Today, I want to delve into a topic that's close to my heart and crucial for any organization: transforming a good team into an exceptional one. This transformation doesn’t just happen overnight. It’s a journey—one that requires insight, intention, and a willingness to evolve as a leader.
The Essence of Team Transformation
The difference between a good team and an exceptional one lies not in the skills or the effort but in the synergy and cohesion they exhibit. It’s about how individuals with diverse strengths come together, driven by a shared vision and led by a leader who can harness these strengths towards collective success.
The Leader’s Role: Beyond Management
As leaders, our role extends beyond managing tasks and outcomes. It's about creating a culture where every team member feels valued, understood, and aligned with the team’s goals. This involves:
Identifying Individual Strengths: Recognizing the unique strengths of each team member and finding ways to leverage these for the team's benefit. Fostering a Culture of Accountability and Feedback: Establishing a team environment where accountability is embraced and feedback is viewed as a tool for growth, not criticism. Implementing Forward-Looking Feedback: Try initiating "growth-focused feedback" sessions that concentrate on future improvements rather than dwelling on past mistakes. Practical Steps to Get Started
Weekly Growth Sessions: Start by dedicating time each week to discuss future goals, not just to review what went wrong. This shifts the focus from past failures to future possibilities. Strength-Based Assignments: Assign tasks based on individual strengths rather than availability. This not only boosts efficiency but also morale, as team members feel more engaged and valued. Open Dialogue: Encourage open and honest communication. Ensure that team members feel safe to express their thoughts, ideas, and concerns. Why Coaching Matters
The journey from good to great is not a solo endeavor. It's a collaborative effort that benefits greatly from coaching. A coach can offer a fresh perspective, helping leaders to see beyond their blind spots and to unlock the full potential of their team.
Your Turn
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic. What strategies have you implemented to enhance your team's performance? Are there particular challenges you’ve faced in trying to foster a culture of excellence and accountability within your team?
Let’s grow together. If you're exploring ways to elevate your team and leadership style, remember, I'm here to help. Reach out if you're interested in coaching or if you have questions about building a high-performing team.
TL;DR: Transforming a good team into an exceptional one requires more than just hard work and talent; it demands strategic leadership that recognizes individual strengths, fosters a culture of accountability and feedback, and embraces the transformative power of coaching.
Feel free to share your experiences, challenges, and successes in the comments below. Let’s build a community of leaders who support and inspire one another.

I live in the Kettering area, and I grew up in the corn fields of Darke County. Dayton used to be such a powerhouse for the country, but driving through downtown today all I see is empty buildings and fast food (big generalization I know). I’m interested in spending my free time in doing what it takes as a community member to build this area back up, because we have so much to offer. I think it’s sad that our legacy among other cities in the state is we’re “the dirty D”.
What do you guys think would be a good use of my time as an individual with very little public sway to try and help make the city better?

A new Camp and Chill Event starts today!
This 2 day event will run from Tuesday, May 14 until 19:00 GMT Thursday, May 16, and is open to all players with version 11.3.0 or above, a minimum of 250 dragon power, and a stable and reliable internet connection.
Points are earned by tapping items, opening chests, and other simple tasks completed in Camp. The Event Capsule Store appears after earning 500 points; free Bronze Capsules containing Event Points can be collected every 3 hours after that.
Please keep questions and strategy discussions about the event in this thread while it is live; good luck and happy merging!
 

ANNOUNCEMENTS:

Event Notes

• So far, all seems normal

Elsewhere in the Game

• Some issues affecting gameplay have been reported with version 11.4.0; that release has been paused while the programmers sort out a fix. (Link)
• As of May 1, Game Management will no longer give advance notice of Shiny Days mini-events. Odds are we’ll still get one every week or every other week, with the most frequent dates being the gap days between bigger events — so Mondays or Thursdays are most likely for now, at the usual 19:00 GMT start time.
• A new mini-event called “Race Event” is out for beta-testing to a small number of players; it’s described as a player-vs-player competition. (Link 1, Link 2)
• Popular Links:
  • Dens List
  • Friend Tag Exchange
  • 2024 Event Schedule

 

EVENT PRIZES

1. Sprouting Dragon Tree, lvl 2 - requires earning 70 points
2. Prism Flower Buds, lvl 2 - 1,290p
3. Blue Belly Shrooms, lvl 5 - 1,840p
4. Daily Chest (Super Egg Fragment) - 3,190p
5. Watering Hole, lvl 5 - 4,790p
6. Aged Glowing Dragon Tree, lvl 4 - 6,420p
7. Nice Zen Temple, lvl 3 - 7,990p
8. Golden Sapling, lvl 2 - 9,610p
9. SECONDARY Dragon Kid, lvl 2 - 11,210p
10. PRIMARY Dragon Kid, lvl 2 - 13,590p

Total to collect all prizes: 60,000 points
 

STRATEGY TIPS

This is the only type of event where point producing items can be stockpiled ahead of time; for info and links to guides on bubbling as a storage option, please visit the Community FAQ.
The following are the most efficient or most frequently recommended ways to earn points:

• Tier 2 Nests of most breeds yield 900 points per tap, for a total of 3,600 to 6,300 points per nest.
• High level Goal Stars are an excellent source of points; the exact number of taps available varies by level and random chance.
  • L6 Star- 1056, L5 Star- 330, L4 Star- 99
• Level 2 Materials Chests offer unlimited quick and easy points; stockpiling stone bricks gives more flexibility than buying specific chests ahead of time:
  • Spectral Chest- 1305, Summoned Chest- 820, Chest of Beasts- 300, Solid Gold Chest- 80, Phobos Chest- 40
• Higher level free chests all yield well:
  • Treasure: L7- 1690, L6- 530, L5- 165
  • Grimm: L4- 792, L3- 240, L2- 72
  • Season: L4- 330, L3- 100
  • Bountiful (Level) Chests- 150
  • Kala’s Rucksacks- 250
• High level Life Trees can be harvested for quick points:
  • Life Orbs: L9- 1560, L8- 500, L7- 160
• These chains recharge fast and give unlimited taps; note that multiple mid-level items may earn more than one or two higher-level items.
  • Fruit Trees: L10 Watermelon- 34, L9 Pineapple- 30, L8 Dragon Fruit- 26, L7 Pear- 23
  • Prism Flowers: L7- 42, L6- 36, L5- 29, L4- 23
  • Midas Trees: L11- 145, L10- 135, L9- 125, L8- 115, L7- 105, L6- 95, L5- 85, L4- 75, L3- 65, L2- 55
  • Bushes: L5- 35, L4- 25, L3- 15
  • Graves: L8- 75, L7- 65, L6- 55, L5- 45, L4- 35
  • Fountains: L6- 136, L5- 105, L4- 75, L3- 45

 

ITEM POINTS

(Tap the name of the chain to go to its wiki page)
Alien Obelisks (Requires cash purchase)

• Alien Obelisk - 45
• Radioactive Alien Obelisk - 135
• Pulsing Alien Obelisk - 450
• Galactic Alien Megalith - 1485

 
Bushes

• Tiny Cabin - 10
• L1 Shrub Sprout - 1
• L2 Budding Shrub - 5
• L3 Nice Shrub - 15
• L4 Flowering Shrub - 25
• L5 Gorgeous Shrub - 35

 
Fruit Trees

• L4 Grape Tree - 10
• L5 Raspberry Tree - 14
• L6 Banana Tree - 18
• L7 Pear Tree - 23
• L8 Dragon Fruit Tree - 26
• L9 Pineapple Tree - 30
• L10 Watermelon Tree - 34

 
Goal Stars and Dragon Stars (points per tap)

• L1 Star - 3 (2-3 taps)
• L2 Star - 9 (2-3 taps)
• L3 Star - 30 (3-4 taps)
• L4 Star - 99 (3-4 taps)
• L5 Star - 330 (3-4 taps)
• L6 Star - 1056 (6-7 taps)
• L1 Dragon Star - 30 (2-4 taps)
• L2 Magnificent Dragon - 90 (7-11 taps)

 
Graves

• L4 Doom Cross - 35
• L5 Fiend’s Resting Place - 45
• L6 Tomb of the Innocent - 55
• L7 Tomb of the Forgiven - 65
• L8 Tomb of the Righteous - 75

 
Life Orbs (single tap)

• L0 Life Essence - 1
• L1 Tiny Life Orb - 1
• L2 Small Life Orb - 2
• L3 Life Orb - 3
• L4 Furious Life Orb - 5
• L5 Wondrous Life Orb - 15
• L6 Great Life Orb - 50
• L7 Giant Life Orb - 160
• L8 Life Orb of Souls - 500
• L9 The Life Orb of Heavens - 1560

 
Midas Trees

• L2 Golden Sapling - 55
• L3 Golden Tree - 65
• L4 Midas Tree - 75
• L5 Glowing Midas Tree - 85
• L6 The Orb Holder - 95
• L7 The Crystal Catcher - 105
• L8 The Moon Bearer - 115
• L9 The Star Mother - 125
• L10 Greater Midas Tree - 135
• L11 Divine Midas Tree - 145

 
MonsteMythical Idols (single tap)

• L1 Kattryx - 3
• L2 Guardian Sphinx - 9
• L3 Young Cerberus - 30
• L4 Noble Gryphon - 99
• L5 Mythical Ogopogo - 330
• L1 Gromblin - 5
• L2 Capricorn - 15
• L3 Dragon Idol - 50
• L4 Rising Phoenix - 165
• L5 Mythical Pegasus - 550

 
Mystic Topiaries (single use only, number of taps depends on level)

• L1 Bunny - 10 (1x tap)
• L2 Bear - 90 (1x tap)
• L3 Rex - 150 (2x taps)
• L4 Swan - 250 (3x taps)
• L5 Seahorse - 550 (5x taps)
• L6 Dolphin - 880 (10x taps)

 
Nests/Eggs

• Tier 1 nest - 20 per tap, 60 to 140 total
• Tier 2 nest - 900 per tap, 3,600 to 6,300 total (except for Star Dragons)
• Mystery Egg Nests - 10 per tap, 40 to 70 total
• Supernest - 20 per tap
• Meganest - 20 per tap
• Ultranest - 20 per tap
• Shimmering Ultranest - 20 per tap
• Activated Super Eggs - 600 (30 per dragon)

 
Prism Flowers

• L1 Sprouting Prism Flower - 3
• L2 Prism Flower Buds - 10
• L3 Opening Prism Flowers - 16
• L4 Prism Flowers - 23
• L5 Blossoming Prism Flowers - 29
• L6 Gorgeous Prism Flowers - 36
• L7 Brilliant Prism Flowers - 42
• L8 Spectral Prism Flowers - 49
• L9 Glowing Prism Flowers - 55

 
ShimmeSecret Fountains (per tap)

• L1 Fountain of Legend - 3
• L2 Ancient Spring - 15
• L3 Shimmering Spring - 45
• L4 Fountain of Faith - 75
• L5 Fountain of Rebirth - 105
• L6 Heroic Dragon Spa - 135
• L1 Secret Lifespring - 30
• L2 Spectral Lifespring - 150

 
Coin Vaults and Stone Yards

• L1 Tattered - 1
• L2 Basic - 5
• L3 Nice - 15
• L4 Great - 25
• L5 Opulent - 35
• L6 Mythical - 45
• L7 Gigantic - 55
• L8 Bottomless - 65

 
Chests (single tap only)

• Treasure Chests
  • L1 Ordinary Chest - 2
  • L2 Nice Chest - 5
  • L3 Chained Chest - 15
  • L4 Sunken Chest - 50
  • L5 Noble Chest - 165
  • L6 Glowing Chest - 530
  • L7 Giant Treasure Chest - 1690
• Grimm Chests
  • L1 Grimm Chest - 24
  • L2 Grimm Chest of Decay - 72
  • L3 Grimm Chest of Despair - 240
  • L4 Grimm Chest of Suffering - 792
• Season Chests
  • L1 Little Seasons chest - 10
  • L2 Big Seasons chest - 30
  • L3 Great Seasons chest - 100
  • L4 Magnificent Seasons chest - 330
• Materials Chests
  • Moon/Phobos Chests - 10/40
  • Golden/Solid Gold Chests - 25/80
  • Dangerous Chest/Chest of Beasts - 100/300
  • Occult/Summoned Chest - 270/820
  • Pearlescent/Spectral Chest - 435/1305
• Dragon Chests Note: Points depend on chest contents
  • Egg Chests - 30 to 80
  • Radiant Egg Chests - 80 to 120
  • Nest Vault - 150 to 200
  • Huge Nest Vault - 400 to 500
• Super Nest Vault - 500
• Mega Nest Vault - 2500
• Ultra Nest Vault - 5000 (limited availability)
• Kala’s Rucksacks - 250
• Daily Chest (Super Egg Fragment) - 150
• Bountiful (aka Level or Timed) Chests - 150
• Chest of Stones - 10
• Chest of Nightstones - 50

 
Camp and Chill Event Items

• Capsules - 0
• Pile of Camp Event Points - 5
• Great Rucksack of Event Points - 10 per tap, 20+ total
• Wondrous Chest of Event Points - 25 per tap, 125+ total
• Mythical Coffer of Event Points - 50 per tap, 450+ total

 
Miscellaneous Items

• Life Flower Seeds - 3
• Rain Clouds - 5
• Cloudy Summit - 11
• Misty Mountain - 35
• Ancient Dragon Skull - 5
• Unearthed Skeleton (aka Bone Pile) - 5
• Most Wonders - 100 per tap, totals vary
• Legendary Glowing Tree - 1087 per tap
• Shangri-La - 200
• The Last Relic Artefact - 330
• Mystic Lantern - 35 per tap, 105 total
• Totems (all) - 20 per tap
• Pile of Riches - 3 per tap
• Mound of Rich Stuff - 15 per tap
• Heap of Glimmering Riches - 45 per tap
• Mountain of Wild Riches - 75 per tap
• Evil Fog - 20 per section unlocked
• Dimensional Jars - varies based on the object
• Event Trophies - 25
  • Spawned items also give 25 points (both L1 and L2)
  • Exceptions: Pomegranate, Temple, and the Enormous Lucky Coins do not give points, nor do their tappables

 
Combo Merges Note: this is a partial list — most chains seem to work, with points increasing by item levels and length of chain.

• Coins - 5, 10, 30, 60 (started with L2)
• Life Flowers - 5, 10, 15, 20, 40 (start w/L1)
• Life Flowers - 15, 40 (started w/L5)
• Life Orbs - 5, 10, 15, 20, 40 (Started w/ heart)
• Life Orbs - 5, 20, 45, 80 (started w/ L3)
• Living Stones - 5, 10, 15, 40 (start w/fresh stones)
• Stone bricks - 5, 10, 15, 40, 60 (start w/L1)

 
No Points Given

• Currency (Coins, Stone Bricks, and Gems)
• Loot orbs
• Dimension Jars
• Dragon Homes
• Haunted Houses
• Boutique exclusive chains
• Lobelia Topiaries
• Ornate/Jeweled Statues
• Small Fluffs
• Chocolate Fountain chain
• Dust Bunny Crates
• Weekly Den Chests
• Opulent Chests
• Season Bonus Chests
• Star Chests
• Star Dragon T2 nests
• New items and anything in limited release for beta testing

 

EVENT TROUBLESHOOTING

If the event is not showing up correctly or if glitches are affecting your play:

1. Check that you meet the version and dragon power requirements.
2. Try hard-closing and then relaunching your game.
3. Try rebooting your device (ie, turn it completely off, then back on and allow it to fully boot up before relaunching the game). If you are on wifi and have access to the router, try rebooting that, too.
4. Try switching to a completely different internet source.
5. Try clearing your game’s cache (google for instructions for your specific phone type).
6. If you’re suddenly experiencing multiple issues like lagging or error messages (or if the event vanishes completely), close the game and try again after 2-3 hours. Events are internet-based, and sometimes issues with the servers can cause temporary problems — all we can do for that is to wait it out.
7. If none of the above helps, contact Gram Games Support through the in-game link or the Support Web Portal for help figuring out what’s wrong.

• NOTE: Cloud Save is still unreliable: according to the developer, it is not safe to be used and should be left turned off.
• NOTE: Saving your Progress: Make sure to save your progress by traveling to the World Map screen (and waiting there until everything’s fully loaded) regularly, and especially before closing your game.

 
Edits are ongoing

(sorry this is long, I just started and couldn’t stop)
I'm a 57F professional working as a Contracts Specialist for a large Tech Company. I discovered I have total Aphantasia about 2 months ago. I hate saying it that way, I "have" Aphantasia. It sounds like a disease or something. Still working on a way to word that when I share this with people who have never heard of it.
I have spent the months doing as much reading and self-searching as possible. I immediately felt relief when I discovered what Aphantasia is and have never had the feeling that I am missing out by not seeing the images, but I can sure understand why some would feel that way. For me it was the answer to questions I have been asking myself all my life. I just found out "I'm not crazy" AND "I'm not alone". I've never posted anything like this before, but when I joined, reading things like this from others when they first find out they are an Aphant was very helpful.
Some things I have thought about since learning this about myself.
Psychology Profession and Memory Loss - I have known I have a bad memory since I was a kid, I never understood why I couldn't remember things until someone "triggered" the memory. Once triggered, I can remember things fairly well. As many young adults, I had some issues adjusting to college life and chose to seek help with a professional. This was my first experience with being told I must be repressing a traumatic experience from my childhood. We spent many months/years and many tears trying to determine what that could be. Now I should add I was abused as a child and had remembered and dealt with that. My parents ended up shipping me off to my Grandparents to get away from her influence. But answer me this, if I remembered it and dealt with it and no longer had negative consequences from it, why didn’t my memory get better? Over the years I have seen a couple other therapists that wanted to concentrate on repressed memories because of my memory. I went along for a while but finally became convinced that there were no other memories to find. But that profession took a lot of my money, time and emotional wellbeing - yet nothing was ever discovered. I doubted people in my life that I never should have. Now I believe Aphantasia should be a part of all professional training for mental health wellness. I'm old, so maybe it is now??
Fake Memories - After experiencing this kind of high pressure "therapy" I can totally understand how people create fake memories. So many thoughts and details were provided during these sessions, I could have easily started to "make" things up and that leads to believing it happened in that environment. As a woman, I am always looking to please people, I tried to please my therapists. Aphantasia or not, false memories are not as hard to plant as you might think especially when that person is trying to make you happy.
Being Present - This has been a big thing the last few years. People pushing for you to be present in your life. Professionals have also mentioned that my memory issues may be due to the fact that I have never "been present" in my life. It took a few sessions to understand what the hell they meant and then spent much time trying to "be present" and I the only thing I determined is that I have always "been present" as best I can! I stopped going to therapists after this one.
Objects & Memories - I now understand why I have been holding on to things that most people would have let go of by now. For instance I have a large stuffed animal collection and have always told my husband I could not get rid of any of them as each one is a trigger for a good memory. I am afraid if I get rid of it, that memory will be lost forever. If the memory really does go away, then I can get rid of that object. If there is no memory trigger, it's pretty easy to let go. Same with taking photos, I have a better understanding of why I always had my camera out. Without a picture, did it really happen? Not in my memory!
Deep Connections - Aphantasia may be a factor in my perception as to why I cannot make deep connections with people. Because my brain does not pepper me with visions and thoughts of loved ones, I don't think about other people very often. I don't know what people mean when they say "I miss you". I truly am an OUT OF SIGHT OUT OF MIND lifer. When I have expressed to others that I feel that way, I have been told they feel a deep connection and don't know what I would mean by deeper. Now I believe since I don't think about others often, I've just convinced myself over the years that my feelings must not be deep. If it were deep, wouldn’t I be on their minds like I am on theirs? I am starting to understand things a bit differently now, I love and care DEEPLY for the people in my life, I'm just not triggered to remember them.
Learning/Training - I have always had issues with classroom learning. I have trouble concentrating on what is being presented unless there is some kind of hands-on activity associated with the training. I recently moved to a new position at work, I used to be a corporate trainer. To start my new position there was a large learning curve. I found when someone one told me something about the job I needed to see it or even better perform the task myself. That is not always available in training situations. It has taken a while to get up to speed in this position and I was doing a great job of beating myself up about not catching on quickly. I must be getting old, I thought. I was usually frustrated as a trainer when I had to train people my age, they just didn't seem to "get it" when others did. Well here's my payback, now I have to learn and I'm the one not "getting it". I do really wish I had known about Aphantasia/Hypophantasia/Hyperphantasia while I was a trainer. I think about all the improvements I could make on the material if I knew how the student's memory worked. I never really used much visual assistance, other than performing the task in front of them, and now I think that would have been helpful for "normal" memory types. The good thing about my memory is that once I understand WHY something is done, I've got it, it's in the vault. I actually do better than most others once that lightbulb goes off. Sometimes it just takes a while to really have that understanding. I am very detail oriented and technical; I can pick up computer operating systems quickly, they make sense.
Face/People Recognition - I have a hard time identifying characters in a movie, especially if they are wearing similar clothing or haricuts. I even have difficulty remembering my waitperson after talking to them directly. I usually remember if they were Female or Male, but not always. If I need something from them, I am awful at locating my wait person. I usually end up asking some random employee. Once I am familiar with the person, I will recognize them, but there has to be some kind of connection made. This has proven to cause quite a bit of embarrassment when I run into someone I have met and have zero recollection of who they are or where I met them. Unfortunately, this has happened more than a handful of times. It makes the other person feel bad and that's the last thing I want to do.
Another thing I noticed that I believe fits in this section, is how people can imitate others. I now understand how they can do that; they actually have a mental image of that person doing something. They can see them moving, hear them talking and then interpret that to an imitation. That was one of the many lightbulbs that went off in my head while researching Aphantasia. I mean how does someone tell a sketch artist what someone looked like after a crime? Not only face blindness but adrenaline flowing as well. But some people can remember down to the angle of their eyes and shape of the mouth. That has always been such a mystery to me, how can people do that? Now I understand, they actually SEE the face.
Processing Information - One thing I have been wondering is if Aphantasia has anything to do with how fast my brain processes information on the regular. I have been called a fast thinker when I come to a conclusion quickly and process what is in front of me quicker than others. I notice this when playing games, learning and putting things together during a conversation. I have the ability to see the big picture which allows me to put things in place and make decisions quickly. It drives me crazy when it takes my mom 5 mins to make a move in a game. I can understand that a bit better now, so learning this about myself has also helped me understand others. Others have all kinds of images they are needing to process to decide. And after sharing my findings with my family I have determined that my mom is a Hyperphantasic. Her memory is amazing, she remembers everything from her childhood from 4yrs on. I've always been jealous of that kind of memory.
I even understand how Chess works and what they mean by look ahead 5 moves.
Psychedelics - In the Aphantasia community, I have FINALLY found kindred spirits when it comes to experimenting with certain drugs. Aspirin, Antihistamines, pain killers and other prescribed drugs work just fine. But when I have taken any illicit psychedelics, nothing happens. The first time I noticed I was not as affected as others was in college. I just figured everyone else was really exaggerating and I wasn't interested in trying again. But I have since tried experimenting again with my husband who has gotten into Microdosing. We thought it would be interesting to take a recreational dose. He had an awesome time with lots of visuals and motion. For me, nothing. I could make the grass or a picture on the wall get "movement" but nothing like what he was experiencing. Decided to try again, this time with my sister and husband. I took a double dose this time just to make sure I would feel something. Nope, nothing. I have tried up to 10g at a time with nothing (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME, DONE BY A PROFESSIONAL). I have never heard of anyone else having this kind of experience until I joined this group. There have been several people indicate they have similar experiences including one who even called out that they don't feel anything more than a minor wavey feeling.
Now I think it is probably for the same reason we don't have a "minds eye". Some synapses somewhere are not sparking normally. I do believe for some Aphants, this does actually lead to some visual or other sensory experiences they have not had before. But for some of us, we don't have the ability to "Trip". This is probably the only thing I have found that I don't like about Aphantasia. I have been able to put a positive spin on most of what I have found, but I do wish I could experience that feeling others have while taking a "Trip".
Where do you see yourself in 10 years? – This is a question that I have had to answer many times in my career, it is one of the favorite questions asked during an interview. I’ve never been good at answering that question. Others would provide great details on where they see themselves going, but I have never had the ability to look that far ahead. I don’t see myself anywhere specifically, I tend to follow the opportunities that come my way.
In conclusion (yes finally almost done) I've gone 57 years telling myself I can improve my memory, "I'll remember that if I really think hard" but I never do. Or I try to make sure I am "Present" so I can remember, nope, doesn’t help either. Now that I have an answer that explains my brain is acting differently than most people, I don't kid myself anymore. I'm just not going to remember and that's OK, that's how my brain works and part of who I am. There is nothing I can do about it, no more wasted time working on my memory!!
I can honestly say I am grateful to learn about this memory process and for the ability to move on from difficult situations. There are many more things I could get into, but that would be an even bigger book. My sister can get stuck on something that is difficult for her to get past, the images of bad things “haunt” her. For me, as soon as the actual event is over, it may take a few days depending on the severity, it is buried and does not "pop in" and bring me back. If only I had known this when I was younger, I can only imagine what I could have accomplished! I imagine my self-doubt/hate could have been less with this information as well as the therapist bills that could have been saved. This is such important knowledge, I am so happy to see research being done!! I only hope the information continues to spread so more people are aware. I don’t know if all the things above are in direct relation to Aphantasia, but my eyes have been open to these differences.

An insight into my weird life: I was let go from my previous job, only for my then manager while on the same phone call, lined me up with my current Job because he really likes me and my work ethic. This brand new job is a dream (on paper), with a management position and pays six figures with good benefits for a great company and I report directly to the president, who hired me and believes I can take the company to the next level. My problem(s), I absolutely don't understand any of what's going on, no idea about the product, nor is there any training structure or records left by the previous guy. I literally come to work everyday to feel absolutely useless around coworkers who are very knowledgeable, on the other hand everyone here welcomed me and respects my previous experience. This brothers me because I like to add value to everything I'm involved in. I honestly feel the imposter syndrome. Is it just too early? I have turned down several other offers since I started here a few weeks ago but I don't know what to think anymore.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

Hi guys, I am new into kettlebells. I’m 25, 193cm (6’3 ish I guess) and 88kg (195lbs). I am generally speaking in a decent shape. I make around 8,5-9k steps daily. Before pandemic I used to weight 65kg (143lbs). During lockdown I trained with barbells and dumbbells for like 6-7 months and got to 82kg (180lbs). Then I went back to Uni where I couldn’t continue due to lockdown etc. I’ve never got back to that regularity bar summer holidays at home (so 2 months tops), cause I’ve always been weirdly anxious about public gyms. I picked up different hobbies like MMA or running but couldn’t stick to it because I didn’t like it or injuries etc. This year I decided to give a gym another chance and I’ve been fairly consistent doing 2-4 FBW training per week. I gained 4kg (9lbs) since January and I am in a decent shape for my standards. Obv my PRs aren’t impressive. BP 45kg (started with 25) / DL 55kg (started with 30) / Squat 50kg (started with 25) done in 4 series 10-12 reps. So there was some constant progress and challenge.
During a bank holiday 2 weeks ago I went home but wasn’t super keen on doing FBWs, so I decided to do some swings (100 in 10 series EMOM) and push-ups, cause I’ve seen some videos about it being king of excercises. It took me arround 20 minutes and I felt very fresh and energized after, probably thanks to aerobic effect of the training. So I decided to give it a go thanks to being really simple and short. I am a med student so time is of an essence. Here I am 3rd week, after 10th session. Started with 8kg quickly moved to 12kg and then after 1 session to 16 which seems to be optimal for now (although it becomes weirdly lighter form session to session). For first 8 I did 10min EMOM and 60-70 push ups divided into 3-4 sets, but last 2 sessions I did some routine from YT: 10 swings on 0:00, 3:00, 6:00 etc. 10 push ups, on 1:30, 4:30, 7:30 etc. 100 swings and 100 push-ups total in 30 mins. Whereas first one was hard today’s was easier, so I think maybe I will do this EMOM method, but I am kind of lost.
I feel like for those 3 weeks I’ve neglected upper body with biceps and shoulders especially. I thought about starting ABC method and I’ve even did some cleans and presses (12kg) from dead weight (without hinge) and felt biceps and shoulders afterwards but I don’t know if it is right moment to do that in a proper way. I saw a video of some guy named Mark Wildman who said KBs are the way to go BUT you should work on swings for year or two before moving to other motions. I don’t know if I misunderstood or maybe it was some marketing stint for his programs but it seems odd to be honest.
So here is my question. What would you guys suggest to work on? 3-4 times ~30-40 min. I don’t care about bodybuilder physique but it would be nice to have proportional body and whereas my legs look more defined my upper body (maybe besides back) looks worse. And what about chest? I’be seen a lot of you guys here to have great physique of healthy and athletic person not necessarily body builders. And this is what I am trying to achieve. Obviously I am aware that is a long process but I am looking for guindance. I think it is good activity for me because eventually I can move entirely to my apartment instead of paying membership and wasting time for commmuting.

I talk to the wind about you. I talk to the trees. I do not write to you. Evasive on purpose. You have not seen me, heard my voice, or read my words because it has been too many hours. I missed the chance then, if that’s what that was. If, by some miracle, there are chances still being afforded to me now, I’m missing them too.
It meant something, however small - I learned that too late. I was looking at you too closely, studying your details to commit them to memory. I missed the big picture, couldn’t see it until time ran out.
You’re like me, except something tells me you realized before I did. Have you felt this longer than I have? It’s been over 200 days for me. If you’re like me, and I’m convinced you are, then you’ve been trying to look alive, keep your head up, do well, bury this, so what good would my words do now?
Do not misunderstand - I didn’t disappear, seemingly without a trace, because I don’t want to see you. I remain gone because I think my presence would be the equivalent of taking a seam ripper to you. If you’ve been trying, like I have, to carry on, then it’s better this way.
What if my goods are too damaged to be a pillar of strength for you? What if my baggage is too heavy? What if, what if - I know, but is the potential temporary delight ultimately worth an even worse torment, like an injury over scar tissue? I read that back and know that that’s what every partnership is - deciding to brave the potential heartache for a chance at something together. I want that with you. I would let you break my heart, but I worry that asserting that desire will cause an undue amount of harm to you in the end.
And what if I’m wrong? What if it didn’t mean even a modicum of a speck of anything for you? I don’t see how my words would do any good there, either. So, what do I do with them? Nothing.
I wish there was a way to figure it out without asking directly, on the off chance that it would cause more hurt than healing to hear from me. It’s not about your answer - I’m afraid I know exactly what it would be - it’s about the impact that my resurrection in your world might have. It’s about the prospect that I might break your heart, even though I’d let you break mine a thousand times, even though I’ve broken it myself over and over for weeks.
If I’m right, if I’m wrong - either way, this ends badly. The seconds trickle on and the words keep bubbling to the surface, spilling over, unable to be caught or stopped. I think I finally wrote exactly what I feel this time. I talk to the wind. I talk to the trees. I do not write to you.

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

I know some people are probably tired of talking about Baby Reindeer, but I just finished it, and it reminded me a lot about myself. I continued dating a guy after he raped me because I was scared of being lonely while I was abroad. I accompanied my other rapist to the ER after he convinced himself that I gave him herpes after he raped me. Idk why I did that. I have no reasoning other than I was on autopilot/survival mode and was just trying to get through the rest of the week until he left. Is it logical? No, not at all. I feel embarrassed telling those stories because I didn't run away immediately and call the cops like a perfect victim would. That does not take away the fact that I said no, and they still raped me.
I say all of this because I was on YouTube trying to find videos of Richard Gadd's one man show, and a lot of the comments on those videos and on videos about the stalker were saying how they didn't like Richard in the show because him playing himself shows that he's egotistical and probably lying for attention. They said they don't believe him and that things didn't add up because why would he continually go back to his abuser(s). How fucking hard is it to listen to someone tell their story and just believe them?? Why are people so quick to dismiss the stories of survivors just because they made "mistakes" or just did things that don't make sense to most people?? I cannot stand how people try to pretend like "well, that doesn't fit with how I view the world; therefore, it must be a lie." Just because something is not your own lived experience does not make it fake. It's just so infuriating that victims of SA are so rarely believed by the public, and people have the gall to give out their opinions. Who the fuck gave these people the right to delegitimize another person's experiences? MY TRAUMA IS NOT UP TO DEBATE WHAT THE FUCK.
Idk what I'm trying to achieve with posting this. I just needed to rant I guess.
Hope everyone has a good day.

So I've got about 150 hours in the game (my first soulslike btw), and I kinda fell in love with Gael. His whole design is great, fighting against another warrior like yourself instead of a giant dragon or a living tree has a completely different feeling (for me at least). His attacks are hard, but slowly learning the patterns made every dodge like a little achievement for me, and his attacks in general are, for me personally, also really well thought and varrying. That transition from a lost swordsman to that "magical", powerful being has a different vibe, and from my experience, there wasn't even one attack that I thought was too overpowered, undodgable etc., only the crossbow sucks. The Boss area is perfectly fitting into that "end of the world" theme and not to small for his wide range attacks, Soundtrack is damn good, and I've been recently into dark souls lore, so it really feels like knowing that background of the fight makes that experience even more intensive in a good way, instead of just having to rush another boss (Hope you understand what I mean). So that's my favourite boss in the game, after that probably soul of cinder and nameless king. I'm really interested in what you guys think, what is your favourite boss and why... (There are probably many guys here that have muuuuch more experience than I do, so I'd like to hear your thoughts about that too)

Hey everyone, thank you for reading.
There was originally a much longer version but it became a massive wall of text and perhaps some TMI. Writing it was cathartic though. Anyway:
When I'm single I do lots of great things, want to improve myself so much just to feel alive and good about myself. Solo-mountaineering for example. This came from being 22 and lonely - I developed crushes on girls that were nice to me and I got rejected, or they liked me back but I got overzealous and they realised I was not BF material. One day I just said "Okay I'm never going to have a wife and kids so what do I do instead". But here's the rub, when I work on myself girls do see me as a potential BF. Eventually from 26 onwards I had a few admirers, none of them really stuck long-term. What follows is one common issue among them.
When I'm in a relationship I get put on a pedestal because they see what I've done and think there's more to come. In actuality I end up neglecting what made me attractive to begin with. My happiness derives from her and I become complacent.
My most recent relationship was 5 years, ended a week ago. I wasn't always happy - covid took me out of the mountains for 2 years and I never got back into it. My work stopped and I played video games for 2 years instead. A very disruptive flatmate has moved in and driven me crazy since. This area was a new development 6 years ago so the area went from super quiet to a hotbed of noise from families and construction work. I should have moved out, but I thought saving money was a higher priority. I dislocated my shoulder for the second time and I neglected routine rehab. I lost objects I owned from absent mindedness, blamed other people before realising my dumb mistake. I grew resentful for the distance, and struggled to pay heed to her struggles as it was through a phone/laptop (impersonal) and I felt powerless to help without being physically present.
These factors made me irritable, negative, impatient, accusatory, noise sensitive and overly reactive to anything I perceived as idiotic (and my bar was low). I lost my cool often. The breakup was inevitable, especially as we already had distance hanging over our heads. Once again the usual things were mentioned on top - Lack of ambition, lack of masculinity. Lost respect, can't get it back.
And I'm now approaching 40. I thought I was set when I met this girl, but here we are once again. After doing much reading, I've also come to realise I have avoidant attachment disorder which stifles communication.
There's no doubt that I'll can respond to being single productively, as I've already gone on one trip and many more are planned. Don't me wrong, I am not glad this happened - I am swimming in regrets and feelings of loss, being at home sucks but I will manage. I just came to terms with being perpetually single once, I believe I can do it again. But relationships wise? I dread the whole process of meeting someone and then ultimately losing their respect because I didn't fulfil their expectations. I often feel like I can never meet my own, but I live on knowing I'll never be who I was at 18-21. I just wish I was the same person I was at 29-32.
I am moving out by the way. I was very close to moving to her, but she must have seen the writing on the wall and ended it in advance.
Thanks again.

Just graduated college with my Bachelor in Accounting (no cpa and dont plan to) and I'm expecting an offer letter from the firm I've been interning with all semester (they came to me and told me it's on it's way). I've been researching what a good starting salary is currently for staff accountants in southwestern PA and I've seen that it's around $40-$60k depending on certain factors. I'm not a good negotiator but want to be prepared to do so, and want to know accurate market salaries too.
Anyone have any input on what I should expect? I know that benefits play into this, starting PTO is 18 days I believe and they offer health, dental/vision and 401k or Roth options. Thanks!!

I don’t even know where to start this. I’m at my wit’s end. My husband and I married in November 2017, and separated October 2020. We had a child together in 2016. I would be here all day telling the story (I’m happy to if prompted), but in a nutshell, there was a lot of narcissistic abuse involved and I eventually got to the point that I was so depressed I actively wanted to unalive myself every day and tried to, once (obviously unsuccessfully).
At the time which we separated, we were living two hours away from our hometown so that I could attend a college that I ultimately had to drop out of once we separated because I could not afford to stay there on my own. We could barely afford to live there together. That doesn’t mean much, we could barely afford to live at our hometown either because there was financial abuse involved within that narcissistic abuse that I mentioned before. Upon separation, we both moved back to our hometown, separately. We genuinely went our separate ways with only communication regarding our son, 95% of the time. We even quickly went about finding new partners. There was a lot of aggression on his end after separating and I have hundreds of screenshots of verbal abuse from him in the months following. Neither one of us could afford lawyers, so we were trying to navigate fair custody of our child ourselves to the best of our abilities. For the most part, we did well to split that evenly with some rough patches here and there, usually involving pick up and drop off. Again, because neither one of us could afford a lawyer, this also hindered us actually getting a divorce. Neither one of us really knew how to go about getting a divorce without lawyers involved (and I still don’t) and I think most of his lack of trying was from laziness, and expecting me to do everything in that regard (exactly as the rest of our marriage was).
Worth noting at this point, we were both living in the state of Georgia, not far from the Alabama state line. I eventually (October 2021) found a job in property management across the state line over in Alabama, and was given the opportunity to move to the property for which I worked, with my then partner and his child from a previous marriage. I took this opportunity, which put me about 45 minutes away from my hometown, but still managed to get our son to and from school for the remainder of the school year and we continued to split custody of him evenly throughout the school year and the following summer. At this time I attempted to find a lawyer to start up the divorce process but was told that I have to wait six months of living in the new state before I could do anything, as well as a price tag that was outrageously out of my means. That being said, I didn’t pursue that option.
When the new school year (2022-2023) started, and I enrolled our son into a school in my new state, his father agreed, and we were in a mutual understanding about custody at that point. The understanding being, that on any weekends and school breaks that he wished to spend time with our son, I would happily drive him to 45 minutes over to our hometown for them to spend time together and handle all of the transportation. Since I made the decision to move away, he just had to let me know when he wanted to arrange the visits. These arrangements never happened. The only instances in which he reached out were Father’s Day, Christmas, and Thanksgiving. And chose to only spend an hour to two hours with our son at a time on each of these days. In the past, I did not ask for financial assistance since we split time evenly, however now, since it wasn’t split evenly, he did agree that it would be fair for him to pay some amount of financial assistance in the way of child support. As you can imagine, that also never happened.
In November 2022, I decided that I was not happy with my job choice, and that I wanted to go back to the college that I was at prior to our separation. I waited for my son to finish out his school year, separated from my partner, and moved back to Georgia and found a job and a house that I could afford on my own. I have a new partner (medium distance, he lives in the hometown) now that treats me and my son very good, I make just enough to barely get by if I’m smart with my money and make sacrifices, and I am the happiest I’ve ever been. I’m a full-time college student in a very demanding major (natural resources management with a focus in wildlife management), and a full-time employee working as many hours as I possibly can at a local assisted-living facility. All while being a single mom to the sweetest elementary school aged boy you’ll ever meet. (I know I mentioned having a partner and then turned around and said single mom— my partner and I live two hours apart from each other and I do not ask him for any financial assistance with anything regarding my bills, and we split expenses when we do get to spend time with each other. “Single mom” doesn’t mean “single person”)
All of this to say, since the summer of 2022 ended, my son’s father has seen him a combined total of less than 24 hours. Holidays only. Not even for his birthday, he only got a phone call on the past two birthdays. I have paid for school breakfasts and lunches, summer care programs, afterschool care programs, all of the finances that come with being a parent completely alone since then. He has paid me all of $50, on two occasions for a total of $100, in that time. I haven’t tried the child support office because I am told by his family members that he is constantly getting a new job, and then getting fired from it, he barely pays his extremely low rent already (the house is owned by a family member of his), and there’s no point in waiting to see if it gets taken out of his taxes because he owes on his taxes every year. Truthfully it’s not even about the money, I’m doing just fine paying for our sons expenses, I’m just brokenhearted for him that he doesn’t understand why his father doesn’t want anything to do with him.
The reason I broke down today, is from finding out that he up and moved away from our hometown in the middle of the night to God knows where in Virginia. Apparently with—- HIS FIANCÉ. I just found out they were engaged. I don’t care, I’m happy for them. However, we are still married and around two years ago, we had a conversation over the phone that involved him crying and begging me not to tell her that we weren’t actually divorced yet because he had told her that we /were/ divorced. I have no idea if anything changed in that time, but I don’t even know anything except her first name to even be able to reach out to tell her otherwise? I’m hesitant to reach out anyway because his mother helps me out occasionally and we have a great relationship and I don’t want to put a strain on that. She is disappointed that her son abandoned his son, however, she still has love in her heart for her son.
Now that he has moved, and I have no idea where, just the state, how do I get a divorce? What do I do? Why are lawyers so expensive, I don’t know what to do???

So, I work for a company which I very much like however this job I applied would be an upgrade, job and salary wise. Did the interview, days after HR called to offer me the job. I've tried to negotiate the salary a bit higher, went to speak to the manager which is a very nice person. 1 day after, he agreed with my counter-offer and said that HR would contact me. 2 days gone by, I've let my TL know but since I didnt receive any offer in writing I asked her to leave it between us until then. Yesterday I've enquired him when HR would be in touch, he replied saying would ask them but said it was all set. Today HR called me saying that they'd back down on the raise, I've replied that ok and would still accept the job, then she asked me to call later. 3 hours she called me back and said that they were withdrawing the job offer due to nonsense reasons. Like, I am happy that I still have a good job a and a get along with my superiors and stuff, but this level of disrespect and unprofessionalism I've never seen or hear before, and I come from a third world country. Situation itself making me feel like shit, disrespected and dunno, even wondering if they would ever do this to an irish person. Or this is like standard around here? Cuz whem I come from, negotiating a job offer is completely normal. Don't know if I should do something, let it be, if I have grounds for a lawsuit or whatever.
TL;DR: accepted a job offer, spoke to manager, he accepted my counter offer after spoken to HR, days after they back down raise and then withdrawn offer.

I’m so embarrassed and ashamed to be writing this but I’m truly panicking. I had an abortion in March of this year I chose not to get the iud they offered as I have a history of bad reactions to birth control (I’ve tried the pill, implant and shot) previous to this pregnancy I used just condoms for over 5 years with no issues. That pregnancy was a result of me allowing a guy to not use a condom as we didn’t have any I thought he would pull out, he didn’t. So I figured if I went back to condoms it would be fine. Well I had sex with I guy I had recently started seeing about 2 weeks ago, we had a few drinks and during the interaction he removed the condom without my knowledge (i realized this the next day after replaying the situation in my mind) now my period is two days late when I’m very regular. I’m horrified at the idea I could be pregnant again as I just went through this. On top of that I don’t have many supportive people in my life and I can’t imagine they would still be supportive if I told them this is happening again. Obviously I have stopped contact with the guy due to his actions and I’m not open to reaching out to him. Has anyone else gone through this? Am I a terrible person? I have no idea what to do

I (24M) am a Production Artist / Designer at a small agency in a mid-sized midwest city. "Small" meaning its me, a creative director (9 years at the agency), a copywriter / accounts person (6 years at the agency), and the president (25 years at the agency), who also does a lot of copywriting and accounts stuff. This is my first official job (not including two years of freelancing). I currently make 45K annually, before deductions. I'm coming up on my one year review in a few days. I talked to the creative director and they assured my that at my review, some sort of raise will be offered. They just didn't tell me how much.
Having done the math, I think I'd like at least a 5% raise. this is for a variety of reasons (home buying, family growth, inflation etc...). This would also shake out to about 47.25K per year or 3937 per month gross, which is just $93 more per paycheck (I'm paid bi-monthly).
Now I know this might be crazy, greedy, naive, entitled etc... Please remember I'm not very educated in what I should expect here. Just trying to get my bearings.
Now for the tricky part. I'm having trouble thinking of negotiating points (for if my boss offers me a raise that's too low) largely because I dont think I'm very remarkable at my job. I show up on time, I do what I'm told, and have it done by the deadlines. I missed a major deadline last year, about three months after starting, and my boss was very upset. however, I have not repeated that mistake. I'm still slower than I'd like at getting tasks done, but no disciplinary action or scolding has taken place. In fact, my boss and teammates say I'm doing well.
I also have serious impostor syndrome and dont think I'm particularly good at my job period.
When I've looked into how to negotiate, many articles I've read say to develop a brag sheet; all the stellar work I've done over the past year. That feels weird to me, since I'm still learning, still make mistakes, and can't really look at a project and say "that was perfect".
That being said, I still want/need the raise.
Am I naive? How do I argue this? Halp!

CANCER ZODIAC TAROT READING - UNEXPECTED INCOME MAY 2024

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ5mIkLhCyY
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Rose Glass directs a pulp movie with veins, a non-random term, fantasy, the ditch is immediately framed which evokes Lou's dark past and the place where his father hides his crimes, with a camera movement we first go into the depth of the ditch which then flow into the starry sky thus playing between low and high, descent and ascent, it is no coincidence that a shooting star is shown from the sky which symbolizes the beginning of the story but also the dreams and desires of Lou and Jackie. Through an alternating montage, the loneliness of both protagonists is shown until their meeting. Lou is a lesbian girl who runs a gym, she hates her father who is involved in illegal weapons trafficking, her mother has disappeared and the only reason she doesn't leave her hometown is because she wants to try to protect her sister Bet. Jackie also has a traumatic family past, she was adopted and dreams of becoming a bodybuilder, a dream not supported by her family. The film is therefore a suburban story, the chemistry between Lou and Jackie works and Rose Glass does not portray its characters as positive. The dynamic is beautiful where Jackie asks Lou to leave together, why Lou has never moved from her city and the following scene shows the two girls are having lunch together with Beth and the latter's boyfriend, J.J. The direction makes it clear that the reason why Lou doesn't move is Bet, wanting to protect her from J.J. who beats her up, in fact Beth is always shown with bruises and wounds, all of which will then also be made explicit both in gestures and words. The love between Lou and Jackie is sincere, the film shows their intimacy, however Lou's family situation will degenerate, involving the two girls and despite the mutual affection of the protagonists, the narrative shows mistakes, Lou still invites Jackie to take steroids to try to make her win the bodybuilder competition and subsequently she will carry out controversial acts and Jackie herself will be guilty of crimes. The competition sequence of the bodybuilder competition is well done, games of focus, the lights that start to move, the depth of field is removed, the suit to sensorially alter the dynamics and Rose Glass is noticeable that it comes from the genre, it has no hesitations in showing surreal touches and moments as he had already done for Saint Maud. The staging is good, there are single shots almost reminiscent of cosmic horror, the dark sky at night is very visible and there is a strong use of the color red which also appears in small details from scene to scene. The red clearly evokes blood, there is no shortage of direct shots totally surrounded by the color red but also moments of almost horror-like violence. The film begins at night just like Jackie's journey, the moments in the car, of movement, are at night and therefore shrouded in darkness as is the story of the two girls, the return from Las Vegas is emblematic, where the race for bodybuilders, where the horizon is totally black. In the finale, the car journey will instead be at dawn to mark the new beginning. The above-mentioned play of perspective between high and low is very present in the film, the shots from above also symbolize the various references to the film's destiny and the shots from below, especially on Jackie, are clues to what will happen, the showing the Gulliver cartoon on television which is a very strong signal for what will happen. In fact, you can also read the film as a sort of birth of anti-heroines, perhaps some will turn up their noses, but personally I appreciate when you dare even in these terms. Yes, it is a film that wants to tell a lot, the relationship between Lou and Jackie, Lou's family dynamic with his sister and father, Jacke's broken dream and not everything is fully centered, even in Saint Maud for example some references to the protagonist's past they were a little fast, just as some moments could have been better managed, for example there is a reaction from Lou's father that is a little too comical. However, the core of the film is spot on, the direction is good as is the narration between Lou and Jackie who are the fulcrum of the film, the final scene with flashes of black comedy that seals the birth of the two anti-heroines, both in fact they fulfill each other's narrative arc, where their actions and reactions, even when excessive and controversial, are well motivated

For context my mom was a single mother of 3 kids. She would have relationships but they never worked out. That being said we all knew all too well what it was like growing up in a broken home. She was always working and barely home and left us to our own devices. (Back before technology) with rules like don’t open the door for anyone and don’t answer the phone, come straight home after school and so on. But more often than not I was the only one that would go straight home.
We often couldn’t afford things but always had food. We always had to meet and deal with the new bf and that would last months to years at best. Sometimes moving in with them just to do a midnight/midday move while they weren’t there. Needless to say but our childhood was very unstable and stressful and lacking in many aspects.
Now to get into it Me and my sister Bebe never really got along. I am younger and we didn’t have common interests. We naturally did our own things and avoided each other when we could. We look a lot alike so people often mistaken us for the other. But personally wise we are nothing alike. We were always compared to the other and it often felt like we were competing with each other. So we were always fighting.
Eventually we both settled down, got our own houses and partners and had kids. We got back in touch when we had kids. We met each other’s families and everything seemed fine. We would trade off babysitting for each other and do different family activities together birthday parties, thanksgiving, Christmas and so on.
Years have passed and the kids are older now. The kids still enjoy seeing each other and playing. Everyone gets along… well almost everyone. My sister always knew how to get under my skin and would say things either “jokingly” or when no one was around say something to hurt me. I knew what she was doing but I would blow it off and act like it didn’t bother me. As time went on it got worse. And a few time someone would say something and she’d just say “it’s a joke.” Or “you know I didn’t mean anything by it”. Or “your too sensitive.” something similar.
I knew it wasn’t right and I knew if I had said those types of things to her she would have been pissed. Of course I would tell my parents everything that happened after a visit and of course he wasn’t happy. We both decided to go low contact for my mental health as it was taking a toll on me. We didn’t see them for about a year.
When it came to my relationship with my sister I was left wondering where I went wrong… why was my sister hated me so much that she felt she had to berated, belittle, compare, and be competitive towards me every time we saw them. I just couldn’t understand, I thought our childhood rivalry was over years ago. I thought maybe I was doing something unconsciously that upset her.
As it turns out maybe my mere existence upsets her and it’s not a reflection of me but of just how different we are. So one day I get a call from my sister’s husband Joey and they are separating. She’s bin on the Ashely Madison website and cheating for years and has a current bf. They both decided to divorce. He got the house and payed her out. They are doing 50/50 custody.
I came to find out that she has always had a problem with me and never wanted me there and I guess how she treated me was her way of letting me know that. Joey told me they would constantly fight about me and or how she treated me. And that we are family and the kids and so on. At some point she called me and told me about the situation and her new place and we should come have dinner sometime and see her new place. Then it became and meet my new bf and his family.
My husband had me text her to cancel the dinner as soon as it became a meet the bf, his family thing. I told her honestly that we weren’t ready to meet him and maybe in time. And honestly the reason we hadn’t seen them the last year was because of how she treated me.
She instantly snapped why would we need to wait to meet her bf? Why would that make a difference? If her leaving someone she wasn’t meant to be with meant we wouldn’t be in her life then so be it… I was shocked. I didn’t even know how to reply. We only just found out about the cheating and her moving out and already she wants us to meet him and isn’t understanding how that could be very uncomfortable.
For context we are Catholics. But our mother wasn’t a good example and we never went to church, my husband on the other hand is catholic as well. He was raised in a household that went to church every Sunday and holds the same beliefs as me that marriage isn’t something you just throw away. And cheating is disgusting…. He didn’t want to go and risk losing his shit on them let alone in front of his family. We don’t even know if his family knows the truth behind their relationship. We don’t want to meet him. And we were both upset that we know how hard it will most likely be on the kids.
Ending we are still in contact with Joey and the kids. We started doing family activities together again and we have offered Joey help with the kids or anything else… he is a great guys, great dad and honestly has handled the whole situation way better than anyone I know would have.

So, a few years ago he went out on a few dates with a girl he’s known in passing since he was a teenager. He’s in his 50s now and he always had a thing for her.
Thing is, he had a major head injury when he was young and he just isn’t right, she picked up on that pretty quickly and told him she didn’t want to see him anymore.
To him, this is all some big test. I was unaware there was an issue and looked up some photos for him about a year ago which I texted to him. (He isn’t tech savvy and uses a flip phone). I didn’t think anything of it.
Once it became clear to me that he had some bad stuff going on, I regretted getting those photos for him.
He accidentally erased everything on his phone recently and he asked me to get them back. I told him I couldn’t remember how I found them.
This isn’t something that has happened all in his head either. He went to visit her parents, bought gifts for her and left them on her porch, changed his vehicle plate to a vanity plate with his and her initials. She started with a no trespassing order and then when he broke that to put gifts on her porch again she had him charged with stalking.
The reason I ask here is because he’s completely delusional. He thinks it’s all a big test and she wants to see how much he will take and still love her. He spent three days in jail already and he said, “it isn’t what it looks like. It’s all a big show. This person was at court and they winked at me. The judge is in on it. She’s a very prominent person in the community and knows all the right people. It isn’t real!”
He is totally, dangerously convinced.
He had stopped going over to her town, but after he lost the pictures he started going to places he knows that she might be so he can get a glimpse of her.
I know nothing about the psychology behind what’s going on with him, and I can’t help but wonder if having a picture might help or if it would make it worse.
His dad came to me crying yesterday. I’m the last person on the planet who still tolerates him, and only barely, and only because I am trying desperately to influence him away from this mess.
He is definitely going to end up in jail for awhile if it doesn’t stop (and honestly if he don’t get help, that’s for the best). I told his father to have him committed yesterday. He’s been committed before over delusions about money that ended with him being divorced. His kids are great people and they’re totally humiliated at this point. Everywhere they go it’s, “So, your dad, woooooooow. He’s not ok at all is he?”
What’s your advice?