Extremely hard phlegm

So I notice on days that I workout, I get WAYYY more hungrier than on days where I rest. I’m still extremely hungry on my rest days (rightfully so ig) but it isn’t nearly as bad or painful compared to the days where I don’t get a workout in. The thing is though, I don’t want to completely stop again. I did for a month when I started recovery and it was hard on my mental health. But since I’m still experiencing this, do you think it’s probably best that I cut the amount of days in the week? Like maybe I can do 3-4 or even 3 days? That’ll be challenging for me, but I’m willing to do it if that means my EH will get lower since it’s still quite high despite my big weight gain these past few months.

This is a question I’ve had for awhile because Venus could look like it is habitable judging only by the metrics we use for distant exoplanets…
For example:

• 0.9x the size of Earth
• Orbital period of 225 days
• Rocky and has an atmosphere
• Within the habitable zone of a yellow dwarf star

Most exoplanets we’ve found orbit red dwarfs. Red dwarfs have a habitable zone extremely close to themselves, meaning that 85% of exoplanets are tidally locked w/~10 day orbital periods… A 225 day orbital period is definitely one of the better orbital periods I’ve heard of.
Additionally, most rocky exoplanets tend to 3x-5x the size of Earth where the gravity would be unbearable. Venus is 0.95x, we hardly ever find a rocky exoplanet with a size that close to Earth.
While some may argue Venus is not in the habitable zone… it is really close. Correct me if I’m wrong, isn’t there an assumed margin of error for an exoplanets distance from its sun?To my knowledge, we also don’t have the technology to know what the atmosphere would be composed of. Could we tell that Venus is extremely hot?
Venus with just a few modifications in its history, might not have been the unbearable planet it is today. It is so close, yet so far in terms of supporting life.
I should add that I’m not educated and don’t have experience with what we know about distant exoplanets, so I could be really far off… but I just thought I’d ask.

Me (33NB) and my wife (33F) have been together for 13 years. We met when we were 19 and 20 so we've basically spent our entire adult lives together. We both have a lot of trauma and mental health issues. We both came from abusive and dysfunctional families and as a result we both have PTSD, BPD, and a lot of anxiety issues. We also both have autism and ADHD. This has always made our relationship very complicated, but we've always tried our best to work through our problems together, and we're both in individual therapy.
My BPD is inward acting or "quiet" BPD, so when I get emotionally overwhelmed I cope by shutting down and self harming or self destructing. My wife is very outward acting though, so when she gets overwhelmed she yells, screams, punches things, or throws things. She's never hit me, and when she's thrown things at me they normally never leave a mark or anything. She feels bad about it after it happens, and she apologizes but she also explains to me how her reactions, while not ok, are also partially my fault for upsetting her. I've spent the past 13 years trying to learn how to not upset her, but it keeps happening and I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong.
A few months ago we got a puppy, and normally she's very good to the puppy and the puppy seems to love her, but occasionally she hits her when she gets really mad at her. Not hard enough to injure her, but hard enough to make her yelp. Last week she once threw her against the wall but she didn't appear to be injured. A few weeks ago she threatened to steal the dog if we ever break up, and she told me she even considered asking our neighbors to watch her for a little bit and telling me the dog got out and ran away but she decided not to do that.
Things came to a head recently when I broke my ankle 2 weeks ago, so for a while I was barely able to get out of bed and basically not able to take care of myself or the dog. Almost any time I asked my wife to do something for me or take care of the dog, she yelled at me that I was controlling her and manipulating her. There were times she straight up refused to bring me food and told me she wouldn't take the dog out or feed her until the dog was literally screaming. She said that until then the dog could wait. But now I'm able to move around more so I'm taking care of the dog myself.
This was when I started to get worried, so I reached out to friends seeing if there was any way for me to get out. One of my friends told me she's planning to get a new place in the next 6 months and offered to let me move there with her. I was planning to keep this to myself for now, but 2 days ago I had an argument with my wife which resulted in her throwing her backpack at me which was filled with heavy things. It hit my hand and left me with a sore knuckle and a tiny bruise, but it doesn't look that bad. Still, I know that leaving any kind of mark on me is a red flag.
That's when I told her I'm planning to move out and she's not coming with me. My wife begged me to not give up on 13 years and everything we've worked for. She told me it would be the biggest betrayal she's ever had in her life because I'm the 1 person she thought would never abandon her. She suggested we go to couples counseling and asked that I at least take a few months to decide whether or not I'm leaving. She also promised that if she ever gets too rough with the dog I can tell her to stop and she will. I do want to give it a try, because I do love her and I want to know I did everything I could before giving it all up. I know I'll never have this type of connection with anyone ever again.
I told one of my friends what happened and she's mad at me for not leaving my wife immediately. She says I'm not thinking about what's best for me or my dog, but I think unless things get more extreme we'll be ok for the next few months. And if she ever hurts me worse, or hurts the dog and doesn't stop when I tell her to, then I promise I will leave at that point. But my friend is trying to convince me to leave now or at least let her take my dog for a while. I don't want to give her the dog partially because it might upset my partner, and partially because this dog has been passed around to so many homes already I'm worried she might feel abandoned.
I don't know, I see her point but I would just feel guilty if I left right now without at least trying couples counseling. Besides, our problems are partially my fault for upsetting her so I can't deny my role. If the counseling doesn't work then at least I'll know I did everything I could and it just couldn't be fixed. But my friend thinks that the counseling is pointless, that I'm just wasting time, and that I'm not doing what's best for me and my dog. I don't know what to do, but I know I would feel guilty if I left right now and I don't feel ready to leave.

I hate that I use this account to post these sad rants but this is my new way of trying to explain myself. I’ve let months go by simply by accepting I’ll die soon.
I had my first serious attempt yesterday (none have come this close). Mother’s Day. Who does that ? My whole immediate family including young kids (my first baby cousins) came over. Usually at these parties I’m one of the best dressed, on making drinks, somehow am also the entertainer and the one to get the kids to sit/eat. Can’t even imagine my family getting to the house and finding me lifeless. Yet I still tried to die. Due to my appearance and having avoided my family for the last few months.. everyone asked me if I was “okay”. I was pretty good with avoiding these pursuits of answers by helping in the kitchen and playing with the kids. No sane adult is going to force you, an adult, to start explaining where/what you’ve been when a kid is playing with you or your hands are occupied. I pathetically took advantage of this. I’ve always been relatively close to my family but I’ve burned ties twice now. First time around this time last year and second time we are currently in. What got me out of that first time ? I’m not really sure. I think I just knew I had to try one more time before really giving up. There were some cornered moments and while my loved ones were just doing what family does (checking in) I just kept replaying my attempt that occurred precisely two hours before anyone got there. I wore a dress with a collar. This collar was important because my neck was extremely bruised and looked scratched. My attempt if not apparent by now was by partial hanging. I put makeup on it and left my hair down to cover. It wasn’t enough but this goes to show how good I was with avoiding eye contact and being investigated. My sister isn’t easily fooled. We were setting up some food before people arrived and she asked me what happened to my neck. I didn’t even take the time to come up with a story just in case. Was it a cry for help? I wasn’t going to let it be. I somehow blamed it on my necklace scratching me when I took it off. To this second I don’t know how she believed me or the conversation shifted. Must have been a combination of my tone/mannerism and her just going with the flow because I was actually present. I haven’t been with anyone in so long. My isolation has ruined everything. Anyways I put more concealer and kept a smile for my family. My dad walked into the gathering with flowers for everyone. After greeting everyone he approached me with my own orchid and a trinket for me. I am not a mother but he made it a point to include me and to remind me he thinks of me. The trinket can be described as a decoration for a table. An all in all thoughtful gift. It has in cursive “live the life you love, love the life you live” with a clip I’m guessing to add a picture. I immediately grabbed it, turned it around so I wasn’t reading it anymore, somehow changed the conversation and he being my father (I believe knows me more than I think), took the hint to walk away. I’m grateful he did because I was about to have a mental breakdown. I somehow held my tears back and forced my attention back to my baby cousin which wasn’t hard she was drawing and wanted me to see. After a bit of this she wanted to go by the front of the house to play and her mom was there alone. This is down a hall away from where we were. I felt time move slow as we made eye contact and my mouth go dry as the space between us was closing. I knew what was coming. Everyone else was congregated in the kitchen and family room. A simple what’s up how have you been was about to send me over the edge. I didn’t even notice I was holding my dads gift in my right hand. She grabbed my left hand and instinctively said “wow I’ve never seen your skin this pale it’s like porcelain”. She didn’t mean it in a bad way just stating a fact. I looked at her and as my eyes started tearing up she let go. She asked me if I was sad and I said I can’t talk now because I’ll lose it. Thing is once I start I can’t stop. I told her I needed to go to the bathroom. She called her daughter said we need to talk I said okay and went to my bathroom upstairs. As I stared at myself in the mirror now completely alone I realized just how different I have to look to everyone. I looked at my dads gift and really started crying. After a few sobs I somehow managed to stop crying and fix my makeup a bit. I went back down to the party mostly to try to prove I’m okay and avoid being a topic. I know this was the bare minimum thing to do. I know this isn’t who I should be. This weekend coming is a bigger party. Point is I barely survived yesterday. I’m one of the youngest in my family not including the baby cousins. That being said everyone is older and has way more stressors than me. They either have kids, their careers, more bills, and whatever else. These people manage to go to every party, maintain conversation, and overall be apart of the family. I 23 unemployed overweight believe I can’t get it together. I can’t be apart of anything. I went through college and from the moment that last semester ended didn’t know what the fuck to do next. Before my attempt yesterday morning I spent an hour on a suicide hotline. I never admitted to the woman on the phone how close I was to the edge. This is what I wrote down after the call “I told her almost everything. The isolation, how I let myself go, and how I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I couldn’t actually say what my plan was. The lady was really nice. We agreed I should face everyone and get professionally evaluated. I didn’t really mean it. I’m going to die before I face anyone and I couldn’t tell her I can’t tell anyone. She was a really nice lady. I wonder if she’s a mom. It’s Mother’s Day. Mommy I can’t do it. You were always there for me. Always answered me. I can’t answer you anymore. I wish I could’ve talked to you. I wish I would’ve just talked. For what it’s worth I do love you. “. My mother called me around 9AM Mother’s Day morning. Said she needs help getting gifts ready and I told her I felt bad. She said how everyone is worried and I have no reason to be this far gone/sad. I somehow got the conversation to end. She ended saying I was going to be okay that we’re going to get me a therapist just have to get through mothers day and next weeks party. I said I love you and immediately tied the belt around my neck. I was seeing black, choking, ears ringing, and arms shuffling. Something came over me and I got myself out of it. I didn’t even cry. I went to my bathroom showered, got dressed, and you know the rest. Now I’m here 4 o’clock the next day writing. I have spent the whole day in bed. I think subconsciously I’ve let myself go into this isolation to weaken my body. For it to be easier for me to die and severed connections for it to be easier for those around me. I don’t know what I want from writing this down. I know my throat feels sore and I think I want to know why this is happening. I want to somehow try to put a reasoning behind everything. Somehow find a way to maybe really talk to one of the people that care without breaking down and shooting blanks with my mouth. I’ve tried even though it looks to those around me I haven’t. Thanks for reading.. comments are sincerely appreciated.

For clarification, everything I’m about to say is fake (aea325bb10cb78717b214f0468506e53191c051c), 10 years ago there was an archived post about a strange man giving a sticky note to the op. The sticky note contained directions to access the shadow web. The op explained that what he saw was even worse than anything on the dark web.
After digging myself only coming across this archived post today, I have found out how very shockingly easy it is to access. I understand speaking about this is a double edged sword considering other people will also try to dig. Trust me, it isn’t worth it and the privacy on the gateway used to access it is non existent. The gateway, sh.web is what is used (this is fake). It uses an old popular browser with a certain torrent version that can give you special access to this gateway through a proxy. Nothing more needs to be said about how to get on it.
After digging deeper into the backbone of the shadow web, this specific version of the browser has a zero day vulnerability and many privacy flaws. Nothing on your device is safe. This includes but not limited to: cameras, microphone, storage, router packets, and manipulation of usb connected devices. After doing deep reverse researching of the gateway and its contents, the correct version of the browser can be found on a surface web rabbit hole site.
The shadow web consists of many things that should not be mentioned in this subreddit. Certain “documents” on the shadow web can be viewed that contain info the average person should not read. I’m going to leave it at that. Once again, this is all fake. Please be safe. Edit: I need at least 500 words so what is said next should not be considered real (26ae67149653b5184474965c93397936de87063f).
If anyone decides to go down this rabbit hole, only research and access this through either a cloud machine or non-personal temporary computer. Put tape over your camera and take the microphone module out of your computer. They can see you and hear you if not careful. The shadow web has already been reported to a government body by a very old post from a long time ago. I am not liable for the things you see and how they affect you.
But you should NEVER go or even attempt to go on the shadow web. There have been multiple assassinations that have most likely come from the shadow web and people trying to give out info on the subject. While there is no hard evidence, each murder connects the dots.
I have never been more scared to post something in my life. This is not something to mess around with. Try searching up shadow web right now. What did you find? Almost nothing. The reason? The info known to access it or even know about it is extremely scarce. The websites that are most popular on there are horrid. This would include live execution and torture.
My final warning, DO NOT TRY IT, you will regret your decision. Be safe on the internet.
this is all fictitious

I love sex. I am a really sexual being and prefer to do it quite often. However I am not really relationship material at the moment (BPD and a host of other mental illnesses I need to work on before that), so I have sex with a lot of men that really mean nothing to me.
When I first started doing it, it was fine. I will decide I wanted to have sex that night, go on a dating app or wherever, and find someone to fuck. I try to pick people I at least like as a person, but I find emotional connection extremely rare for me. Usually we don’t see each other more than once and it’s just a quick fuck to both of us. Whatever.
Recently I had a brief exclusive relationship where we had a great sex life and that has changed my feelings towards sex. When we broke up, I thought okay I can go back to having sex with randos and I will at least be fine in that department. But now that I know how much emotional connection betters sex, it just hurts me to only be a hookup to someone. Plus I am just outgrowing my ability to view sex as completely meaningless.
I have also realized the way men I sleep with talk to me kinda disturbs me. They compliment my body and tell me I am pretty and that’s nice, used to be enough validation for me, but I want more. I want someone to actually see who I am and appreciate it beyond just what I look like. I have also realized that a lot of people don’t have respect for their casual sex partners, they like to push their limits with what I will accept and I am really scared of men so it is hard for me to tell them no.
The thing is, I am not sure I am a person that is easy to appreciate. I have some really good friendships so I don’t think I am completely unloveable but man am I not relationship material. Not because I am a bad person or anything, I just struggle with controlling my emotions and it can be a lot for people to deal with. My ex and I broke up because he “wasn’t equipped” to deal with someone who had problems like mine. Did it nicely and acknowledged that my problems come from a long history of trauma, but damn it still hurt. Being with him had made me think that maybe it was possible for a normal, stable person to want me, but I was wrong.
So I won’t be in a relationship for a while until I am better, or maybe I will get lucky and meet someone willing to stick with me as I grow. Doubt that though. My issue is that I am a person who really needs sex. I thrive off the validation it gives me and just have a really high sex drive. Clearly my relationship with it is fucked not denying that.
But what now? I want to have sex and be satisfied but I don’t want to watch my body count keep increasing as I sleep with men who don’t care about me. I guess the ideal is a consistent FWB but men don’t really want that with me.
Do I just quit having sex until I am fixed? Are there people willing to deal with my emotional issues?
I guess I have given up on loving or being loved, only time I’ve ever come close to either he beat me and did a host of other horrific shit. I don’t want to give up sex though.

Believe me or not. I’m looking for some Information or help. I practice in my own way. I don’t belong to any path. On my journeys I recently had an extremely profound experience.
During this time, My spiritual doors were blown wide open. I wish to go back to that spot one day.
While I was in this state of mind, I had extreme intuition from beyond myself. I could see strings being pulled from a greater order onto the physical world we reside in. I was receiving “downloads” of information. They would come suddenly. I could taste, hear and feel these downloads in my spine and hands. It was almost like a dust. Super hard to describe.
After some time, I had something jump into me.
I felt like I was receiving one of these downloads but this one felt more invasive. I roll around and I feel a rush of gold and black energy forcing its way into me.
I saw an entity, gold and black. Masculine. Laughing maniacally and was armed with a sword and wings.
My hairs stand up on my arms and goosebumps everywhere. I groan as I feel something becoming me. I feel an extreme surge of power and excitement rush through me. I grabbed my face and started uncontrollably laughing just as I had seen the entity do. My partner witnessed all of this. Made her extremely uneasy and scared her. I described what I saw to her and told her that he was a good guy. I went to relieve myself in the bathroom and this entity told me that I was going to have to kill somebody sometime in the future.
I told my partner what was told to me.
and she demanded I calm down and talk quieter, that I wasn’t right.
This snapped me out of the muddy thoughts I had. A moment of clarity was all that I needed to know I was being affected. He was no longer inside me but attatched to me. I He was touching my shoulders. He was able to enter me once more for a few seconds after grabbing my wrist forcibly.
The experience was actually semi positive. The energy running through me while connected was exhilarating. What the fuck was that all about? Any words of wisdom? I lack a teacher. I’m Going through all of this alone. Thank you.

Trigger warning for gr00ming and SA.
I, (21NB) used to have a friend that I’ll call G (25F). When I was 16, G was 20. That’s when this story takes place. I was going through a really hard time, and tried to spend as little time in my own house as possible. I was always with her. Through this time, she started grooming me, and I began to develop strong feelings for her. She had this roommate that we’ll call M (currently 24F, back then she was 19) and the roommate had a boyfriend who was 21 at the time and would be 26 now. We’ll call the boyfriend B. For context, I am a lesbian, G and M are both bi, and B is straight. One night, I was staying at her house, and after G and M fell asleep, I had a total breakdown (I was going through a lot at this point and was generally in an extremely vulnerable headspace). I went outside so I wouldn’t wake them up, and sobbed for a long time. Next thing I know, B comes running out of his car, picks me up, and carries me inside. I just remember sobbing and apologizing over and over again while he held me and told me it was okay. Eventually I calmed down enough to go back to bed. But I was in a really bad headspace and every single one of them knew it (G and M didn’t see me break down THAT TIME, but I’d been talking to them about not being okay for weeks, I had broken down in front of them before literally a few days prior, and B told them both about my breakdown that night). The next day, I was hanging out with G when M and B came up and asked if we’d have a foursome with them. I said that I was really uncomfortable. They all kept saying come on, it will be fun, B doesn’t have to touch me, etc. I still wasn’t comfortable and I kept repeating “I don’t know” because I was scared to make them mad. But they kept trying to talk me into it. I remember G saying that it was up to me, but it would make her really happy if I agreed to it. (Side note, I didn’t even have a car, and G was my ride, so I couldn’t just leave.) We went back and forth about this for like 10/15 minutes before finally I reluctantly said “I guess… but can I at least get drunk first?” And then they all got really excited and started handing me drinks until I was drunk. Then… yeah… I felt completely used and disgusting afterwards. But honestly by that point, I had been made to feel over and over again like this type of shit was normal, and that my “friends” would only really want me around if I was willing to do sexual stuff. And I really didn’t have many friends by this point outside of these people. So, I tried to act like everything was normal. I kept being their friend. Especially G. Then, a similar situation with her happened again. I’m not gonna go into that one in detail, because I wasn’t the only victim in the second situation, and I don’t feel right speaking on it without his permission because it’s his story as much as it’s mine. It took me a while to cut G off.. but when I was 18, I went off to college and naturally started speaking to her less. Then at around 19 or 20, I started to kinda process everything. being closer to her age at that point… it REALLY disturbed me. It hit me hard. I had been having flashbacks since it happened, but I always tried to shake my head and talk myself out of my feelings. But at that point, I realized exactly how fucked up it was. Like… at 20 years old, I could never even imagine putting a vulnerable 16 year old in those situations. I couldn’t even imagine wanting to sleep with a 16 year old, AT ALL!!! Initially, my plan was to never speak to her again, until a few days ago. A few months ago, I got really close with this girl that we will call K (23F). Apparently, K and G used to date. I knew it ended badly, but a few nights ago, we got into a deep conversation about G and we realized that we could very much relate to having sexual trauma caused by G. Then, we talked to some other people and realized it was more people than just me, K and the guy I briefly mentioned earlier. Including the three of us, it’s 5 and counting. All AFTER my encounters with her (except for one, which was during one of my encounters with her🙃). K and I were a little intoxicated that night, but we both basically said that we wanted to confront G about all of this shit. We went to bed, sobered up, and talked again the next morning. While we were both sober, we agreed that both of us still wanted to confront her. So, on Saturday, K and I sent her a message. Told her we wanted to speak to her face to face in a public setting, and properly explain why we cut her off to begin with. She wanted to hear it right there and then on the phone, but eventually she agreed to meet us today at a Waffle House parking lot at 7 pm. We live in a one party state, and plan to record the entire interaction in case she tries to get violent, or slander us afterwards. If either of those things happen, well then I guess her job will just have to see the recording. She works at a community center around children and teens. I’m sure they’d LOVE to know what kind of person they have working for them. Wish me luck yall. If you have any advice going into this, I’d love to hear it. And if y’all want an update after the fact, let me know. I’ll gladly provide it.

Hello everyone, I've been dealing with a break up that shook up everything about myself for the past 7 months. I just want to write this as a reflective piece. This was a 3 and a half year long relationship.
So I was dating a woman that I met in college (she was slightly older than me so she already had graduated), and the first few months felt like heaven. I never really had a relationship before where I felt so compelled, so in love with someone. And she really was a sweetheart, she did so many nice gestures, date ideas for us, and I was completely in sync and returned the favor as well. But then COVID hit and we went to remote learning/working from home. And this is honestly where our relationship's issues started to come into play, and not because of us (initially). Without revealing anything personal, my ex worked an incredibly abusive and demanding job that would have her often working until midnight or later, every single day. And this went on for years. The issue with this, on top of her trying to study, was that everything in our relationship had to either be cut off or revolve around her job. The thing is though, is that I learned over time (especially once I started my career and worked for a bit), was that she was under no obligation to actually work these insane hours with no overtime. She was just letting her job take advantage of her and essentially bully/pressure her into doing far more work than she needed to. While short-term this was not a huge issue to me, this was also actively eating into her own personal goals and achievements, and was taking a toll on her health as well.
I tried everything in the most polite way possible to convince her to look elsewhere, think of other opportunities (never told her to just outright quit as thats not my place), but she seemed to always dig her heels in and try to complain internally at her job, which literally never worked. It always led to bigger issues down the line. And eventually, it started to genuinely annoy me that our relationship was basically stalling and we were only seeing each other once a week or once every two weeks. I still genuinely loved her (and she really loved me) though, and tried my hardest to support her through it. By comparison, with my first job (which was in an extremely similar field), I was only working 40 hours a week, maybe 50 tops. But it was starting to get extremely worrisome that even by the 2 and a half year mark, I couldn't even get her to come on a vacation without her abruptly having to leave.
I want to make it clear though that despite all these issues, we were always incredibly understanding and honest to each other, and that if I had not made the decision I made, she never would have broken up with me, and probably would have been an incredibly loyal wife. However, after another year of feeling like she was really being more loyal to a shitty job than to me (and some other issues as well, without getting too into it I wasn't really able to bring myself to care about her interests anymore out of frustration, her problems that stemmed from never wanted to confront them was getting to me where I just didn't have it in me anymore, and her friends were pretty much actively shittalking me behind my back despite being significantly more supportive to her than any of her friends were, who basically used her constantly), I decided that I was going to end things with her. I did everything about the break-up correctly and respectfully, I went to her place, said that it wasn't fair for her to date someone that just didn't have it in them anymore, and I left. And that was the last I ever spoke to her.
Ever since I broke up with her, I've been hard blocked, no-contact style on everything by her. And for a long time (and even recently), it sucked hard. Someone that I spent so much time with, someone that I put so much love into, so many deep conversations that left me so happy, to see her just sort of treat me like I don't exist hurt like a motherfucker. I know it was definitely harder for her initially, as I dumped her, the guilt of hurting someone as sweet, smart, and as kind as she was absolutely ruined me. I'm ashamed to admit it, but multiple times I tried to contact her, just to talk, but every time it was met with deafening silence. Nothing.
To make matters worse, within a week of our breakup, I was laid off as well at my job.
But this is where things take a turn.
I was never a fit guy, but from starting a career at a sedentary job and feeling set in life with a beautiful girlfriend, I put on some serious pounds, I went from a little pudgy to straight up fat. I was starting to develop awful acid reflux + I have a nasty double chin when I'm fat, and with my job and my love life gone, I realized that for the first time in my life, I'm going to fight for myself, to be proud of how I look and feel. And thats exactly what I did. I took all of that sorrow, all of that guilt, and I took it to the gym, and I interviewed my ass off with some companies.
Flash forward to seven months later (now), I'm in the best shape I've ever been in my life (sub-20% bodyfat and looking to cut even more), all of my stomach issues disappeared from being active, and now I work at a job far better (and more stable) than my last one. As someone who never seemed to attract women, I'm actually starting to have great conversations and meet new people (although I don't know if I'm ready to start dating again) who genuinely seem interested in me. I feel great, and I feel motivated. I knew it wasn't going to be easy being alone, but I believe I'm doing the right thing. I think anyone going through something like this needs to hear this; don't give up. You put the work into yourself and it'll all come together. Its never too late.
And typing this post was very therapeutic, felt like getting a massive weight off my chest. I still feel the pain of loneliness and missing my ex's compassion and companionship sometimes, but I don't truly regret my decision. I really wish we worked out, but ultimately her inability to confront her problems was her own worst enemy. I'm the exact opposite, I confront my problems head on. I just hope that one day I find someone perfect for me.
Thanks for reading.

She is such a boring person and has 0 personailty or charisma so has now copied the way Cory's world and charly ann do their voice overs. Just the whole singing, light hearted "banter" and even the way she is saying certain words. Also all this fake positivity she is trying sooo hard but it's so unnatural, Cory's world does the same thing and she is just blatantly copying. She's really clutching at straws for the views at this point she's just extremely dull.

Lately, I've noticed that I've been getting angry and irritated easily, and I've become very negative about everything - my surroundings, the people around me, the state of the world in general, and even myself. Spending time with family or friends has become difficult because I feel an intense need to be away from them and on my own within 5-10 minutes of interacting with them. I’m pushing away people who were once close to me because I don’t really want to meet or interact with them, and my outlook on life has turned extremely pessimistic. It's hard for me to see others happy in their lives, and sometimes I catch myself wishing for others to be more miserable. Today, when I heard that someone I didn't get along with had passed away from cancer, I found myself saying, "that's great”. My reaction made me realise that things have perhaps gone too far. I'm ashamed of these feelings because I know I wasn’t always this person, but I don’t know how to start the process of being better.

Im currently finishing my masters and starting the Bar in about a month. My fatigue is so extreme right now that I’m getting really anxious thinking about how on earth I will be able to study 10-12 hours a day for the Bar… Lately it’s been incredibly difficult to focus and finish my thesis, the brain fog is making hard to sift through the information. What do you recommend I try? (To be clear, I already take excellent care of my health. I’m on top of nutrition, water intake, exercice, etc.) it would mean the world to me if anyone here could advise me.

I have been dating a woman for the prior two years and we jumped into the relationship both after we left our previous partners. I have successfully navigated my divorce and she is having difficulty with her ex husband is borderline a lunatic. I have a strong assumption he has some addiction issues and she is a bit naive to see it but essentially his entire family has abandoned him and he comes around often enough to make her feel guilty. Like he doesn’t have a ride to go places or needs money for food. At this point the ex husband has no real relationship with his children as he is mentally unstable and doesn’t have a reliable place to live.
All this trauma from the years of abuse has made her extremely hesitant to proceed with what you would call a "normal relationship". At this point I have no clue where she lives just general an idea, I have never met her children or her met mine. I have insisted on multiple times and met with the she isn't ready to introduce her children to a romantic partner at this time. There are times where we talk about purchasing a home together, and as she has worked really hard to recover from the financial issues her ex husband put her under she has erased 50k in debt and now has enough cash to buy a home outright. I feel inferior and as a man I feel like I should be the provider, she agrees but isn't ready for a commitment that big. I make around 30% more a year but have child support and alimony that impacts my net gains a month.
She has worked 2 really good jobs for past 4 years digging her out of debt and now she has more then enough to quit one. However in my opinion she has become intoxicated by the money she is saving. She complains a lot of the hours lately and i have encouraged her to quit a job and we can focus on building our families relationships . She always seems interested in this and we talk about it with the little time we get together. With our current job commitments we really see each other only Sunday evenings for a few hours. I always make her dinner and we watch movies. The sex is insanely good and we orgasm multiple times during our one night a week we see each other. I have expressed interest in moving to the next phase and she is always in a range of emotions. When we spend a week or more on vacation together we only get closer and she seems more ready to take next steps but then will find ways to not see me for a couple weeks as if she is distancing herself. I feel stuck in this inevitable loop and have explained this to her and she only says well if you would like to pause the relationship and pursue something else we can do that. The thing is I don't. She is the most attractive, hard-working, perfect woman. I know I love her and will wait if I have to but sometimes I just feel I'm waiting for the inevitable breakup. We live in the same city and it feels like long distance. She always reassures me she loves me and I believe her. She isn't the lying or manipulating type of woman. Very catholic very traditional Mexican. I'm a white man and maybe her family would judge her for that, she says they wont but they seem like a close knit hispanic family. So I am a lost and really at a crossroads.
Is this a normal middle age relationship

January 2023 I moved to another country to complete an internship program for 5 months with 50 other people. It was similar to uni/college in that we lived in the same apartment and had lots of free time as the internship was 2/3 times a week.
For the majority of the time I was in a ‘situationship’ with a girl from america. The reason why it was a situationship is because I’m from london and she was going to stay in the internship country for at least another year, whcih is a 5 hour flight away.
At the end of the program we thought we would finish things but we quickly realised we liked each other too much so wanted to see if we could make things work. This went on for two months. She came to visit me once and I went to visit her once. I then made the decision that it would be best for us to stop which was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make but I felt that it was the right one at the time.
This decision had absolutely nothing to do with her. She I one of the best people I’ve ever met. We get a long like I do with my closest friends. I felt so comfortable around her. I made this decision purely because I know that long distance relationships are extremely hard. There was no definitive end date to the long distance. She had mentioned that she had considered moving to london before but I felt uncomfortable about her making such a huge life decision over me. This is why I ended things.
This was 8 months ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. I think about her everyday. About how kuch we liked each other and the amount of fun we had. I would go through my day and think “I wonder what she would think about this?, She would love this, she would have something funny to say about this, etc.
I don’t know if I made the right decision. Should I call her?

January 2023 I moved to another country to complete an internship program for 5 months with 50 other people. It was similar to uni/college in that we lived in the same apartment and had lots of free time as the internship was 2/3 times a week.
For the majority of the time I was in a ‘situationship’ with a girl from america. The reason why it was a situationship is because I’m from london and she was going to stay in the internship country for at least another year, whcih is a 5 hour flight away.
At the end of the program we thought we would finish things but we quickly realised we liked each other too much so wanted to see if we could make things work. This went on for two months. She came to visit me once and I went to visit her once. I then made the decision that it would be best for us to stop which was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make but I felt that it was the right one at the time.
This decision had absolutely nothing to do with her. She I one of the best people I’ve ever met. We get a long like I do with my closest friends. I felt so comfortable around her. I made this decision purely because I know that long distance relationships are extremely hard. There was no definitive end date to the long distance. She had mentioned that she had considered moving to london before but I felt uncomfortable about her making such a huge life decision over me. This is why I ended things.
This was 8 months ago and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. I think about her everyday. About how kuch we liked each other and the amount of fun we had. I would go through my day and think “I wonder what she would think about this?, She would love this, she would have something funny to say about this, etc.
I don’t know if I made the right decision. Should I call her?

I feel like I have spent 15 years of my life on the wrong people that I once considered my best friends. I'm someone who just never forget things easily and getting over someone is extremely difficult for me. I don't have many things in my life anyway to save. I don't have a social circle outside the internet so it hurts like hell seeing someone going out of your life.
I feel outed by all my school friends and I can totally sense it how they view me when I meet them. They judge me through their eyes and see me as a disgusting failure. I can sense it they way they react. They signal at each other while talking to me so I feel alienated. I let it all happened cause I'm someone who'd rather get abused or treated harsh by people than seeing them walk out of my life. I have not seen them for more than twice last year and only once this year till now while they live in the same city and meet with each other every 4 or 5 days. So they actively choose to never call me.
It's been a heartbreaking moment for me that all my childhood memories with them and the 15+ years of friendship was for nothing. It feels like I have not accomplished anything in my social life. All those wonderful memories I had with them now mean nothing because they don't consider me a friend anymore.
I have already stopped talking to them and have ended friendship and it's been 4 months already but the feeling of loneliness is hitting hard. I have absolute nobody to talk to and tell what I did, what I bough, where I went, what I am doing etc. There's no body to talk while they have each other all the time.

Hi, I(21F) just finished my undergrad in CS and AI engineering and was all set to go for masters in AI. Obviously masters is an expensive investment, but I was fortunate that my grandfather(mom’s dad) is paying for it and I am beyond grateful. I enjoy studying, it has always been something that I wanted to do, and hopefully contribute to the tech industry. Luckily, I also got a 6 month internship in a well reputed (not faang) company and I am still interning as of now. My dad has an event industry related business in the Middle East and I always wanted to contribute and expand to his business while I keep studying and pursue degrees that appeal to me. Honestly, I like the academic life and with the opportunity to experience it while living on my own without any additional responsibilities genuinely excited me. For context, I live in India with my family, as the eldest daughter and sort of the responsible adult in a family with adults, raising people older and younger than me while managing my own ADHD has been exhausting to say the least and even my therapist suggests that my one year masters will be good for my mental health. My parents always supported my academic journey and I know I work hard and study hard. All was set for me to leave for my masters. However, due to disputes in the business, my dad was left with the only option of leaving the business and forgetting his share. The situation is extremely sad and unfair and I hate seeing my dad hiding his feelings of defeat to not stress us. The legal battle was expensive and exhausting and let’s just say everything is done and my dad has to start from scratch. I won’t be providing more details as the situation is not salvageable.
This is where I am lost, I have offered multiple times to not do my masters right now(could do it next year)because I understand that there is a need of funds and I also understand that such an investment doesn’t make sense considering I ultimately want to join the business and not stay in the tech industry. However, obviously as a parent he didn’t want to see me give up on my dreams or aspirations and he always encouraged me to pursue my degree. On one hand I am genuinely thrilled that I got into a school I wanted but it breaks my heart to think of going through with it. My masters would cost around $60k and I know this is money that would help support my dad. If I don’t do my masters, I plan on moving to my dad and either helping him with the business or trying my luck to get a tech job, I haven’t thought much yet. I also considered taking a loan for my education but my dad was against it. I feel I’m stuck in a limbo. I just wish I could help and also do my masters.
I feel that both my dad and I are emotionally clouded to look at things practically, so what do you guys think I should do?
Thank you

When I was in my early 20’s, I worked at a dog boarding facility.
It wasn’t a bad gig by any means. A lot of menial work, sure, but it paid the bills, and most of the time I was stationed at the front desk, which meant I avoided a lot of direct interaction with most of the dogs. Instead, I dealt with the owners (or “pet parents,” as we called them), which, while more my forte, was oftentimes arguably worse. At least with a dog, you can justify it being stupid.
Looking back on that night now, I would have much rather dealt with a person than the dog that I had encountered.
One of my duties when working the front desk in the evenings was cleaning the lobby and locking the front doors for the night. The opening shift would then come in the morning, unlock the doors, and the cycle would repeat. This is what I had been doing when I realized I had locked myself out of the building.
For a little additional context, the building itself had three front doors. Two led into a sort of breezeway before you got to the actual front door, which led into the actual building. The first two doors had to be locked and unlocked manually, but the main door locked and unlocked itself automatically on a timer. Normally, this was no issue. Every employee had a fob that, when pressed on a sensor near the door, would unlock it briefly to allow entry. But my fob was attached to my keys, which were tucked away in my locker within the building.
Usually, again, this would have been a minor inconvenience at worst. I could simply go around to the back door, bang on it for a minute or two, and wait for one of my coworkers to open the door. But, I had to stay behind that evening and finish cleaning the lobby, having been delayed by a few last-minute pickups and a particularly chatty client on the phone. We had been working with a skeleton crew, as new hires had been few and far between, and the girl I had been working with was tired and eager to go home. I let her go and told her I would lock up on my own.
I wish I had told her to stay.
Standing there in the breezeway, with nothing but the singular key to the two front doors, I was kicking myself. I’d fucked myself over this time, and now I was going to have to make the humiliating call for someone to come to the building and let me in. I could feel the weight of my phone in my pocket, and I slipped my hand into it, only to freeze in place.
It was not my phone, but my wallet.
Shit. It only then occurred to me that my phone was also still within the building. During the slower parts of the day, I had it out and had been texting my boyfriend at the time. Now it sat at the front desk, so close but so far at the same time. Not only had I locked myself out of the building, I had locked myself out of the building by myself, with no way to get help. In my overdramatic mind, suicide was starting to sound like a very good option.
There was a gas station about a mile or so away that I knew would be open and that, I guessed, was where I was going to have to go. There, I could presumably use a phone and get a hold of my roommate to come pick me up. In the morning, I could drop off the key and get my stuff.
I unlocked one of the two doors and stepped out, locking it once again behind me. I slipped the key into my pocket and started walking. It was already dark out and I was cold and eager to get this over with.
That’s when I heard the clicking of nails against the pavement, just barely audible.
My first instinct was that somehow, a dog had escaped. Sure, stray dogs weren’t uncommon, especially in the city that I lived in, but given the proximity to the building, I had feared that somehow, some way, a dog had managed to slip out under our noses and get out of the building. This would have taken either some incredible negligence on our end or some incredible intelligence on the dog’s, but it technically was possible.
I turned around and scanned the area, trying to locate the source of the sound. The parking lot was illuminated by a singular streetlight and the outside lights from the nearby buildings, and the dark of night was creeping in, thick and inky black. The noise came from further back, near the employee parking, which only fueled my suspicion that a dog had escaped. I really didn’t want to go back there in the dark, but I also wasn’t too keen on getting in trouble for letting a dog get out. I slowly crept over, keeping my ears and eyes open, trying to find the dog.
Finally, it stepped out from the shadows, standing near my car. It was a large, filthy Great Pyrenees, and we briefly had a staring match as I tried to figure out who it was. We had a few Pyrenees dogs come in, but it was mostly for daycare, and we didn’t have any in the building that night. I didn’t recognize this specific dog, either, but I hoped that it had a collar with a name and number on it, so that I could at least call the owner and let them know where I had found their animal whenever I got a chance. I knelt and extended my hand, making a kissy noise in the hopes of drawing it over.
“Hi, baby,” I said, using my “dog voice,” making it as soft and non-threatening as I could. “C’mere.” The dog took a few steps forward, eyes still focused on me.
That’s when I noticed the smell. Rotting meat and blood, strong enough that I could smell it from where I stood. The dog was reeking of decay. In my mind, I rationalized it. We were next to a highway, after all. No telling what kinds of roadkill it could have been getting into. I just did my best to push through it in favor of making sure the dog was alright.
I continued my beckoning for a few minutes, doing as much baby talk as I possibly could. I didn’t want to approach the dog myself, just in case it was nervous, but if I could just get a look at that collar…
After about five minutes of this, I stood up, watching it for another moment. It wasn’t a dog I recognized and I couldn’t get it to come over to me on its own terms, so my tired and still-panicked brain decided that it wasn’t my problem. I’d just let my manager know in the morning that I had seen a dog sniffing around and that I was fairly certain it wasn’t one that we’d ever had to stay with us. Then, maybe we could find it again, clean it up, and see if it belonged to anybody. The animal control in my city isn’t particularly well-regarded, so I figured it would be better to wait and see than to get them involved.
I turned around and started to walk away, back down to the road, when I heard the clicking of nails against the pavement once again. I turned around to see the dog moving closer once again. Its movements were jerky and uncoordinated, and that combined with its condition made me think it was injured, so I stopped.
The dog never stopped moving towards me, but when it noticed that I had stopped to look at it, it stopped as well. Then, staring straight at me again, it broke out into a sprint. Its legs flailed and its head lolled as it headed straight towards me, and my stomach dropped.
Have you ever been prey? Have you ever looked something in the eyes and just known, in some deep, primal portion of your brain, that it was going to kill you? It’s a funny feeling— all the cold, heavy dread that seeps into you, like liquid into cloth.
At that moment, my mind screamed at me to run. Panicked, I broke out into a sprint, heading straight for the door to the building. I had precious seconds before it would reach me, and I fumbled with the key as I hurriedly unlocked the door and swung it open, grabbing it and slamming it closed just before the dog made it. Breathing hard, I locked the door and stepped back, my eyes still on the dog.
All that separated us now was some metal and about half an inch of glass.
I could see the dog much clearer then. Its fur was filthy with dust and dirt, and its chest was caked with something dark that I could only hope wasn’t blood. Its eyes were bloodshot and glazed over, and from its mouth dripped saliva, thick and red.
The smell was even stronger at this point, nauseatingly strong.
Whatever was going on with this dog, it was bad. I wasn’t sure of what else to do. Even if I went through the opposite door, there was no way I’d be able to outrun it. I couldn’t make a break for my car because I didn’t have my keys, which were locked in the building alongside my fob and my phone.
No way out, no way to call for help. All I could do was sit and wait in the breezeway. I figured that eventually it would give up on me. It would have to, after all. And I figured once it moved on and was gone, I could haul ass to the highway and hitchhike over to the gas station. Shakily, I sat down, my gaze never leaving the dog. It stood there, watching me, and then it whined.
I say “whined,” but it was more like a long, drawn-out wheeze, like something trying to imitate the whine of a dog instead of doing it. It punctuated the noise with a sickening gurgle, and then it held its head down to hack up a mixture of blood, saliva, and phlegm, spitting it out onto the window before it. It oozed down the glass, leaving a slimy trail behind it, and I had to look away before the sight made me vomit.
I turned my head away from it entirely, trying to steady my breathing. Despite my best efforts, the fear and nausea were about to get the best of me anyway, and I curled in on myself, doing my best to keep everything down. I inched away from the door in favor of the one opposite, trying to put as much distance between myself and the dog as I could. I have no idea how long I stayed like that, curled up into a ball. But when I looked up, the dog was still there, watching me.
I was half-convinced that I was dreaming, or that the situation wasn’t real somehow. How would I even begin to try to convince somebody of what was happening right now? What would I tell my boyfriend? “Sorry, babe, I couldn’t get to the phone last night. Zombie dog and whatnot.” What started as simply a shitty end to the night had managed to turn into the car scene of Cujo, of all things. But the churning in my stomach and the cold biting into my skin was enough to reassure me that this was all very much real. There would be no waking up, no suddenly being pulled back into reality.
I dipped my head back down, trying to convince myself that I would be okay, when I heard its nails scrape against the glass. I jerked my head back up and looked over, inhaling sharply as the dog stood on its hind legs and rested its front ones against the glass. It started to scratch at the glass, trying to claw its way in, and I flinched at the sudden movement, scooting further back. I was all but pressed against the opposite door by this point, unable to keep my eyes off of the dog.
It scratched at the door for a minute longer, stopped, then started to scratch again. Scratch, stop, scratch, stop. This pattern repeated for at least fifteen minutes, and I had almost gotten used to it. The glass was thick enough that I was fairly certain it would withstand the dog’s scratching, and if it didn’t, I figured I wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore after that.
When the noise had become a somewhat tolerable pattern, I curled back up into a ball, hoping to ride out this nightmare of a situation. The noise stopped altogether and I raised my head back up to see what had happened. The dog had turned around and was walking away.
The relief was like a two-ton weight being lifted off of my chest, and I stood up to watch the dog leave. My relief was short-lived, though, when it stopped and turned around. We were once again locked into a staring match.
A pretty common rule with animals is to never look them in the eye. I had been actively avoiding doing just that this entire time, but finally, my gaze slipped down and locked into the dog’s.
There was nothing there. It was empty, like someone had removed the dog’s original eyes and replaced them with glass.
The dog broke out into a sprint again, making me flinch and jump back. As it ran, it staggered and swerved as if it were drunk, but the distance between us was short. Within seconds, it had thrown itself against the glass of the window, slamming its head against it.
I screamed. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I screamed and huddled back in the corner and watched with terror as the dog backed up, ran, and threw itself at the door, over and over again. The door was, fortunately, holding steady. Despite the dog’s repeated attempts, it was standing strong, the only thing that entire night that had done me any good.
The dog was becoming agitated. It gargled and whined as it scratched at the door once again, seeming to give up on throwing itself against the door. I noticed it had injured itself in the process, the skin just above its eye having broken open and its mouth a bloody mess. Blood oozed out of the injuries and dripped onto the ground. Then, it backed up and tried one more time.
The world went silent for the briefest moment, and then there was a sickening crunch.
With its swerving, it must have made a head-on collision with the hinge, or maybe the brick beside the door, because the moment it landed, the dog’s skull busted open from the impact, splattering gore across the window. I screamed again, and this time, the urge to vomit was too strong. I threw up then and there in the corner as the sights and smells became too much for me. I don’t know how long I spent there, on all fours, coughing and gagging as I threw up the contents of my stomach, and when I had nothing left to expel, I dry-heaved.
I collapsed on the ground after that, gasping for air between sobs. I didn’t know if the dog was still alive and at that moment I didn’t really care. I didn’t even realize I had passed out until I heard voices echoing.
When I woke up, I was aware of three things: I was on the floor of the breezeway, there was a horrible taste in my mouth, and that people were talking.
As soon as I woke up, I remembered what had happened. Locking myself out. The dog. My whole body felt like dead weight. Even when my coworkers opened the door and came over to see what was going on, I couldn’t bring myself to stand. I was still afraid if I got up, it’d still be there with its busted skull and rotten stench, pawing and scraping and gurgling.
The smell must have hit my coworkers as well because the moment they stepped in, I could hear the “oh my god”s and “what happened”s. Then, I assume, one of them noticed the gore on the window. That’s when the voices became more frantic, and the more I became aware, the more I could pick out whose voice belonged to whom.
The voice of my coworker Holly was the closest to me. I could feel her hand reach down and shake me. She was calling my name, trying to rouse me, and I did my best to focus solely on her throughout the commotion.
“What is that?!” I recognized the voice of Mertle, who worked in the back and must have spotted the dog.
“Is that a dog? Oh my god, is it dead?” There was Carlos, who had worked the front desk the previous morning and had no doubt come in to do the same today.
Holly was shaking me harder now, and I moved in response just to let her know I was alive. “Eddie, are you okay?” I could hear her asking. I didn’t want to get up, or even respond, but I had no other choice.
I got up, slowly but surely, dragging myself into a sitting position as I opened my bleary eyes. Sure enough, there was Holly, looking back and forth from the window door to me. There was Mertle, hand over her mouth, and Carlos, staring dumbfounded out the window at the dog outside. Everyone was talking all at once, and to me, it was just a massive block of noise. The dog was dead, though. The dog was dead and that, at that moment, was all that mattered to me.
“What the fuck happened?” Carlos suddenly turned around, looking down at me.
The only thing I managed to croak out was “Sorry.”
The rest of that day was a haze to me. I remember going through the motions, but not really being “there”, if that makes any sense. I can remember little details- tossing my shirt in the washing machine in the back because it was covered in vomit, sitting with my manager as he argued with the local animal control to come to collect the dog's body, watching the camera footage of me sprinting across the parking lot with the dog in tow over and over again, like a broken record.
I never did find out what was wrong with that dog. My manager suspected some kind of rabies, but I don’t know.
I quit that job not too long after. The paranoia got too much for me. Any time I would go into the back of the building, where the dogs were, I would get that feeling again. That cold, sinking dread in my stomach that would make me want to hurl. I had to have someone sit up at the front desk with me as I locked the door, as I’d be too scared to go out into the breezeway by myself when it got dark.
It came to a head when a dog got off of its lead and tried to make a bolt for the door, as it usually would. Unfortunately, I had just so happened to be between the dog and the door, and the sight of it running at me sent me into such a panic I collapsed to the ground and shook. After that, I was gone. I don’t think anybody blamed me.
I’ve put it all away in my mind, both the place and the incident. I try not to think about it too much.
I’m always mindful of my keys now, though, just in case.
Prey never stops being prey.