlfriend is going too because her family is in some city in the Sinai. I told my uncle that I want to take some time to go and see my mother and he seemed uncomfortable with the idea because to him, the idea of the trip was to introduce me and my girlfriends' families to each other so we can get married after university. He talked to my dad about it and my dad told me I'd be wrong to go.
My dad pointed out that while he'd taken full custody and may have been wrong to do so, my mother had never done anything other than write me a letter, she'd never tried to add me on social media, she'd never come to Canada to visit, she hardly ever phoned anymore. When I tried to argue he started talking about how if she'd wanted to be with Sayid she would have divorced the right way and what she did showed that she didn't think about me. When I told him that I still want to meet her he huffed and said he was disappointed and seemed very sad afterward. I know she really hurt him but am I the asshole for wanting to see her?
2nd Post: May 1st, 2024
Thankfully, I didn't make a big post so I got a few comments which were focused on being helpful.
I did go with my uncle to Port Said and I did meet with my girlfriend's family and I think that I won them all over. We're not formally engaged or anything but we will be in about a year. Egypt is a lot different than I remember as a kid, people are a lot less open and more guarded. My girlfriend's family thought that because I was from Canada, I'd be partial to the MB because apparently immigrant kids are. It was really weird.
But I did go to Cairo to see my mom even though I promised my dad that I wouldn't see my mom. I know that what she did was wrong and I do resent her for doing it but I don't want to be the guy who didn't see his mom at all when he was a kid. I mean, if I'm getting engaged next year then I won't be a kid then, I'll have to actually grow up. I don't know, it's a weird thought process but it's mine.
So I convinced my uncle and we went to Cairo. He called my mom to tell her that he wanted to meet her but he didn't tell her that I was coming because he didn't want word to somehow reach back to my dad. They don't talk so that was weird but I didn't bring it up because I was happy that he agreed. My mom works in finance for one of the biggest film studios for Cairo so she took the day off when we went but her husband was at work and her daughter was at school (she's doing some kind of summer classes or something). We went early morning so we could leave before they came back.
It's weird because my mom isn't how I remember her exactly. She has short hair now and she looks really, really young. She wasn't wearing anything traditional. And weirdest of all is how tall she is, she was almost as tall as me and was taller than my uncle. I mean obviously as a kid I thought she was tall but we all do then but she's legitimately like six foot one or something.
She let me and my uncle in when we went but she didn't recognize me at first and it was awkward so I didn't say anything but then she suddenly did and she hugged me and broke down crying and kept saying thank you to my uncle and she actually fell because it was like her legs couldn't hold her up and I had to. My uncle excused himself and said he was going to go meet with some friends in the city and it was nice being alone and when we were, I started crying too. And I think it was because she kept calling me by all the babynames she had for me in Arabic and saying things like "my heart is back".
After we both calmed down I asked her why she stopped writing and she told me that she started hating herself for not being in my life and started believing that I hated her. That she doesn't have social media so she couldn't find me online and that email wasn't personal. She eventually tried something drastic and her husband got her mental health help which brought her to a good place but it led to her writing a lot less.
She was sad when I told her that I would be leaving when my uncle came back because we'd be going back to Canada in a few days but she said it didn't matter because I was still her heart. She promised to write more again. She also said that she knew she couldn't come to Canada for my engagement and my marriage when it happens but pretty much begged me to livestream them all and that way my dad won't know. She barely told me anything about her because she kept making me tell her about things I've done but she did tell me about her job and all the actors that she's met.
It sucked when my uncle came back and I had to go and we cried again but I felt better about it, even though my uncle made me promise not to tell my dad. Since then, she has been writing to me a lot more and we've been emailing as well. She actually sent me a video of her and a top actress in Egypt where she got the actress to say hi to me and my girlfriend.
I don't know how many of you are going to read this giant thing that I wrote, but I am thankful for the few of you who helped me out and helped me make my mind. I guess I have felt a lot better since then because I know that my mom loves me.

Hey y’all…I just need to vent.\ I decided to move to a school district closer to home a few years ago as a starry-eyed teacher for the Deaf convinced that I could build a better program.\ And, with the help of some wonderful interpreters and outreach to some Deaf adults in the surrounding community, WE did build a better program!! One that emphasized communication access and respect for Deaf space. We ousted a teacher who abused the kids and had zero care or respect for the Deaf. We brought some students out of years of language deprivation and into varying degrees of functional communication; given their ages at when this transition occurred…it was remarkable! I even saw a few kids go from not being able to name letters to reading at a 6th grade level or greater within a few years of intense intervention.\
A few weeks ago, our special education director retired and some new person not local to the area took over. They have no Deaf Education experience or even classroom experience. They are closing our Deaf Edu elementary program. Everything we’ve built…gone. \
I’m so tired of watching Deaf kids get the bare fucking minimum.
Edit: I apologize for any weird formatting issues. I’m really upset right now and on mobile.

Conspiracy theories involving “elite” pedophile rings have recently been dominating social media in a disorienting frenzy. They have been around for some time but in this century rose back to popularity during the 2016 Election cycle. This crop, at least, took root with what became known as “Pizzagate.” Promoters of that conspiracy theory in 2016 used social media platforms to make unfounded but viral allegations that Hillary Clinton and other prominent Democrats were running a pedophile ring out of the basement of a pizzeria even though that restaurant had no basement, or any ties to known politicians other than the typical flesh pressing (Phrasing I know) moments fit for a picture hung on the wall. Since then, the dark theme of Pizzagate has found new life with permutations forming part of the #Qanon conspiracy theory, incorporated under the umbrella term “pedogate.” The gist of the #pedogate conspiracy theory is that global elites (politicians, celebrities, and wealthy businesspersons) are covertly involved in a far-reaching ring that uses young children for sexual purposes. “What most of these conspiracy theories involve in one way or another is laying accusations of pedophilia or involvement in pedophile rings at the feet of people that they despise or hate, and during the 16’ election cycle, Democrats were a wide target for an opposing political movement that had hijacked the rival Republican party. Pizzagate originated with the “alt right” and “alt lite,” far right extremists who range from outright white supremacists to those who publicly shun racists but otherwise fall in step with their belief systems. Pizzagate jumped from the fringes to the mainstream because as it denigrated Hillary Clinton, it sucked in supporters of then-candidate Donald Trump. After the election all mention of pedogate seemed to be put on a simmer while other National outrages boiled over (#Covid #RussiaGate #BLM) and just like clockwork (heading into our next election cycle has been turned back up. The pedogate conspiracy and all associated stories employ a centuries-old tactic: playing on deep-seated human anxieties by conjuring images of imperiled children, the purest and defenseless victim of any manner of injustice. An example in the modern era of weaponized conspiracy was the satanic panic of the 1980s, in which a wave of hysteria over alleged child molestation at daycare centers swept the nation. But while that phenomenon was a moral panic attributable, at least in part, to social anxiety over white middle class women entering the work force en masse for the first time and entrusting their children to others, the current conspiracy theories about pedophile rings equate to similar propaganda. They carry a danger for stirring up violence. If you want to elicit violent action the way to do it is through hate and fear. Once you target and label a population as pedophiles, you can do anything you like to that population with full excuse being given to the myth you’ve wrapped around it. That’s not to say fears of child abuse or sex trafficking are unfounded. There are many as pedophilia has ancient roots and in many cases was encourage by many world cultures and religions a lot later into Civilization than we’d like to admit. The International Labor Organization reports that 25 percent of the world’s 40.3 million victims of human trafficking are children. The most vulnerable, according to the National Human Trafficking Hotline, are migrants, runaways, the homeless, and youngsters who have been victims of violence. Despite their obsession over the topic, conspiracy followers aren’t worked up about those children who are in true harm’s way. In the world of propaganda, it’s never about real children. Instead, it’s about what children represent. The children imperiled by conspiracy theories, in other words, are only metaphors. Children carry a vast amount of weight in any society, but especially modern ones when they’re expected to survive past the age of five. It wasn’t as intense before the 18th century when child mortality rates were really high. They represent the future, and all that is beautiful and decent and honest in a society, because they are innocent. For most people also, the meaning of their existence is rooted in their children. Children are eschatological, they represent death for us, and what is coming behind us after we are gone. They also represent the threat of loss, if they disappear, if they die, that is the death of society. That’s why they became so crucial and central to Cold War propaganda. The real terror of the nuclear holocaust would be the death of the children, because that’s the death of everyone. A recent example of this is in a recent police investigation into conspiracy claims of PizzaGate style accusation of Portland’s Voodoo Doughnuts. Detectives attempted to contact the person accusing Voodoo Doughnuts on social media of running a pedophile ring. The accuser did not cooperate with investigators and it’s been documented in other coverage online that they had become agitated and accused the Police with complicity when tracked down in person, even though they were attempting to investigate. The pendulum of conspiracy theories about systematic child abuse has swung back and forth for centuries. Examples such as blood libel, when Jewish communities were attacked over false allegations of murdering and consuming Christian children in the Middle Ages. In Europe, During the Thirty Years War, entire villages were put to the sword because it was believed they were abusing children of the other religions. One characteristic that helps Pizzagate-style conspiracy theories gain popularity is that they function like a puzzle game and give its audience a large level of involvement through social media. A lot of conspiracy theories are oracular, where the information comes from one source an oracle. Then there are others where there are a few people who promote the notions, almost like gurus or a conspiracy priesthood. But Pizzagate, it’s more of what one would call a participatory conspiracy theory. Participatory conspiracy theories lay out a scenario or situation and then they ask their audience, ‘what more can you find out about this, what more can you add?’ It turns the audience into willing participants, some knowing they are creating a destructive madlib and other (potential real victims) caking on mystical distraction to issues that have been unreported or scars that have not bee properly treated. The thing about participatory conspiracy theories is it can really create a devoted following because it gives people something to do, it makes them feel they can solve the whole thing or uncover new aspects to it. Once you get that energy going it’s almost self-sustaining. Followers of the Qanon conspiracy theory, call themselves “bakers” because their protagonist “Q” pops up on Internet message boards and leaves “crumbs” (i.e., clues), and they are tasked with picking up the crumbs in order to solve the puzzle. (“Q” is supposed to reference the character’s government security clearance level).
#Q followers believe an even more incoherent version of Pizzagate. This is largely a right-wing fantasy that originated in a series of incoherent posts on #4chan in 2017 by someone calling themselves #QAnon. Following on the heels of similar idiocy such as Pizzagate, it advances a fantastic web of deceit that wraps up Trumpism, deep state fearmongering, evil, satanic pedophilia rings controlled by the Democratic Party, investigations into Russian meddling in the 2016 US election, the Las Vegas shooting, and New World Order paranoia into a package easily and wholeheartedly promoted by internet cesspools and far-right personalities such as Alex Jones. The premise is that President Trump is secretly working to take down a global ring of elite, cannibalistic, satanic pedophiles. And the investigation into Russian meddling into the 2016 election, led by former FBI director Robert Mueller, is actually an investigation into the so-called “deep state”, where a cabal of evil, globalists, including Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, are responsible for everything from a global pedophile ring to the mass shooting in Las Vegas in 2017. According to the enlightened, when Trump awkwardly took a drink from a bottle of Fiji water at a press conference in November 2017, it wasn’t because he was thirsty; it was actually a secret signal to those in the know that the annihilation of deep state pedophiles had begun (or was about to begin). Because as everyone knows, Fiji is a hot spot for child trafficking. ( I could go on and on with this poorly thought-out shit, I will spare you ) The role the Internet and social media play in helping to spread such insanity can’t be underestimated. Just a few decades earlier, conspiracy theorists would identify each other using letters to the editor printed in newspapers and magazines. It was a lot harder to identify your fellow conspiracy theorists. You would have to physically meet to swap your stories or send letters or call. They would set up these groups that would communicate by newsletter. They would meet in a physical space, like someone’s living room. I personally witnessed people from my childhood, dutifully photocopying newsletters they had received in the mail to give to others (Primarily at my #JW congregation, how ironic). Now obviously it can go much more quickly, because you can identity people immediately. You can quickly share ideas and the data you’ve collected. The Internet allows such people to exist in bubbles where they rarely have their beliefs challenged. The extraordinarily polarized society we’re in right now has made people less willing to seek out other view points. Because of the internet you have less chance of doing this. There’s very little incentive to look outside one’s own bubble once they have become invested in a conspiracy theory. Once you start to act out on those behaviors you are forced to double down by repeating the act to prove it was a just act. Eventually you get caught up in a movement that totally defines your conscious and you can’t get out of it. The second you step out of that world view your actions go back to being reprehensible. Now the question becomes, “What’s the harm? If it sheds light on child abuse, then isn’t it still productive?” The answer in this case is a resounding NO. In my opinion and PAINFUL experience, the root cause and sustaining factors of institutionalized child sex abuse are all things that would counter your typical Conspiracy Nut’s world view, thus causing a complete blackout to the problems. The entity taking part in the harming of children on a local and tangible level aren’t some suit and tie wearing global elitist. It’s a guidance counselor, youth pastor, unvetted young substitute teacher, aunt/uncle/cousin/neighbor. It’s anyone who has been given routine private access to a child’s mind and body because of the social conventions that have been protected for generations by our relatives whether they themselves are guilty of abuse or not. In all the Qanon madness I also kept very close tabs on the pending prosecution of the Boy scouts of America and never saw any widely shared memes about their involvement in the abuse syndicate. Why is this? How is this so? Aren’t these people watching the news, seeing the court records and hearing the individual cases being brought against Scout Leaders (SOME OF WHO RAN THEIR OWN NETWORKS!!)? When I would find mention of accusation it was met with the ever scarce “skepticism” because if the media is covering it, it must be a plot to destroy the organization. There are now non-for profit organizations setting up victim funds and protections for people to come out with their stories and somehow THIS is the fake ruse. Some that know me know that I was a Jehovah’s Witness as a youth/teen/young adult. That chapter of my life could fill many chapters and the research on the organization, the real true black and white history of the religion would honestly surprise you. I saw what I now know was abuse, I personally experienced abuse in many forms. The perpetrators involved are either still Witnesses or are dead or have moved “away from the organization”. But one thing that was left intact in each situation was the secret that they prey on children. The parents, these organizations and the collective promise to keep up appearances are directly to blame for the suffering untold thousands, millions of children and broken adults. All for what? Pride and Vanity and a commitment to all involved to protect them from the “mean old world” despite allowing predators to eat their children from within. Being a #JW was a very interesting experience. It provides a very efficient form of insulation from outside society and allows people involved to view the chaos from afar. There is this persistent (albeit false) sense of shared peace that members have. It’s as though for three days a week you go to this meeting where no matter what, everyone has a smile and feels about things EXACTLY how you do. There is no cursing, there are no politics, there surely isn’t any destructive influences that would tarnish your chances of salvation. For a parent this is a refuge when raising a child in a world that is dangerously unpredictable. A Child that you are unable (or unwilling) to teach coping skills to get along by societal standards, A child you want to protect by hiding. This is problem #1. As an adult the congregation presents an avenue for which you can act and behave in a way that allows you to reconcile your past, a way to have less of those nights awake because you think about past wrongs you’ve committed against people. It’s the proverbial band-aid for a guilty, bruised, destroyed conscious of any size. Coming into the organization takes nothing more than the desire to change, publicly declaring your willingness to hand over your life to God (The organization). Bam, You’re in! No credit check, no background check. This is problem #2. A JW is taught that “every facet is an asset” (Ministerial Servants know what I’m talking about). What this means is that every facet of your life is an asset to the organization to spread its word. If the world see’s their product’s application into your life and thereby how much better it is than a normal person’s, then they’ve made an “Effective Witness” to the world. This causes Witnesses of any age to allow almost every facet of their life to be a tool by the organization. For a parent this includes their children. This is problem #3 When you get a culture that insulates itself from the real world, that allows you to enter without any coherent vetting, give access to children whose parents feel obligated to present as a “witness” to the lifestyle. You get a twisted corridor in which victims can get lost for a lifetime and predators can hide in plain sight. For any proponents of the “Save-The-Children” movement to not take a step back and really analyze their local community and lifestyle through these lenses only illustrates that child abuse is being weaponized politically at the expense of others whom you aren’t willing to save because it would look bad for ‘your side’. If you truly care, you wouldn’t be sharing email forwards about what evil unverified unmentionable thing you read some celebrity or politician did. Instead, you’d be drawing back on your experiences as a child. Even if nothing happened directly to you, I’m sure you know some one that had an experience that forever harmed their life. Who did it? Was there a pattern or social condition that allowed for this as was laid out in the JW example? How could it have been avoided? Would you have stopped it if you saw the signs? Are you willing to stop it in the future, knowing what you know now? If you can answer any of those questions with a yes, then you have all you need to WRITE your own material to reach real victims and their families. Does your action cause problems for your ‘side’? It shouldn’t matter and you know that. If it does make a difference to you then you are no better than the shadowy pedophilic cabal that you are so obsessed with.

Thanks in advance to anyone who takes the time to read this.
My life is in a terrible mess & just continues to spiral downwards at a rate of knots. Where I’m at has been heavily influenced by mental illness (bipolar disorder) but equally I take full responsibility for my actions.
I have 2 kids. All I care about is them. But this life I’m living isn’t sustainable.
I’m 42. I’ve been with my wife for 22 years & we’ve been married for 17. Things were good until 7 years ago. At that time my eldest child was 3 & my youngest was a baby. I had a good enough career for my wife to not work for the foreseeable. I had a history of anxiety & depressions & 7 years ago I was put on an antidepressant. I hadn’t had my bipolar diagnosis (won’t get in to all that here) & taking an antidepressant without a mood stabiliser if you’re bipolar generally ends badly. I’d not long started work at a new company & I began to feel very unwell. Even after stopping the antidepressant (when I was diagnosed soon after), I was very unwell for several months. I couldn’t do my job. My wife was at home with a baby & I didn’t want to worry her. I pretended to go to work & sat in my car all day. I thought it’d pass & I’d be better, therefore never having needed to worry her, but things got worse. Sitting alone all day every day contributed. I ended up in hospital a few months later, having suffered a huge breakdown. Even though I had good intentions to protect her, my wife felt hugely betrayed, which I can understand. She has never forgiven me.
I was off work for another 6 months after I got out of hospital. We had very little money coming in & had to borrow money from my wife’s parents. They were very cruel about my mental illness & told me I should be ashamed of myself. I found my way back due to the love for my kids. I got back to work in a more junior role, but have never regained the person I used to be. I’ve been so heavily medicated since my diagnosis & my world’s been turned so upside down that he’s lost.
I had a few years of relative stability & we were able to rebuild some of the damage. But my wife never forgave me. We haven’t had an intimate relationship since before it happened. Then lockdown came & I started to wobble. I got an appointment with a private psychiatrist through my health insurance & he put me on the highest dose possible of a medication called pregabalin (for anxiety).
Fast forward a few months (about 3 years ago) & I had a terrible manic episode. I don’t remember much of it but I had a good salary & credit rating, so was able to take out a lot of loans. Long story I buried myself in tens of thousands of £s in debt. When I came to & that episode ended, I was distraught & had to go to great lengths to hide it from my wife. As I’ll come on to, in all honesty I’m afraid of her. Also, when is a good time to tell someone that? After a year of hiding letters etc. I sunk in to a bad depression in September / October. I’ve been in it since & it continues to worsen.
I’ve been off sick all year. I was hospitalised in January as I was in crisis. It’s been a terrible ordeal for my wife. Illness or not, I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve put her through.
I’m at home all day because the depression has just made everything impossible. I understand my wife’s frustration but all she does is shout at me. I must sound pathetic, but it’s been this way for years. I’m afraid of her. When I tell her she’s being aggressive she denies it. She gaslights me a lot. She calls me lazy & a failure. She tells me to “f off back to work”. There are some days when it’s not too bad but most days it’s constant & extremely aggressive.
My youngest has now been at school full time for 2 years. My wife won’t get a job. She gets angry with me about problems with the house but won’t work. The last time it was mentioned she made my life hell for weeks. I experienced a lot of abuse as a child & can’t stand or cope with bad atmospheres in the house. She kept saying I’d “told her to get a job”.
She knows what I’ve been going through but hasn’t even brought it up. My salary is going to drop soon as I’ll move on to the income protection plan. She’ll then be forced to work so God help me. I’m terrified.
My mental health is a mess. I forgot to mention that the pregabalin prescribed during lockdown has become something I’ve abused the last year or so. I take more when I get my prescription & leave myself with less for the rest of the month. It’s the only temporary relief from this terrible depression & how I’m treated at home.
I have no parents or siblings. Nowhere to go. It would break my heart to leave my kids but I’ve come to realise if I don’t get away from my wife then this is only going to end in one outcome. I’m not far from it at all. I’m terrified of what she’ll do. I would be able to pay the core bills on this house (around £2200) & get a cheap airbnb (I’d need to live on canned food) until this house is sold. But she’d need to work to pay for groceries & ‘non-bill’ things. She can have all the equity from the house when it’s sold. All I want is for the kids to be ok.
One way or the other it’s terrifying: I live with the aftermath of telling her about the salary drop (if my mental health gets any worse it will be dangerous) or I find the courage to leave. If I leave I dread to think what crazy stuff she’ll do.
I’m exhausted, humiliated, ill & I’ve had as much as I can take. I’m only still here for the kids’ sake. But the bad thoughts are creeping in more & more
My wife hates me. I haven’t had a hug in years. She shows no compassion whatsoever. She makes it so blatantly obvious that she can’t stand me but that she’s just here because she has nowhere else to go.. It’s horrific. I haven’t explained it all well enough here. It feels like hell on earth & I’m on countdown now until this explodes one way or another. I’m already at the end of my tether. I just have to make sure that I am still here for my kids. Maybe not in the same house. But I can’t sink any lower & not be here at all

Thanks in advance to anyone who takes the time to read this.
My life is in a terrible mess & just continues to spiral downwards at a rate of knots. Where I’m at has been heavily influenced by mental illness (bipolar disorder) but equally I take full responsibility for my actions.
I have 2 kids. All I care about is them. But this life I’m living isn’t sustainable.
I’m 42. I’ve been with my wife for 22 years & we’ve been married for 17. Things were good until 7 years ago. At that time my eldest child was 3 & my youngest was a baby. I had a good enough career for my wife to not work for the foreseeable. I had a history of anxiety & depressions & 7 years ago I was put on an antidepressant. I hadn’t had my bipolar diagnosis (won’t get in to all that here) & taking an antidepressant without a mood stabiliser if you’re bipolar generally ends badly. I’d not long started work at a new company & I began to feel very unwell. Even after stopping the antidepressant (when I was diagnosed soon after), I was very unwell for several months. I couldn’t do my job. My wife was at home with a baby & I didn’t want to worry her. I pretended to go to work & sat in my car all day. I thought it’d pass & I’d be better, therefore never having needed to worry her, but things got worse. Sitting alone all day every day contributed. I ended up in hospital a few months later, having suffered a huge breakdown. Even though I had good intentions to protect her, my wife felt hugely betrayed, which I can understand. She has never forgiven me.
I was off work for another 6 months after I got out of hospital. We had very little money coming in & had to borrow money from my wife’s parents. They were very cruel about my mental illness & told me I should be ashamed of myself. I found my way back due to the love for my kids. I got back to work in a more junior role, but have never regained the person I used to be. I’ve been so heavily medicated since my diagnosis & my world’s been turned so upside down that he’s lost.
I had a few years of relative stability & we were able to rebuild some of the damage. But my wife never forgave me. We haven’t had an intimate relationship since before it happened. Then lockdown came & I started to wobble. I got an appointment with a private psychiatrist through my health insurance & he put me on the highest dose possible of a medication called pregabalin (for anxiety).
Fast forward a few months (about 3 years ago) & I had a terrible manic episode. I don’t remember much of it but I had a good salary & credit rating, so was able to take out a lot of loans. Long story I buried myself in tens of thousands of £s in debt. When I came to & that episode ended, I was distraught & had to go to great lengths to hide it from my wife. As I’ll come on to, in all honesty I’m afraid of her. Also, when is a good time to tell someone that? After a year of hiding letters etc. I sunk in to a bad depression in September / October. I’ve been in it since & it continues to worsen.
I’ve been off sick all year. I was hospitalised in January as I was in crisis. It’s been a terrible ordeal for my wife. Illness or not, I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve put her through.
I’m at home all day because the depression has just made everything impossible. I understand my wife’s frustration but all she does is shout at me. I must sound pathetic, but it’s been this way for years. I’m afraid of her. When I tell her she’s being aggressive she denies it. She gaslights me a lot. She calls me lazy & a failure. She tells me to “f off back to work”. There are some days when it’s not too bad but most days it’s constant & extremely aggressive.
My youngest has now been at school full time for 2 years. My wife won’t get a job. She gets angry with me about problems with the house but won’t work. The last time it was mentioned she made my life hell for weeks. I experienced a lot of abuse as a child & can’t stand or cope with bad atmospheres in the house. She kept saying I’d “told her to get a job”.
She knows what I’ve been going through but hasn’t even brought it up. My salary is going to drop soon as I’ll move on to the income protection plan. She’ll then be forced to work so God help me. I’m terrified.
My mental health is a mess. I forgot to mention that the pregabalin prescribed during lockdown has become something I’ve abused the last year or so. I take more when I get my prescription & leave myself with less for the rest of the month. It’s the only temporary relief from this terrible depression & how I’m treated at home.
I have no parents or siblings. Nowhere to go. It would break my heart to leave my kids but I’ve come to realise if I don’t get away from my wife then this is only going to end in one outcome. I’m not far from it at all. I’m terrified of what she’ll do. I would be able to pay the core bills on this house (around £2200) & get a cheap airbnb (I’d need to live on canned food) until this house is sold. But she’d need to work to pay for groceries & ‘non-bill’ things. She can have all the equity from the house when it’s sold. All I want is for the kids to be ok.
One way or the other it’s terrifying: I live with the aftermath of telling her about the salary drop (if my mental health gets any worse it will be dangerous) or I find the courage to leave. If I leave I dread to think what crazy stuff she’ll do.
I’m exhausted, humiliated, ill & I’ve had as much as I can take. I’m only still here for the kids’ sake. But the bad thoughts are creeping in more & more
My wife hates me. I haven’t had a hug in years. She shows no compassion whatsoever. She makes it so blatantly obvious that she can’t stand me but that she’s just here because she has nowhere else to go.. It’s horrific. I haven’t explained it all well enough here. It feels like hell on earth & I’m on countdown now until this explodes one way or another. I’m already at the end of my tether. I just have to make sure that I am still here for my kids. Maybe not in the same house. But I can’t sink any lower & not be here at all

My stepmother hates the fact that I exist.
I want to start by saying that I was born before my father and stepmother got together, however they did start their relationship whilst my father and mother were still together who later broke up after around 12 months of me being born. I have never known my parents together, it’s just how it’s always been.
I used to visit my dad once a week, and my stepmother would never really address me or talk to me, and that’s just how it was until she nearly died in childbirth with my youngest sister when I was age 14 (she had two children with my dad). We became closer and I was extremely grateful because I had always wondered why we never gained a relationship over the years. At age 17, 10 years ago, there was a disagreement between me and my dad, stepmum, aunty and nan which resulted in me basically being shunned from the family, and it was over something extremely small and didn’t need to be blown up in the way that it was. Over the first 2 years of limited contact, I was bullied via social media by stepmum, nan and aunty; this included making jokes about my mental health, contacting my friends to try and turn them against me, contacting my mothers side of the family to tell them how much they hated me and them, the list goes on. It went as far as to keep a family illness from me, which unfortunately resulted in what I thought was a sudden death and I was threatened out of going to the funeral - I was called an extreme expletive for asking, beginning with the letter C and something was said in regards to hurting me in some way or another. This was all done without the knowledge of my father, he remained in no contact through sheer stubbornness. Fast forward perhaps 3 years, my dad is back in contact but is caught texting me by said stepmother - she insists he chooses between me and her and there is an attempt at serious assault (her against my dad) with a glass, you do the math. He moves out for a week or so and goes back to her. We text on and off for years, discussing meeting up one day and eventually, 9.5 years after the initial shunning, we meet up. This is met with more anger, I believe she even demolished her own kitchen in rage over the thought of her husband meeting his first child.
Something that should perhaps be mentioned about now, is that my youngest sister has no recollection of who I am as she was only two years old at the time of the original falling out, she is now 13. My dad has informed my sister of my existence at this point, wanting us to eventually meet. The oldest of my sisters is now 20 and we have plans to meet, she’s an adult and can do as she pleases although I sense an element of fear of her mother and that’s why there has been a delay.
This fiasco has ended in the break up of their marriage, all because I exist. Things she has said that my dad has informed me of: - “you only want to see her because she is a piece of your ex”, - “don’t let her see her sister, she will do something evil like poison her to get back at me”, - (I am at university) “I guess I’ll have to go to university so that I am interesting like her (me)”
I want to end this with saying that I am extremely distressed to hear that my existence is causing such upset and aggravation in a household where my sisters reside. I have missed them for years and have always dreamed of the day where I could see them again. At what point do you stop feeling guilty for just existing, living and breathing?
edit there is a lot that is missed out here, small things that would maybe make things sound even worse but 10 years of shit is a lot to rake up and I’m sure there are also things that I have forgotten, this is just a short heads and tails.

A little background: Because of unexpected events, we're both exposed to the real world at the age of 10. (2014-2016) Familiar but not friends. (2017-2018) Got close. (2019-Mid 2020) Mutual Understanding. (Mid 2020-2022) Just friends. (2023-Now) On and off relationship. My mom personally knows him and his family since we were young. His family was able to witness our relationship grow, never knew about the break up and fully supports our relationship.
May 2020: I(15F) started to treat him(16M) coldly after he laughed off my vent of experiencing an awarding ceremony mishap where my name was mentioned but someone else's face was on the screen (this was my third time experiencing such mishap). So I finally decided to end the (1 year) mutual understanding. We still had little to no conversations. Until I slowly started to realize that breaking up with him was a wrong move.
First Week of December 2022: We had a group project, we (just friends 17F and 18M) originally planned to be grouped together, until his friend asked him to be grouped with him because his friend didn't want to be unfamiliar people. Without hesitation and consent, he tried fixing things by entrusting the rest of the members with his GBF to lead us. We ended up forming our own group, without him and his GBF. I asked him what happened and he never replied, ghosted me for a week.
Last Week of December 2022: I was doubting (because he has GBFs) but still tried to get back with him, he agreed and we've fallen for each other all over again. Fast forward to a few months, I opened up about being jealous of his GBFs. He tried lessening their interactions but felt guilty afterwards.
Additional detail: We go to school and home (15-20 min. ride) together. He revealed to me that after he walks me to my house, he goes home and goes back to school for his track and field trainings (as part of his routine, he also likes taking a 1.5km walk going to and coming back from school). After training, he's all sleepy and whole body hurts. I surprised him with a mini ice pack but he barely used it. I was unaware that my concerns became words and actions that downgraded him and he started to dread track and field trainings. Due to what happened and being busy in college, he barely joined trainings again.
He had a big competition where they had to get up early in the morning so they had a sleepover at his friend's house. My best friend was also there, she chatted me that she couldn't sleep and I told her she can ask him(my now BF) for help but she was still too shy to ask. I let him know about how my best friend felt uncomfortable around the other guys, so he volunteered to watch over her. Then he started to think how awkward things got and felt uncomfortable around my best friend. I used his GBFs against the situation, he admitted that compared to my best friend, he wouldn't feel uncomfortable if it was his GBFs. Now all he remembers is that I ruined his competition day.
May 2023: I wasn't allowed to attend prom because of my strict mom, she told me it was unnecessary. He also planned to not go, but during the very last minute, he was forced by his parents because it's a once in a lifetime opportunity. My last chat to him was to enjoy and his last chat was a thank you for allowing him to go and a sorry for breaking his promise that he wouldn't go without me.
After a few days: I asked "Did you drank during prom?", he got all defensive, started avoiding my questions and took him a day before he admitted that he was invited to drink in a room with 1 guy friend, GBF and 4 other girls, without telling me (because he knew I would get mad at him for drinking with his GBF). His statements were "He knows his tolerance level." "He only went with them as a pay back because we're all going to college already."
June 2023: I wanted to invite him to my birthday celebration with my family but was prohibited. I asked my mom for permission to go out with him, still wasn't allowed and was shut off for asking why. I attempted to ask for another permission to go out with my other friends but ended up guilt tripped by my mom, she said "Are you not scared of the past incident when someone attempted to snatch your food?" I ended up not going.
Additional detail: I'm an only child, used to spend most of the time with mom, was never close to dad, and mostly had been laughed off when I tried to bring up things that bugged me, so I grew up not having much friends (my mom said it's because I was always grumpy), and I avoided over sharing. I slowly started to realize that I wasn't allowed to attend prom because my mom expected I wouldn't like people again, even kept asking me "You don't really want to attend prom right?" (but it felt like a knife was pointed at my neck and would be stabbed for saying I really wanted to go)
July 2023: To go out on his birthday, my aunt advised me to write a detailed letter to my mom. I placed it on right her table, it's impossible she never saw it. So he personally asked permission from my mom. I didn't want her worrying about me so I came up with an idea (he knew it was a bad idea from the start) to tell her we would be riding his family's car. My mom expected I would be picked up from our house. So we ended up saying his family was busy and went to a nearby mall instead. That's when my trauma started and resented my parents.
August 2023: We're enjoying our lunch and I randomly saw a notification popped up, it was his GBF. I asked him what he could do about it but he said "His GBFs came first before me and they were there during his hardest times, especially when we broke up (compared to his family, he's more open to his GBFs because they listen to his problems)"
November 2023: As a fight or flight response during our arguments, I would bring up the prom issue and he would start asking me "Just because of the past, are you really choosing to invalidate all the sacrifices and efforts I've made for us?", he even kept asking me to forgive and forget. Then we came up with the plan to tell my mom about our relationship.
Additional detail: We went out during November and I had a curfew to reach home by 5. He convinced me to stay longer, but I started worrying that I'll be scolded once I reach home. We were buying food, I really didn't know which one to choose and ended up giving the staff a silent treatment which I'm really ashamed of. I was also scolded for violating the curfew time. My mom even told me that I should be thankful for her effort of not letting my dad know that I went out. Now all he remembers from that day is my silent treatment.
December 2023: All was going according to his plan, he bought presents during their family trip. But I screwed up the very last minute, I was concerned that he's exhausted from the trip so I asked him if he's really prepared, because of my doubts he called off the confession.
May 2024: We're arguing over everything in a never ending cycle. He called me sexist for wanting him to be the one to face my mom. I had to convince him to come with me and I'll do the talking (we're planning to confess in the upcoming month). Now, he's still passing the responsibility to me, expects me to do it on my own.
Additional detail: He said I'm too emotional, and my vents had been draining him, so I had to promise that I'll stop sharing the littlest things that's happening in my life. But once I started sharing stories (turning into rants) again, he would break up with me, saying that the only way I can get back with him is to face my mom on my own.
TLDR: I(15F) broke up with him(16M), got back together after 2 years. Due to unresolved traumas, and having a hard time facing my strict mom(57F) to confess our(19F and 20M) relationship, we're now on and off and stuck in a never ending cycle of hurting each other. What strategies can help us gain courage to approach my strict mom to confess our relationship? Would appreciate all the thoughts and advices, thank you in advance!!

My therapist told me they are moving in a few months and our sessions will finish.
We talked about it last week. About what our time has meant to me and the impact this would have. We both ended up crying a lot.
I felt so emotionally rinsed after that. Almost numb.
This week I couldn’t go back. I left a letter at their door saying I’m done.
It felt like if I was to continue our sessions until they move that it would be wasted effort. All for nothing. And that it would keep being upsetting for us.
Did I overreact? Should I have tried to end things in a less emotional way?
Note: I appreciated them showing emotion. I don’t want my therapist to be a robot. I did feel a guilty about it though.

Hi there fellow agents. Here's the latest vendor reset information for The Division 2.

Notes

Nothing worth mentioning from our end this week.
See you next Tuesday.

Items on Sale

Here's the web page link for all the items available in the game. It will always be the same link. It's my personal website and I don't run any kind of ads.
https://rubenalamina.mx/the-division-weekly-vendor-reset/
I added a resources section with a map with 30+ locations to find the Snitch and a link to the datamined gear attribute sheet.

Cassie

Cassie is a gunrunner vendor that moves location every couple of days. To find her, you need to talk to Jared "The Snitch" Nash in one of the locations I have listed on my map. His location is random but it usually takes 2 or 3 location visits for him to spawn. After you talk to him, he will give you a bounty and Cassie will appear on your map with a shopping cart icon. You can do the bounty or save it for later, it's not necessary to browse Cassie's inventory.
She will open for 24 hours and will close to relocate for 32 hours. These are her open times:

• Sunday 8:00 PM EDT
• Wednesday 4:00 AM EDT
• Friday 12:00 PM EDT

Besides her random stock, Cassie will always sell two named items: the Shield Splinterer assault rifle and the Hunter-Killer chest. In order to see these two items, you need to have opened the ivory chest at the White House and the Off-white chest at Haven. You get keys for these chest by killing the hunters in DC and NYC.

Resources

Timers Website

A couple of members of The Division Community Discord made a site that shows all the in game timers in your local time zone. It also has the open and close timers for Cassie so you can use it to check if she's open or not before you go find the snitch. The site can be accessed here: https://divisiontimers.com

Wiki Page

The link for the current weekly thread and the vendor items list is always available in the Vendor Reset Page in the community resources. You can find it in the top navigation menu of the subreddit. If you're on mobile, it will be on the sidebar.

The Division 1 Reset

Some of the guys and girls in the vendors team are trying to keep The Division 1 vendor resets alive. The sheet will be automatically updated when they are done, even if they haven't posted their weekly thread. I will add an edit with the link to their weekly thread when they are ready. These reset happen on Friday nights at 7pm EST.

• Items on sale

Credits

The resets are brought to you by a dedicated team of fellow agents from this subreddit and The Division Community Discord. Thanks to u/DizNootz, u/Google-1234, u/Hurinzor, u/Duke_Shambles. u/Insecurity_exe and other volunteer agents who have been constantly helping. Thanks to u/BestNadeThrower for starting the sheet we are using for The Division 2.

This happened on 27th April.
I've gathered evidence to get ownership of the dog solely in my name and a solicitor sent out a letter of demand on Friday.
He was gifted to us back in October 2022 from his mum.
I have been his primary carer ever since; I've done everything for him however the microchip is in his name (but he signed all details over to me except the name on the microchip..) the KC register and insurance are in his name. We split up in October last year and dog remained with me whilst he moved back in with his mum 2 hours away.
In February we both signed a written contract i typed up and printed out that said he owes me money and that ownership of the dog stays solely with me because he's in 40k worth of debt, has a history of taking cocaine and being irresponsible and staying out all hours of the day whilst I'm stable and work from home.
He assaulted me on the 27th and took him from me and he's under criminal investigation with police for a lot of stuff he's done to me but they cannot recover the dog.
With everything I've provided (proof of gift, proof that he's been with me and would stay with me, the signed contract, vet bills, witness statements saying I've been looking after him alone receipts for food etc) if it ends up in court would it be me who would get him? I feel like he's going to ignore the letter like he always does with stuff like this.
Also if it does go to court and I fill out an N1 can anyone provide some advice on what I should be writing and what the turnaround is? I miss my boy like mad and i hate that he might think I've abandoned him.
Thanks

Dearest Love,
It has now been 264 days since I last heard your voice. That I could see the disappointment on your face. I wish I had realized at that moment that it was my last chance to reach you. But a fool is foolish. And I am a fool, always have been.
Where should I start?
That I've been in love with you since we were in elementary school together? Or the fact that you broke my heart for the first time at the age of 14 when you met your first boyfriend?
Of course you weren't aware of any of this. When you disappeared from my life overnight at the age of 15, you didn't realize that it had shattered my world. I really thought back then that I would never see you again.
All my friends were in love with you. One even wrote you love letters. You never found out who'd send you these.
For us you were mysterious. So serious. So sad. So brave. So cheeky. So loud. So quiet. We were too young and too stupid at that time to understand what you were going through at home. To us you were just a beautiful mystery.
I had my own tragedies at home and I dreamed myself away. With you. And just then you disappeared. Nobody knew where you were and nobody had a clue what happened to you. There were the wildest rumors, but nothing tangible.
Five years later I was drunk in the club and you smiled at me from across the bar. I swear I was immediately sober. It was like I had seen a ghost, but you were real. Damn you were real!
You asked me how I was doing and whether life had been good to me. This was the happiest night of my life and I didn't want it to end.
When we said goodbye at dawn, I asked you if we would see each other again and you said, "Meet me at the party at Fusion on New Year's Eve." Damn, that was still 3 months away and how was I supposed to find you there? Among hundreds of people?
I found you. Exactly at midnight and we kissed. From that day on we belonged together.
But two children from broken families. This is destined for chaos and pain.
I moved to the other side of the country with you to put the past behind us. But you can't run away from your problems. They will always follow.
We dealt with the pain within us differently. You wanted to talk about it. About you, about me, about what happened in our families. I wanted to be silent.
You solved your problems in therapy. I drowned my problems in alcohol.
At the beginning of our relationship we went dancing together a lot. We celebrated, we drank, we looked for intoxication.
But then you changed. And I stayed the same.
You hid in books. I hid in clubs. You looked for new friends. I kept the old ones.
You've started studying and pretty soon you got a scholarship. Now you were no longer just beautiful with a loving soul, but also eloquent and smart.
And I? I became mean. I disappeared for nights at a time. I didn't keep my promises. I drank, I gambled, I did drugs. I woke up in strange apartments and had trouble with even stranger people.
And so the past had caught up with me and the future was calling for you. But you didn't want to give up on me and I didn't want to lose you.
So I pulled myself together, looked for a good job and I earned good money. But one can't keep a woman like you with dollar bills. You never looked for expensive gifts or status. All you ever looked for was love, respect and sincerity.
And I was not sincere.
You wanted respect. I laughed at you. You wanted love. I left you alone. You wanted to be my friend. I was your enemy.
And so you slowly said goodbye.
You didn't want to have to fight all the time anymore. You didn't want to have to cry because of me anymore. And I get that.
First you moved out. Then you had less and less time for me. When I called you, you often didn't answer the phone. When you did I heard you laughing on the phone with your friends in the back. You seemed to have a lot of fun. But you hardly laughed with me anymore.
264 days ago we had set up a date. We hadn't seen each other for two weeks. I canceled half an hour before I was supposed to pick you up. You were angry. "Why can't you just keep a simple promise?" I told you I was sick. A lie. Two hours later you showed up at my door. You brought me muffins, tea and some meds.
And I? I was hungover, playing poker.
The disappointment. The disappointment on your face. You asked me if I really ditched you for a poker game.
And I? I replied with, “At least I won $1,000.”
You gave me a sad little smile and asked me if I had anything left to say to you.
I laughed at you and said you were childish. That you're being overdramatic as always. That you're always causing stress.
And you said, "okay, if that's all you have to say, I'm leaving now."
I said we can see each other tomorrow.
And you said, "No, I'm leaving. For good."
You've said it a thousand times before, but this time I knew it was different.
I held you back and looked into your eyes saying: "I want to change. I really do. But I need time and your patience."
And you said: "You've had 10 years to appreciate what we had. Now you have the rest of your life to accept that I won't be a part of your life anymore."
You left.
264 days have passed since then.
Not a word from you.
Every day I try to reach you.
You're gone.
For good.
All of our old friends know you're gone. But no one talks to me about it because they know I messed up.
Since you left, I can't go on anymore.
I dream of you constantly. Sometimes I look for you and ask about you and everyone acts like you never existed. And I feel the despair until I wake up crying.
Sometimes you're standing far, far away from me and I try to get to you, but I can't move a step. So I call you, but you don't hear me. I shout louder until I wake up from it.
Then I lie in bed with my heart racing slowly remembering that you are no longer here. And that it is my fault.
My best friend forced me to go on a date. The woman I was on the date with came closer. She kissed me and I started crying.
I've never felt as bad as I did in that moment. I wasn't ashamed. It was the sadness that burst out of me.
I know people will say it will pass. That I will fall in love again someday. But I do not care. I lost you. I lost the person who believed in me the most. I lost the love of my life.
And it's my fault. I will never be able to forgive myself for this.
That's what was left to say.

I made a post on relationship advice last week. I got the advice I needed. Was apparently too long so i'll try to keep this brief.
Long story short, I met this girl I really liked and our first 4 weeks together were incredible. There was clear mutual interest / a connection I hadn't felt with the 20+ people i'd dated the year prior (I live in a major city where dating apps are the norm). We established early on that we both wanted to take it slow, and that we wanted to be friends first. After 4 weeks, she went cold after a bad, awkward date. After several days, she called me and told me that she wanted to see other people, and that she realized things were moving too quickly. There were apparently incompatibilities that made her lose interest / unwilling to proceed. Which blindsided me considering how close we'd been days prior.
I was obviously devastated. At that point we had made plans to debrief in person and grab drinks later that week. But I couldn't wait and proceeded to do what could've possibly been the absolute worst thing at the time - i drafted and sent an extremely long text detailing all my feelings, reasons why we could be compatible, calling her out on a few things, even offering to be friends. Basically all the thoughts i'd been inundated with those last few days. She proceeded to respond harshly, stating that i'd overstepped her boundaries, that she owed me no explanation for her change of heart, that I'd disregarded both her feelings and decision, and that she wasn't comfortable being friends. She proceeded to block me from everything. This honestly hurt me more than the initial rejection and I've spent the past week processing, understanding this situation.
I've reached a point now where I understand where I fucked up and that her reaction was completely warranted. I'd way overstepped her boundaries, acted completely irrationally, and should've just played things cool and given her space. I've tried really hard to get over it all - the sadness from the rejection but moreso the frustration from sending that letter. I've cried to sad music. I've journaled everyday. I've meditated, run, biked, and worked out every single day since. I've rediscovered hobbies including music and yoga. I've spoken with my therapist, siblings, friends, made reddit posts about this. I even paid $100 for a fucking rage room where I spent an hour breaking things with a bat. I've learned that i'm loved and that I have people who support and care about me. And I've learned from the conversations with those people on how to see the situation and the future - that the best thing to do is to move forward, learn my lesson, improve myself, and most importantly to just go easy on myself and realize that it simply wasn't meant to be.
But still, the feelings remain. I hate myself so much. For how stupid I was in sending that letter. How I could've done things differently. I hate myself for how strongly I feel about this to begin with. It was only 4 weeks! It's just heartbreak. I've gone on so many dates in the past, been rejected so many times. Why do I feel so differently this time? I hate myself for not getting over something so insignificant. People are getting divorced with kids, having their hearts broken after 10+ years of marriage. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm just so angry at myself and still, I don't know why. I know the best thing to do is to love myself, to give myself the same leeway that I would to those closest to me. But it's just so hard. I've tried a CBT exercise I read here recently where I try to picture a stop sign every time I get these intrusive thoughts, and I feel like they've done nothing but build these feelings up. And after a long run just now, I feel like i'm about to burst. I try to meditate to process these thoughts and emotions. But now, I just want to cut myself. I don't want to take xanax. I don't want to drink. I don't want to take to anyone else for advice. I just want to feel pain because nothing else i've tried works. And i know time will help. But it's just so hard, and i'm so tired. I'm not even suicidal. I don't want to die. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Hello everyone,
I have been looking at this sub for a while but this is my first post. Any advice and comment in general is appreciated!
My ex and I are meeting on Thursday before we both part ways as we are graduating from college. I reached out to her and asked to meet just to catch up and see what has changed in her life since we broke up a month and a half ago. I am leaving college and moving back home, back to NY on Saturday, and she is moving back to her parent’s place in NH. As a result, I wanted to meet one last time because this might be the last time we ever see each other.
For context:
My ex girlfriend broke up with me on April 8th. It was kind of unexpected and caught me off guard. Anyways, she said she wanted to break up for two main reasons. The first being distance and the second being that I was putting so much effort into the relationship and she felt the was unfair to me because she didn’t feel the same way. After 2-1/2 year being in a serious romantic relationship, and 4 years of friendship, this is how it ended.
Why I’m posting:
I am posting because I want everyone’s opinion on this letter I wrote for my ex. While I was blindsided by this, she has been nothing but respectful and classy about post break up stuff. Respected the NC and respected me saying I will reach out if I’m ready. So we planned and are meeting on Thursday. I could see myself getting back with her down the road, as my letter dictates. I wrote this hand written letter and want opinion. Thanks in advance!
The letter:
Dear [her name],
As we prepare to part ways and move on to the next chapters of our lives, I wanted to take a moment to express some things that have been weighing on my heart. First and foremost, I want you to know that I harbor no ill will towards you for the decision you made to end our relationship. While it was incredibly difficult for me to accept at first, I understand that you felt it was the best choice for you, and I respect that.
Our time together has meant the world to me, and I want you to know that I cherish every moment we shared. You brought so much love, joy, and growth into my life, and for that, I will always be grateful. Even though things didn't work out the way I had hoped, I am thankful for the experiences we had together and the person you helped me become.
I want you to know that despite the pain of our breakup, my love for you hasn't changed. It may take time to heal and find closure, but I want you to know that I care about you deeply, and I am open to the possibility of revisiting our relationship in the future if it's what we both desire. With that being said, I will not wait on that opportunity to come around and I don’t expect you too either.
That being said, I cannot deny the hurt and sadness I felt when you made the decision to end things. It was a difficult pill to swallow, and it left me feeling lost and heartbroken. While I may not fully understand all your reasons, I respect your honesty and your right to follow your own path. As I said at the very start of our relationship, you never have to justify your feeling to me.
As we say our goodbyes, please know that you will always hold a special place in my heart. I wish you nothing but happiness, success, and fulfillment in all of your endeavors. And if our paths should cross again someday, I hope that we can look back on our time together with fondness and gratitude. My number is always open, so please keep in touch. I look forward to the next time we speak to each other.
Take care of yourself, [her name]. Know that you are loved and valued, now and always.
With love and respect,
Mike

Here's a post of mine from 2017

I'm in.
Hard mode
Indefinitely
My goal is to regain, no find myself. PMO'ing since the age of 12. I'm 27 now. Porn fucked up my life. No more!
Today is one year after my attempted OD. The catalyst was my girlfriend of five years leaving me and me screwing up my career as a firefighter. I was broken then and I'm still broken now. I blame PMO and porn in general. Insanity is repeating the same cycle and expecting a different result. Time to break this cycle.
Post end
^{How naive I was}

Back story with context

I now know my addiction started with MO at the age of 5. I used to do that on a daily basis to self soothe and it didn't help that I discovered what can be done with an electric massager. See my parents got divorced the first time around about then, they remarried each other, only to get divorced again. Mom remarried a abusive alcoholic, moved to my absent father and verbally abusive stepmother, all this before turning 14. Looking back I can see I was neglected and found my own coping mechanisms. Smoking cigarettes, weed and alcohol since 13, other drugs soon followed at 16, whatever I could get my hands on.
Note all my compulsive and addictive behaviours were actively being pursued in some form or another throughout my story, I merely set the stage with the background.
At 19 I lost my virginity to a broken and hurt girl that was on average banging 4 guys a week, she literally had to take off her clothes and ask me whilst naked 'What are you waiting for?' I was so inept and socially awkward. After two hours of furiously boning because I couldn't finish, I snuck back to my room only to jerk off. I recall thinking to myself was that it? Was all the hype about that? Needles to say this girl went and 'cheated' on me after a week, left me a tad embittered.
At 21 I somehow got my first girlfriend, she had been raised by her grandparents because both her parents had tragically died in two separate freak accidents, she had proper traditional values, real wivey material. Wanted to wait until marriage. None of it mattered much to me, I knew what I wanted and at 21 it certainly wasn't a wife. She was studying nursing and I was a firefighter, we were both renting, me with friends, her in a student commune. We started occasionally sleeping over at each other, very innocently at first just making out, cuddling and talking.
post deleted
She took the sheets with to wash and made a hasty retreat, I went to work in a cold sweat, post clarity had never been so fucking surreal nor had it ever garnered so much self loathing.
What had I done.
Later that day she messaged and asked me over where she gave me a hand written letter, front and back, tear stains and little hearts. In it written how beautiful it was, how much she loves me and how no-one can ever find out.
I felt physically sick.
What had I done.
We secretly moved in together and what followed was five years of a co-dependant relationship where she grew to hate me and I went progressively deeper into the abyss of porn.
In the interim my father passed away from cancer, I DUI'd and totalled into a young married couple, got arrested, went to a 'Stress clinic' and broke up with my girlfriend out of guilt. Quickly got back together and a few months later she mercifully broke up with me. I was just so weak. Maybe she just woke from being disillusioned, maybe she grew out of her naivety, maybe my addictions just followed their natural conclusion, maybe PTSD and tragedy got the better of me. She got a new boyfriend, I almost got a restraining order. (She withdrew the case in the judges chamber's on condition I NEVER contact her again) In short succession I slept with multiple partners, a few times while blackout drunk, a few one night stands and I left a wake of pain, regret, broken hearts and shame. All consensual.
Finally I tried to OD on sleeping pills, went back to the 'Stress clinic' and whilst there someone dear called and told me that to gain my life I had to give it away. Found religion or it found me, resigned from the Fire brigade.
Footnote~ The ex got married and became a mother sometime during, heard it through the grapevine.
She'll never have to see me again as per her wishes.
Learnt about NoFap {insert original post}
I moved a couple of states over, away from everything I had broken and everyone I'd hurt. Went on a journey, forgave myself, hated myself, loathed myself, forgave myself again, went on another journey. The whole time PMO and MO came and went.
Streaks came and went. Depression stayed and dark thoughts came back like a long lost friend but I kept on crawling towards the light, towards freedom.
FFW to now
I'm cold turkey from substances and on a 18 day streak. I've come to realise you can't run from this demon and this fight is worth fighting head on. PAWS or Post-accute Withdrawal Syndrome is real and even with my longer streaks I've only been kicking the can further and further down the road by occasionally binge relapsing.
I haven't been in a relationship nor have I had sex since the fallout. Real intimacy absolutely terrifies me and I suffer from anxiety and depressive episodes.
But there's hope!
I've been seeing a life coach, exercising and spending more time with friends and family, joined a men's prayer and accountability group. To go fast go alone, to go far go with others and I'm in it for the long haul.
The penny's dropped.
I can tell something has changed.
I'm coming back to life.
3 months ago I met a girl on a online dating platform, absolutely way out of my league, someone who's beautiful inside and out. I'll be meeting her for the first time this Friday and we'll be spending the weekend together, in a social setting.
I'm excited yet apprehensive. I don't want to place her on a pedestal but I want to treat her like a queen. We're only meeting and nothing intimate will happen, both of us want to wait until we're married be it with one another or someone else. But darn I'm excited. I want to hope again. I want to love and be loved.
I want to live again.
tl:dr

1. Porn can mess you up and the abyss is deeper than you can imagine.
   
2. Addiction is not about the substance but rather underlying behaviours and coping mechanisms.
   
3. Circumstances nor your past should determine your future.
   
4. There's alway's hope!
   

In the starting stage of my career around 1.8 yrs of experience . Yesterday i msged one of my colleague we are both on bench but she is on bench for a longer period then me and also one year more experience shes having. So she said that her manager had asked her to give resignation as she will be effected is company terminate her because of lack of project. So she handed her resignation one day back and today she told me so should i also be scared because right now i am peeing my pants hearing this. But in my case my manager hadn't told me shit whats gonna happen.
What should be my best move now.
One more follow up question - if company lay me off will it not give me experience letter , termination letter and all those formalities.
And if i apply for some other company in future will it make me look bad that i got laid off?

Happened in late 90s to a good buddy of mine. Lived in Bay Area CA in an old subdivision built 1900s to 1930s for the most part. HOA is super relaxed. Mostly not enforced unless a big issue. Basically used to upkeep gardens in the neighborhood.
JD is building an addition on his house. He asked the folks on all sides if it was an issue. It was not. Several neighbors had done similar.
Folks behind them (Lori) said it was cool. Addition is built 90%. Lori is friends with Maria - she lives 5-6 houses away. Maria puts a bug in Lori’s ear about how terrible this is. Finds the clause in the 1912 HOA that the addition was 3 feet over the limit. JD tries to say these are old, outdated rules that he can give 12+ examples other people have violated, no avail.
JD gets a cease building notice. Told to tear it down. 10 months legal battle. Literally ruins relationships of parents, kids…just a huge pain in the ass over nothing.
Lori avoids JD and family. Maria is smug and a huge a hole speaking at every HOA meeting taking the mantle on this fight. Literally yells at JD and his wife when she sees them.
JD gets word the final decision is coming to a head. All parties involve in a packed HOA meeting. Maria pressed her point to get it torn down. JD gets up and says, “Ok, fine. I’ll accept your ruling to tear it down. If we’re going to stick to the letter of the law of these outdated rules then turn to page 127 section 1 - “No minorities will be allowed to live, rent or stay in said neighborhood….” Goes on to list every minority you can think of.
Maria is Hispanic. Her face goes pale.
JD goes, “Are we done with this bullshit?”
They were. HOA rejected, he finished addition. Neighbors all hate each other. Maria moved away shortly thereafter.
AHs and HOAs. JD won but they even moved away a few years later. Didn’t need to happen.

My partner and I are in the early stages of MC. Our counselor had one session with both of us and then an individual session with each of us. My partner told me that in their session with the counselor, they asked what we would do to help heal the pain and move on. The counselor said they just had to "get over it". This is a gottman certified counselor. Is this really it? I thought we would do things to help work through it, I'm not sure what, but I guess I was hoping there was more to it.
FWIW, my partner has separated and they may have been asking how to decide if they should fully leave or not. I know they are wrestling with the decision and may also not have told me everything about their session with the MC. I did not ask any info, they volunteered what they said to me.
Those of you have reconciled through MC, what did you do? How can I help my partner heal? I am trying to do what I can, always talking things out when they need to, always trying to show my love through making them dinner, taking care of our child while they are away (child is too young to understand what is going on), sending little treats with them to have at their apartment, checking in with them on their feelings, but also giving them space to think through things. I wrote a full letter of disclosure and timeline and am just trying to do whatever I can to help because I know I caused all this pain.

LONG POST WARNING
Hello everyone,
My partner (24F) and I (25M) returned home from our 3-week Japan trip last week and due to us using this sub a lot during our planning I thought it would be helpful for other current planners to upload a trip report.
Our main interests are Japanese traditions and history, street style/culture, and food so keep reading if these interests are mutual. Read to the bottom to see how much we spent plus some tips and disappointments.
Prelude
We were caught up in the madness at Dubai airport during our layover. Long story short; Airport (and the rest of Dubai) flooded and caused all the flights to be cancelled. What was meant to be a 5-hour layover turned into a torturous 36 hour wait. No staff to be seen, crowds of people arguing, fighting, and crying. We queued for 12 hours to get a new boarding pass for the next flight to Japan. We were meant to fly to Haneda but settled for Narita as we needed to get out of that place as soon as possible but still ended up missing our first day in Tokyo (should have had 5 days). We can’t complain too much as some of the people I spoke to on emirates were in the airport for up to 5 days before getting a flight back to their departure destination. Oh, and our baggage was missing with us only receiving our checked in bags on day 19. Cheers Emirates.
Day 1
Arrived in Shinjuku around midnight. We went straight to Don Quiojte to buy some replacement cosmetics and clothes. The combination of no good-quality sleep for 48 hours and the stimulating nature of the store was very intense! We then started to walk back towards the hostel and passed a Ichiran, so dropped in for some 2am ramen. Not the best ramen I’ve ever had but was still very good for the price.
Steps: 21,643 (includes some airport steps)
Day 2
Woke up and ate the free breakfast at the hostel (this turned out to be a really good money saver for the whole trip as we are not huge eaters in the morning anyway, but it was good to get something light in us before a long day walking). We then walked through the Shinjuku Gyoen Garden – saw some late blooming cheery blossoms and overall, it was a really beautiful botanical garden.
The next stop was Meji Shrine and a walk through Yoyogi park. The shrine was cool to see, especially as it was our first one in Japan. Saw a middle-aged man wearing denim hotpants so short that his balls were hanging out?!?!
Walked to Shibuya to see the scramble. This was cool but also felt it was a bit underwhelming at ground level but the view from Shibuya station walkway was wicked. Lunch was at a conveyor belt sushi place on the top floor of this department store right next to the scramble. This would be higher than average quality sushi in Europe, so it blew our minds that it was available on the top floor of a department store and for so cheap.
Shimokitazawa – We picked up some bargains at 2^nd street and I treated myself some Japanese jeans from a small Demin shop called Bears. The guy in the shop was super helpful and friendly and even tailored the trousers to exactly my size.
In the evening, we first had a poke around Golden Gai and then headed towards Shibuya and stopped in a cool bar where the owner was mixing vinyl while he mixed your drinks (think it was called Q Bar).
We had previously bought tickets to a gig at Circus for one of my fav rappers who I’d been wanting to see for a while. Also really enjoyed seeing the local Japanese warm up acts. Stayed until 5am and then go the train straight to the Tsukiji outer fish market. Was there way too early and had to wait roughly an hour for thing to open. Went to chill by a bench for a bit and by the time we went back to the market it was rammed! Went to bed around 8:30am.
Steps: 32,159
Day 3
We woke up at 2:30pm, got ready, and headed to the Bunkyo civic centre for the free observation deck. We heard it wasn’t meant to be the best Tokyo skyline view but for a free attraction we thought it was very good! Jimbocho book town was also very cool to see. We had a peak into a couple adult movie/magazine stores where I don’t think the owner appreciated our presence as western tourists.
In the evening, we first went for Ramen at Motenashi Kuraki in Asakusa Bashi. Honestly probably the best Ramen I’ve had to date. I ordered the Black Pepper Shio special, and it blew my mind. Even though the staff didn’t speak English they were very accommodating for my partner who doesn’t eat meat (pescetarian but will brave a meaty broth).
We then had a stroll around Akihabara and played some dance mat games in the arcades before heading back for an earlyish night.
Steps: 28,680
Day 4
I couldn’t sleep so got up around 3am and did some admin stuff to try and get our bags back to us ASAP. Chatted to people in the hostel for a few hours.
We arrived at Senso-ji for around 8am. Wasn’t too busy at this time and the temple was impressive. Went for a coffee down the road and had a chill for about an hour before heading into Asakusa. Got admission to the Drum museum which was wicked. Only 400 yen each and had the whole place to ourselves to smack some big fucking drums and make as much noise as we wanted.
We then started to head towards Ueno but made a slight detour to Kappabashi Dougu street to peruse the Japanese chef knives and other cookware. Grabbed lunch from a 7/11 and went and sat in Ueno park which was super busy. There was some food market event on which loads of food stalls had set up. There was also a stage with some J-pop performers and people dressed as ninjas dancing in the crowd. Weird to say the least. By mid-afternoon we were pretty tired so headed back to the hostel for a nap.
In the evening, we headed down to Harajuku and stopped by Big Love records. My partner is really into vinyl, so this was definitely a highlight for her. She picked up Wu Tang 36 chambers in case you were wondering. We then went for food at Afuri as my partner wanted to try the Vegan ramen to which she said it was ok but nothing special. My cold dipping noodle dish was very tasty, however. We then stumbled across this vinyl listening bar called Bar Music on the 5^th floor of this pokey building on the outskirts of Shibuya for a few drinks before bed. There was such a good vibe in there and the cocktails were super good for the price. If you’re looking for a romantic spot, then this is the place to go.
Steps: 31,818
Day 5
Today we headed to Kyoto on the shinkansen around midday after a slow morning chilling in and around the hostel and catching up on some sleep. Checked in to the hostel and had a walk around downtown Kyoto, stopping at 2^nd Street to buy some more clothes.
In the evening, we headed to Kodai-Ji to see the shrine lit up at night. We couldn’t believe how few people were there as it was stunning and truly magical place to be at night. It also has a bamboo grove (much better than Arashiyama, see below). The bar for Kyoto shrines/temples had been set very high.
Walked down Pontocho alley and stopped at a yakitori restaurant which was just ok. We knew it was going to be average when we looked around the restaurant and it was just western tourists dining.
Steps: 25,255
Day 6
First thing in the morning we rented bikes and cycled across the city to Arashiyama. Parked the bikes at the train station and walked up through Arashiyama. We were expecting it to be busy but there were so many people it was almost impossible to move. Had a look around the bamboo grove and was slightly underwhelmed after our visit to Kodai-Ji so we took the tram and then bus up to Kosan-Ji. This was very much worth the 45-minute journey as there was only one other group there and the temple nestled between the trees overlooking the river was breath-taking. On the whole, Arashiyama was way too packed during peak times to enjoy and with everything else Kyoto has to offer we wouldn’t say it was a must see.
We then picked up the bikes from the train station and cycled back across Kyoto taking the long route to explore and get lost. Once we dropped off the bikes, we went for another explore and this time went into WeGo for more clothes shopping. At this point we’d pretty much matched the amount of clothing that we had packed in our checked-in luggage that was still stuck in Dubai.
After a nap we walked towards the metro and stopped at a Katsu restaurant as we wanted to try something different, and it was pretty good. For the price of 1300 yen each we got so much food/sake and left stuffed.
Fushimi Inari in the evening. Like Kodai-Ji, we would recommend visiting Fushimi Inari at night. Firstly, to help avoid the crowds (we got there around 9pm and there was hardly anybody there) and secondly as seeing it lit up at night is a nice change. It was however slightly creepy at night, especially as it was lightly raining. My partner started to get a bit scared once we saw the signs to be careful of the wild boar and monkeys haha. We didn’t make it to the top of Mt Inari as the rain started to get heavy but still very much enjoyed walking through the hundreds of tori gates, stopping off at the shrines and soaking up the history.
Steps: 23,686
Day 7
Today was a late start as even after 8 hours sleep the 25k plus steps a day was starting to catch up with us.
We took the metro to Shimogamo Shrine in north Kyoto. It was very peaceful and quiet however temple fatigue had definitely set in at this point. We then walked through Kyoto to the beginning of Philosophers path. We had seen on this sub that people recommend skipping it unless its Sakura season however we disagree. The path along the river is so pretty and atmospheric, along with the fish gently swimming along in the river.
Kyoto Hand Crafts Centre – if you have the money then this is a great place to pick up souvenirs.
Pre-booked Sushi Iwa for a 15 course Omakase. The food was amazing, but it came to an eye watering 28k yen each. The difference for our western palettes between mid-range sushi and exceptional sushi is negligible. Nonetheless it was a good experience and I’m glad that we did it.
Steps: 23,751
Day 8
Today was an empty day in terms of things we wanted to do, so used it to walk the city and explore.
We checked out the Nishiki market and ate various fried foods on sticks which were all pretty tasty. We then walked northwards, stopping for coffee before reaching the imperial palace. By this point we were very much bored of temples and structures of similar architecture, but we actually ended up enjoying walking the palace grounds and seeing the buildings more than we thought and would recommend it to those who find themselves in north Kyoto.
A leisurely walk back down towards downtown Kyoto, stopping off at a wicked standing soba joint. Forgotten the name but their curry soba was delicious.
Chao Chao gyozas (only veggie gyoza place we could find) for our evening meal before a night cap at the bar across the road before bed.
Steps: 23,304
Day 9
Shinkansen to Hiroshima arriving around 11am.
Checked into hostel and then went straight to the A-dome, peace memorial and museum. We thought the museum was very moving and captured the horror of the events that unfolded very well. A must see for sure.
Okonomiyaki at Okonomimura and then some vintage clothes shopping in Hondori.
Went back out for food in the evening and ended up getting Okonomiyaki again. This time it we enjoyed it a lot more than we did at lunch (probably because we got it covered in cheese). There are a few streets by Hiroshima station with lots of bars and restaurants on top of each other, much like Golden Gai in Shinjuku, however they are not super touristy and has a more laid-back feel to them.
We then went to some bars in the city centre. The best one we stumbled across was called Tropical Bar Revolucion. It was on the 8^th floor and the smoking balcony overlooked the city. Plus, the beers in there tasted so good and I’m not sure why.
Steps: 23,299
Day 10
A hungover morning. Headed to the Hiroshima National Gardens. Going to some gardens is my go-to hangover activity as its low effort, relaxing, and feels productive. These gardens in particular were great and we really appreciated the signs explaining the history behind the space. Overall, we enjoyed this more than the national gardens in Shinjuku.
Public baths near Dobashi in the afternoon. If you’re feeling brave enough to get your kit off in front of 10s of strangers, then this is a good experience. Male and female baths are separate. Can’t go wrong for 400 yen.
Went for a drink at Bar Pretty and then realised the effect of golden week on trying to get a table walking into a restaurant. Walked around for about an hour with no success so settled for food from a department store food court. Sounds miserable but the food was pretty good for the price, and it was busy in there, so it still had an atmosphere.
Steps: 29,487
Day 11
Miyajima Day. Took the ferry to the island arriving at 10:30am. The Ryokan staff met us at the port and collected our bags to take back to the hotel.
Had a mooch around the port area before doing the hike up Mt Misen. The climb to the top on a hot day is not to be underestimated. Sweating buckets, but the route and the view from the top was amazing and one of the standout highlights of the whole trip.
After descending Mt Misen, we bought some beers, oysters and, ice cream and sat along the beach wall and chilled in the sun for a couple hours. The hotel staff then picked us up from the ferry terminal, we checked in and went straight to the Onsen for a couple hours before dinner. Dinner was a traditional kaiseki meal (with more courses than I can remember) served in the banquet hall with the other guests.
While the staff converted our retro ryokan room and set up the futons we had a few more beers before bed.
Steps: 20,803
Day 12
Today we had a chilled morning on the island, having a stroll and stopping for some coffees. We then took the ferry back to Hiroshima, stopping for Okonomiyaki one more time, before taking the shinkansen to Osaka.
Checked into our hostel near Namba and went out for a walk around 8pm. When looking for somewhere to eat we walked past a sign for a vegetarian Indian restaurant called Shama. After nearly two weeks of pure Japanese food we were craving some variety so decided to head in. Located on the basement floor of a particularly run down looking building the restaurant was not the most glamorous. Barely enough space for 10 people, it was hot in there. A constant stream of people was coming in and out of the restaurant and we were lucky enough to walk in when there were two spaces available. From sitting down at the table to receiving our food we waited just under an hour. This would be enough to put most people off but fuck me the food was good when it did finally arrive. We got a selection of 4 different curries, naan breads and samosa. We left stuffed. If you’re in the area this is definitely a place worth checking out.
Steps: 25,502
Day 13
Our first stop of the day was the Umeda Sky Building. Not suitable if you are scared of heights as the glass elevator made our stomachs drop slightly. The views were impressive but we thought the price was a bit steep at 1500 yen each.
We then spent the afternoon wondering about near Namba and Shinsujibashi dropping into shops and picking up some food.
For dinner we made a reservation for a Mexican restaurant near Dotonbori. Massive margheritas, nachos and enchiladas. The food was great, and it shows by how busy the place was still at 10pm. It had been open since the late 70’s with the décor to match and it had a great atmosphere.
Steps: 27,290
Day 14
Checked out Tsuruhashi and Korea Town. Loved the market – dimly lit maze of numerous food and clothing vendors. Stopped to have some Korean stew and pancakes and it was delicious. One of the best meals of the trip.
Shinsekai in the evening. What I can describe as the armpit of Osaka. We loved it. Dirty? Yes. Rowdy? Yes. Rough around the edges with a red light district to top it all off. We had Kushikatsu to finish the evening off. Fried stuff on a stick – of course it going to be tasty but it wasn’t exactly flavour town.
Steps: 23,777
Day 15
Took the train to Minoh and hiked up the trail to see the waterfall. Hike was easy in comparison to Mt Misen and the waterfall was very cool to see. Had a wonder around Minoh stopping for some lunch at a Ramen bar.
We went to the Team lab botanical gardens in the evening. It was very awe inspiring seeing all the installations lit up.
After sampling Japanese McDonalds (I had a burger where the buns were made out of rice) we went for some drinks at Zerro. We liked this bar a lot, the guys working there were very friendly and it had a good vibe.
We then sat and watched the skaters at triangle park with some beers from the konbini before going to see Dj Masda at Circus until around 4am. This area of Osaka was such a vibe and came back here a few times over our 6 days here. Overall, a very fun evening.
Steps: 26,130
Day 16
Woke up chronically hungover but powered on and went to see a baseball game. You’re allowed to bring food and drink into the stadium (as long as alcohol is in plastic/paper cups) so we grabbed some beers and snacks from family mart. We had no idea what was happening but the atmosphere was electric and we enjoyed getting pissed and cheering.
Had a nap and then went to Hafez for middle eastern food. The food was good but not amazing, nothing in comparison to my local middle eastern restaurant back home. Chilled around the Namba park/Big step area. Loved this area so much, we are big into street fashion and culture so this place really ticked some boxes. Lots of skaters and street wear stores concentrated around here. Got an early night watching Battle Royale back at the hostel.
Steps: 22,065
Day 17
Today we went to the Umeda area. Popped into some shopping centres and had Omurice for lunch. It was tasty but not something I will crave when back home. Good experience trying it though. We then walked through Yodoyobashi along the rivers and got gelato and sat in the rose garden. The sun was beating down and we enjoyed just chilling in the sun eating our ice cream.
Compufunk Records were holding a party in their store. Decent gaff with some very welcoming and kind people to party with until the early hours.
Steps: 21,267
Day 18
We reluctantly left Osaka for Hakone today. Very sad to go but onwards to the next adventure. Took the shinkansen to Odawara and then the Hakone Tozan Train to Gora. Checked into our Ryokan and relaxed in the Onsen for a few hours.
Went for a walk around Gora and had dinner at the Ryokan before watching Predator in bed.
Steps: 16,926
Day 19
Today we did the Hakone Loop, starting early in Gora.
Started with the Open-air museum and it was great. We loved the installation and ended up spending 3 hours slowly making our way round. Got some cool photos as well for the gram.
Ropeway to Lake Ashi. This was absolutely terrifying. You have to swap cable cars 3 times on the way over and the warnings of the service being suspended due to the wind was announced at each stop. I’m not going to ruin the surprise, but one section made me literally freeze in terror due to the winds outside so try to do it on a calm weather day.
We then took the pirate boat (bit underwhelming) across the Lake and stopped for some soba noodles and a wander around. Unfortunately it was way too cloudy to even get a chance at seeing Mt Fuji.
Train to Kamakura and checked into our super cute traditional hostel near the beach.
Dinner at an Izakaya from the hostel owners recommendation. Food great and beers slipped down a treat. First time I tried Yuzu Kosho as well – I’m now addicted to the stuff and literally cover all my food with it.
Steps: 19,512
Day 20
A slow start to the morning. Weather was pretty bad but we still managed to hit all the main sights in Kamakura. Big Buddha was a refreshing sight from the temples. Did some shopping up Komachi Dori. Highlight of the day was Hukokaji temple. It was so peaceful and zen in the rain with its very own matcha tea ceremony backdropped by bamboo forest. This turned out to be our second favourite temple/shrine we visited, just being beaten by Kodaji.
In the evening we went for Sushi at a conveyor belt place. Figured this would probably be my last Japanese sushi of the trip so devoured 7000 yen worth of sushi and beer. Went back to the hostel and invited some of the other guests to drink with us. The owner of the hostel had some bayberry homebrew, so we got stuck into that.
Steps: 20,494
Day 21
Enoshima Island is just a 25 min train from Kamakura. Started off the day by walking to the top of the island to get French toast and a beer with a lovely view across the bay. We then headed up the Sea candle to check out the observation deck, still the illusive Mt Fuji hides behind the clouds.
We then bought admission to the caves beneath the island which was pretty cool. I won’t ruin the surprise but there’s something waiting for you at the end of one of the caves.
Had an explore around the rockpools near the caves and took some cool photos. We then had a pizza with fish on which was pretty crazy. Walked around the island a little bit more and I picked up some more Japanese denim which wasn’t the cheapest but the quality of the trousers are great and will last me a lifetime.
Back to Tokyo in the evening.
Went for Izakaya around Asakusa and popped into a couple bars. One was called Not Suspicious and the whole bar was covered in handwritten notes by patrons. Very touristy but quite cool at the same time. Our favourite was a drawing of Mario saying It’s a Me Muthafucka.
Steps: 25,903
Day 22
First stop was Don Quiojte to pick up some Yuzu Kosho (if you know you know) and weird flavoured KitKats.
Kappabashi Dougu street to purchase a fine Japanese carbon stell Santoku. Honestly in love with this knife so much. The people at the store were very happy to hear exactly what I was looking for and even let me try before you buy on some daikon radish.
While in Asakusa I had to return to the place where I put the best thing in my mouth in Japan. Motenashi Kuroki. Switched it up this time and had their classic Shio ramen plus the duck rice as a side. Honestly this place is amazing, and you have to go there if you have time. They aren’t veggie/pescy friendly so my partner went for one last round of sushi round the corner. We met up at a massage chair parlour and spent 30 mins relaxing in the chairs.
We had a bright idea to watch the sunset one last time so headed over to the rooftop park on a department store in Shibuya. Sipping on an ice cold Kirin, the sun slowly dropped behind the distant mountains and we knew our trip had come to an end. How symbolic.
Flight at 11pm from Haneda.
Steps: 23,187
On reflection:
I honestly think this trip was almost perfect in terms of hitting our interests and travel style. There was a good balance of doing the typical first time visit to Japan sights and activities while still exploring and seeing what we came across in the moment.
It hard to pinpoint exact highlights of the trip as everywhere we visited had so much going for it in different ways. We loved the rugged and trendy vibe to Osaka, and I think this would be the city I would most want to live in for a considerable amount of time (If I had to choose). Miyajima was also stunning and a great overnight trip with the Ryokan experience. We also underestimated how much we would enjoy Kamakura with its laid-back surfer vibe and access to Enoshima Island.
One random memorable moment that has stuck with me was when we landed at Narita airport, we took the limo bus to Shinjuku. As the driver pulled away, all the staff at the station turned and bowed in unison. It felt so special to first observe a culture totally opposite to the one I grew up with and was at this point I knew I had embarked on the trip of a lifetime.
If I could go back and change something I would probably miss out Hakone and do an extra day in one of the major cities. This isn’t because we didn’t enjoy Hakone, but we feel like it’s a place that needs more time to soak in what’s going on around you (plus the weather was bad when we were there). This being said the Open-Air Museum was amazing and we enjoyed it more than the Teamlab botanical gardens so the trip up the mountains was worth it just for that.
So, how much did we spend per person (not inc flights)?
Accommodation - £765pp
Given that we spent a couple nights in Ryokans raising the average price slightly, we were pretty happy with the accommodation costs. We stayed in a mix of private room and shared dorm hostels and pretty much all of them were spot on. Travelling as a couple meant that anywhere with a private room split the price between 2. The only hostel we didn’t like was the one in Hiroshima, there wasn’t anything in particularly wrong with it, there was just a really bad vibe from the owner and other guests.
Transport - £344pp
This includes shinkansen to and from all the major cities as well as our suica top ups for metros and buses. Unless your itinerary is something like 3 days Tokyo, 2 days Osaka 2 days Kyoto then there really isn’t any point getting the JR pass now that the price has increased.
Activities – £280pp
It is hard to give an exact amount for activities and food as 1) I didn’t track what we spent our cash on and 2) my partner and I would take in turns paying for things like temple admission. That being said I’ve allocated 25% of the cash we spent to activities such as temple admission. Activities includes our baseball tickets plus club entries as well as temple and museum admissions etc.
Food – £962pp
As above, its hard to give an exact amount for food. On the whole we tried to eat cheap with possible, especially at the start of our trip. There were a few expensive meals peppered in plus we ate out twice a day towards the end of our trip as we realised we were under budget.
The total is a bit skewed as this includes all the alcohol we bought in bars as well as the konbini trips for beers and cigarettes. I estimate that booze accounts for around a third of the total per person. If you would like to do Japan on a budget, reducing the booze will make a big difference.
Shopping/Souvenirs/Gifts – £607 (just me)
We went hard with the shopping. We didn’t actually receive our checked in luggage until day 19 so we had to buy all new clothes and cosmetics. If this wasn’t the case, then I don’t think I would have spent so much (airline is comping us for the additional clothing bought anyway). I also bought a fairly expensive chef knife and Japanese denim pieces, plus lots of gifts for friends and family. Obviously, this number could theoretically 0 if you are on a serious budget and did no shopping but I really underestimated Japanese shopping, especially thrifting. Also, given our cheap choices when it came to accommodation we could afford to splurge. However just to note my partner spent less than half than I did on shopping.
Total: £2958 (582,628 yen at time of writing)
I kept within my budget of £3000. I definitely got a bit frivolous with the cash in the last few days or so, if being as careful as I was towards the start of the trip, I think the total would be closer to £2500.
Disappointments
Takoyaki. We thought it was going to be all about the octopus but were disappointed with our balls of sloppy goo surrounding tiny chewy pieces of octopus. We tried it twice and couldn’t get behind it. Sorry Takoyaki fans.
Arashiyama. Way too busy, especially around the main station and bamboo grove. If it’s the bamboo you are going to see, then Kodaji is a much better spot.
Dotonburi. Albeit we were there in golden week, and it was pretty busy. However, I get the feeling this area has fallen to the past its golden days title and has become a bit of a cash cow for places selling spiralised potatoes on a stick. The area around Namba park was a better option for us.
Tips
Konbini. Absolute life saver for snacks and drinks on the go. The food quality for a convenience store is higher than most other countries so we had no problem with grabbing a meal from one to help keep within our budget.
Don’t over pack – even though we didn’t get our checked in bags, I still packed light so had plenty of space to bring stuff back. Emirates give you your allowance by weight rather than number of baggage so we could check in additional bags on the way back.
Don’t be scared of hostels. If you don’t want to brave the shared dorms, then most hostels offer private rooms with just the shower and toilet shared. Obviously, it’s cheaper if there are two people sharing a room.
Don’t stress about cash. Most places take debit/credit card and if they don’t, you’re never more than 5 minutes from a konbini ATM.
For us, golden week didn’t seem that big of an issue. No problems booking shinkansen around GW. We spent most of GW in Osaka, as such it was going to be busy anyway so maybe we didn’t see much of a difference from normal numbers in the spring.