Preschool activities for out like a lamb

So my parents finally had a divorce in 2020. I say "finally" because I saw it coming and honestly wanted them to. They have been fighting for years and other problems made me just want them to get a divorce because the tension was horrible.
They got a divorce because my dad fucked up, but my mom was the one to move out. For years now my mom has told me that if they ever got a divorce she would take me and my brother and we would live happily alone. But because she already found a new partner while the divorce was still in motion, me and my brother did not want to go live with her because she promised it would only be the three of us. It's childish, I know, but me and my brother have been through a lot.
So me and my brother live with my dad now and it's fucking awful. Even though my dad messed everything up he pretends to be the victim. He acts like we have to pity him. He has always had an alcohol problem but ever since the divorce it got worse. He would always say "your mother did this to me". My dad stopped receiving a bonus at work because he's been slacking off and we spiraled down a financial disaster. He actually quit his job a month ago, making me even more worried about our financial situation.
My mom has always done the cooking and cleaning around the house so when she left I had to take over. I taught myself how to do the laundry and I had experience doing the dishes but never liked doing it because it's gross. My cooking was sometimes good but ive never made something disgusting. I always made sure my brother had clean clothes to wear to school and I would even spend the little money I had to buy something if we really needed it. Where I always spent my money for pleasure I now have to use it like an adult.
So, about my dad... Yeah he's acting like the victim but he also acts in charge, and I mean he felt like he was the boss of EVERYTHING. We had to ask permission for things that didn't need permission. We weren't allowed to do the dishes. He would tell us to leave the dishes because he said he would do it. And because we were scared of him, we listened. The dishes would just pile up for days and when I decide I'd had enough I would do the dishes, only to get yelled at afterwards. Other chores and activities would have the same outcome.
We weren't allowed to be sad. If we had a bad day at school and just wanted to stay in our room and be upset, he would for some reason always accuse my mom for being the reason for all sadness. If we had a disagreement about something he would always say "Why don't you go live with your mother!" "Why am I the bad guy?" It's exhausting.
My dad obviously has a smoking and drinking problem. My mom was strict about the smell of smoke in the house but after she left, my dad didn't care and would smoke indoors and his room was full of askes. A teacher even asked me one day if I was smoking because I came to school smelling like smoke. My dad could easily drink 1.5 litres of alcohol everyday. He would start drinking early in the morning untill he went to sleep so he's never sober. It made me and my brother not want to hang out with him, which made my dad mad.
My dad was emotionally abusive. He never physically hurt us, but his words has a huge impact on us. My dad is the cause of our trust issues, our paranoia, and our insecurities.
We are not allowed to make jokes. We are not allowed to have friends over. We are not allowed to go out with friends. We are not allowed to take part in school activities. We are not allowed to be children. We are not allowed to talk seriously with him. We are not allowed to have problems.
I hate my dad, and I'm sure he hates us as well.
I just finished highschool, so you might think I can finally start my own life, but no, I'm not allowed to leave. I'm not allowed to go to uni. I'm not allowed to get a driver's license.
I'm stuck here

Before I even knew what PoTs was I always wished I could travel around in a wheelchair on my bad days, in fact it confused me that nobody else ever mentioned feeling that way.
Anyways… I hit a low that I’d never felt before. I couldn’t stand up without an immediate 140 and I felt like hell. I was going through a short period of feeling well and then a long low period before that, and it really opened my eyes about how you can’t live normally as a potsie even if you try to force it. So I bought a heart/activity tracker, reached out to my cardiologist to hopefully get meds and now I can’t stop thinking about a wheelchair.
If I got one I could go shopping and save both energy and money instead of getting deliveries, how I can save my energy for things that I enjoy. I’m meant to be going to a convention with my mum to support her but I can’t help feeling dread to how I’m going to feel both during it and after.
It’s hard fighting and trying to keep up with healthy people… im sure you guys know. But how do I explain this to my husband? He sees me sitting on the floor all the time, he’s seen my crashes. But he’s also seen me active. He thinks that I’ll become too reliant on the chair and it’ll make my condition worse, surely that’s not true right?

Hi all! Hoping to get some advice or just some clarity because we’ve lost hope in finding a job.
Writing on behalf of my spouse.
Background: PharmD, retail pharmacist, then manager. Entered into the sales world into a big pharma company, however after a reorganization, he was laid off.
Now, 9 months later, still looking for a job. Has applied to hundreds and hundreds of applications. Has fixed his resume using keywords and changing the formats. Nothing has come up or even an interview.
His goal is to break into biotech and would like a remote position, (looking for anything at this point). Prefers remote so he can attend to family as well.
Looking for affairs, MSL, Clincal development etc.
Any tips, or suggestions? (We’ve done like the basics, reaching out to recruiters, changing resumes, active on LinkedIn.)
Thank you in advance!!

“Would you sacrifice yourself to save your entire species?” Carl talked through the intercom in the reactor room as he fiddled with more and more wires. He was looking for a very special wire and a very special place to stick it in. The quiet thunks on the other side of the door quieted down. They had been trying to breach the door for over an hour, and really, it hadn’t done much else but annoy everyone involved. If the aliens on the other side of the door had any humor, Carl would have told them that shoving a cactus in their rectums would have been a better use of everyone’s time.
“Of course I would.” The intercom spat out an answer from the not so professional ‘professional negotiator’. Their offers for Carl to open the door had been promises of great wealth, safety, and accommodations. To be clear, Carl did believe the xeno’s offers, its kind were notorious for being devilishly anal about following the letter AND spirit of agreements. If Carl opened the door, he would most likely receive the benefits and live the rest of his life in comfort.
“Would you sacrifice yourself to save a planet of your people?” Carl had walked over, ripped open, and looked through another set of wires as he spoke to the negotiator. He was glad that the room blocked not only the sight of the ugly bastards, but their stench. Before the war, he’d been on one of their stations. Genetic tampering had been rampant in their culture for millenia, and it meant that their appearance had been turned into a fashion of sorts, though a slowly shifting one. It was too bad that they had apparently taken some very, very strange ideals this time around. Abstraction was the name of the game for them, and Picasso would have been proud of what these aliens had made themselves into. Colors, shapes, and even the smell of their bodies were up for fuckery.
“Of course, would you not?” The alien sounded exasperated, and after the roundabouts Carl had spent the first hour talking to them about, it was no surprise. He was pretty sure that he’d spent at least twenty minutes talking about clowns and cocaine. Carl knew that there were only a few more panels where his prize would be waiting inside of. The ‘red wire’ was randomized in every ship. It was crucial, it was very important to the functioning of the reactor, and by extension, the orbital station. Gravity manipulation wasn’t easy. It wasn’t supposed to be easily found by any normal engineer. Its existence was kept down-low and close to heart. People spilled their hearts out over drinks.
“I’d like to think I would, though you never know until the moment arises. How about a continent? Save a few hundred million for your life?” Another panel down, and no wire to be found. A small notion of doubt had entered Carl’s mind by this point, it was pretty unlikely to not have found THE wire yet. Ten panels down, two to go. He spent a small moment playing eeny meeny miny moe between his two choices. The song said ‘right’. His gut told him to break the rule of the song, however, and he started taking the left one apart.
“If I had to.” And there it was. Carl could see that he had been right about the xenos. Little by little, Carl had started to see why this war had begun in the first place, and why these pricks would eventually lose it all. They had none of that go get em attitude to offset their bulging egos. They expected everyone they met to work off of a calculated list of pros and cons. Everything action should be explainable by numbers, logic, and personal gain. Though even they had a small sense of collective good, not much, but a little.
“How about a city, let's say. . . 5 million people?” Carl just wanted to know how the negotiator’s personal scale weighed life. He felt like he was getting real close to the creature’s balance point. He also knew that the negotiator was grasping at straws to get the ‘illogical and unpredictable’ human to open the door for the xenos. If the negotiator was a human, they’d be ordering every type of explosive to blast the door before Carl could finish cooking up his plan. Carl took all the joy he could from the situation. He honestly felt like Bugs Bunny in the moment, the other side was simply so, so fucking dense to his plans. They’d probably hold a wrench for him if he just quickly opened the door and told them to. Fucking xenos.
“Hmmm, I would.” Carl had found the special wire that he’d been searching for. It wasn’t red, but it was as thick as his forearms. He carefully inserted a wire of his own into a joint on the wire, making very sure that it was attached properly. He wanted the following moments to have some theatrical value. Something to really talk about in whatever afterlife there was or wasn’t.
The intercom started buzzing for a moment, but he quickly screamed at the top of his lungs into the transmitter to shut the xeno up before it could start talking again.
Carl had his own monologue to get through while he dragged the massive wire across the room.
“You people work with variables and numbers so much more than we do, you’ve certainly realized that by now. You’ve had to really sweeten the deal you originally offered me and STILL nothing. We must be a very interesting debate subject in your universities. A statistical curiosity that befuddles the known models and expected values.”
“And you really fucked up when you thought we were almost like you. You saw our math, you saw our logical arguments, and you thought us to be mirrors of you. The problem with that is that we sent the people most like you to talk to you. Not a good decision for either of us. Good thing for us is that even our people who most resemble you are still human. They told you to fuck off real fast when you gave them a spreadsheet of expected taxes, exports, and laws. You started the war because we gave you more shit than your asses could handle.”
“AND THEN you tried to handle the war like it was a particularly ornery business meeting. You still are. I have been holed up with the MAIN REACTOR CORE for more than an hour. I have been insulting you, playing dumb, playing smart, and talking about SACRIFICING YOURSELF for most of that time. Why, most humans would have BLOWN UP with rage after all the shit I’ve been pulling. The situation would have gone CRITICAL if you had any sense.”
“It’s like you want this all to come CRASHING DOWN.”
“But hey, don’t worry about that, would you sacrifice yourself out of a personal vendetta against a single individual? No lives saved, nothing particularly impressive gained, really just an all in all stupid thing to do. Would you?” Carl was holding the door open switch in one hand, and the special switch in another. For him the scene would end in what he expected to be a very bright light. But there was a bit of foreplay to be had before going all in.
“No, of course not, that would not be good for anybody.” The slamming on the door started again, it was impressively fast, but still useless. Carl pressed the switch as far as he dared before he felt it teeter on the very, very edge of activation. He smiled and thought of the last good steak he’d had, some months ago now.
“On the contrary my friend, why if you only add spite, revenge, and everything sweet to your little calculations, you’d know that it would be very good indeed.” Carl pressed the door open switch and watched as four shapes crashed through and fell on the floor. A fifth one peeked through the doorway. Carl waved at him with the fun switch.
“My favourite explosives are flashbangs.” Carl twitched his thumb just the tiniest bit, and the reactor started to laugh in response. The reactor’s laugh was very quickly getting louder, so Carl had to yell at the very top of his lungs to get the last part across to the negotiator.
“ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY HAVE A LOT OF BANG IN THEM!!!”
The reactor thought this comment was especially funny, and broke down in laughter.
The light was red.
This one was very fun to write, I am not good with writing serious stuff, but I think I do a good job with using expressive language and shitting out references.
I hope you enjoyed reading!

Hi!
I live on the US east coast but want to frequent trips to Toronto. I love that city and recently visited and plan to visit a few more times this year. I would love to meet someone and be able to spend time with them during my visits to go around and explore, visit some staples, and have fun! Hoping to find someone with similar interests but also have interests of their own that I can learn about and also support.
About me:
I'm a creative-type. I'm an artist who also does photography and design. I love to cook, enjoy films, I play music (piano); I also practice martial arts and like to keep active. I have a bigger build (tall with broad shoulders) but I'm a pretty gentle person. I'm genuine and I try to stay optimistic and am always supportive of those I care about. Respectful and down to earth, laid-back but passionate and ambitious: I have a lot of aspirations and personal projects and goals that I make time to accomplish, even if it's a small piece at a time, bit by bit. I also enjoy some geeky things like old-school anime, casual gaming, and comics. I've been more into visual novel indie games, I play games of all sorts but mostly on my Switch (Mario Kart, anyone?)
Who I'm looking for (or close to):
Between 25-36 years old. Single (Not looking to be in a poly relationship) Open, communicative, affectionate and kind. I do prefer someone who is regularly physically active and health-conscious -- so we can support each other's goals and be healthy together. If you're also into gaming or nerdy things (comics, anime, cons), a foodie, like movies, or a fellow creative, we'll get along great! Mostly, I'm hoping to find someone to spend time together with to work on our own cool stuff together, chat with about interests and our days, and checking out new things with each other, too.
Send me a message and tell me what sort of things you're into and what's the next thing you're looking forward to!
Let's chat!

From my Fetlife. Prepare for cringefest. Tell me your thoughts about my cringe.
Hello, everyone. I'd like to introduce myself to you.
Ever since I turned 20, I've been dreaming of becoming another woman's housewife (or, as I like to say, a "wifey"), but I've never exactly known how to make it become a reality. I've always been an extremely submissive person and life hasn't treated me very well both for being like that and for trying not to be like that. I score extremely highly in agreeableness and I take great pleasure in serving those I care for. Specifically and preferably, a woman I love and who also loves me. Today, I'm looking for a romantic, ordinary and 100% monogamous relationship with a woman, but one that includes the element of dominance and submission and the possibility of me being her full-time housewife. While she works, I take care of the house. When she comes home, I take care of her. Always very lovingly and completely given to her body and soul as well as to the household's domestic duties. In practice, I want to be the woman in the relationship. I want to go far beyond the basics such as cooking and cleaning: I want to be responsible for doing her nails, her make-up and giving her massages whenever she wants them. I want to learn to cook everything she likes to eat. Maybe even learn gardening to take care of her plants. Perhaps the origin of this is an innate need of mine to be necessary and useful to someone and I guess that is how it is.
Inevitably, I believe this relationship would also include elements of platonic worship. The reason for this is that I have always harboured an adoration for the female figure, the female energy, the female essence and the female appearance. None of this is sexual. In fact, I feel that this element of platonic worship is so strong that I would even feel uncomfortable seeing my dominating partner naked because it would make me feel the same dirty lust for her that I'd feel for porn actresses when I'd watch their movies and I feel that this would be disrespectful to her and to what her image represents to me. This adoration for the female figure is also one of the reasons for my gender transition, which began in September of 2023. I admire the feminine image so much that I want to make it a part of me. I don't like being a man, looking like a man, being treated like a man, behaving like a man and, God fobid, dealing with masculine gender roles. I have an enormous need to feminize my gender expression because that's what makes me happy.
For reasons that are far beyond my control and that may sound cheesy, I always end up seeing women whom I find beautiful to be superior to me. Not in a bad way, but simply in a kind of hierarchy where I'm below them. So, for some reason, I feel fulfilled imagining myself serving them in a completely devoted way. In a way, I can sum myself up as a human Golden Retriever in terms of loyalty, perhaps to pathological levels. Such a level of unexplored and repressed loyalty that I can easily imagine myself getting so deeply involved with the right woman and creating an emotional bond so indestructible that I would go as far as burying a body with her without giving it a second thought. It's as if there were a hurricane inside me waiting for the ideal conditions to form and destroy everything in its path to reach its goal. My goal is domestic servitude within a romantic relationship and this storm inside me will only grow larger and larger over time. I don't see much value in ordinary work as in working for a company. I only see meaning and purpose in domestic work in a relationship for and with a woman I love with great obedience, dedication, submission and gratitude. I don't see myself as a leader, but as someone to be led.
I come from a place where I suffered a lot of verbal abuse directed at my appearance for being too thin and I see that the world today is full of evil people with an evil intent who get off at doing evil things and also of people who omit themselves when they observe evil being done and end up becoming accomplices by omission. All of this makes me really want to put myself in a kind of safe space with someone trustworthy where I don't have to be constantly watching over my shoulder in order to check whether there already are vultures circling me from above waiting for the ideal moment to pounce. I look like an easy victim for predators and I've always attracted them without any difficulty, unfortunately. I am soft and highly sought by them. I want to be able, if only for a few hours, to let my guard down completely knowing that I'm not in danger and that I'm with someone well-intending who, at worst, doesn't wish me harm and, at best, actively cares about my well-being. In other words, a relationship like any other. I very much want and like the idea of giving myself body and soul to a woman who has consideration for me, for whom I have value and who is in charge of the relationship (FLR). As I said, I want to put myself in a situation of total vulnerability in a controlled and safe environment with a person I can trust and who means well. I want to put myself below them in every situation and always put them before myself unconditionally. I want to live under domestic servitude, as well as having a romantic, ordinary, monogamous relationship like any other. If there's no love, there's no point. I can't explain exactly what I feel, but I see this dynamic as the most honest way I can express love to my owner, mistress and friend. This is the rawest and most sincere manifestation of my personality. And please don't get me wrong: I'm not here trying to "cure" myself through BDSM or draw attention to myself by talking about my problems that nobody cares about. I'm just putting all this into context and explaining objective reality as it is, that's all.
I have no idea how I'm going to fulfill this dream and where I'm going to find this woman. I see a lot of profiles here of dommes who are only in it for fetishistic reasons and to make money and that makes me a little sad. But I understand, since a relationship can end up being a very big responsibility and many women don't want this kind of burden in their lives. Not to mention that the temptation of financial gain must be too great for them not to take advantage of. And in an economy like this, I think it will be considerably difficult to find a woman who will want to keep someone at home without generating income just taking care of the household chores. The odds don't seem to be in my favor and the entire setting seems less than ideal.
I feel disgusted by and abhor any fetish scenario that involves the element of being a housewife, maid and the like, especially if it includes elements of humiliation for carrying out such activity. I understand that for some it can be pleasurable, but for me it's despicable. I can't associate being a housewife with something humiliating and if that's your intention with me, don't get in touch. As for sexual activity in general in a relationship, I don't have much to say. Hormone replacement therapy completely obliterated my libido and I see no purpose in any activity that promotes my sexual pleasure. To all intents and purposes, I've become somewhat asexual. I'd accept being penetrated by my domme if she wanted to, since I'd put her wishes before my own, but I feel it's hardly something I'd ask for. I'm much more interested in the emotional side of the relationship than the sexual.
Still on the subject of sexuality, I feel that the word "virgin" isn't accurate enough to describe myself. This word is used to refer to people who have never had sex, which is my case, but I've also never had any other intimate experience with a woman. It's not that I've never had sex, I've never even hugged a woman in bed. I've barely experienced any degree of intimacy with a woman before. I suppose this complete lack of sexual experience will be viewed in a very bad light by the women I seek, but I don't think there's much I can do about it. I have no interest in having these first experiences with, for example, a prostitute because I'm looking for a real emotional connection in a legitimate relationship. I'm a romantic and I have no choice but to wait.
I can't imagine a life in which I allow this dream not to come true. It can't not happen. If it doesn't, I'll have an extremely bitter deathbed full of regrets.
When it comes to the woman I'm looking for, I only have three demands: don't be a drug user (cigarretes included), be a gentle domme and unconditionally monogamous.
My gratitude for you will be eternal and my debt to you unpayable.
I hope the woman I'm looking for is out there waiting to be found.
kool4kats hi, what ya think?

Hey all,
Below are my personal thoughts and my understanding of the structure of existence. I am not sure if this is correct or not as per what it actually is and/or what Bashar says and explains it is so I am seeking to understand that and get the correct answer to what and how it actually is. I am seeking to understand this and how it pertains to us humans and I have posted my questions regarding this which I am seeking answers to underneath my understanding.
My Understanding:

1. From the biggest picture/highest level, there is existence, which is one thing, with infinite potential, and without a how or a why, it just is. This is existence, this is the One, this is God. (I would say this is Bashar's 1st law of creation, you exist.)
   1. For the sake of example, imagine a circle which is this existence/the One/God. And now for the sake of just this first point and to allow the next few points to build on top of each other, imagine that this circle just exists with that infinite potential but nothing is happening, it's just frozen and standstill, just pure potential.
2. The One is always "doing" something so there is the concept of "happening" or "change" or "activity" which is that there is always something happening/changing with/to it. In other words, the infinite potential is always being realized and not just sitting there as standstill potential. This also means that everything is in the present only in the here and now only as things are only happen-"ING" and/or chang-"ING". This is just physics, there is no actual past or future and no such thing as time, only the present and now because there is essentially just this one thing which is just doing things. Do-"ING", Happen-"ING", Chang-"ING", present tense. (I would say this is Bashar's 5th and 2nd laws of creation, everything is changing and it's all here and now. Additionally though, I would say this is also Bashar's 4th law of creation, what you put out is what you get back, because the One (which is "you") is "doing" and all this happening/change is just the One's doing so whatever exists within existence within the one and whatever "is" is a result of the One's doing. So essentially whatever it does, is what is, and whatever is, is what it does, or in other words, figuratively speaking, whatever the one puts out is what it gets back.)
   1. So now the circle has happening/change/activity to/with it where potential is being realized and isn't just a frozen potential thing with nothing happening, the One is now doing things to/with itself out of it's infinite potential, things are changing, things are happening and again the potential is being realized.
3. Through this happening/changing/activity, the One thing with infinite potential, has made itself into many "things" and everything that is, but still all are One and within/of the One. All these things ultimately are the One itself because it is the One that has turned "itself" into these, they all come from the One, exist within the One, or better yet they ARE the One. So everything is really just one thing, the same thing, in different forms/perspectives and the one thing is everything. (I would say this is Bashar's 3rd law of creation, the One is the All and the All are the One.)
   1. The circle now instead of being just one thing with frozen infinite potential where nothing else exits and nothing is happening, is now one thing with happening/change/activity with/to it's infinite potential which is now being realized and the result/byproduct of that is everything that exists, everything that is. All this is still one thing but it is now ALL this (potential realized) that is the One thing with happening/change/activity and not just One thing that is nothing else but that one thing with frozen infinite potential and no happening/change/activity and no realization of it's potential. I know my example of the One with frozen infinite potential and no happening/change/activity and no realization of it's potential as part of my analogy isn't actually a real thing, I'm just using it for the analogy/step by step explanation.

My Questions:

1. What I have shared above, is that the same as what Bashar is saying and is it accurate about the structure of existence? If not please let me know/correct me.
2. How and why is the One doing things in the first place? I know there's no how or why to the existence of the One or better yet to existence itself and it just is, but is there a how and why to the happening/change/activity of existence itself? How is this happening, and why is this happening? Why doesn't it just exist and nothing is happening?
3. Are laws 4 and 5 intertwined in a way? What you put out is what you get back and change is always happening aside from the structure (first 4 laws).
   1. What I mean by that is, the One (all of existence, all of consciousness) is always doing happening/change/activity in this structure and whatever becomes or "is" in this existence/structure is ultimately a result of whatever it (the One) does or "puts out". So the happening/change/activity comes from us itself (the One, all of existence, not just us humans) and whatever that happening/change/activity does or results in is what will be, whatever we put out, is what we will get back. Whatever we do, is what is. So because the One exists (law 1), and it's always doing things (law 5), and doing these things in the present (law 2), and these "doings" have results (law 4), what we now have is the One creating many things (law 3), is this correct and is what you put out what you get back just saying that whatever change happens will have a corresponding result so whatever the one does will have an aligned result?
4. Do we humans have limitations or do we humans have infinite potential as well?
   1. In existence everything is possible as there is infinite potential but to me it feels like humans are a creation of that infinite potential in such a way where we have limitations. I mean I can't just at the snap of my finger grow wings on my back, or spawn a dog in my room, or completely change my physical appearance such as my skin color, hair, nose, height, etc., or turn my friend into a bug, or make the sun explode, etc.
5. Why does Bashar's 5th law say that everything changes except the first 4 laws, why isn't it everything changes except the 5 laws? Does that mean that there will be a point in time where there will no longer be change and/or the 4 laws themselves can change? If the 5th law says everything changes except the first 4 laws then doesn't that imply that the 5th law can change and then that means there can be a stop to all change and also the first 4 laws can change?
6. If the One is everything and it's doing all the "change" and everything is just the one itself in different forms and perspectives, are we humans just a part of the change since we have the ability to "do"/"change" things? In other words, we have free will since the One is in control of everything and we are just extensions of the One so we have certain abilities/potential but not all meaning we have limitations and there are things we can do, but also things that we can't do which are being done by other "things" in existence which are also the One. To put it simply, the One is doing everything and if everything is just the One then everything is doing things and everything's "doing" is all collectively all the change in existence. This would mean that we humans have limitations to what we can do and all the "change" in existence is just each individual thing in existence (not just humans but EVERYTHING) itself "doing" things which it can do and all of this together makes up all the constant "change" in existence.

Hi, I'm in California. So we found out that one of our Windows is damaged bad and has mold and stuff. So they got to rip it out and do a bunch of stuff and basically they just need to do legitimate repairs that require their apartment to be vacated. That's not the problem. The problem is they booked the hotel without notifying us and without Us agreeing to it or anything like that. We didn't know until they told us it was booked. That's not really my main problem but I do want to know if that was even legal or I guess if it was taboo even if it's legal. Just cuz I feel like that was messed up. But whatever a hotel it is... But now we find out the day before we're supposed to be out of here that the hotel has fees for pets And at check-in we were told we were expected to pay and it's $40 per pet per day. We're expected to stay at this hotel for 10 days at least and we have three pets and we straight up Can't afford that out of nowhere like this. So I'm just wondering mainly what should I do? We texted and called but we can't right now Get in contact with the landlord to discuss this and it is the day before we have to be out of here. Can we legally just refuse to leave tomorrow? I'm willing to leave the apartment and be vacant while they do repairs, but can we come back at night when they're not actively working to sleep? Can we just refuse at the door if we can't get into contact with the landlord by tomorrow? Do they have to cover these fees and they're just not and it's illegal? We just don't really know what going on or what we can do as residents. I want this construction done and I'm am willing to vacat but not with those fees and if we can't stay at that hotel then we'll have to come back at night to sleep.

I'm an active cycler on my peloton bike at home, and I've noticed since taking Prozac 40mg that it seems to take considerable more effort to actually get my heart rate up.... If 6 months ago my heartrate was 158bpm for a 45 minute peleton ride, now it might be 143 or something. Today it was 138bpm. I find that 30-40 minutes in my heart rate is finally reaching 150-160 where it normally used to be for the ENTIRE workout.
Yet I feel like with my metrics in terms of resistance, speed, it's all stayed the same, no changes in terms of going hardeeasier.
I couldn't find the post but I once did see people here discussing that it seemed to take more effort and more from them to get their heart rate up working out, but couldn't find the post. Just wanted to see if anyone has any similar experiences!

Hey Reddit,
I don’t normally post like this—hell, I never post with my porn account—but I’m especially lost right now. Two years ago, I got into a doctoral program for English lit, thinking it was what I wanted for my career. I’ve always excelled in school, so grad school would be a cinch! I got BAs in English and Creative Writing during undergrad, and it was some of the most rewarding work I’ve ever done. Grad school has been two years of (what feels like) a continuous mental health crisis, and today I may have wasted my last chance to get out with a degree.
I’ve dealt with anxiety and depression my entire life (medicated for six years), but after moving away to school, I very quickly spun off the rails. I was the furthest from home I had ever been, away from family and friends and my support network. My relationship with booze and weed, which had been casual, became habitual. I’m not the most social person to begin with, but the isolated lifestyle of grad school made it worse than I could have imagined. The only friends I had were in my cohort, and their being somewhere in between coworker and friend made it difficult to speak with them candidly about my struggles. After all, they had the same workload that I did, so complaining felt stupid, and sharing the extent of how bad shit had gotten seemed like it would be a one-way ticket to a grippy socks vacation.
Frankly, I should probably have gone on that vacation. I could still use one. There hasn’t been a day gone by since, like, October 2022 that I haven’t thought about killing myself. Most of the time it isn’t active, just your typical ideation like “Oh, grad school makes me want to die lol.” One of my favorite recurring ideations is hurling myself into an industrial woodchipper like in Fargo—it’s so ridiculously violent that it usually snaps me right out of my funk. Where would I even find an industrial woodchipper?
It’s gotten worse lately though. This winter was bad. I’d fantasize about finding the nearest Wal-mart and exercising my constitutional right to purchase a firearm, driving to one of the many nearby beautiful state parks that I was never able to find time to go visit during the semester, and blowing my brains out. When I realized that I needed to give my family some plausible deniability for my suicide so they could grieve my loss rather than my decision, I’d fantasize instead about “losing control” on the highway. I hoped the seatbelt would take my head and launch it straight out the windshield. Or I’d fantasize about pulling a Christopher Supertramp and just leaving without warning to fuck off and die in the woods—not violently, but by something that looked natural. God, what I wouldn’t give to be devoured by a bear.
All of these options were moot though, as I was too anxious to leave my house and drive for groceries for the entirety of March and April. Can’t drive yourself off a bridge if you’re too afraid to drive. Fret not though, friends—I’m back home with family now, stable and safe, and I no longer feel the pull of the void quite so strongly as I did at school.
Anyways, the workload was like nothing I had experienced in undergrad, and even though I knew it was going to be a lot of work, I thought I could keep up.
I was wrong.
I really gave it my best effort that first semester. I prepped each class I taught as a TA excessively, answered student emails within five minutes of receiving them. I started every other day with an anxiety vomit, but I went to class. I did my best to read everything assigned to me. I threw myself at Foucault and Derrida and fuckin Homi Bhabha and the 40 other opaque critical theorists they had us read, and I struggled through them to the best of my ability, but I never seemed to be on the same page as anyone else, so I found it more and more difficult to speak up in class until I stopped speaking entirely. Still, I wrote the 75 pages of critical writing they assign to us in the last week of the semester. I barely slept and hardly ate. I wrote what I thought they wanted, did my best to model myself after what we had read.
They told me that my efforts were disappointing, that my work “barely qualified” as critical writing. I think part of me died when I got that feedback. I got the impression, at least from the instructor who told me I barely qualified, that I had disrespected them on a professional and personal level. I come from a creative writing background, so I tend to inject personality and voice into whatever I write. Both my peers and other faculty I’ve discussed this feedback with agree that the paper (while definitely not fully formed) did not warrant that level of harshness, but it broke something in me.
I kept up for most of the second semester, but by the time those end-of-semester essays rolled around, I felt a writer’s block like I had never felt before. It wasn’t the sort that went away if I forced myself to write through it, like every other time I’d felt the block before. No, this was debilitating. I was paralyzed. I tried chipping away at it, and I tried tricking myself into writing by telling myself I was just taking notes. None of my old tricks worked, even that time-honored tradition of putting my back to the wall by waiting until the deadline and writing manic, anxiety-fueled bullshit. Every time I had ever faced something like this before—a mountain of writing that I didn’t want to do—I eventually slipped into gear and got it done.
It didn’t happen. For the first time in my life, I didn’t complete a final essay. I just couldn’t force myself to give a fuck. I couldn’t give a fuck about my work, about my grades, about my reputation at the university, about my future career, about my future continued existence. At some point, I became apathetic to my life and the world around me, but still, I pressed on because it was the only thing I thought I could do. One does not just get accepted into a fully-funded graduate program every day, you know, and I’d never forgive myself if I gave up on it so quickly. That’s what I was told, at least. Beyond that, I didn’t want to disappoint my friends and family and everyone who helped me get to grad school.
So I stuck with it, finished the essay and came back after the summer, and after forcing myself through the fall semester, I didn’t complete two final essays. My untreated burnout got worse. Imagine that! At the beginning of this semester, I made the decision to drop from the PhD track, cut my losses and get an MA. All I needed to do was finish one course this semester, one measly 25 page essay about the fucking kinetoscope, but I couldn’t do it. All I did this past semester was smoke myself stupid, play video games, and wish that I was dead. I spent months lying to my parents and my therapist, telling them both that while everything wasn’t fine, I was persevering and making progress. I’ve shared a little with my mom, now that I’m home and shit’s gone sideways, but all she did was cry and ask if I need to be taken to the ER. Nobody wants to make mom cry, and the last thing I fucking want is medical debt.
My deadline—the “missing this deadline will result in dismissal from the program” deadline—was today at noon, and I missed it. I have ten pages written, and I could finish it today if my brain wasn’t fucking broken, but instead I’ve written a confession to Reddit. I’ve emailed my DGS and will hear his verdict tomorrow morning, but honestly? I could fight for it, but don’t think I care anymore. I’ve been suffering for two years, and I don’t know if a master’s degree is worth it. This degree won’t make me happy—my depression brain says that nothing will, but I know that isn’t true. I wanted the MA so I could teach at a community college because that feels much closer to praxis than jerking off to Frantz Fanon until I get tenure, but I’m not even sure if I like teaching or if it was just the least of all evils I had to deal with as a grad student. (Lowkey, Fanon is probably the way to go if we’re jerking off to critical theorists, but I digress)
So Reddit, what do I do with my life? I’m a 25 year old burn out who 1) may have just lost their big shot at a slightly less worthless degree than the one they got in undergrad 2) just moved back in with their parents to a dead-end Midwest town 3) has few marketable skills and little job experience because they’ve been in academia hell for two years 4) has not had a relationship in even longer than that and 5) is generally a/pathetic.
Ending it isn’t on the table, so what do I do? Has anyone here gone through something like this? How can I rediscover my lust for life and letters? Where have you found your passion?
EDIT: forgot you needed two returns between paragraphs

Hello, I am a “ 20F “ and I have a man that I am interested in. We are dating and currently our communication is through social media apps and calls. He has started ignoring me to the point where he doesn't talk to me for days, even though he is active on social media. When I asked him why he doesn't respond to my messages quickly, despite being online, he said he is busy and has consecutive exams. I have given him space, but he hasn't reached out to me yet, even though he is 85% active on unofficial social media platforms like Instagram, where he posts things indicating that he is not busy as he describes. I have been ignoring him for a while, as he did to me, and he refers to the things he's busy with on Instagram as important matters, such as creating groups and chatting with "guys like him" while joking and laughing with them.
I have certainly given him space, but it has been 5 days and he hasn't even asked about my well-being. What does that mean, and what should I do?
TL;DR : We are currently communicating through communication programs and he no longer speaks to me despite his connection to the Internet and his constant posting. He has not spoken to me for 5 days.

I've got an idea to write a fantasy story featuring an abusive relationship which portrays the abuser in a sympathetic light. I took inspiration from a certain adult animated series which I felt portrayed abuse with no nuance, which I want to correct.
There are two fairy folk royals-Brendan and Brynhild-who are in an arranged diplomatic marriage. Brendan is the great-grandnephew of queen Titania while Brynhild is a princess from a svartalf kingdom in Svartalfheim.
Their royal houses were at war for centuries before making peace, and to seal the alliance their parents decided to marry their children. The marriage comes with a magical pact which stipulates that both parties have to appear like a perfect and happy couple in the eyes of fairy society.
Unfortunately, Brendan and Brynhild turned out to be incompatible personality-wise, and both are essentially trapped in a loveless marriage where each has to live a lie, but they deal with it differently. While Brynhild is introverted and withdrawn, Brendan is a social butterfly-gregarious, affable and loves parties, though he uses them as a distraction from how lonely he feels, being unable to share his true feelings with anyone.
From Brynhild's perspective she got the rougher end of the deal-she has to live outside of her home-realm Svartalfheim and was forced to adapt to a very different culture and environment. Her husband's cheerfulness grates on her nerves and she resents his outward happiness, so she takes it out on him through outburst of verbal and physical abuse.
Later on, Brendan abducts two human children, replacing them with changelings to keep as company. He erased their memories of their human lives and made them believe that he is their father. He does feel real affection for them, but views them more like how a human would view a puppy than people.
The children are the real protagonists of the story which will deal with them discovering their past, regaining their memories and trying to escape, aided by Brynhild who plans to use them to get rid of Brendan.
Brendan and Brynhild were sort of stand-ins for Stella and Stolas from Helluva Boss, but if they were better-written in my opinion.
The point I want to make is that both are massively flawed people who are that way because of the toxic environment.
In my opinion, writing an abuser as a sympathetic character is a challenge because it challenges you to confront the idea that people who've done harmful things are still people and not monsters, which is something I feel is very mature, in contrast to Stella's characterization. As for Brendan, he's sympathetic but a horrible person too from a certain perspective, but for an understandable reason.
He's selfish and cares the most about his own happiness without noticing what anyone else feels, has poor understanding of boundaries but isnt actively cruel so hes still more sympathetic than his wife.
I want to add a touch of complexity to their abusive marriage by establishing that Brynhild has a more human sense of morality than Brendan. She is horrified with the idea of kidnapping children and brainwashing them, and genuinely wants to help the kids, not only out of a desire to get rid of her husband but true compassion.
While sympathetic abusive characters have been done before, for example Beatrice Butterman from Bojack Horseman, I wonder if my choice to make Brynhild more morally upright in comparison to Brendan would be too much.
I want to ask if its possible to write a story with an abuser who is not only shown in a sympathetic light, but also has good reasons for disliking their victim yet not being abuse apologism?
I don't plan on excusing Brynhild's abuse itself, instead I intend to portray someone who is coping badly in a terrible situation.

(Sorry for the delay)
"The Disney Corporation has been around longer than most, even alien corps rarely last more than two hundred years before regulation, competition, or innovation eventually figures out a way to wipe them out. Not Disney though, Disney is Eternal." I gesture for the screen to pause like they showed me.
This is the third woman named some variety of Tiffany I'm watching the package on. Tiphany, and Tiffeneigh were before this. It seems like praising Disney corporation was the secret to getting through the AI hiring algorithm, also being phonetically named Tiffany or something really close to it.
The Disney Corp executive producer that Captain Tanner introduced to me to is an android. I always assumed they'd be more... human looking, but apparently there are laws against that sort of thing now. Galactic government, glad to hear it has enough power to enforce things even on Disney corp. This thing looks like a T-800 terminator, but it has a cheery voice that sounds vaguely British to me in a way I can't quite pin down. It seems to have sensed my discomfort at this task.
"It is important that you personally approve of each potential mate. We wish for this process to be enjoyable and more importantly, profitable for everyone involved. Focus groups have told us that Phonetic Tiffany named women will likely help most with that secondary objective. Surely a man of your time wouldn't have issue with such a name."
I had to laugh, "That name's far older than my time. But okay, so it'll make us the most money to have her be named Tiffany somehow. Fine, I'm fine with that." I am, right? Fine enough. Whatever gets me out of this time and into a better future seems worth it.
I finished watching Tiffany's Video, and watch Typhuny next. Then Tiophughny. Then Taoifenieh. Then I lost it. They were all so the same. Slight variations in hair color and skin tone or eye color, but these women were all essentially clones of each other.
"THATS IT! I can't take another one of these." It was too weird. "I thought the Captain said there were Aliens out there, Is that part at least a little star trek like? Aren't there alien women that want to romance rich famous humans?"
The Producertron-800 made a noise like an ancient modem connecting to the internet for a moment. I must have had a look on my face, because it said, "Do not be alarmed, I am only contacting Disney corp headquarters on my internal high speed quantum Modem."
"Not alarmed, surprised." I guess it's the same thing, really. "You just, sounded like an old modem for a moment. So what does headquarters say, can I try to romance an alien woman too?"
"This will be even more profitable than if you try with human women." replied the Disney Rep.
Captain Tanner went over the contract, and set out some objectives to get a few changes made. I trusted him and approved him to be my representative in those negotiations with Disney. I had apparently made him and his ancestors rich, and myself as well. He didn't have any reason to treat me poorly. In fact it was in his own selfish interest to treat me well, and if there anything I knew I could count on from the people of this time, was that most of them would selfishly act in their own interest.
The Doctor had been taking me to meals. He was a rare weirdo in this time, charitable, kind, expected nothing in return. Probably helped that he was also the beneficiary of some ancient bank accounts and compound interest.
After a week of hanging out on the HSS Davis-Catcher, yes, a ship made specifically to catch me and the Zipdrive, I was sent to the set for the space bachelor. It was another ship in space. We took a shuttle.
The captain had done a good job in his negotiations, only humanoid aliens and a couple of human women. There was a cat-folk person. A Felidian, as I learned they are called. I wasn't a huge anime guy before becoming an astronaut, but I calls them like I see's them. That's a catgirl. Her name is Tiffnyany.
I felt bad for not being attracted to one of the other aliens. Terraphiny was a really sweet Turtle-person, a Cyptrondian Testudian. She could pull her head inside her shell, and watching her get comfortable enough to put it out and talk was kind of super adorable. They're a pretty literal people, and don't use euphemisms often or well. I liked her as a person, she was fun to hang out with sure but... I couldn't do it when she ask me if I wanted "To get up inside her cloaca" one night in the hot tub. Surprisingly huge turn off. I apologized profusely for my ancient old-timey racism. She told me it was fine, I was a product of a different time... but man that only made it cut deeper. I felt like such an asshole. But we were contractually obligated to 'engage in newly wed activities' during the next two hundred years, or what would be our wedding night, I just couldn't with Turtle girl.
In the end, I gave the diamondillium rose to Tiffnyany. She was also lots of fun to spend time with. Unlike the reality shows of my time, the producers did not have to interfere for there to be juicy drama. One of the other women on the show, the first to go, was a dog-person. She and the catgirl got into a fight, and it was determined that she started it, and she was kicked off. Later, the catgirl almost killed what I am going to generously call a bird with lips that had been taunting her for days. They let me decide who would stay, and bird lady had to go.
Six weeks had flown by, and somehow I had ended up with what I would have derisively called a catgirl waifu two months ago from my perspective. The wedding was a whole giant spectacle, of Disney proportions. I hear over ten billion sapient beings tuned in live.
In the eight weeks since I had arrived in this time time they had gone far beyond a 'retrofit' for my Zipdrive ship. Nyany, as I learned she preferred to be called but I couldn't legally call her on the show, and I boarded the ship. Captain Tanner was there, so was the doc. Captain tanner went over all the new systems with me and Nyany. Part of why I chose her was that she was a warp field engineer, and absolutely brilliant. One of the human women was a quantum computer programmer, but If we ended up in a future that sucked, I'd want an engineer more than a programmer.
Nyany was far more comfortable at the ship's controls than I was, though contractually I had to be the one to pilot us to the starting position when we launched from space dock. I also had to be the one to push the big shiny red button to activate the updated and upgraded Zipdrive. It was now the RarDrive. Apparently this version worked on the same principles but didn't leak high levels of exotic radiation in it's wake. Probably worth the upgrade.
What felt like an eternity in a fever dream was coming to an end, I was aboard a ship again that would take me from this time. The doctor gave us both a couple of injections before we launched. "That'll probably work. You two oughta be able to have kids now. Gene therapy tech is really the best."
I hadn't even considered that as a possibility. "Shit doc, why did you give us that?"
"It's in your contract," Captain Tanner said. "Subsection 3 of this part here, 'Newly-wed activities must include the threat of potential pregnancy', for maximum profit extraction purposes, of course. We got three points for me and my firm and seven for you and Misses Davis.
"I didn't take his name." Nyany said, "In our culture men take the women's name. We decided to both keep our own. I am still Tiffnyany Pantigris."
"Systems check complete, and the contract is ready for each of your thumbprints, then we'll get out of your hair and let you get on with the honeymoon." The captain had a smile on his face, a business deal that's beneficial to all is a rare thing, and he's enjoying it while he can.
"Probably best to try to forget about us out there watching your every move." The doctor said as he packed up his kit and made his way to the docking port to take the shuttle back.
We moved into position, all the press ships and camera flashes a guy could want greeted us. With Nyany sitting behind me quietly whispering guidance to me I pulled us into position and waited for the countdown from Captain Tanner on his ship.
Finally it got down to "Three, Two, One. Godspeed, Captain Davis!"
The drive exploded us through the rainbow, painfully bright. I had had the foresight to warn my bride that it would hurt to witness, but be beautiful all the same. When it was done we were given the soft shimmery golden light that I experienced outside the ship the first time.
I'm sure you want the gritty kitty details of our nuptial situation, but you gotta pay extra for that. What I will tell you though is that we fulfilled out contractual obligations. Also, a satisfied catgirl will purr as she lays on your chest afterward. I dunno if I made trillions during that time, but I sure felt like a trillion bucks.
The honeymoon day that took two hundred years was over all too soon.
The same long dead woman's voice chimed onto the speakers.
"Nine."
"Eight."
.
.
.
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
We slammed through the rainbow again, only in reverse order of yesterday's launch two hundred years ago.
There were no fireworks this time, no heroes greeting. Only a singular massive grey slab of an obvious warship waiting for us.
They hailed and I answered. "Greetings Capitalist pigdog of the past. You are under arrest for crimes against the regime. Prepare to be boarded."
I looked at Nyany, and she looked at me. "Hit the red button again?" she asked. There was fear evident in her voice, and as I reached out to hit the big red button and launch us off for another day.
Engine power failure
"There is no escape Comrade, unlimited space communism rules the day here, we have seized the means of your power production." The communist captain said.
And then a tractor beam attached.

TIFU by confessing my feelings to a friend. I met my friend ( we’ll call them A) nearly two months ago in a fandom discord and found out we liked a lot of the same things, they invited me to a small sub group were we started to vc and we watched something together. We both started to really open up to each other about our personal lives, I made a full server for our group and things were going well. A asked to add their friend to the group and I agreed, things were going good until one day A messaged me that someone else in the group did something so they were kicked. We added each other on instagram and continued talking, A started to be less and less active and I checked in on them. They didn’t respond so I messaged their friend and asked about them, their friend said they were really focused on something and was like a hermit crab. Another week went by and I realised I had feelings for A, I messaged them a confession and them and their friend unfriended me and left the group server, they also unfollowed me on Insta.
TL;DR: I admitted to a friend I had feelings for them and they and their friend unfriended me and left our group server.

We all know cheating in Conan, thanks to easily obtainable and relatively affordable hacks, is out of control especially in populated official PvP servers. The cheats, currently being offered by someone named Xetal, allows players to speed around the map, see through walls, chests, benches, beds, and unconscious players, and enter player bases regardless of server settings. A select few individuals even have the ability to loot every single piece of loot a player owns with a simple console command, something only admins have the power to do. This of course drives players away and Funcom continues to alienate their leftover dedicated playerbase by not acknowledging the issue at all and stonewalling us with silence.
I have friends who are in regular contact with Xetal who just released an update to the hacks today. The hacks now allow cheaters to change the time of day in-game at a whim, which may not seem like a big deal, until it's always night time or someone is constantly switching the lights on and off.There are new updates to what they can do to your thralls as well. It used to be that your most important loot would be safe on your thralls, especially outside raid. There have been many times where I would encounter a player with speed hacks and simply told my companions to stop following me as I accepted my inevitable death and loss of hard earned loot to the cheater. Not anymore! Your thralls and companions are now at the mercy of the same hitbox pulling many of us experience when facing someone with these cheats. Nothing you own is safe.
I have dedicated thousands of hours of my time into this game. Conan Exiles is my favorite game of all time, and I truly think it could be one of the best out there if Funcom wasn't so incompetent and ignored their player base. I thought the introduction of the battle pass and bazaar would help resolve many of the issues the game has, but nothing has been done. I have invested heavily into this game and seen no attempts to even acknowledge any of these issues. I am at the point where I am even ready to quit the game and put Funcom on my black list out of spite. I will never touch a game published by them again if this is never resolved.
However, I have not lost hope yet, and will continue to actively report these hacks, put an end to Xetal's business, and fight against anyone else with ambitions to ruin this game. I think hacking in the video game industry is generally ignored when it's an issue that should be prioritized above all else. Gaming companies themselves don't seem to have any interest in doing anything about this problem, so I believe it is up to the players to do something about it. Stop playing the game, don't purchase anything in the bazaar, spread this around like wildfire and MAYBE Funcom will be the one company that starts a revolution against these losers who actively try to ruin the gaming experience for everyone.
Don't let them win.

As an old very active member of this sub, i have seen many posts about people asking themselves why their exes hasn't reached out (yet).
You need too understand that not all of them do come back. Even though the odds are in your favor that you will hear from them during no contact, it's not guaranteed.
As someone who is currently in 5.5 years of no contact, i can confirm that my ex has never reached out too me, not even a single word.
What my biggest tip is for the people that are new in this sub. Stop listening too those "no contact coaches". They will fill you up with hope that sooner or later your ex will reach out and that same hope will torture you mentally later down the road as everyday passes by with them not reaching out.
That's one of the toughest pains i had too endure. I was nonstop listening too people like Coach Corey and other people who make a living out of this. You seriously start too doubt yourself after sometime and even blame yourself for the downfall of the relationship whilst it's them who did the dumping / cheating / lying.
And that's because you expect them too reach out and when they don't, you simply blame yourself.
Do you want too heal? Work out, plan your days in with things you can do that will make you grow mentally and physically. Use this pain and let it mold you in too the best version of yourself. I can promise you that if you do self improvement, you later on don't even want your ex back because you will understand that you are capable of getting better.
The reason i am here (since other people asked me this the other day) is too show you as a living proof that things 100% get better. The suffering and pain you are going through now, is not forever so use this fuel towards your own benefit and grow as a person.