Sample new graduate medical assistant cover letter
A Song of Ice and Fire
2009.07.18 17:57 ThePowerOfGeek A Song of Ice and Fire
News and discussions relating to George R. R. Martin's "A Song of Ice and Fire" novels, his Westeros-based short stories, "Game of Thrones" and "House of the Dragon" TV series, and all things ASOIAF - but with particular emphasis on the written series.
2015.06.09 17:54 A jobs subreddit for marketing professionals.
The purpose of this subreddit is to connect marketing job seekers with companies seeking to fill open marketing positions or recruiters looking to place marketing professionals.
2017.10.19 05:56 MyWindowsAreDirty Arkansas Medical Marijuana
A subreddit for Arkansas medical marijuana patients and others to talk about everything MMJ in the Natural State. Whatever is on your mind about medical marijuana in Arkansas.
2024.05.15 02:10 milkktteea am I making the right decision? new graduate choosing med surg over DOU (step down unit)?
I am a new graduate in California who recently completing my schools preceptorship in DOU (1:3 high acuity patients). I learned so much and my preceptor gave good feedback, however I felt like I was fighting for my life every day and scared of not knowing what to do when my patients coded, or felt scared of titrating medications and all of that. I work as a tech at my job and right now I have the choice to apply to either DOU or med surg for the residency. All of my peers and colleagues thinking I’m being hard on myself however my gut is telling me that for my and my patients benefit, that I could start work in med surg and move to higher acuity once I’m more comfortable. Everyone complains about med surg but my hospitals med surg unit is not too bad and I feel that it would be a good place to get my bearings. Am I making a decision that I will regret?
submitted by milkktteea to nursing [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 02:03 Rev_5 Did company violate FMLA laws or am I still stupid?
I did some research earlier today on FMLA laws after most of the replies regarding my matter yesterday seemed to be way too focused on me being stupid, focusing on my quitting (which was withdrawn prior to my last day), rather than explaining what it covered, who qualified, and the importance of deadlines.
I don't contest I am stupid, so if you see it in this post, please explain why rather than just calling me an idiot. I get that enough from myself as it is.
Anyways, after reading into some of the laws, I realize HR may have already screwed up in writing. Whether that's an issue or not, I'm not sure someone will tell me here, but please actually explain because nobody pointed out the first violation I may have noticed when worrying about deadlines.
First of all, I do actually qualify for FMLA protections, since the 12 month time with the company does not need to consecutive. So although I may not have reached my one year mark currently, if CA goes even 3 years back, I would as I am a re-hire.
So if that's correct, HR may have already screwed up by sending me a request for certification of a healthcare provider May 8th, but requesting it due by the 20th, as there is an allotted 15 calendar day period the law grants employees to complete it - though it could be longer? I only bring this up because I just got off the phone with my therapist today, whom I hadn't seen in months prior to todays session, and essentially side-stepped the FMLA paperwork to instead spend our session discussing (read: me finally venting without judgement, never giving him a chance to actually comment) the death of a close friend of 15 years last August, and how my upcoming birthday is making me extremely depressed/anxious since I'll finally be older than her - and she'll continue to stay the same age.
But to stay on topic, since I already have a time set aside next week to catch him up on the parallel side story that hopefully won't further traumatize him, I realized our next appointment time - despite being past the day HR requested I submit the completed FMLA paperwork - still falls within 15 calendar days of when they requested it - though again - I know I can be given more time and don't expect my therapist to sign off.
HOWEVER, to bring this back to something others may have picked up on in my previous posts, but only briefly mentioned; I suspect HR may be operating under the assumption my claim is fraudulent, since I've only told a FEW coworkers about the panic attacks and nights where I don't sleep, and all upper management knows is I have a second job that occasionally calls me in for overtime.
Going over the company FMLA paperwork, I can see why they may be so comfortable going off of "he's faking it" watercooler talk, rather than humor the idea I may not want to make coworkers upset with the above story, since there's a section that directly asks "Is the employee able to do work of any kind?" - in my employers FMLA paperwork - which would obviously be fraudulent if answered No, considering the second, much less stressful job.
HOWEVER, as I learned from other redditors who don't chastise stupid people, there's FMLA paperwork that's downloadable straight from the department of labor AND there's a law stating an employee must accept all FMLA paperwork regardless of format. Annnnd since my two jobs are in separate fields, there shouldn't really be any explanation required for why I'm less stressed at the job that pays me to sit on my ass and another that consistently shows my heart rate at 110bpm outside of my regular 50bpm when it's lunch time.
So, I do apologize for yet another long rant, but I was finally able to pick up my ADHD medication yesterday after several months of being without. New meds, too.
submitted by Rev_5 to careerguidance [link] [comments]
I don't contest I am stupid, so if you see it in this post, please explain why rather than just calling me an idiot. I get that enough from myself as it is.
Anyways, after reading into some of the laws, I realize HR may have already screwed up in writing. Whether that's an issue or not, I'm not sure someone will tell me here, but please actually explain because nobody pointed out the first violation I may have noticed when worrying about deadlines.
First of all, I do actually qualify for FMLA protections, since the 12 month time with the company does not need to consecutive. So although I may not have reached my one year mark currently, if CA goes even 3 years back, I would as I am a re-hire.
So if that's correct, HR may have already screwed up by sending me a request for certification of a healthcare provider May 8th, but requesting it due by the 20th, as there is an allotted 15 calendar day period the law grants employees to complete it - though it could be longer? I only bring this up because I just got off the phone with my therapist today, whom I hadn't seen in months prior to todays session, and essentially side-stepped the FMLA paperwork to instead spend our session discussing (read: me finally venting without judgement, never giving him a chance to actually comment) the death of a close friend of 15 years last August, and how my upcoming birthday is making me extremely depressed/anxious since I'll finally be older than her - and she'll continue to stay the same age.
But to stay on topic, since I already have a time set aside next week to catch him up on the parallel side story that hopefully won't further traumatize him, I realized our next appointment time - despite being past the day HR requested I submit the completed FMLA paperwork - still falls within 15 calendar days of when they requested it - though again - I know I can be given more time and don't expect my therapist to sign off.
HOWEVER, to bring this back to something others may have picked up on in my previous posts, but only briefly mentioned; I suspect HR may be operating under the assumption my claim is fraudulent, since I've only told a FEW coworkers about the panic attacks and nights where I don't sleep, and all upper management knows is I have a second job that occasionally calls me in for overtime.
Going over the company FMLA paperwork, I can see why they may be so comfortable going off of "he's faking it" watercooler talk, rather than humor the idea I may not want to make coworkers upset with the above story, since there's a section that directly asks "Is the employee able to do work of any kind?" - in my employers FMLA paperwork - which would obviously be fraudulent if answered No, considering the second, much less stressful job.
HOWEVER, as I learned from other redditors who don't chastise stupid people, there's FMLA paperwork that's downloadable straight from the department of labor AND there's a law stating an employee must accept all FMLA paperwork regardless of format. Annnnd since my two jobs are in separate fields, there shouldn't really be any explanation required for why I'm less stressed at the job that pays me to sit on my ass and another that consistently shows my heart rate at 110bpm outside of my regular 50bpm when it's lunch time.
So, I do apologize for yet another long rant, but I was finally able to pick up my ADHD medication yesterday after several months of being without. New meds, too.
2024.05.15 02:01 Subject_Media_682 How it ended
How It Ended
by Ethan O’Driscoll
A thrilling Post apocalypse story
Intro
HRV-1
22 July 2024
Dr Olivia Warren Head of Biotech NARU
This is my latest report on the HRV-1 Virus we were instructed to design by the Russian Government.
The HRV-1 is an incredibly viral and infectious Retrovirus similar to HIV. Changes have been make on a genetic level to provide the request modes of transmission and symptoms.
Those symptoms are:
The infection vectors are:
Chapter 1
The Outbreak
1 January 2025
Dr Olivia Warren Head of Biotech NARU
I can’t believe the bastards used it. The first cases came in from Kiev in December from there it spread like a wild fire through Europe the death toll now sits at 65 millions. The hordes rampage through city after city by the millions. There is no way to stop this. What have I done.
NATO forces have established a quarantine of Europe but I can’t help but feel like its too little too late. My estimate is that all infected nations in Europe will be consumed within the next month or two. The Corporation has started the construction of a company safe haven for us higher ups. All we can do is hope the construction is complete before this thing breaks quarantine.
15 February 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
The world is ending. Europe is gone. The quarantine is broken. We’ve got cases in Asia, South America, Here at home in the US, Australia and Africa nowhere is safe. I did this.
Infection number right now:
The safe zone is complete at least we are planning on moving all operations and personal within the week. I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself. Dixie is my only saving grace and at least she’ll be safe. I pray for the soul of all those my creation has killed.
20 March 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
Dixie is at the Safe zone.
I can’t live with myself any more. 4 billion people dead
Chapter 2
A New World
My name is Dixie Warren. Daughter of Dr Olivia Warren. Not that I’ve seen her in 15 years. I remember like it was yesterday. She told me to get on that NARU helicopter that she’d meet me at the safe zone. Those were the last words she ever said to me. I was 8 when the world ended.
Its been 15 years since the Outbreak. There isn’t really anything left of the old world. NARU still exists and turns out they created the virus and my mom was the head of the department that did it. They sold it to the Russians hoping they wouldn’t use it but they did.
It was specifically designed to spread and destroy as fast as possible and it did. I left the safe zone 2 years ago after I learned this information. Now I just spend my time wandering from town to town. My training on the NARU security team helps. At least I know all the best places to shoot a Freaker. That's what we call the infected and for good reason. Most of the time you’ll find them wondering around in groups of 5 to 10 if the group gets too big they turn on each other and form a pile of bodies devouring each other. They moan and scream to communicate and once they see you they will hunt you till you kill every last on of them or you get far enough away. They can run and are abnormally strong if there bodies aren’t damaged they’re a bitch to kill but I’m pretty good at it.
Right now I’m outside Richmond I’ve been stuck here for a week waiting for a large horde to move through. I’m hoping to hunt some of the stragglers and re-up on some supplies. A big horde like this usually leave a few hundred behind. My new AR has been waiting for some fun, I’ve got a new red dot and laser so I should be able to pop headshot after headshot but for now I should go find something to eat.
I’ve made it to a small department store outside the town. It looks like the horde is almost gone. Tons of freaks roaming around though. I can hear a few in the store. I’m going to try getting in through the back and take them out.
Made it back home and wow that store was a gold mine. I got food, water, bullets and even some whiskey. I’m going to enjoy the night then its time to hunt some stragglers. Then I’m thinking of going further south maybe New Orleans heard there might be a small settlement out there from another traveller, might be able to get another courier job or at least I’ll be able to stock up on supplies properly after all these years there isn’t much left in the cities to scavenge.
I better get some rest got a long day of freak killing and walking tomorrow.
Chapter 3
The Road to Home
I left Richmond yesterday. It’s a long road to New Orleans I wished I lived in the days when cars worked. NARU are the only people with working vehicles left and they aren’t exactly the sharing type. Its so lonely out here its been weeks since I last saw another living person the only things you see out here in the ruins are freaks by the hundreds. Its hard to believe the whole world was reduced to nothing by something my mom created. I remember her being the kindest most caring person in the world to think that she could create something so destructive is unbelievable. I’ve still got a long way to go the first city I should have to go through is Raleigh.
I’ve been walking for about a day and I can see the ruins from here. Its always so surreal to see the cities now, so desolate so empty. I remember growing up in Seattle, the city lights, the noise it was always so alive and busy. Now they’re all empty husks or mostly empty at least can’t forget about the freaks. Must’ve killed a thousand of them on my way here almost got bitten when one jumped me under an overpass about 10 miles back. Luckily my machete seems to be as good as ever at cutting up freaks. I should make it to Raleigh within the day.
Made it to Raleigh and its a mess, thousands of freaks I could hear the moaning and screaming from a mile away. I’m going to try finding my way around the city no point in trying to fight my way through a wall of freaks.
Heard crying coming from a house I walked past I decided to check it out and I found a young boy name Richie hiding in a bathroom with what looked like his infected parents trying to break the door down. I took both of them down with a clean headshot. The look on his face when he saw them dead breaks my heart. He says they’ve been hiding out in this house for a month or two after there homestead was overrun by freaks. Its a sad story but it gives me hope that people are at least trying to survive and rebuilt. He’s only 16 yet he’s seen so much and has nowhere else to go so I asked him if he wanted to stick with me and he was elated so I guess I’ve got a sidekick now. I’m not complaining should make the long lonely road more interesting. He’s got no combat experience but he can shoot a pistol so I gave him one of my backups at least I always carry extra. We’ve decided to hunker down for the night and do some scavenging before we leave for Charlotte tomorrow. I’ll be nice to have company for once I’ve been alone for so long.
I woke up to a gunshot and Richie screaming in the other room. When I got there I found Richie pale as snow and a little girl that was clearly infected shot lying on the floor. When I asked Richie who it was he replied in a cold distant voice “My little sister”. It was a heart breaking moment in less than 24 hours Richie had lost everyone. That was a feeling I knew too well my mom was all I had my dad died when I was really young and all I knew after the Outbreak before I left the safe haven was NARU but that wasn’t the best place to build personal connections just a bunch of science types that destroyed the world. Not exactly the most social lot and the security forces were just a bunch of military types that didn’t like the fact that as a teenager I was doing better than them in every metric except raw physical strength but even in that I was better than a lot of them. It’s almost time for us to get going I should pack up and make sure Richie’s okay.
We decided to stop by the old gun store on our way out of Raleigh. Richie mentioned seeing it when him and his dad went out to scavenge one time. He says it looked all locked up meaning there’s a good chance that there might still be something left to take. When we arrived there Richie was right it was locked tight it looked like there might be a way in from the roof so we decided to climb up when I got up there I was jumped by a freak that was just waiting but this one was different smarter in a way it heard me climbing up but instead of screaming and jumping off to get me it decided to hide and wait. In my years of freak killing I’ve never seen one that waits and ambushes. I hope this isn’t a sign that the infected are getting smarter. Anyway Richie popped it in the head and we got in to the gun store and what a find it was. I managed to get a brand new Glock 9 with a torch attachment and extended mag to replace the pistol I gave Richie. Speaking of Richie he decided on a 12 gauge pump with a tube extension and a AR-15 with a suppressor, extended mag and front grip. We also found enough ammo to keep us stocked even if we have to shoot our way to Charlotte now that we’re locked and loaded its time to leave this shit hole and start walking to the next shit hole at least for once I won’t be alone.
Chapter 4
The Road to Charlotte
We’d been walking for 60 miles before we were jumped by a gang of thugs. I caught a round to the leg before I knew what was happening Richie was more awake than me and managed to put a round through the bastards chest before his friends jumped out from behind two cars in front of us we managed to take cover behind a ruined car and we returned fire. I could see the thugs had no skill they just fired randomly in our direction while we were in cover I waited till they had to reload and tossed a molotov at one of them burning the bastard to a crisp. Richie rushed the other and unloaded some buckshot into his head. My leg hurts like a bitch. Richie bandaged it up for me he’s really starting to get used to life on the road. Looking at our map it looks like there is a gas station about 10 miles away so I guess I’ll limp my way there so we can hunker down while me leg heals. I still can’t believe I let the bastard catch me lacking but it won’t happen again
We made it too the gas station. The place looks almost perfectly preserved except the group of freaks that were shuffling around outside nothing that we couldn’t deal with. There is a lot of food and water here and we should be safe here while my leg heals. I hope we don’t run into any more problems till then. I trust Richie but he’s still learning and I’m not sure he’d be able to deal with any major problem on his own.
Its been 4 weeks since I took that shot to my leg and I’m feeling a lot better. Richie managed to find some painkiller so he was able to get the round out and everything healed nicely. He really is an amazing guy young and naive but he really is a good person. I don’t know how I did it without him for so long. It nice not being alone any more. I think I’m ready to get moving again we have about another 100 miles left to go before we get to Charlotte so we better get moving.
We’re about 20 miles from Charlotte, the roads been peaceful we ran into a group of survivors living on a pretty well fortified farm about 25 miles back. They were having issues with some freaks hanging around their water pumping station so we dealt with them for them in exchange for some antibiotics to help with an infection Richie got in his leg where he cut himself jumping a fence while a freak chased him before I could dome it. Only god knows how I didn’t get an infection in my leg after getting shot but he did from cutting himself on a rusty fence guess I’m just lucky. After helping them back we continued on our way. Nothing else interesting happened and Richie is looking a lot better and his cut is basically healed. We should get to Charlotte within the day but I want to stop on a hill on the Outskirts to set up base and get a look at the situation in the city because the farmers mentioned that a horde had passed through recently and they usually get held up in cities they should have moved on by now but better safe than sorry
Chapter 5
Charlotte
We made it to the hill outside Charlotte and the place is infested millions of freaks. I’ve never seen so many of them in one place and I think I know why. In the middle of the city is an old NARU emergency treatment centre. A place where all of the cities first infected were sent. A good plan till there were to many of them and quarantine was broken then all it was was a collection of infected right in the middle of the city which lead to the whole thing being infected much faster. I’m guessing this caused most of the freaks to pile and the smell was attracting more. Oh I forgot to mention the smell imagine a pile of thousands of rotting corpses that’s the smell I’m talking about. There’s no chance we’ll be able to get through the city but I need to get to that NARU site. There might be some old documents or something about my mom I need to find out what happened to her. I’ve spoken to Richie and we both agree that we should try and divert the horde away so we can have time to get to the NARU centre.
Richie has volunteered to draw the hordes attention away while I get to the NARU building. The plan is he triggers an explosion at an old gas station on the other side of town while I get to the building and look for information about the virus and what happened to my mom. All I know is that my mom created the virus while working for NARU. I need to find out what happened to her. I hate putting Richie at risk but it needs to be done.
I just heard the explosion and it works thousands of freaks started moving like a tidal wave of flesh towards the sound I hope Richie is on his way to the meeting place at the abandoned NARU checkpoint on the south side of town but I don’t have time to think about it now I’m almost at the NARU centre I need to be as fast as possible
I made it to the NARU centre and it’s covered in bodies there’s no way I can get in it looks more like a pile of living human corpses than a building I’m guessing the freaks all turned on and consumed each other till they were all stuck and fused together. I’m making my way to the NARU checkpoint I hope Richie is already there and safe.
I made it to the NARU checkpoint and reunited with Richie. He was covered in blood and gore. He had to kill hundreds of freaks to make it here. He says he was almost bitten a few times. I can’t believe I risked his life for nothing. I’ll never do it again. While exploring the place I found this.
20 March 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
Dixie is at the Safe zone.
I can’t live with myself any more. 4 billion people dead
The final communication between my mom and NARU it turns out she couldn’t live with the guilt and decided to kill herself. I can’t blame her I would probably do the same if I was the reason the world ended and killed billions of people but it still breaks my heart. I am happy to know she’s dead and not infected lumbering around somewhere.
Richie is exhausted and so am I were going to take a brake here and continue on to Atlanta tomorrow.
Everything is packed up and we’re ready to go. Last night was rough I kept watch while Richie slept I hate to admit it but I think I’m falling in love with him. I never really had a first love I live for 13 years at NARU but I was the oldest kid there by far by the time any of the boys were close to my age I was already jaded and thinking about leaving so I didn’t pay any attention to them but Richie is different when I found him he was so helpless and lost now he’s strong, confident and he’s so loyal to me. I don’t want to speak to soon by I think he might feel the same way I guess time will tell we still have a long road to walk together. Speaking of walking Atlanta here we come.
Chapter 6
Road to Atlanta
We ran into a group of survivors hiding in a shed on the outskirts of Charlotte on our way home two parents and a little girl they were all bitten and waiting to turn they begged us to put them down before they turned so I did but I think it took a toll on Richie. He’s been almost silent since it must’ve reminded him of his parents and little sister I hope the day never comes that one of us get bitten and the other one has to decide whether or not to do it but if it does I hope Richie has what it takes to put me down if not I hope I get to do it myself before I turn but I shouldn’t be thinking about things like that. Thinking about your own death is a pretty sure-fire way to make it happen.
We ran into a pretty large group of infected must’ve been about 20 of them but all of them behaved the same as the one that jumped me on the roof of the gun store back in Raleigh. I guess that confirms that it wasn’t a once off thing but I still wonder what causes it maybe I’ll find out one day. We took them all down and continued on I hate to admit it but I really enjoy killing freaks call it therapy I guess. Richie is running low on ammo for his 12 gauge. There should be a gun store in about 30 miles so we should be able to restock there. My ammo supplies are also running a bit low only got about a hundred rounds per gun left. I know that sounds like a lot but with all the freaks on the roads it barely enough after Raleigh I had about a 500 per gun. Lets hope we don’t run into any large hordes till we get to the gun store.
We made it to the gun store just to find it controlled by 2 less than friendly guys. They opened fire as soon as they same us. We returned fire and we’re about to enter the store. Richie kicked the door down and I rushed in I let of two shots taking down the one guy the other was a second away from filling me with bullets from his Uzi but luckily Richie put a round through his chest and another through his right eye before he could. Thank god. I don’t know what I would do without him. We’ve decided to rest tonight and continue tomorrow morning.
Dixie: “Hey Richie”
Richie: “Hey Dixie”
Dixie: ”How you feeling buddy”
Richie: ”Oh you know always OK”
Dixie: ”That’s good buddy”
Richie: “Hey Dixie thank you for everything you really are the best thing that ever happened to me”
Dixie: ”Don’t mention it buddy I love you”
We’re almost 20 miles away from Atlanta and I’m not hopeful judging by smell. I’m guessing its going to be a lot worse than Charlotte but we’ll have to wait and see.
We’ve made it to the outskirts of Atlanta and its as bad as I thought there are hundreds of body piles almost the size of buildings. The living freaks move around the city streets like blood through the veins of the body. Some of them are engaged in massive fights with other groups ripping each other apart.
We’re going in tomorrow but for now Richie’s hunting while I scope out the area. I hope he brings some venison anything but rabbit. I’m sick of rabbit meat. When he comes back I want to try and cuddle up to him and see what happens
Richie and I have eaten and we’re getting ready to sleep. I asked Richie if I could sleep in his sleeping bag with him. He looked at me like I was crazy but once I insisted I was serious I could see the joy on his face so we cuddled up for the night and went to sleep
Wow it felt so amazing sleeping in Richie’s arms and today everything feels different but in a good way everything just feels more intimate we had an amazing conversation about life this morning and it feels like our bond is on a whole new level. Its time to go explore Atlanta there should be an old NARU field hospital on the North-side of town but we’ve got a whole city to get through before that.
Chapter 7
Atlanta
Atlanta is a nightmare right now we’re stuck in a pharmacy bunch of freaks trying to get to us. I’m busy wiring up a pipe bomb while Richie holds the door then when I’m done BOOM
Richie Move....
BOOM....
Well that’s one way to deal with freaks. Always hate being covered in gore though. We’re near the city centre now and its as bad as we thought the place is infested with freaks every building, street and alley we’ve been fighting for every mile we’ve been moving basically carving our way through the city leaving streets flooded in blood but its worth it I can see the NARU hospital and it looks like I might be able to get in this time.
We’re Exploring the NARU hospital and its a goldmine I found a bunch of old documentation on the virus and even some reports of small towns keeping quarantine for years after the Fall. There’s also apparently an old supply and weapons depot nearby so were going there next.
Richie has been opening up a lot his little sister was out playing when a freak got her. Her parents couldn’t put her down so she turned and bit them he hid in the bathroom for 2 days before I got there and put then out of the misery. I wish I could understand how he feels because I never had anyone except my mom and I lost her so young so it never really affected me. I love him so much. This would be so difficult without him.
We made it to the NARU supply depot and it basically empty I mean it make sense Atlanta was one of the first city to fall due to vast number of infected that moved in from the nearby NARU detention camp. That was a bright idea locking up a bunch infected in one place and expecting the place to last. So the city fell to chaos pretty quickly and NARU withdrew most likely taking everything with them that or it was looted after the city fell doesn’t matter now its almost night and we should get some rest we’re going to camp on a nearby rooftop.
Sitting on the roof with Richie and a fire I can’t help but feel like life isn’t that bad yeah its not what it used to be but I mean I have food and freedom and someone I love what more could someone want from life. Looking out at the desolate streets full of freaks well except the streets we pushed through I see the death of the old world and the birth of a new one.
I should get to sleep we got a long road to Birmingham tomorrow. Its so warm and cosy pressed up against Richie.
Chapter 8
The Road To Birmingham
On our way out of Atlanta we ran into a huge freak and I mean a huge motherfucker must’ve been at least 10 feet tall and covered in muscle it looked like it was made of at least 5 other freaks. He tossed Richie against a car and knocked him out I managed to chop one of its arms off before it threw me 10 feat in the air and I crashed down on my back and passed out when I woke up Richie was putting round after round in the things chest and it still wouldn’t go down to I ran jumped on its back and used my machete to chop the freaks head off and burnt the body with a molotov just to be sure the thing was dead
Richie was pretty beat up and I’m not going to lie so was I my back hurts like a bitch but we keep on going no matter what because we still have each other. Still I wonder how those freaks got combined into that thing. Maybe that’s why they pile the way they do so they can combine into something bigger I remember something in one of the NARU document mentioning the virus being able to cause “cellular recombination” so I wonder if that’s not maybe what happened and if it is it means things are about to get a lot worse and a lot more dangerous.
We’re about 50 miles always from Birmingham now. The road has been pretty quite only the occasional group of freaks and the group of raiders we ran into outside a gas station awhile back but this time we got the drop on them and not the other way round gave all three of them a new hole in the head Richie was worried that they might be survivors till we found Sandra tied up in the gas station bathroom turns out the bastards grabbed her from her family farm during the night a few days ago and have been taking turns on her over and over since then. We agreed to take her home its the least we could do after everything that happened to her. When we got her home we found the place burnt down and her family butchered outside. I’m guessing after they grabbed her the bastards came back to finish the job. She’s decided to stick with us she’s a lot older than me and Richie. She used to be a nurse before the Outbreak she dealt with some of the first infected until NARU took over the hospitals. When things really started to go bad she moved back to Alabama to her old family farm to live with her parents they managed to set everything up before the Fall and have been living there since well till recently. She’s pretty shook about the whole situation but she should be okay in a day or two. We’ve all lost something in this new world.
We’ve made it to the outskirts of Birmingham and the place is a fortress looks like remnants of the US military and NARU have fortified the place they have watch towers, auto-turrents and armed patrols. Also looks like they have a lot of military hardware. I know better than to approach the main gate NARU has a shoot on site order for all there quarantine zones no reason to assume this place would be any different. Still I have to get a look inside. Tonight while Richie and Sandra set up camp I’m going to look around and see if I can find a way in. I have to know what’s going on here.
I’ve taken a look around and I’ve found a way in through an old sewer pipe running into an old factory from there I should be able to sneak into the city and have a look around maybe they have some new information on the virus or at least I should be able to find some weapons for Sandra
Chapter 9
Birmingham
Richie and Sandra are waiting for me back at camp while I go explore the city. I left most of my kit behind except my Glock and combat knife. I’m not planning on getting into any fights and if I do I want the finished as quickly as possible. I’ve made it to the sewer pipe it should lead me to the sewer grate I saw on the other side of the fence from there I should have free reign over the city as long as I avoid the NARU patrols and don’t draw to much attention to myself.
I’ve made it into the city and it looks like something out of a George Orwell novel. Security cameras on every street, I’ve seen security forces beat a man to death and another group drag a young women kicking and screaming into an abandoned building. I hate to say it but I think life is better outside with the freaks than in here. Can’t say I’m surprised there’s a reason I left the NARU security forces and the safe zone. Lets just say civilian life and happiness has never been on their priority list. I can see a NARU supply depot I should be able to get a uniform and standard load out last I remember NARU doesn’t have a way of removing employees from the database so my security id number should still work.
I was right NARU never changes I just used my id to get a brand new NARU-P-2a NARU's home grown assault rifle basically its everything the AR-15 is but better its literally a gun made for killing freaks and you can feel it. I always wished I stole one when I left but I guess better late than never I also scanned through a few of the latest security reports and it seems like big guys like we fought back in Atlanta are becoming more common as well as a new faster infected with razor sharp claws that hunt and ambush their victims. We haven’t ran into one of those yet and I hope we don’t any time soon. I hope Richie and Sandra are okay, they should be we have no shortage of fire-power but I still worry. I’m going to keep taking a look around and maybe find out how they’ve maintained quarantine for so long
Well I got my answer and its not a good one. The NARU higher ups here basically outlawed being sick. Anyone with any symptoms that might be HRV-1 are immediately executed and burnt without exception I guess that’s one way to maintain quarantine but I can’t help but wonder how many thousands of innocent people have died to maintain it.
I think its about time I get out of here and back to Richie and Sandra.
I made it back to camp. I’m so happy to be back with Richie. He went out hunting and brought back a nice fat wild pig for dinner. Sandra is looking a lot better as well she still has that distant look in her eye but that should go away soon
Next stop Montgomery Alabama.
Chapter 10
The Road to Montgomery
I still can’t get it out of my head. The freaks are changing getting more dangerous, if I understand correctly the longer they are infected the more unstable the virus gets leading to mutations. I hope this doesn’t mean that the longer we survive the harder its going to get but there’s no point in worrying about whether or not the freaks are going to be stronger in the future as long as we make sure we get stronger too it should work out just fine. Richie and I are doing really well our love kinda makes everything a lot easier. Gives us a reason if that makes sense Sandra on the other hand is kinda dead weight if I’m being honest but its not her fault. She’s been through a lot Richie and I do our best to look out for her and take care of her. I just wish she’d start to adjust to life out here she still winches every time we take out a group of freaks or thugs and she’s a bleeding heart. Yesterday as we were going past a little abandoned convenience store we heard a little girl crying when we asked what was wrong she said they were trapped and needed help. It was obviously a trap we could see the store was fortified and the little girl looked too happy for a kid whose parents were stuck and dying but Sandra insisted we go in and help and what do you know the kids parents are perfectly healthy and holding us at gun point luckily I’m pretty quick on the draw and managed to put two rounds through the fathers chest and Richie tackled the mom. I walked up to the big dude and put one through the head to make sure the mom learns her lesson. We agreed to let her and her daughter live as long as the promised to stop robbing travellers. Sandra couldn’t handle the fact that I finished the dad off even though I think that was better than leaving his family to watch him bleed out because there was no way he would have survive I shot him through both of his lungs they would have filled up with blood and he would have chocked to death I did him a favour by putting him down but she didn’t see it that way even threatened to go it on her own until Richie and I told her to go ahead if she really thought it was the best thing for her. She then decided to stick with us
We’re nearly at the outskirts of Montgomery, we just passed the old civil rights monument. The roads been a bit too still I have a bad feeling about what we’re going to find when we get there
submitted by Subject_Media_682 to postapocalyptic [link] [comments]
by Ethan O’Driscoll
A thrilling Post apocalypse story
Intro
HRV-1
22 July 2024
Dr Olivia Warren Head of Biotech NARU
This is my latest report on the HRV-1 Virus we were instructed to design by the Russian Government.
The HRV-1 is an incredibly viral and infectious Retrovirus similar to HIV. Changes have been make on a genetic level to provide the request modes of transmission and symptoms.
Those symptoms are:
- Profuse bleeding from the mouth, eyes, lips, gums and pores of the skin
- Confusion
- Coma
- Total organ failure leading to death
- Reanimation after death and post-mortem hypo-aggression
The infection vectors are:
- bodily fluids
- contaminated area
- ANYTHING that has come in contact with infected bodily fluids
- airborne droplets
Chapter 1
The Outbreak
1 January 2025
Dr Olivia Warren Head of Biotech NARU
I can’t believe the bastards used it. The first cases came in from Kiev in December from there it spread like a wild fire through Europe the death toll now sits at 65 millions. The hordes rampage through city after city by the millions. There is no way to stop this. What have I done.
NATO forces have established a quarantine of Europe but I can’t help but feel like its too little too late. My estimate is that all infected nations in Europe will be consumed within the next month or two. The Corporation has started the construction of a company safe haven for us higher ups. All we can do is hope the construction is complete before this thing breaks quarantine.
15 February 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
The world is ending. Europe is gone. The quarantine is broken. We’ve got cases in Asia, South America, Here at home in the US, Australia and Africa nowhere is safe. I did this.
Infection number right now:
- Africa 100 Million
- Europe 890 Million
- Asia 250 Million
- North America 250 Thousand
- South America 120 Million
- Australia 24 Million
The safe zone is complete at least we are planning on moving all operations and personal within the week. I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself. Dixie is my only saving grace and at least she’ll be safe. I pray for the soul of all those my creation has killed.
20 March 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
Dixie is at the Safe zone.
I can’t live with myself any more. 4 billion people dead
Chapter 2
A New World
My name is Dixie Warren. Daughter of Dr Olivia Warren. Not that I’ve seen her in 15 years. I remember like it was yesterday. She told me to get on that NARU helicopter that she’d meet me at the safe zone. Those were the last words she ever said to me. I was 8 when the world ended.
Its been 15 years since the Outbreak. There isn’t really anything left of the old world. NARU still exists and turns out they created the virus and my mom was the head of the department that did it. They sold it to the Russians hoping they wouldn’t use it but they did.
It was specifically designed to spread and destroy as fast as possible and it did. I left the safe zone 2 years ago after I learned this information. Now I just spend my time wandering from town to town. My training on the NARU security team helps. At least I know all the best places to shoot a Freaker. That's what we call the infected and for good reason. Most of the time you’ll find them wondering around in groups of 5 to 10 if the group gets too big they turn on each other and form a pile of bodies devouring each other. They moan and scream to communicate and once they see you they will hunt you till you kill every last on of them or you get far enough away. They can run and are abnormally strong if there bodies aren’t damaged they’re a bitch to kill but I’m pretty good at it.
Right now I’m outside Richmond I’ve been stuck here for a week waiting for a large horde to move through. I’m hoping to hunt some of the stragglers and re-up on some supplies. A big horde like this usually leave a few hundred behind. My new AR has been waiting for some fun, I’ve got a new red dot and laser so I should be able to pop headshot after headshot but for now I should go find something to eat.
I’ve made it to a small department store outside the town. It looks like the horde is almost gone. Tons of freaks roaming around though. I can hear a few in the store. I’m going to try getting in through the back and take them out.
Made it back home and wow that store was a gold mine. I got food, water, bullets and even some whiskey. I’m going to enjoy the night then its time to hunt some stragglers. Then I’m thinking of going further south maybe New Orleans heard there might be a small settlement out there from another traveller, might be able to get another courier job or at least I’ll be able to stock up on supplies properly after all these years there isn’t much left in the cities to scavenge.
I better get some rest got a long day of freak killing and walking tomorrow.
Chapter 3
The Road to Home
I left Richmond yesterday. It’s a long road to New Orleans I wished I lived in the days when cars worked. NARU are the only people with working vehicles left and they aren’t exactly the sharing type. Its so lonely out here its been weeks since I last saw another living person the only things you see out here in the ruins are freaks by the hundreds. Its hard to believe the whole world was reduced to nothing by something my mom created. I remember her being the kindest most caring person in the world to think that she could create something so destructive is unbelievable. I’ve still got a long way to go the first city I should have to go through is Raleigh.
I’ve been walking for about a day and I can see the ruins from here. Its always so surreal to see the cities now, so desolate so empty. I remember growing up in Seattle, the city lights, the noise it was always so alive and busy. Now they’re all empty husks or mostly empty at least can’t forget about the freaks. Must’ve killed a thousand of them on my way here almost got bitten when one jumped me under an overpass about 10 miles back. Luckily my machete seems to be as good as ever at cutting up freaks. I should make it to Raleigh within the day.
Made it to Raleigh and its a mess, thousands of freaks I could hear the moaning and screaming from a mile away. I’m going to try finding my way around the city no point in trying to fight my way through a wall of freaks.
Heard crying coming from a house I walked past I decided to check it out and I found a young boy name Richie hiding in a bathroom with what looked like his infected parents trying to break the door down. I took both of them down with a clean headshot. The look on his face when he saw them dead breaks my heart. He says they’ve been hiding out in this house for a month or two after there homestead was overrun by freaks. Its a sad story but it gives me hope that people are at least trying to survive and rebuilt. He’s only 16 yet he’s seen so much and has nowhere else to go so I asked him if he wanted to stick with me and he was elated so I guess I’ve got a sidekick now. I’m not complaining should make the long lonely road more interesting. He’s got no combat experience but he can shoot a pistol so I gave him one of my backups at least I always carry extra. We’ve decided to hunker down for the night and do some scavenging before we leave for Charlotte tomorrow. I’ll be nice to have company for once I’ve been alone for so long.
I woke up to a gunshot and Richie screaming in the other room. When I got there I found Richie pale as snow and a little girl that was clearly infected shot lying on the floor. When I asked Richie who it was he replied in a cold distant voice “My little sister”. It was a heart breaking moment in less than 24 hours Richie had lost everyone. That was a feeling I knew too well my mom was all I had my dad died when I was really young and all I knew after the Outbreak before I left the safe haven was NARU but that wasn’t the best place to build personal connections just a bunch of science types that destroyed the world. Not exactly the most social lot and the security forces were just a bunch of military types that didn’t like the fact that as a teenager I was doing better than them in every metric except raw physical strength but even in that I was better than a lot of them. It’s almost time for us to get going I should pack up and make sure Richie’s okay.
We decided to stop by the old gun store on our way out of Raleigh. Richie mentioned seeing it when him and his dad went out to scavenge one time. He says it looked all locked up meaning there’s a good chance that there might still be something left to take. When we arrived there Richie was right it was locked tight it looked like there might be a way in from the roof so we decided to climb up when I got up there I was jumped by a freak that was just waiting but this one was different smarter in a way it heard me climbing up but instead of screaming and jumping off to get me it decided to hide and wait. In my years of freak killing I’ve never seen one that waits and ambushes. I hope this isn’t a sign that the infected are getting smarter. Anyway Richie popped it in the head and we got in to the gun store and what a find it was. I managed to get a brand new Glock 9 with a torch attachment and extended mag to replace the pistol I gave Richie. Speaking of Richie he decided on a 12 gauge pump with a tube extension and a AR-15 with a suppressor, extended mag and front grip. We also found enough ammo to keep us stocked even if we have to shoot our way to Charlotte now that we’re locked and loaded its time to leave this shit hole and start walking to the next shit hole at least for once I won’t be alone.
Chapter 4
The Road to Charlotte
We’d been walking for 60 miles before we were jumped by a gang of thugs. I caught a round to the leg before I knew what was happening Richie was more awake than me and managed to put a round through the bastards chest before his friends jumped out from behind two cars in front of us we managed to take cover behind a ruined car and we returned fire. I could see the thugs had no skill they just fired randomly in our direction while we were in cover I waited till they had to reload and tossed a molotov at one of them burning the bastard to a crisp. Richie rushed the other and unloaded some buckshot into his head. My leg hurts like a bitch. Richie bandaged it up for me he’s really starting to get used to life on the road. Looking at our map it looks like there is a gas station about 10 miles away so I guess I’ll limp my way there so we can hunker down while me leg heals. I still can’t believe I let the bastard catch me lacking but it won’t happen again
We made it too the gas station. The place looks almost perfectly preserved except the group of freaks that were shuffling around outside nothing that we couldn’t deal with. There is a lot of food and water here and we should be safe here while my leg heals. I hope we don’t run into any more problems till then. I trust Richie but he’s still learning and I’m not sure he’d be able to deal with any major problem on his own.
Its been 4 weeks since I took that shot to my leg and I’m feeling a lot better. Richie managed to find some painkiller so he was able to get the round out and everything healed nicely. He really is an amazing guy young and naive but he really is a good person. I don’t know how I did it without him for so long. It nice not being alone any more. I think I’m ready to get moving again we have about another 100 miles left to go before we get to Charlotte so we better get moving.
We’re about 20 miles from Charlotte, the roads been peaceful we ran into a group of survivors living on a pretty well fortified farm about 25 miles back. They were having issues with some freaks hanging around their water pumping station so we dealt with them for them in exchange for some antibiotics to help with an infection Richie got in his leg where he cut himself jumping a fence while a freak chased him before I could dome it. Only god knows how I didn’t get an infection in my leg after getting shot but he did from cutting himself on a rusty fence guess I’m just lucky. After helping them back we continued on our way. Nothing else interesting happened and Richie is looking a lot better and his cut is basically healed. We should get to Charlotte within the day but I want to stop on a hill on the Outskirts to set up base and get a look at the situation in the city because the farmers mentioned that a horde had passed through recently and they usually get held up in cities they should have moved on by now but better safe than sorry
Chapter 5
Charlotte
We made it to the hill outside Charlotte and the place is infested millions of freaks. I’ve never seen so many of them in one place and I think I know why. In the middle of the city is an old NARU emergency treatment centre. A place where all of the cities first infected were sent. A good plan till there were to many of them and quarantine was broken then all it was was a collection of infected right in the middle of the city which lead to the whole thing being infected much faster. I’m guessing this caused most of the freaks to pile and the smell was attracting more. Oh I forgot to mention the smell imagine a pile of thousands of rotting corpses that’s the smell I’m talking about. There’s no chance we’ll be able to get through the city but I need to get to that NARU site. There might be some old documents or something about my mom I need to find out what happened to her. I’ve spoken to Richie and we both agree that we should try and divert the horde away so we can have time to get to the NARU centre.
Richie has volunteered to draw the hordes attention away while I get to the NARU building. The plan is he triggers an explosion at an old gas station on the other side of town while I get to the building and look for information about the virus and what happened to my mom. All I know is that my mom created the virus while working for NARU. I need to find out what happened to her. I hate putting Richie at risk but it needs to be done.
I just heard the explosion and it works thousands of freaks started moving like a tidal wave of flesh towards the sound I hope Richie is on his way to the meeting place at the abandoned NARU checkpoint on the south side of town but I don’t have time to think about it now I’m almost at the NARU centre I need to be as fast as possible
I made it to the NARU centre and it’s covered in bodies there’s no way I can get in it looks more like a pile of living human corpses than a building I’m guessing the freaks all turned on and consumed each other till they were all stuck and fused together. I’m making my way to the NARU checkpoint I hope Richie is already there and safe.
I made it to the NARU checkpoint and reunited with Richie. He was covered in blood and gore. He had to kill hundreds of freaks to make it here. He says he was almost bitten a few times. I can’t believe I risked his life for nothing. I’ll never do it again. While exploring the place I found this.
20 March 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
Dixie is at the Safe zone.
I can’t live with myself any more. 4 billion people dead
The final communication between my mom and NARU it turns out she couldn’t live with the guilt and decided to kill herself. I can’t blame her I would probably do the same if I was the reason the world ended and killed billions of people but it still breaks my heart. I am happy to know she’s dead and not infected lumbering around somewhere.
Richie is exhausted and so am I were going to take a brake here and continue on to Atlanta tomorrow.
Everything is packed up and we’re ready to go. Last night was rough I kept watch while Richie slept I hate to admit it but I think I’m falling in love with him. I never really had a first love I live for 13 years at NARU but I was the oldest kid there by far by the time any of the boys were close to my age I was already jaded and thinking about leaving so I didn’t pay any attention to them but Richie is different when I found him he was so helpless and lost now he’s strong, confident and he’s so loyal to me. I don’t want to speak to soon by I think he might feel the same way I guess time will tell we still have a long road to walk together. Speaking of walking Atlanta here we come.
Chapter 6
Road to Atlanta
We ran into a group of survivors hiding in a shed on the outskirts of Charlotte on our way home two parents and a little girl they were all bitten and waiting to turn they begged us to put them down before they turned so I did but I think it took a toll on Richie. He’s been almost silent since it must’ve reminded him of his parents and little sister I hope the day never comes that one of us get bitten and the other one has to decide whether or not to do it but if it does I hope Richie has what it takes to put me down if not I hope I get to do it myself before I turn but I shouldn’t be thinking about things like that. Thinking about your own death is a pretty sure-fire way to make it happen.
We ran into a pretty large group of infected must’ve been about 20 of them but all of them behaved the same as the one that jumped me on the roof of the gun store back in Raleigh. I guess that confirms that it wasn’t a once off thing but I still wonder what causes it maybe I’ll find out one day. We took them all down and continued on I hate to admit it but I really enjoy killing freaks call it therapy I guess. Richie is running low on ammo for his 12 gauge. There should be a gun store in about 30 miles so we should be able to restock there. My ammo supplies are also running a bit low only got about a hundred rounds per gun left. I know that sounds like a lot but with all the freaks on the roads it barely enough after Raleigh I had about a 500 per gun. Lets hope we don’t run into any large hordes till we get to the gun store.
We made it to the gun store just to find it controlled by 2 less than friendly guys. They opened fire as soon as they same us. We returned fire and we’re about to enter the store. Richie kicked the door down and I rushed in I let of two shots taking down the one guy the other was a second away from filling me with bullets from his Uzi but luckily Richie put a round through his chest and another through his right eye before he could. Thank god. I don’t know what I would do without him. We’ve decided to rest tonight and continue tomorrow morning.
Dixie: “Hey Richie”
Richie: “Hey Dixie”
Dixie: ”How you feeling buddy”
Richie: ”Oh you know always OK”
Dixie: ”That’s good buddy”
Richie: “Hey Dixie thank you for everything you really are the best thing that ever happened to me”
Dixie: ”Don’t mention it buddy I love you”
We’re almost 20 miles away from Atlanta and I’m not hopeful judging by smell. I’m guessing its going to be a lot worse than Charlotte but we’ll have to wait and see.
We’ve made it to the outskirts of Atlanta and its as bad as I thought there are hundreds of body piles almost the size of buildings. The living freaks move around the city streets like blood through the veins of the body. Some of them are engaged in massive fights with other groups ripping each other apart.
We’re going in tomorrow but for now Richie’s hunting while I scope out the area. I hope he brings some venison anything but rabbit. I’m sick of rabbit meat. When he comes back I want to try and cuddle up to him and see what happens
Richie and I have eaten and we’re getting ready to sleep. I asked Richie if I could sleep in his sleeping bag with him. He looked at me like I was crazy but once I insisted I was serious I could see the joy on his face so we cuddled up for the night and went to sleep
Wow it felt so amazing sleeping in Richie’s arms and today everything feels different but in a good way everything just feels more intimate we had an amazing conversation about life this morning and it feels like our bond is on a whole new level. Its time to go explore Atlanta there should be an old NARU field hospital on the North-side of town but we’ve got a whole city to get through before that.
Chapter 7
Atlanta
Atlanta is a nightmare right now we’re stuck in a pharmacy bunch of freaks trying to get to us. I’m busy wiring up a pipe bomb while Richie holds the door then when I’m done BOOM
Richie Move....
BOOM....
Well that’s one way to deal with freaks. Always hate being covered in gore though. We’re near the city centre now and its as bad as we thought the place is infested with freaks every building, street and alley we’ve been fighting for every mile we’ve been moving basically carving our way through the city leaving streets flooded in blood but its worth it I can see the NARU hospital and it looks like I might be able to get in this time.
We’re Exploring the NARU hospital and its a goldmine I found a bunch of old documentation on the virus and even some reports of small towns keeping quarantine for years after the Fall. There’s also apparently an old supply and weapons depot nearby so were going there next.
Richie has been opening up a lot his little sister was out playing when a freak got her. Her parents couldn’t put her down so she turned and bit them he hid in the bathroom for 2 days before I got there and put then out of the misery. I wish I could understand how he feels because I never had anyone except my mom and I lost her so young so it never really affected me. I love him so much. This would be so difficult without him.
We made it to the NARU supply depot and it basically empty I mean it make sense Atlanta was one of the first city to fall due to vast number of infected that moved in from the nearby NARU detention camp. That was a bright idea locking up a bunch infected in one place and expecting the place to last. So the city fell to chaos pretty quickly and NARU withdrew most likely taking everything with them that or it was looted after the city fell doesn’t matter now its almost night and we should get some rest we’re going to camp on a nearby rooftop.
Sitting on the roof with Richie and a fire I can’t help but feel like life isn’t that bad yeah its not what it used to be but I mean I have food and freedom and someone I love what more could someone want from life. Looking out at the desolate streets full of freaks well except the streets we pushed through I see the death of the old world and the birth of a new one.
I should get to sleep we got a long road to Birmingham tomorrow. Its so warm and cosy pressed up against Richie.
Chapter 8
The Road To Birmingham
On our way out of Atlanta we ran into a huge freak and I mean a huge motherfucker must’ve been at least 10 feet tall and covered in muscle it looked like it was made of at least 5 other freaks. He tossed Richie against a car and knocked him out I managed to chop one of its arms off before it threw me 10 feat in the air and I crashed down on my back and passed out when I woke up Richie was putting round after round in the things chest and it still wouldn’t go down to I ran jumped on its back and used my machete to chop the freaks head off and burnt the body with a molotov just to be sure the thing was dead
Richie was pretty beat up and I’m not going to lie so was I my back hurts like a bitch but we keep on going no matter what because we still have each other. Still I wonder how those freaks got combined into that thing. Maybe that’s why they pile the way they do so they can combine into something bigger I remember something in one of the NARU document mentioning the virus being able to cause “cellular recombination” so I wonder if that’s not maybe what happened and if it is it means things are about to get a lot worse and a lot more dangerous.
We’re about 50 miles always from Birmingham now. The road has been pretty quite only the occasional group of freaks and the group of raiders we ran into outside a gas station awhile back but this time we got the drop on them and not the other way round gave all three of them a new hole in the head Richie was worried that they might be survivors till we found Sandra tied up in the gas station bathroom turns out the bastards grabbed her from her family farm during the night a few days ago and have been taking turns on her over and over since then. We agreed to take her home its the least we could do after everything that happened to her. When we got her home we found the place burnt down and her family butchered outside. I’m guessing after they grabbed her the bastards came back to finish the job. She’s decided to stick with us she’s a lot older than me and Richie. She used to be a nurse before the Outbreak she dealt with some of the first infected until NARU took over the hospitals. When things really started to go bad she moved back to Alabama to her old family farm to live with her parents they managed to set everything up before the Fall and have been living there since well till recently. She’s pretty shook about the whole situation but she should be okay in a day or two. We’ve all lost something in this new world.
We’ve made it to the outskirts of Birmingham and the place is a fortress looks like remnants of the US military and NARU have fortified the place they have watch towers, auto-turrents and armed patrols. Also looks like they have a lot of military hardware. I know better than to approach the main gate NARU has a shoot on site order for all there quarantine zones no reason to assume this place would be any different. Still I have to get a look inside. Tonight while Richie and Sandra set up camp I’m going to look around and see if I can find a way in. I have to know what’s going on here.
I’ve taken a look around and I’ve found a way in through an old sewer pipe running into an old factory from there I should be able to sneak into the city and have a look around maybe they have some new information on the virus or at least I should be able to find some weapons for Sandra
Chapter 9
Birmingham
Richie and Sandra are waiting for me back at camp while I go explore the city. I left most of my kit behind except my Glock and combat knife. I’m not planning on getting into any fights and if I do I want the finished as quickly as possible. I’ve made it to the sewer pipe it should lead me to the sewer grate I saw on the other side of the fence from there I should have free reign over the city as long as I avoid the NARU patrols and don’t draw to much attention to myself.
I’ve made it into the city and it looks like something out of a George Orwell novel. Security cameras on every street, I’ve seen security forces beat a man to death and another group drag a young women kicking and screaming into an abandoned building. I hate to say it but I think life is better outside with the freaks than in here. Can’t say I’m surprised there’s a reason I left the NARU security forces and the safe zone. Lets just say civilian life and happiness has never been on their priority list. I can see a NARU supply depot I should be able to get a uniform and standard load out last I remember NARU doesn’t have a way of removing employees from the database so my security id number should still work.
I was right NARU never changes I just used my id to get a brand new NARU-P-2a NARU's home grown assault rifle basically its everything the AR-15 is but better its literally a gun made for killing freaks and you can feel it. I always wished I stole one when I left but I guess better late than never I also scanned through a few of the latest security reports and it seems like big guys like we fought back in Atlanta are becoming more common as well as a new faster infected with razor sharp claws that hunt and ambush their victims. We haven’t ran into one of those yet and I hope we don’t any time soon. I hope Richie and Sandra are okay, they should be we have no shortage of fire-power but I still worry. I’m going to keep taking a look around and maybe find out how they’ve maintained quarantine for so long
Well I got my answer and its not a good one. The NARU higher ups here basically outlawed being sick. Anyone with any symptoms that might be HRV-1 are immediately executed and burnt without exception I guess that’s one way to maintain quarantine but I can’t help but wonder how many thousands of innocent people have died to maintain it.
I think its about time I get out of here and back to Richie and Sandra.
I made it back to camp. I’m so happy to be back with Richie. He went out hunting and brought back a nice fat wild pig for dinner. Sandra is looking a lot better as well she still has that distant look in her eye but that should go away soon
Next stop Montgomery Alabama.
Chapter 10
The Road to Montgomery
I still can’t get it out of my head. The freaks are changing getting more dangerous, if I understand correctly the longer they are infected the more unstable the virus gets leading to mutations. I hope this doesn’t mean that the longer we survive the harder its going to get but there’s no point in worrying about whether or not the freaks are going to be stronger in the future as long as we make sure we get stronger too it should work out just fine. Richie and I are doing really well our love kinda makes everything a lot easier. Gives us a reason if that makes sense Sandra on the other hand is kinda dead weight if I’m being honest but its not her fault. She’s been through a lot Richie and I do our best to look out for her and take care of her. I just wish she’d start to adjust to life out here she still winches every time we take out a group of freaks or thugs and she’s a bleeding heart. Yesterday as we were going past a little abandoned convenience store we heard a little girl crying when we asked what was wrong she said they were trapped and needed help. It was obviously a trap we could see the store was fortified and the little girl looked too happy for a kid whose parents were stuck and dying but Sandra insisted we go in and help and what do you know the kids parents are perfectly healthy and holding us at gun point luckily I’m pretty quick on the draw and managed to put two rounds through the fathers chest and Richie tackled the mom. I walked up to the big dude and put one through the head to make sure the mom learns her lesson. We agreed to let her and her daughter live as long as the promised to stop robbing travellers. Sandra couldn’t handle the fact that I finished the dad off even though I think that was better than leaving his family to watch him bleed out because there was no way he would have survive I shot him through both of his lungs they would have filled up with blood and he would have chocked to death I did him a favour by putting him down but she didn’t see it that way even threatened to go it on her own until Richie and I told her to go ahead if she really thought it was the best thing for her. She then decided to stick with us
We’re nearly at the outskirts of Montgomery, we just passed the old civil rights monument. The roads been a bit too still I have a bad feeling about what we’re going to find when we get there
2024.05.15 01:55 Ill_Community1791 Give it to me straight! :/
I might be in denial and need someone to tell me straight. I was planning on applying this cycle, but now I am having second thoughts. I stalk this page a lot, and compared to other apps, I think I'm below average. I have FAP, which would assist with 20 schools, I probably pay around $1,500 total or so since some secondaries are reduced or waived entirely. I have been doing well on my MCAT prep but haven't taken a new FL yet soo feelings are moot, BP HL I took a few days ago was a 506 so that's progress..right? I could use some honest feedback on my chances if I apply this cycle. I know i probably should but its just a hard pill to swallow.
Overview:
CC transfer->Graduated 2023; 23, URM, low SES GPA: 4.00 3/09 MCAT: 502 planning retake for mid-June, TX resident
Pharmacy tech: ~4,000hrs (This is basically useless for my app since it's not clinical, but I love my job; I get to save pts in long-term care money by making sure their prior authorizations are approved and their medications are covered)
Hospice volunteering: ~100hrs
Food Bank: ~120hrs
OChem 1&2 tutoring: ~60hrs
Research: ~350hrs resulting in 2 poster presentations
Shadowing: ~100 hrs (Gas, Ortho, &Neuro)
Extracurriculars: 2 Leadership positions: ~70hrs
Mentor to CC student: ~30 hrs
Hobbies: Fitness/ Gym (passionate about health), tennis, rock climbing
I would love to stay in TX. Close to family, and I love the community.
What would I prioritize besides my MCAT if I did not apply this cycle? I was thinking about getting a job as an EMT, it seems very rewarding and would help raise my clinical experience (while also still doing nonclinical volunteering)
Thank you!
submitted by Ill_Community1791 to premed [link] [comments]
Overview:
CC transfer->Graduated 2023; 23, URM, low SES GPA: 4.00 3/09 MCAT: 502 planning retake for mid-June, TX resident
Pharmacy tech: ~4,000hrs (This is basically useless for my app since it's not clinical, but I love my job; I get to save pts in long-term care money by making sure their prior authorizations are approved and their medications are covered)
Hospice volunteering: ~100hrs
Food Bank: ~120hrs
OChem 1&2 tutoring: ~60hrs
Research: ~350hrs resulting in 2 poster presentations
Shadowing: ~100 hrs (Gas, Ortho, &Neuro)
Extracurriculars: 2 Leadership positions: ~70hrs
Mentor to CC student: ~30 hrs
Hobbies: Fitness/ Gym (passionate about health), tennis, rock climbing
I would love to stay in TX. Close to family, and I love the community.
What would I prioritize besides my MCAT if I did not apply this cycle? I was thinking about getting a job as an EMT, it seems very rewarding and would help raise my clinical experience (while also still doing nonclinical volunteering)
Thank you!
2024.05.15 01:53 Difficult-Wave9729 A dream or a nightmare?
Do you ever have childhood nightmares or dreams? As for me, at a very young age, I always got nightmares whenever we watched something scary or even just a mention of ghosts. Where I grew up in the Philippines, there was this fantasy show that we watched as kids. Thinking about it now, it's kind of creepy. Whether it was about fairies or friendly ghosts, I still got creeped out and had nightmares about it. There was this nightmare of mine that traumatized me as a kid. You don't really remember your dreams until you're eating breakfast and it suddenly hits you that you had a nightmare before waking up. It's about this island. Imagine the town/island where the Teletubbies are. That one, but imagine it with brown grass instead of green, complete darkness instead of the baby sun, and instead of open space, it's filled with creepy trees. All I remember is running towards that forest and something chasing me. I couldn't look back and kept running. I could feel the trees snitching on my location until I stumbled over a big root of a massive tree. There's a scratch on my knee and I can feel it sting. With my petite body and out-of-breath lungs, all I did was stare at my bleeding knees. I wasn't crying, but I know I was scared. *Dum...dum...dum.* I could hear it, not in my ears but in my heart. It seems like my heart is synchronizing to the vibration. I still don't know what's out there, but I know I should be running away from it. I saw a silhouette walking towards me slowly. It's big, but not giant big. I close my eyes and then suddenly I am awake, lying down straight like a person in a coffin.
I never talked to anyone about my nightmares. It's normal to have nightmares, but the people around me are saying that it's not normal for a kid to sleep straight like a dead body. I never really took it seriously. I kept having weird nightmares of running in a dark place again. I still don't know who's chasing me. When you are a kid, you have very vivid memories of what your childhood was like. Mine is filled with nightmares. I did still enjoy my childhood and yet still able to be a 'normal' kid. I had plenty of friends, played in the street, and did such fun things. I still feel like something is missing and I tend to mix up memories with dreams. When you are a kid, you have such wild imaginations that you think it is real, but once you turn into an adult, you think that it's impossible for that to happen in the real world. That is just one of the nightmares that stuck in my head and that something I still dream about.
I remember having this dream, or perhaps something happened? Until now, it still confuses me, but here's how it goes. I was playing with my cousins and some of our friends. It was in the middle of the night, maybe 8 or 9 PM? I know it was dark, with streetlights shining through the street. Living in the busiest city in the Philippines, you would still see a bunch of people outside. We were playing hide and seek. I was thankful that I was not 'it' this time. As the seeker counted to 10, we all spread around and found a place to hide. I decided to hide behind a motorized tricycle, as we simply call them tricycles (just Google what it looks like). One of my friends came with me, but I told her to go away as I didn’t want to get found. She ran off and found another place to hide. I was chuckling, and I could still hear people around me talking and laughing, but in my mind, I just didn’t want to get caught. I didn’t hide far away from where the seeker was; I could still hear him counting 'and… 10.' Suddenly, everything went quiet. I was quiet too, as I didn’t want him to find me first. I crouched back behind the motorized tricycle, and I could hear him walking far away from me. I sighed with relief. I heard that he found someone far away, as I heard one of my cousins scream in excitement because the seeker found her.
I chuckled.
I didn’t hear any footsteps, but I could see a shadow coming towards me as the tricycle was parked just below a lamppost. I slowly moved around to avoid being found, circling slowly and getting into the rhythm of the shadow. Now, there was a gap inside the motorcycle where I could see the other side. I slowly looked through the gap and, to my surprise, saw a figure looking at me. I got startled, but I didn’t scream. I stood up right away, and to my surprise, I was back there again, on that island. The tricycle that was in front of me became a tree. Not just a tree, but a tree with massive roots that made me stumble in my previous dream. I was confused. Even now, as I think of it, I know it’s not a dream, but it's getting weirder. My first thought was 'Where are my friends?' The figure I saw earlier was gone. I got out from behind that tree and searched around the forest for an exit. As I was running, I could hear mumbling sounds. I was a kid, and my brain was controlling this stuff, so I went and followed the sounds. One sound seemed familiar—it was my friend's voice—but it seemed like something was stuck in her mouth; it was echoing through the forest.
As the sounds became clearer, my eyes couldn’t believe what I saw. My friends and cousins were tied to the trees, their mouths covered with tape. In my mind, I had to get out of there because I was scared as hell, but at the same time, I wanted to help them. I ran to my cousin first, and as I was going near her, a figure appeared behind her tree. It had eight hands like a spider, but it was brown and shaped like a cockroach. It had a face like a human—technically an image of a human in a cockroach-spider-looking costume. His or her face had makeup that blended with what it was wearing, and it was smiling towards me; I could see its yellow teeth.
"We've looked everywhere for you," it said while slowly coming towards me.
I couldn’t speak or move. I was so scared. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.
"Now we can start the game," it said in the friendliest way possible. "I won't hurt you or your friends. I just want to play," it added.
Being raised to be nice to everyone, I nodded. I still wasn't speaking.
"Can I get a hug?" it requested.
I nodded again.
It hugged me, and I could feel all of its legs on my body. The thing I thought was its costume? It was actually connected to it. It was warm, and I just closed my eyes. I touched one of its legs, and it felt sticky. Suddenly, I woke up and saw my grandma's husband staring at me, telling me to wake up as it's time for school, and then he left. I saw my left palm was kind of sticky, sweat, I guess. That's all I can remember from that time. I went to school and lived the rest of the day as a "normal" kid, still thinking about that nightmare. Some of my dreams are not all nightmares; they are happy dreams too. But what's stuck with me is that every time I have a nightmare, it's basically a continuation of the other, but it only happens once I completely forget about it.
Later that same year, I dreamt about it again, but differently. I had already made friends with this creature. It seems that I completely accepted it, and I was not scared of it anymore, but I was not happy either. There was something about it that still seemed odd to me, but I was just not reacting to any of it. We would play tag, hide and seek, and other games. As I noticed the place getting darker and darker, I also noticed that a few of my friends who were in my dreams were getting fewer and fewer until it was just us. It still kept its attitude, lively and happy to play with me. I asked it, "Aren't you sad?" It just kept smiling for a good 5 seconds and slowly frowned, answering, "Why would I? You are all I need as a friend." Then it started jumping around like those mascots you see in kids' TV shows. I remained the same, not happy, not sad, but I went with its flow.
I also noticed that before I woke up, it hugged me, like saying goodbye and at the same time inviting me to see each other again. There was something about its hug too. I could feel the warmth of its eight legs covering my whole body and its breath around my neck. In my dreams, I kept touching at least one of its legs. It seemed that it became a habit, and I could feel it sticky. I woke up again in a straight laying-down position, and my hands were drying, but I could feel the wetness. Then my grandma's new husband was ready to take me to school again.
When I was 9, my mom decided that my siblings, my dad, and I would move to my mom’s side for 3 years before leaving the Philippines. It was my dad's side where I kept having nightmares. I don’t get those nightmares anymore. Sometimes I miss them, and sometimes I wonder if they miss me too. I stopped looking for them. I feel like they went away when I started going to church with my strictly Catholic grandmother. We had to wake up at 6 am to prepare for church, and every day for those 3 years, we had to pray at 7 pm for an hour. We knelt in front of the saints' statues, and my belief in God strengthened. I forgot about the nightmares. I lived like a normal child, had a great childhood, had a bunch of friends, and grew up to be a decent girl. My mom announced that we were all leaving for Canada, and I just remember being so excited about it.
I was 11 years old when I and my friends were playing outside my house. I know I was still a kid then, even if my grandma keeps telling me to stop playing as I am already a grown woman (culture things). Our neighbour's are like aunts and uncles to us; I play with their kids sometimes who're the same age as me. We are all close to each other, even the adults. They treat us as their own since my mom grew up with them as well. One of my neighbors, whom I called “Tito” (uncle in Tagalog), called me and asked me when we were leaving for the Philippines. I told him soon, and he told me how I looked like my mom. I told him how much I miss my mom and how I cannot wait to see her again. He gave me a hug, and then my world stopped. This hug looks familiar. I can feel his breathing around my neck and the warmth of his hug. His hands are playing on my back, slowly stroking it. I swallowed and told him that I had to go since my grandma was probably looking for me. He let go and smiled at me. I just felt tears running through my eyes, and everything came back.
I was SA when I was a kid. I was SA by my step grandfather at my dad’s side. I feel like throwing up, and I can feel everything crawling toward me. I remember the first time he did it. When my mom left, he started touching me. As a kid, I treated him as a monster and just created these scenarios in my head. Even my childhood friends saw it, but since we were kids at the time, what would they know? It was inside the motorized trycicle where he was touching all over, but he said that we were just playing hide and seek and that he found me. It was then that I was so ashamed to play with my friends, as I remember one of my cousins stopping coming over because he started touching her too. The place is my dark place. Now I remember everything. I was so mad and angry. I remember that I would wake up in those positions after he touched me and felt my whole body. And remember the sticky thing in my hands? Yeah, it was his semen that he wiped away before I got to sleep, which is why whenever I am about to wake up, he is almost always there.
Now that I am in my 20s, I have tried to move on, yet the trauma still lingers within me. That monster died a few years ago, and his last words to me were, “Do you still remember me?”. I never had a chance to confront him. I opened up about my experience to a couple of my friends and gave advice to those who have experienced it too. I help those friends of mine who are still experiencing it and assist them in getting out of that situation. My only regret is that I was too afraid. I used to blame myself, but not anymore. None of it is my fault; I was just a child. I was not strong enough to keep my peace, still thinking that it is all a dream for the sake of my peace of mind. I wanted to apologize to the kid in me for not protecting her during those times, but I will never let that happen again to anyone that I know of. I now live in Canada, working in an office and happily thinking that my monster’s body is burning in hell. Thank you for reading. Please always watch out for whoever is watching your kids, your younger siblings, as you never know even the very person you trust can do massive damage to your loved ones.
What happened to me is not a dream or a nightmare. It's reality.
submitted by Difficult-Wave9729 to nosleep [link] [comments]
I never talked to anyone about my nightmares. It's normal to have nightmares, but the people around me are saying that it's not normal for a kid to sleep straight like a dead body. I never really took it seriously. I kept having weird nightmares of running in a dark place again. I still don't know who's chasing me. When you are a kid, you have very vivid memories of what your childhood was like. Mine is filled with nightmares. I did still enjoy my childhood and yet still able to be a 'normal' kid. I had plenty of friends, played in the street, and did such fun things. I still feel like something is missing and I tend to mix up memories with dreams. When you are a kid, you have such wild imaginations that you think it is real, but once you turn into an adult, you think that it's impossible for that to happen in the real world. That is just one of the nightmares that stuck in my head and that something I still dream about.
I remember having this dream, or perhaps something happened? Until now, it still confuses me, but here's how it goes. I was playing with my cousins and some of our friends. It was in the middle of the night, maybe 8 or 9 PM? I know it was dark, with streetlights shining through the street. Living in the busiest city in the Philippines, you would still see a bunch of people outside. We were playing hide and seek. I was thankful that I was not 'it' this time. As the seeker counted to 10, we all spread around and found a place to hide. I decided to hide behind a motorized tricycle, as we simply call them tricycles (just Google what it looks like). One of my friends came with me, but I told her to go away as I didn’t want to get found. She ran off and found another place to hide. I was chuckling, and I could still hear people around me talking and laughing, but in my mind, I just didn’t want to get caught. I didn’t hide far away from where the seeker was; I could still hear him counting 'and… 10.' Suddenly, everything went quiet. I was quiet too, as I didn’t want him to find me first. I crouched back behind the motorized tricycle, and I could hear him walking far away from me. I sighed with relief. I heard that he found someone far away, as I heard one of my cousins scream in excitement because the seeker found her.
I chuckled.
I didn’t hear any footsteps, but I could see a shadow coming towards me as the tricycle was parked just below a lamppost. I slowly moved around to avoid being found, circling slowly and getting into the rhythm of the shadow. Now, there was a gap inside the motorcycle where I could see the other side. I slowly looked through the gap and, to my surprise, saw a figure looking at me. I got startled, but I didn’t scream. I stood up right away, and to my surprise, I was back there again, on that island. The tricycle that was in front of me became a tree. Not just a tree, but a tree with massive roots that made me stumble in my previous dream. I was confused. Even now, as I think of it, I know it’s not a dream, but it's getting weirder. My first thought was 'Where are my friends?' The figure I saw earlier was gone. I got out from behind that tree and searched around the forest for an exit. As I was running, I could hear mumbling sounds. I was a kid, and my brain was controlling this stuff, so I went and followed the sounds. One sound seemed familiar—it was my friend's voice—but it seemed like something was stuck in her mouth; it was echoing through the forest.
As the sounds became clearer, my eyes couldn’t believe what I saw. My friends and cousins were tied to the trees, their mouths covered with tape. In my mind, I had to get out of there because I was scared as hell, but at the same time, I wanted to help them. I ran to my cousin first, and as I was going near her, a figure appeared behind her tree. It had eight hands like a spider, but it was brown and shaped like a cockroach. It had a face like a human—technically an image of a human in a cockroach-spider-looking costume. His or her face had makeup that blended with what it was wearing, and it was smiling towards me; I could see its yellow teeth.
"We've looked everywhere for you," it said while slowly coming towards me.
I couldn’t speak or move. I was so scared. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't.
"Now we can start the game," it said in the friendliest way possible. "I won't hurt you or your friends. I just want to play," it added.
Being raised to be nice to everyone, I nodded. I still wasn't speaking.
"Can I get a hug?" it requested.
I nodded again.
It hugged me, and I could feel all of its legs on my body. The thing I thought was its costume? It was actually connected to it. It was warm, and I just closed my eyes. I touched one of its legs, and it felt sticky. Suddenly, I woke up and saw my grandma's husband staring at me, telling me to wake up as it's time for school, and then he left. I saw my left palm was kind of sticky, sweat, I guess. That's all I can remember from that time. I went to school and lived the rest of the day as a "normal" kid, still thinking about that nightmare. Some of my dreams are not all nightmares; they are happy dreams too. But what's stuck with me is that every time I have a nightmare, it's basically a continuation of the other, but it only happens once I completely forget about it.
Later that same year, I dreamt about it again, but differently. I had already made friends with this creature. It seems that I completely accepted it, and I was not scared of it anymore, but I was not happy either. There was something about it that still seemed odd to me, but I was just not reacting to any of it. We would play tag, hide and seek, and other games. As I noticed the place getting darker and darker, I also noticed that a few of my friends who were in my dreams were getting fewer and fewer until it was just us. It still kept its attitude, lively and happy to play with me. I asked it, "Aren't you sad?" It just kept smiling for a good 5 seconds and slowly frowned, answering, "Why would I? You are all I need as a friend." Then it started jumping around like those mascots you see in kids' TV shows. I remained the same, not happy, not sad, but I went with its flow.
I also noticed that before I woke up, it hugged me, like saying goodbye and at the same time inviting me to see each other again. There was something about its hug too. I could feel the warmth of its eight legs covering my whole body and its breath around my neck. In my dreams, I kept touching at least one of its legs. It seemed that it became a habit, and I could feel it sticky. I woke up again in a straight laying-down position, and my hands were drying, but I could feel the wetness. Then my grandma's new husband was ready to take me to school again.
When I was 9, my mom decided that my siblings, my dad, and I would move to my mom’s side for 3 years before leaving the Philippines. It was my dad's side where I kept having nightmares. I don’t get those nightmares anymore. Sometimes I miss them, and sometimes I wonder if they miss me too. I stopped looking for them. I feel like they went away when I started going to church with my strictly Catholic grandmother. We had to wake up at 6 am to prepare for church, and every day for those 3 years, we had to pray at 7 pm for an hour. We knelt in front of the saints' statues, and my belief in God strengthened. I forgot about the nightmares. I lived like a normal child, had a great childhood, had a bunch of friends, and grew up to be a decent girl. My mom announced that we were all leaving for Canada, and I just remember being so excited about it.
I was 11 years old when I and my friends were playing outside my house. I know I was still a kid then, even if my grandma keeps telling me to stop playing as I am already a grown woman (culture things). Our neighbour's are like aunts and uncles to us; I play with their kids sometimes who're the same age as me. We are all close to each other, even the adults. They treat us as their own since my mom grew up with them as well. One of my neighbors, whom I called “Tito” (uncle in Tagalog), called me and asked me when we were leaving for the Philippines. I told him soon, and he told me how I looked like my mom. I told him how much I miss my mom and how I cannot wait to see her again. He gave me a hug, and then my world stopped. This hug looks familiar. I can feel his breathing around my neck and the warmth of his hug. His hands are playing on my back, slowly stroking it. I swallowed and told him that I had to go since my grandma was probably looking for me. He let go and smiled at me. I just felt tears running through my eyes, and everything came back.
I was SA when I was a kid. I was SA by my step grandfather at my dad’s side. I feel like throwing up, and I can feel everything crawling toward me. I remember the first time he did it. When my mom left, he started touching me. As a kid, I treated him as a monster and just created these scenarios in my head. Even my childhood friends saw it, but since we were kids at the time, what would they know? It was inside the motorized trycicle where he was touching all over, but he said that we were just playing hide and seek and that he found me. It was then that I was so ashamed to play with my friends, as I remember one of my cousins stopping coming over because he started touching her too. The place is my dark place. Now I remember everything. I was so mad and angry. I remember that I would wake up in those positions after he touched me and felt my whole body. And remember the sticky thing in my hands? Yeah, it was his semen that he wiped away before I got to sleep, which is why whenever I am about to wake up, he is almost always there.
Now that I am in my 20s, I have tried to move on, yet the trauma still lingers within me. That monster died a few years ago, and his last words to me were, “Do you still remember me?”. I never had a chance to confront him. I opened up about my experience to a couple of my friends and gave advice to those who have experienced it too. I help those friends of mine who are still experiencing it and assist them in getting out of that situation. My only regret is that I was too afraid. I used to blame myself, but not anymore. None of it is my fault; I was just a child. I was not strong enough to keep my peace, still thinking that it is all a dream for the sake of my peace of mind. I wanted to apologize to the kid in me for not protecting her during those times, but I will never let that happen again to anyone that I know of. I now live in Canada, working in an office and happily thinking that my monster’s body is burning in hell. Thank you for reading. Please always watch out for whoever is watching your kids, your younger siblings, as you never know even the very person you trust can do massive damage to your loved ones.
What happened to me is not a dream or a nightmare. It's reality.
2024.05.15 01:51 wildswalker [WTS] The Great Gear Sale Part 2: Headlamps, Ultralight Fast Snowshoes, Gaiter, Hiking Crampons, Waterproof Breathable Stretch Pants, Merino, Canister Fuel Transfer Device, etc. + Free Stickers w/every item
Great feedback history so buy with confidence. Ship to lower48 states (open to shipping internationally and to AK & HI, please ask). Paypal friends & family preferred or add 3% for Paypal goods & services fee. Just let me know which items you’d like and I’ll check the least expensive UPS and USPS tracked shipping. All sales are final. Thanks for looking!
*** Waterproof Breathable Pants **\*
1) Men’s Mammut Waterproof Breathable Stretch Schoeller Pants for winter hiking, skiing, snowshoeing, climbing and mountaineering, Men’s 34-38 waist, never worn, $159 shipped (sold for $349 + tax) - Mammut makes some of the best outdoor pants in the world, with a fantastic cut that really moves with you. These Men’s Mammut Castor pants have the stretch comfort and toughness of a soft shell with the waterproof breathable membrane of a hardshell, and built-in internal gaiters and reinforced wear areas. They are great for winter hiking, snowshoeing, climbing, mountaineering and skiing. Two zipped front pockets, one zipped rear pocket, zipped mesh thigh vents, belt loops, snap zip fly, mesh lining, reinforced cuffs to protect against metal-edge skis, crampons and snowshoes, internal gaiters to stop snow from getting in your boots, zippered ankle openings with velcro closures. Absolutely bullet-proof pants. Fits Men’s waist 34-38 in. thanks to awesome stretch in the Schoeller stretch fabric. https://www.trailspace.com/geamammut/castor-pants/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/YjKvQVK
2) Women’s Mammut Waterproof Breathable Stretch Schoeller Pants for winter hiking, skiing, snowshoeing, climbing and mountaineering, EU Women’s size 38 (US W’s Size 6-8), never worn, $149 shipped (sold for $349 + Tax) - See description above. Two zipped front pockets, one zipped rear pocket, zipped mesh thigh vents, belt loops, snap zip fly, mesh lining, reinforced cuffs to protect against metal-edge skis, crampons and snowshoes, internal gaiters to stop snow from getting in your boots, zippered ankle openings with velcro closures. Absolutely bullet-proof pants. Size is EU 38 Petite, but pants are sized for great coverage and long enough that they should fit regular inseam too. https://www.trailspace.com/geamammut/castor-pants/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/kYE1kkD
*** Ultralight Snowshoes (buy now and save over next winter) **\*
3) Northern Lites Elite Snowshoes 25 in., Red with Gray Decking, New, $175 (Regularly $234.95 + tax) Northern Lites are the lightest and fastest to hike in snowshoes, thanks to the ultralight materials and rounded frame. NL’s are a favorite of snowshoe racers. https://northernlites.com/products/elite?variant=29843534512210 Photos: https://imgur.com/a/a3P0B37
4) Northern Lites Tundra 33 in. snowshoe with new Speed Spin bindings, New, $199 (Regularly $274.95 + tax) The new Speed Spin bindings are super fast, adjust in seconds in one quick turn of a knob instead of pulling and securing multiple straps one at a time. https://northernlites.com/products/tundra Photos: https://imgur.com/a/yUCtsLW
*** GAITERS **\*
5) Hillsound Super Armadillo Nano Gaiter, Small, New, $79 (Regularly $104.95 + shipping) - Top-notch gaiter with thermoregulation and self-cleaning embedded in the upper section. Material adjusts to your temperature - keeps you warm or cools you off as needed and no water or dirt gets absorbed by the material. Lower section which is abrasion and slash/puncture-resistant. Both sections are waterproof and breathable. Keep out snow, slush, rain, mud, scree, rocks, debris and dust and save your lower legs from brushy conditions. For mountaineering, backpacking, snowshoeing and hunting. Built to last and covered by a limited lifetime warranty. Photos: https://imgur.com/a/9gIO1QG https://hillsound.com/products/super-armadillo-nano
**\* HEADLAMPS *** Photos: https://imgur.com/a/Mnrxp1w
6) FENIX HP25R Max 1000 Lumens 187 Meters High Output Rechargeable Headlamp with Neutral White Floodlight and Far-Reaching Spotlight, $59 (Regularly $102 + tax). Super bright headlamp with massive light throw. New, taken out of the box for a moment for a demo. There’s a tear in one corner of the cardboard box (which you wouldn’t keep anyway). External battery chamber on back of band for balanced weight. https://www.fenixlighting.com/products/fenix-hp25r-rechargeable-headlamp
7) COAST FL75R Rechargeable Headlamp Kit, New $45 (Regularly $59.99 + tax and shipping) - Up to 530 lumens brightness, 511 ft range, with adjustable focusing beam from bulls-eye spot to wide flood. Comes with both rechargeable battery up to 500 charges and 3 Duracells AAA. Note that though this is new in the plastic see-through package, I can see that one of the included duracells in the plastic package leaked (these are in a separate compartment in the plastic blister package, not in the headlamp, and do not affect the headlamp at all). https://coastportland.com/collections/headlamps/products/fl75r
8) Fenix E16 Portable, High Performance 700 lumen EDC Flashlight, New, $25(Regularly $39.95 + tax and shipping) - 700 lumen, 5 Modes, 16340 or CR123A battery.
9) Petzl eLite Ultralight Emergency Headlight & Signal Device, Pair, Never Used, only $20 for both (retailed for double the price) - includes adjustable headband and protective cases, many light settings including white, red, steady and blinking.
**\* HIKING CRAMPONS FOR TRACTION ON ICE & STEEP GRASS SLOPES *** Photos: https://imgur.com/a/ZbSvp4I
10) Hillsound Trail Crampon Hiking and Backpacking Crampon, Small, New, $65 (Regularly $84.95). Later fall, winter and early spring are some of the best hiking times, with so much beauty and lack of crowds. Don’t let lack of traction stop you and avoid injury due to slips. Specs & Size Guide: https://hillsound.com/collections/traction/products/trail-crampon
11) Hillsound Trail Crampon Hiking and Backpacking Crampon, XL, New, $65 (regularly $84.95). Same as above. Specs & Size Guide: https://hillsound.com/collections/traction/products/trail-crampon
12) Hillsound FreeStep 6 Hiking and Backpacking Crampon, Small, New, $52 (regularly $64.95) A slightly less aggressive and lighter crampon than the Trail Crampon above. Specs & Size Guide: https://hillsound.com/collections/traction/products/freesteps6-traction-device
*** MERINO **\*
13) Women’s Medium Merino Long Sleeved Crew, Black, 100% Merino, New, only $39 (Regularly $75 + tax and shipping). Photos: https://imgur.com/a/XuJLsINOdlo of Norway is a top quality Norwegian-founded Swiss-engineered European merino and outerwear maker. Looks sharp on trail, in town and at work. Only 6.3 oz (180g) with tags.
*** Kitchen *** Photos: https://imgur.com/a/TfCHUez
14) FlipFuel Fuel Transfer Device, New, $25 (Regularly $35 + tax) - Save gas from your half-empty canisters, super easy to use, compact and ultralight. https://www.flipfuel.co/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/nY5PQNi
**\* POCKET SURVIVAL PACKS **\*
15) Adventure Medical Kits Doug Ritter Equipped to Survive Pocket Survival Packs, New, $15 each (was $26.99 + tax and shipping) - a collaboration with survival expert Doug Ritter, of Equipped to Survive. Photos: https://imgur.com/a/POeccVT
Thanks for stopping by!
submitted by wildswalker to GearTrade [link] [comments]
*** Waterproof Breathable Pants **\*
1) Men’s Mammut Waterproof Breathable Stretch Schoeller Pants for winter hiking, skiing, snowshoeing, climbing and mountaineering, Men’s 34-38 waist, never worn, $159 shipped (sold for $349 + tax) - Mammut makes some of the best outdoor pants in the world, with a fantastic cut that really moves with you. These Men’s Mammut Castor pants have the stretch comfort and toughness of a soft shell with the waterproof breathable membrane of a hardshell, and built-in internal gaiters and reinforced wear areas. They are great for winter hiking, snowshoeing, climbing, mountaineering and skiing. Two zipped front pockets, one zipped rear pocket, zipped mesh thigh vents, belt loops, snap zip fly, mesh lining, reinforced cuffs to protect against metal-edge skis, crampons and snowshoes, internal gaiters to stop snow from getting in your boots, zippered ankle openings with velcro closures. Absolutely bullet-proof pants. Fits Men’s waist 34-38 in. thanks to awesome stretch in the Schoeller stretch fabric. https://www.trailspace.com/geamammut/castor-pants/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/YjKvQVK
2) Women’s Mammut Waterproof Breathable Stretch Schoeller Pants for winter hiking, skiing, snowshoeing, climbing and mountaineering, EU Women’s size 38 (US W’s Size 6-8), never worn, $149 shipped (sold for $349 + Tax) - See description above. Two zipped front pockets, one zipped rear pocket, zipped mesh thigh vents, belt loops, snap zip fly, mesh lining, reinforced cuffs to protect against metal-edge skis, crampons and snowshoes, internal gaiters to stop snow from getting in your boots, zippered ankle openings with velcro closures. Absolutely bullet-proof pants. Size is EU 38 Petite, but pants are sized for great coverage and long enough that they should fit regular inseam too. https://www.trailspace.com/geamammut/castor-pants/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/kYE1kkD
*** Ultralight Snowshoes (buy now and save over next winter) **\*
3) Northern Lites Elite Snowshoes 25 in., Red with Gray Decking, New, $175 (Regularly $234.95 + tax) Northern Lites are the lightest and fastest to hike in snowshoes, thanks to the ultralight materials and rounded frame. NL’s are a favorite of snowshoe racers. https://northernlites.com/products/elite?variant=29843534512210 Photos: https://imgur.com/a/a3P0B37
4) Northern Lites Tundra 33 in. snowshoe with new Speed Spin bindings, New, $199 (Regularly $274.95 + tax) The new Speed Spin bindings are super fast, adjust in seconds in one quick turn of a knob instead of pulling and securing multiple straps one at a time. https://northernlites.com/products/tundra Photos: https://imgur.com/a/yUCtsLW
*** GAITERS **\*
5) Hillsound Super Armadillo Nano Gaiter, Small, New, $79 (Regularly $104.95 + shipping) - Top-notch gaiter with thermoregulation and self-cleaning embedded in the upper section. Material adjusts to your temperature - keeps you warm or cools you off as needed and no water or dirt gets absorbed by the material. Lower section which is abrasion and slash/puncture-resistant. Both sections are waterproof and breathable. Keep out snow, slush, rain, mud, scree, rocks, debris and dust and save your lower legs from brushy conditions. For mountaineering, backpacking, snowshoeing and hunting. Built to last and covered by a limited lifetime warranty. Photos: https://imgur.com/a/9gIO1QG https://hillsound.com/products/super-armadillo-nano
**\* HEADLAMPS *** Photos: https://imgur.com/a/Mnrxp1w
6) FENIX HP25R Max 1000 Lumens 187 Meters High Output Rechargeable Headlamp with Neutral White Floodlight and Far-Reaching Spotlight, $59 (Regularly $102 + tax). Super bright headlamp with massive light throw. New, taken out of the box for a moment for a demo. There’s a tear in one corner of the cardboard box (which you wouldn’t keep anyway). External battery chamber on back of band for balanced weight. https://www.fenixlighting.com/products/fenix-hp25r-rechargeable-headlamp
7) COAST FL75R Rechargeable Headlamp Kit, New $45 (Regularly $59.99 + tax and shipping) - Up to 530 lumens brightness, 511 ft range, with adjustable focusing beam from bulls-eye spot to wide flood. Comes with both rechargeable battery up to 500 charges and 3 Duracells AAA. Note that though this is new in the plastic see-through package, I can see that one of the included duracells in the plastic package leaked (these are in a separate compartment in the plastic blister package, not in the headlamp, and do not affect the headlamp at all). https://coastportland.com/collections/headlamps/products/fl75r
8) Fenix E16 Portable, High Performance 700 lumen EDC Flashlight, New, $25(Regularly $39.95 + tax and shipping) - 700 lumen, 5 Modes, 16340 or CR123A battery.
9) Petzl eLite Ultralight Emergency Headlight & Signal Device, Pair, Never Used, only $20 for both (retailed for double the price) - includes adjustable headband and protective cases, many light settings including white, red, steady and blinking.
**\* HIKING CRAMPONS FOR TRACTION ON ICE & STEEP GRASS SLOPES *** Photos: https://imgur.com/a/ZbSvp4I
10) Hillsound Trail Crampon Hiking and Backpacking Crampon, Small, New, $65 (Regularly $84.95). Later fall, winter and early spring are some of the best hiking times, with so much beauty and lack of crowds. Don’t let lack of traction stop you and avoid injury due to slips. Specs & Size Guide: https://hillsound.com/collections/traction/products/trail-crampon
11) Hillsound Trail Crampon Hiking and Backpacking Crampon, XL, New, $65 (regularly $84.95). Same as above. Specs & Size Guide: https://hillsound.com/collections/traction/products/trail-crampon
12) Hillsound FreeStep 6 Hiking and Backpacking Crampon, Small, New, $52 (regularly $64.95) A slightly less aggressive and lighter crampon than the Trail Crampon above. Specs & Size Guide: https://hillsound.com/collections/traction/products/freesteps6-traction-device
*** MERINO **\*
13) Women’s Medium Merino Long Sleeved Crew, Black, 100% Merino, New, only $39 (Regularly $75 + tax and shipping). Photos: https://imgur.com/a/XuJLsINOdlo of Norway is a top quality Norwegian-founded Swiss-engineered European merino and outerwear maker. Looks sharp on trail, in town and at work. Only 6.3 oz (180g) with tags.
*** Kitchen *** Photos: https://imgur.com/a/TfCHUez
14) FlipFuel Fuel Transfer Device, New, $25 (Regularly $35 + tax) - Save gas from your half-empty canisters, super easy to use, compact and ultralight. https://www.flipfuel.co/ Photos: https://imgur.com/a/nY5PQNi
**\* POCKET SURVIVAL PACKS **\*
15) Adventure Medical Kits Doug Ritter Equipped to Survive Pocket Survival Packs, New, $15 each (was $26.99 + tax and shipping) - a collaboration with survival expert Doug Ritter, of Equipped to Survive. Photos: https://imgur.com/a/POeccVT
Thanks for stopping by!
2024.05.15 01:45 allisonrx What the heck! 😭
I have been getting Wegovy and I was up 1.7 mg. I had that strength filled last month with no problem. Along with all the other past ones. The Pharmacy filled the 1.7mg on the seventh of this month and I decided that strength was making me sick so I had them return the prescription that was filled this month for the 1.7 MG back to stock and did not pick it up. I wanted to go back to the 1mg. Doctor sent a new prescription for the 1mg on the 7th if this month. The insurance assured me there was still a prior auth on file for my secondary insurance due to my primary insurance not covering the medication. All of a sudden my primary insurance (Medicare) wants a diagnosis code. Which the insurance said they needed the diagnosis code for weight loss on the prescription. So I messaged my doctor and she sent a new prescription in today for a diagnosis code for weight loss. I called the pharmacy and it was still not going through. The technician went way above and beyond and found out what was needed. Apparently she spoke to the supervisor this time and they said it needed a diagnosis code that was different than for weight loss. All the work I had my doctor nurse do and sent a new prescription for the 1 MG. Then a prescription with a diagnosis code for weight loss for the 1 MG and still a problem. I need another diagnosis code other than weight loss. I did have cancer and now my cancer plans have went down since I’ve been on this. I do have to walk with a cane due to imbalance so I cannot do any kind of exercises to lose my weight. I do have back problems and weight has made it more painful. I was borderline with diabetes, but I do not need to check my blood sugar or anything like that. I do take metformin 1000 MG so I have no idea what kind of diagnosis code they would want to cover the Medicare part of UPMC For Life. ☹️ I have Medicare and Medicaid both threw UPMC
submitted by allisonrx to WegovyWeightLoss [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 01:43 bobsballs77 Cost shock, feeling defeated
Wow, wow. My (31F) and my wife (33F) just got a bill for our first egg retrieval — $30K. We are SHOCKED. This is significantly more expensive than estimates we got. Our Colorado clinic was just bought by a New York clinic, so this is part of it (ex: now ICSI is required). We are devastated because this one retrieval (scheduled for May 26) has completely used up our $25K lifetime fertility benefit thought my wife’s insurance. We are paying $6K out of pocket plus $2,500 for known donor expenses and $1,500 for medications, and we’re feeling pretty tapped out. At this point, we are thinking we’ll have to wait until next year to switch to my insurance (CO has a new state fertility benefit — I am eligible but my wife isn’t because her company is based out of state) to do our first FET. Who knows if we’ll even get any viable embryos from this first retrieval. We are so sad and feel defeated before we’ve even really begun! Has anyone gone through something similar? Does anyone have clever tips and tricks for getting care covered? Any advice or words of encouragement would be much appreciated <3
submitted by bobsballs77 to IVF [link] [comments]
2024.05.15 01:41 Square-Science7852 Seller’s Right to Option Money
I went under contract for a condo in Austin last week. I paid $3,055 in option money, which my realtor reassured me would be refundable as long as I pulled out before the end of the option period ended on 3/10. After the inspection revealed some issues with hot water and washedryer hookups (two non-negotiables for me), I asked my agent if she could try to negotiate more time so that I could get a quote from an electrician and plumber.
The sellers agreed to a 1 day extension for the option period and on 5/9 I signed an amendment stating that I would pay $1 of additional option money to extend the period through 5pm in 5/11. But then on 5/11 I told my realtor I couldn’t move forward given the risks, and she sent me two documents to sign: a contract termination letter and the release of earnest money letter. I signed both immediately on 5/11.
Today I received an email from the title company reminding me to pay the $1, to which I responded saying something like “oh you must not have heard that I terminated the deal. Let me know when I can get my $3k back!”. Almost immediately thereafter, my agent’s assistant emailed me telling me to pay ASAP. So I did, to cover my bases, but then inquired about why it was required even after the termination.
Fast forward to now, I’ve come to find out that the term was never counter-signed by the seller. The selling agent said they were “waiting on my $1 in option money” and therefore the seller is entitled to keep my initial $3k payment.
My agent never told me to pay the $1 in the first place and never indicated that the termination was not valid until we received counter signature. But now I am panicking that the selling agent is right, the term didn’t go through, and I lose half of my down payment.
Is this on me? Is there anything I can do to get the money back? Who should I be mad at? Help!!!
submitted by Square-Science7852 to FirstTimeHomeBuyer [link] [comments]
The sellers agreed to a 1 day extension for the option period and on 5/9 I signed an amendment stating that I would pay $1 of additional option money to extend the period through 5pm in 5/11. But then on 5/11 I told my realtor I couldn’t move forward given the risks, and she sent me two documents to sign: a contract termination letter and the release of earnest money letter. I signed both immediately on 5/11.
Today I received an email from the title company reminding me to pay the $1, to which I responded saying something like “oh you must not have heard that I terminated the deal. Let me know when I can get my $3k back!”. Almost immediately thereafter, my agent’s assistant emailed me telling me to pay ASAP. So I did, to cover my bases, but then inquired about why it was required even after the termination.
Fast forward to now, I’ve come to find out that the term was never counter-signed by the seller. The selling agent said they were “waiting on my $1 in option money” and therefore the seller is entitled to keep my initial $3k payment.
My agent never told me to pay the $1 in the first place and never indicated that the termination was not valid until we received counter signature. But now I am panicking that the selling agent is right, the term didn’t go through, and I lose half of my down payment.
Is this on me? Is there anything I can do to get the money back? Who should I be mad at? Help!!!
2024.05.15 01:40 katelovesmeiu Professional Challenger Coach Verified Metafy & Coachify Partner Eight Years of Coaching Experience Over 7.000 Sessions Held Over 4.000 Students US Collegiate Coach Guaranteed Improvement & Personalized Plans Available Coaching Subscriptions & Individual Sessions Discord > shelbion👑
Book Your Free Consultation Today! > Discord @ shelbion
Some of my notable achievements as a player include:
I've studied the techniques of renowned coaches, such as LS, MagiFelix, and others, and I've developed my unique coaching approach. So far, my approach has helped countless individuals, and over 20 teams advance their competitive play, across 5 different continents, including members of various College and University eSport Teams.
Some of my notable achievements include:
We hold various events on a weekly basis, including 1v1 & 5v5 tournaments, meme contests, and more. There are plenty of rewards to be won, including free coaching sessions with me. To join our community, visit https://discord.gg/RHW9BMxRd5 and message me upon joining to receive your role.
The First Session is designed to assess your current level of gameplay and identify areas for improvement. After conducting an analysis, I will create a Personalized Coaching Plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan will outline a series of sessions designed to maximize your improvement.
The Coaching Plan may include various session types, such as:
Payments are usually done through PayPal, however other forms of Payment such as Direct Transfer can be discussed.
Feel free to message me either on Discord or through a Direct Message on Reddit and I will come back to you as quickly as possible.
submitted by katelovesmeiu to LeagueMarket [link] [comments]
About Me
My name is Shelbion and I've been an avid League of Legends player for over a decade. In Season 4, I reached Challenger for the first time and even considered pursuing a professional career. However, after much reflection, I decided to pursue other challenges within the game.Some of my notable achievements as a player include:
- Reaching Challenger on multiple positions.
- Participating and winning in numerous SR and 1v1 tournaments.
- Playing for various teams(Amateur and Semi-Professional).
Coaching
With over 7.000 hours of coaching experience, I fall into the category of one of the most experienced individuals in the field. My experience, passion, and ability to identify your flaws and tailor each session to your needs make me stand out as a Coach.I've studied the techniques of renowned coaches, such as LS, MagiFelix, and others, and I've developed my unique coaching approach. So far, my approach has helped countless individuals, and over 20 teams advance their competitive play, across 5 different continents, including members of various College and University eSport Teams.
Some of my notable achievements include:
- Assisting a Diamond 2 player reach Challenger in just five weeks.
- Helping a Silver 2 player climb to Platinum in three weeks.
- Guiding a Diamond 3 player to Grandmaster in six weeks.
Subscription Based Coaching
- One Individual Session (Monthly)
- Group Sessions (Weekly) x2
- Priority Coaching - Price:
99.99> 49.99$.
Verifications & Certifications
- Certified IFOEC (International Federation of eSport Coaches) Educator & Coach.
- Certified EHPI (eSports Health & Performance) Professional.
- University of Irvine eSport Specialization
- Verified Coachify & Metafy Partner.
Community
In addition to my experience as a Player, I am also the Founder of Noxus Coaching - a rapidly growing, educational community on Discord. Our community is a great place to find new friends to play with, have a good time, and most importantly, improve your skills.We hold various events on a weekly basis, including 1v1 & 5v5 tournaments, meme contests, and more. There are plenty of rewards to be won, including free coaching sessions with me. To join our community, visit https://discord.gg/RHW9BMxRd5 and message me upon joining to receive your role.
Podcast
- Podcast Appearance > https://youtu.be/4jn4FXOaOlE?si=98POLUJdJeSNnbiW
How Does it Work?
We will schedule an initial Interview during which we can discuss your goals and I can provide a more detailed explanation of my coaching services. This interview will typically last for 3-5 minutes.The First Session is designed to assess your current level of gameplay and identify areas for improvement. After conducting an analysis, I will create a Personalized Coaching Plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan will outline a series of sessions designed to maximize your improvement.
The Coaching Plan may include various session types, such as:
- Theory sessions: These sessions will cover key concepts such as wave management, vision, decision making, and more.
- Practical sessions: These sessions will either be VOD reviews or live games, and will be used to put theoretical knowledge into practice and analyze gameplay.
- Reviews: These sessions will occur periodically and will be used as checkpoints to track your progress and identify any additional areas for improvement.
Personalized Support (Available 24/7)
In addition to the structured coaching sessions, I offer personalized support to my clients on a 24/7 basis. Whether you have a specific question or just want to debrief after a tough game, I am always available to help. Simply message me and I will respond as quickly as possible.AvailabilityPricesPayments
I am able to cover any server and any timezone! Rates for both Private and Team coaching are negotiable. We will easily get the sessions to fit your budget and your needs.Payments are usually done through PayPal, however other forms of Payment such as Direct Transfer can be discussed.
Contact
Main form of contact is Discord on which you can find me at shelbion (Or Shelbion#8832)Feel free to message me either on Discord or through a Direct Message on Reddit and I will come back to you as quickly as possible.
2024.05.15 01:40 katelovesmeiu Professional Challenger Coach Verified Metafy & Coachify Partner Eight Years of Coaching Experience Over 7.000 Sessions Held Over 4.000 Students US Collegiate Coach Guaranteed Improvement & Personalized Plans Available Coaching Subscriptions & Individual Sessions Discord > shelbion👑
Book Your Free Consultation Today! > Discord @ shelbion
Some of my notable achievements as a player include:
I've studied the techniques of renowned coaches, such as LS, MagiFelix, and others, and I've developed my unique coaching approach. So far, my approach has helped countless individuals, and over 20 teams advance their competitive play, across 5 different continents, including members of various College and University eSport Teams.
Some of my notable achievements include:
We hold various events on a weekly basis, including 1v1 & 5v5 tournaments, meme contests, and more. There are plenty of rewards to be won, including free coaching sessions with me. To join our community, visit https://discord.gg/RHW9BMxRd5 and message me upon joining to receive your role.
The First Session is designed to assess your current level of gameplay and identify areas for improvement. After conducting an analysis, I will create a Personalized Coaching Plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan will outline a series of sessions designed to maximize your improvement.
The Coaching Plan may include various session types, such as:
Payments are usually done through PayPal, however other forms of Payment such as Direct Transfer can be discussed.
Feel free to message me either on Discord or through a Direct Message on Reddit and I will come back to you as quickly as possible.
submitted by katelovesmeiu to LeagueCoachingGrounds [link] [comments]
About Me
My name is Shelbion and I've been an avid League of Legends player for over a decade. In Season 4, I reached Challenger for the first time and even considered pursuing a professional career. However, after much reflection, I decided to pursue other challenges within the game.Some of my notable achievements as a player include:
- Reaching Challenger on multiple positions.
- Participating and winning in numerous SR and 1v1 tournaments.
- Playing for various teams(Amateur and Semi-Professional).
Coaching
With over 7.000 hours of coaching experience, I fall into the category of one of the most experienced individuals in the field. My experience, passion, and ability to identify your flaws and tailor each session to your needs make me stand out as a Coach.I've studied the techniques of renowned coaches, such as LS, MagiFelix, and others, and I've developed my unique coaching approach. So far, my approach has helped countless individuals, and over 20 teams advance their competitive play, across 5 different continents, including members of various College and University eSport Teams.
Some of my notable achievements include:
- Assisting a Diamond 2 player reach Challenger in just five weeks.
- Helping a Silver 2 player climb to Platinum in three weeks.
- Guiding a Diamond 3 player to Grandmaster in six weeks.
Subscription Based Coaching
- One Individual Session (Monthly)
- Group Sessions (Weekly) x2
- Priority Coaching - Price:
99.99> 49.99$.
Verifications & Certifications
- Certified IFOEC (International Federation of eSport Coaches) Educator & Coach.
- Certified EHPI (eSports Health & Performance) Professional.
- University of Irvine eSport Specialization
- Verified Coachify & Metafy Partner.
Community
In addition to my experience as a Player, I am also the Founder of Noxus Coaching - a rapidly growing, educational community on Discord. Our community is a great place to find new friends to play with, have a good time, and most importantly, improve your skills.We hold various events on a weekly basis, including 1v1 & 5v5 tournaments, meme contests, and more. There are plenty of rewards to be won, including free coaching sessions with me. To join our community, visit https://discord.gg/RHW9BMxRd5 and message me upon joining to receive your role.
Podcast
- Podcast Appearance > https://youtu.be/4jn4FXOaOlE?si=98POLUJdJeSNnbiW
How Does it Work?
We will schedule an initial Interview during which we can discuss your goals and I can provide a more detailed explanation of my coaching services. This interview will typically last for 3-5 minutes.The First Session is designed to assess your current level of gameplay and identify areas for improvement. After conducting an analysis, I will create a Personalized Coaching Plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan will outline a series of sessions designed to maximize your improvement.
The Coaching Plan may include various session types, such as:
- Theory sessions: These sessions will cover key concepts such as wave management, vision, decision making, and more.
- Practical sessions: These sessions will either be VOD reviews or live games, and will be used to put theoretical knowledge into practice and analyze gameplay.
- Reviews: These sessions will occur periodically and will be used as checkpoints to track your progress and identify any additional areas for improvement.
Personalized Support (Available 24/7)
In addition to the structured coaching sessions, I offer personalized support to my clients on a 24/7 basis. Whether you have a specific question or just want to debrief after a tough game, I am always available to help. Simply message me and I will respond as quickly as possible.AvailabilityPricesPayments
I am able to cover any server and any timezone! Rates for both Private and Team coaching are negotiable. We will easily get the sessions to fit your budget and your needs.Payments are usually done through PayPal, however other forms of Payment such as Direct Transfer can be discussed.
Contact
Main form of contact is Discord on which you can find me at shelbion (Or Shelbion#8832)Feel free to message me either on Discord or through a Direct Message on Reddit and I will come back to you as quickly as possible.
2024.05.15 01:40 KittenKat128 Freshman -- Graduating EECS in 1.5 years?
Hello everyone!
I'm a incoming freshman for Fall 2024 at UC Berkeley, and I've made my schedule plan for my time at Berkeley. I've earned a lot of college credit while in HS, namely I have credit for Math 1A / 1B (AP Exam credit), CS 61A, 61B, 61C, Math 53 and Math 54, Data 8 (the professor said so -- unfortunately articulation is not yet updated on Assist), Physics I, II, and III, and all lower division breadth courses (English 1A / 1B + the two lower division breadths). I also thought I had credit for EECS 16A but unfortunately I would need to take another bridge course for me to get the credit, which would not really make any sense rather than just taking the original course. I've also fulfilled all the American Cultures / History / Institutions Requirements, and I should satisfy the Senior Residence requirement with this plan too.
Here's my tentative schedule:
Summer 2024: EECS 16A, [Ethics Course]
Fall 2024: EECS 16B, CS70, [Upper Division Breadth]
Spring 2025: INFO 159, DATA 100, CS 161 (these are, from what I can discern, the easiest upper division courses for EECS)
Summer 2025: Internship
Fall 2025: CS 168 (Networking / Internet), CS 169, [Upper Division Breadth that also satisfies upper division technical elective requirement].
I picked the 5 easiest upper division courses to minimize stress. My goal would be to get an internship Summer 2025, then a return offer starting in January 2026. I have one prior internship, and I'm working on learning Node JS, React, that kind of stuff, to put projects on my resume, and I'm trying to be consistent on Leetcode. Ideally, if I get an internship in Fall 2024 for Summer 2025, I'll move out from my parents to maybe somewhere cheap like Antioch or Concord and take the train to campus, since unlike for 16B with in-person labs, most likely I'll just have to come for the midterm and final, and perhaps the discussion twice a week. The best case scenario would be getting a remote internship + return offer, which would allow me to escape the rush of the Bay Area and move to somewhere more quaint and rural. Some good remote companies I think are still Atlassian, Dropbox, Affirm, and Coinbase, which were remote before 2020 and are very unlikely to put in RTO mandates.
My motivation for wanting to graduate from college in 1.5 years comes from a desire for financial independence and being able to live alone without roommates, since I'm very introverted. I could never imagine living with roommates -- it sounds very mentally taxing. Additionally, one of my biggest regrets has always been not graduating from HS early. One of my teachers even suggested it to me, but I thought I didn't have enough extracurriculars and wouldn't have gotten into MIT / Stanford / Berkeley EECS. Now I realize that prestige in university is essentially meaningless, especially in Computer Science, and giving up a year of my life for simply a chance at an "elite" university was very stupid of me. Since I can't rectify the past, the only solution to achieving financial independence earlier seems to be completing college faster. I'm not at all worried about missing anything social in college, since I'm not a very social person, and wouldn't have taken part it in them anyways, and I'll make plenty of friends (hopefully) at my job or, in the case of a remote job, in the new small town I move in.
Sorry for the long post! But what does everyone think about this plan? My thoughts were that I can get an A in EECS 16A over the summer so I have a 4.0 GPA on my resume when I apply for internships in Fall 2024 -- most companies only ask for your transcript after you've been accepted, and I technically didn't lie about anything. Would it be wrong to do this? On my resume, I only put my graduation date (such as Expected December 2025). I also asked a similar question last year under a different screenname -- so I'm sorry if this reads familar! At that time I didn't know what courses I wanted to take since I wasn't yet admitted to Berkeley.
submitted by KittenKat128 to berkeley [link] [comments]
I'm a incoming freshman for Fall 2024 at UC Berkeley, and I've made my schedule plan for my time at Berkeley. I've earned a lot of college credit while in HS, namely I have credit for Math 1A / 1B (AP Exam credit), CS 61A, 61B, 61C, Math 53 and Math 54, Data 8 (the professor said so -- unfortunately articulation is not yet updated on Assist), Physics I, II, and III, and all lower division breadth courses (English 1A / 1B + the two lower division breadths). I also thought I had credit for EECS 16A but unfortunately I would need to take another bridge course for me to get the credit, which would not really make any sense rather than just taking the original course. I've also fulfilled all the American Cultures / History / Institutions Requirements, and I should satisfy the Senior Residence requirement with this plan too.
Here's my tentative schedule:
Summer 2024: EECS 16A, [Ethics Course]
Fall 2024: EECS 16B, CS70, [Upper Division Breadth]
Spring 2025: INFO 159, DATA 100, CS 161 (these are, from what I can discern, the easiest upper division courses for EECS)
Summer 2025: Internship
Fall 2025: CS 168 (Networking / Internet), CS 169, [Upper Division Breadth that also satisfies upper division technical elective requirement].
I picked the 5 easiest upper division courses to minimize stress. My goal would be to get an internship Summer 2025, then a return offer starting in January 2026. I have one prior internship, and I'm working on learning Node JS, React, that kind of stuff, to put projects on my resume, and I'm trying to be consistent on Leetcode. Ideally, if I get an internship in Fall 2024 for Summer 2025, I'll move out from my parents to maybe somewhere cheap like Antioch or Concord and take the train to campus, since unlike for 16B with in-person labs, most likely I'll just have to come for the midterm and final, and perhaps the discussion twice a week. The best case scenario would be getting a remote internship + return offer, which would allow me to escape the rush of the Bay Area and move to somewhere more quaint and rural. Some good remote companies I think are still Atlassian, Dropbox, Affirm, and Coinbase, which were remote before 2020 and are very unlikely to put in RTO mandates.
My motivation for wanting to graduate from college in 1.5 years comes from a desire for financial independence and being able to live alone without roommates, since I'm very introverted. I could never imagine living with roommates -- it sounds very mentally taxing. Additionally, one of my biggest regrets has always been not graduating from HS early. One of my teachers even suggested it to me, but I thought I didn't have enough extracurriculars and wouldn't have gotten into MIT / Stanford / Berkeley EECS. Now I realize that prestige in university is essentially meaningless, especially in Computer Science, and giving up a year of my life for simply a chance at an "elite" university was very stupid of me. Since I can't rectify the past, the only solution to achieving financial independence earlier seems to be completing college faster. I'm not at all worried about missing anything social in college, since I'm not a very social person, and wouldn't have taken part it in them anyways, and I'll make plenty of friends (hopefully) at my job or, in the case of a remote job, in the new small town I move in.
Sorry for the long post! But what does everyone think about this plan? My thoughts were that I can get an A in EECS 16A over the summer so I have a 4.0 GPA on my resume when I apply for internships in Fall 2024 -- most companies only ask for your transcript after you've been accepted, and I technically didn't lie about anything. Would it be wrong to do this? On my resume, I only put my graduation date (such as Expected December 2025). I also asked a similar question last year under a different screenname -- so I'm sorry if this reads familar! At that time I didn't know what courses I wanted to take since I wasn't yet admitted to Berkeley.
2024.05.15 01:39 katelovesmeiu Professional Challenger Coach Verified Metafy & Coachify Partner Eight Years of Coaching Experience Over 7.000 Sessions Held Over 4.000 Students US Collegiate Coach Guaranteed Improvement & Personalized Plans Available Coaching Subscriptions & Individual Sessions Discord > shelbion👑
Book Your Free Consultation Today! > Discord @ shelbion
Some of my notable achievements as a player include:
I've studied the techniques of renowned coaches, such as LS, MagiFelix, and others, and I've developed my unique coaching approach. So far, my approach has helped countless individuals, and over 20 teams advance their competitive play, across 5 different continents, including members of various College and University eSport Teams.
Some of my notable achievements include:
We hold various events on a weekly basis, including 1v1 & 5v5 tournaments, meme contests, and more. There are plenty of rewards to be won, including free coaching sessions with me. To join our community, visit https://discord.gg/RHW9BMxRd5 and message me upon joining to receive your role.
The First Session is designed to assess your current level of gameplay and identify areas for improvement. After conducting an analysis, I will create a Personalized Coaching Plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan will outline a series of sessions designed to maximize your improvement.
The Coaching Plan may include various session types, such as:
Payments are usually done through PayPal, however other forms of Payment such as Direct Transfer can be discussed.
Feel free to message me either on Discord or through a Direct Message on Reddit and I will come back to you as quickly as possible.
submitted by katelovesmeiu to LeagueCoaching [link] [comments]
About Me
My name is Shelbion and I've been an avid League of Legends player for over a decade. In Season 4, I reached Challenger for the first time and even considered pursuing a professional career. However, after much reflection, I decided to pursue other challenges within the game.Some of my notable achievements as a player include:
- Reaching Challenger on multiple positions.
- Participating and winning in numerous SR and 1v1 tournaments.
- Playing for various teams(Amateur and Semi-Professional).
Coaching
With over 7.000 hours of coaching experience, I fall into the category of one of the most experienced individuals in the field. My experience, passion, and ability to identify your flaws and tailor each session to your needs make me stand out as a Coach.I've studied the techniques of renowned coaches, such as LS, MagiFelix, and others, and I've developed my unique coaching approach. So far, my approach has helped countless individuals, and over 20 teams advance their competitive play, across 5 different continents, including members of various College and University eSport Teams.
Some of my notable achievements include:
- Assisting a Diamond 2 player reach Challenger in just five weeks.
- Helping a Silver 2 player climb to Platinum in three weeks.
- Guiding a Diamond 3 player to Grandmaster in six weeks.
Subscription Based Coaching
- One Individual Session (Monthly)
- Group Sessions (Weekly) x2
- Priority Coaching - Price:
99.99> 49.99$.
Verifications & Certifications
- Certified IFOEC (International Federation of eSport Coaches) Educator & Coach.
- Certified EHPI (eSports Health & Performance) Professional.
- University of Irvine eSport Specialization
- Verified Coachify & Metafy Partner.
Community
In addition to my experience as a Player, I am also the Founder of Noxus Coaching - a rapidly growing, educational community on Discord. Our community is a great place to find new friends to play with, have a good time, and most importantly, improve your skills.We hold various events on a weekly basis, including 1v1 & 5v5 tournaments, meme contests, and more. There are plenty of rewards to be won, including free coaching sessions with me. To join our community, visit https://discord.gg/RHW9BMxRd5 and message me upon joining to receive your role.
Podcast
- Podcast Appearance > https://youtu.be/4jn4FXOaOlE?si=98POLUJdJeSNnbiW
How Does it Work?
We will schedule an initial Interview during which we can discuss your goals and I can provide a more detailed explanation of my coaching services. This interview will typically last for 3-5 minutes.The First Session is designed to assess your current level of gameplay and identify areas for improvement. After conducting an analysis, I will create a Personalized Coaching Plan tailored to your specific needs. This plan will outline a series of sessions designed to maximize your improvement.
The Coaching Plan may include various session types, such as:
- Theory sessions: These sessions will cover key concepts such as wave management, vision, decision making, and more.
- Practical sessions: These sessions will either be VOD reviews or live games, and will be used to put theoretical knowledge into practice and analyze gameplay.
- Reviews: These sessions will occur periodically and will be used as checkpoints to track your progress and identify any additional areas for improvement.
Personalized Support (Available 24/7)
In addition to the structured coaching sessions, I offer personalized support to my clients on a 24/7 basis. Whether you have a specific question or just want to debrief after a tough game, I am always available to help. Simply message me and I will respond as quickly as possible.AvailabilityPricesPayments
I am able to cover any server and any timezone! Rates for both Private and Team coaching are negotiable. We will easily get the sessions to fit your budget and your needs.Payments are usually done through PayPal, however other forms of Payment such as Direct Transfer can be discussed.
Contact
Main form of contact is Discord on which you can find me at shelbion (Or Shelbion#8832)Feel free to message me either on Discord or through a Direct Message on Reddit and I will come back to you as quickly as possible.
2024.05.15 01:31 Magicide I wonder how the market is these days?
My current position is coming to the end in the next 6 months or so, so I've started applying for jobs I'm interested in. I'm shocked at how shitty the market is for an experienced Operator, it gives me a new perspective on how awful it must be for people with no experience.
I have 5/6 2nd Class exams done and almost 5 years of experience in large industrial facilities. I applied for 3 recent jobs with DOW, Imperial Oil and Nutrien and had the opportunity to upload a concise resume and cover letter that has done me well in the past. All three were jobs looking for a 2nd but accepting an experienced 3rd and I was rejected outright despite ticking every box they are looking for.
Maybe it's something else but based on that, good luck to anyone coming with their 4th or 3rd and no experience. Feels bad man...
submitted by Magicide to powerengineering [link] [comments]
I have 5/6 2nd Class exams done and almost 5 years of experience in large industrial facilities. I applied for 3 recent jobs with DOW, Imperial Oil and Nutrien and had the opportunity to upload a concise resume and cover letter that has done me well in the past. All three were jobs looking for a 2nd but accepting an experienced 3rd and I was rejected outright despite ticking every box they are looking for.
Maybe it's something else but based on that, good luck to anyone coming with their 4th or 3rd and no experience. Feels bad man...
2024.05.15 01:30 ItchyballsKasuga Grad school is killing me and sometimes I just want to let it
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
submitted by ItchyballsKasuga to offmychest [link] [comments]
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
2024.05.15 01:29 Mrmander20 [Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms] 4 C6.2: A Symphony of Friendship and Frogs
At the world’s top college of magic and technology, every day brings a new discovery -and a new disaster. The advanced experiments of the college students tend to be both ambitious and apocalyptic, with the end of the world only prevented by a mysterious time loop, and a small handful of students who retain their memories.
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
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“Four years on and the headache still sucks,” Vell groaned to himself.
Though most of the loopers had managed to make it to midnight alive, they had nothing to show for it but headaches. They had not succeeded in digging Cane out of the rubble, or investigating his apparent ghost theory in any other way. That was a complication, but not a fatal one. They had some leads to work with, at least, and Vell knew where to get started on the ghost angle. Vell gladly made the call that would get them started.
“Goooooood morning Mr. Harlan,” Harley chimed. “What’s happening?”
“Frog invasions, among other problems,” Vell grumbled.
“Oh, that’s a time loop headache if I ever heard it,” Harley said. She’d run into that affliction more than a few times.
“Yeah, it’s not great,” Vell said. “Listen, do you still have Garrett’s number?”
“Ooh, ghost problems, eh?” Harley said. “I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks. I kind of got to get right to it, so I’ll have to give you the details later, alright? Love you, Harley.”
“Love you too, bud,” Harley said. “Say hi to Garret for me.”
Vell hung up the first call and braced himself for the second. He liked Garret, but he could also be a lot to deal with -a fact well-demonstrated by the phone call beginning with Garret’s theme music blaring over the phone. Once the bombastic rock and roll stopped, Vell was disappointed to hear a mechanical beep indicate the start of an answering machine message.
“Hi, you’ve reached Garret Geist, Ghost Getter,” the message said, in Garrett’s usual southern california drawl. “I’m currently on a long-term submersible mission to exorcise the ghosts of shipwreck victims who’ve been trapped undersea for centuries.”
“What?”
Vell knew it was a recording, but needed to voice his offense anyway. It was hard to truly be mad knowing Garrett was doing something so incredibly heroic, though.
“I should be back to the surface and ready to help in a few days, so please leave a message and I’ll get to you as soon as I can!”
The automated message clicked again and fell silent. Vell hung up the phone and let out a low groan of despair.
“Okay, we’re not screwed yet,” Vell said. “Just need to wait a bit.”
Vell brushed his teeth and rushed through breakfast, and then, right on cue, heard a knock on his door. He whipped it open to find a bothersome scientist once again at his door.
“Hi, good morning,” Vell said, as he opened the door. “You here to bother me about Quenay?”
“I- uh, I have some very interesting theories.”
“I’m sure you do,” Vell said. “If you can just hold on one second…”
Vell paused and waited. The bothersome student also waited, at least for a few seconds.
“What exactly are we waiting for?”
“This.”
Cane grabbed the student by the collar and yanked them away from the door. Vell invited him in and slammed the door shut behind them to really drive the point home.
“Thank you for that,” Vell said. “Did you need something?”
“Just to talk to you,” Cane said. “I was trying to get people together to hang out tonight. Figured you’d want in, if you’re not too busy.”
“I could probably make it, I just have to…”
Vell froze. He really should’ve come up with these lies in advance.
“You good, Vell?”
“I, uh, sorry, just losing track of things, mentally,” Vell said. “I’ve had a lot of people, uh, ask me for help with things.”
“What kind of things?” Cane said. “You need a hand?”
“Maybe.”
Vell contemplated how to proceed for a moment, and then figured he’d probably built up enough good will with Cane over the past four years he could just dive right in.
“You ever heard about frog ghosts?”
“Yeah,” Cane said, without so much as blinking.
“Oh, cool,” Vell said. “What about them?”
“Well, hold on, are you talking about frog ghosts as in the ghost of frogs, or a ghost related to frogs?”
“Either or, I guess?”
“Okay, because I don’t know anything about any ghostly frogs,” Cane said. “There is supposedly the ghost of a guy obsessed with frogs on campus, though.”
“Interesting. Tell me about the frog guy.”
“I don’t know all the details, it was kind of an urban legend even when my brother came here about a decade back,” Cane said. “All he ever told me was the this frog-obsessed sophomore died while studying, and he haunts the basement of the sophomore dorms, I guess. ‘Some say you can still hear faint croaking in the basement’ and all that horror story shit.”
“Interesting,” Vell said, again. “Let me look into that and we’ll circle back later, alright? I gotta go, see you.”
“Vell-”
“Sorry, kind of in a hurry, bud,” Vell said, as he left and shut the door behind.
“This is your dorm, dude,” Cane said.
***
“You were not exaggerating about this headache,” Alex said.
“We warned you,” Kim said. “Man, it’s almost better to die.”
“How do you have a headache, you’re made of metal!”
“It’s complicated,” Kim said. Her synthetic body did not spare her from the time loop headache, no matter how she rebuilt herself.
“Good morning everyone,” Helena said, as she whacked the door open with a crutch. “What did I miss?”
“Quiet down a little, please” Hawke said.
“Why?”
“Do you not have a headache too?”
“No, I died pretty early,” Helena said. “Got a frog on me.”
“You died from a frog touching you? What condition do you have that causes that?”
“Well it was a poison dart frog, so I guess ‘being alive’,” Helena said. Samson pursed his lips and said nothing. “What did you all get up to while I was busy being dead?”
“Vell found out the frogs were summoned by a weird frog-obsessed ghost,” Hawke said. “He apparently knows a guy who might be able to help.”
The loopers then proceeded to relax and chat about frogs, ghosts, and other miscellaneous topics for about seven minutes, which made it a lot less dramatic when Vell barged in and announced Garret would be unable to help.
“Oh come on,” Kim snapped. “What’s the point of knowing a ghost hunter if he never helps hunt ghosts?”
“He’s on some undersea mission to rescue lost souls,” Vell said. “Which makes it really hard to be mad at him.”
“And yet I manage,” Kim said. She didn’t begrudge Garret personally, but she had been hoping for their first easy win of the year. All the apocalypses thus far had been a major pain in the ass.
“Aren’t you people supposed to be able to handle things like this?”
“Yes, Alex, and we will,” Vell said. “Just would’ve been nice to have a professional on the job.”
“I’ll get the ghostbusting stuff ready,” Hawke sighed. He would’ve loved a chance to outsource their daily nonsense.
“Keep it on standby for now,” Vell said. “Ghosts have unfinished business or regrets. If we can help our ghost deal with whatever frog-related business he’s got going on, maybe we can fix this without having to bust anyone.”
“That’s your plan?” Alex said. “Be nice to the ghost that crushed a building and hope it goes away?”
“Yes,” Vell said, with a completely straight face. “And busting is plan B.”
“Bustin’ makes me feel good,” Hawke sang, as he grabbed all their various ghostbusting gear.
“True professionals at work,” Alex scoffed. Everyone else rolled their eyes and got back to work.
“Vell is an old pro at being nice to people,” Kim said. “Just ask Helena’s sister.”
“Don’t pat yourself on the back, Joan’s incredibly susceptible to manipulation,” Helena said. It was disturbing she’d say that, and even more disturbing she knew that. “That said, anyone dumb enough to get stuck as a ghost for decades will probably buy into your routine just as easily.”
“Thanks for your input,” Vell said. “I’m just going to go ahead and get started.”
He said that both because it was important and because it was an excuse to get away from Alex and Helena faster.
“Need any backup?” Samson asked, for similar reasons.
“I’ll check it out solo first,” Vell said. Historically speaking, he was the best people-pleaser, a dubious honor at best, but one that came in handy when dealing with a frog-summoning ghost. “I’ll let you know if I need backup.”
“Or busting,” Hawke said.
“Or busting,” Vell agreed. “I have to find out where the ghost is, for starters. I’ll be in touch soon.”
***
Finding the lair of the ghost was the first hurdle. As it turned out, the sophomore dorms had a lot of basements. Every building on campus had a lot of basements, so Vell was not all that surprised. At least these basements didn’t have booby traps or old experiment equipment in them. They mostly just had a lot of junk. Vell kicked aside some old food wrappers and scanned the room.
“Why do people treat these empty rooms like dumping grounds?”
“People are usually different when they think no one is watching.”
Vell whipped around and saw a transparent head poking through one of the nearby walls. A ghost if Vell had ever seen one.
“Oh, hi,” Vell said. “Uh, weird question, how do you feel about frogs?”
“I’m ambivalent at best,” the ghost said. “Are you looking for the frog guy? Because he haunts two rooms over.”
The ghost pointed to the right, down the hall, and Vell looked that way.
“Thanks,” Vell said. He took a few steps towards the door before spinning around to face the other ghost again. “Uh, do you need any help like, moving on? Finishing unfinished business?”
“Nah, we get wifi down here, so I don’t mind just chilling,” the ghost said. “Thanks for offering though.”
The ghost drew back into the wall and vanished from sight. While Vell was painfully curious as to how a ghost accessed wifi, he decided it was time to move on. The frog ghost was apparently close by, after all.
Vell followed the wifi ghost’s directions and hopped two doors down, barging into a subterranean room that was uncomfortably moist and smelled of mud and rainwater. Condensation dripped from the ceiling and onto Vell’s back, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. Unlike other rooms, this one was completely free of any garbage, but Vell took no comfort in that.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
A chill ran down Vell’s spine that definitely was not another drop of water. He waited two seconds, took a deep breath, and turned around.
“Hello.”
Vell was just inches away from another transparent face. This one had a slight green tint, with wide set eyes and a broad, flat mouth. Vell wondered if the similarities to a frog had been there during this person’s life, or if they just liked frogs so much their ghost had slowly shifted to reflect their passion.
“Hey! Hi, uh, nice to meet you,” Vell mumbled. “I’m Vell.”
“I’m Raine.”
“Neat, nice name,” Vell said. If Raine noticed the awkward hesitation in the compliment, he didn’t show it. “So, uh, I was wondering, well, I heard you were the guy to ask about frogs.”
The already wide eyes of the ghost got even wider, and visible excitement trembled through their spectral form. Vell began to think he may have made a mistake.
***
“So even though it’s the biggest frog in the America’s, the helmeted water toad is still only half the size of the Goliath frog,” Raine said. “Which must be wild for the helmeted water toad. Could you imagine crossing an ocean and finding out the people who live there are literally twice your size?”
“Must be pretty mindblowing, yeah,” Vell said.
“And that’s not even going into the real extremes,” Raine said. “Do you remember our pal P. Amauensis?”
“How could I forget,” Vell said, about something he had definitely forgotten.
“Not just the world’s smallest frog, but maybe the world’s smallest vertebrate,” Raine said. “Only seven point seven millimeters long, a literal fraction of the Goliath frog! Could you imagine meeting someone who’s only as big as your toe?”
“I actually did, once,” Vell said. “Shrink ray.”
“Oh. Was...was it weird?”
“A little,” Vell said.
“Wow. You almost know what it’s like to be a Goliath frog meeting a P. Amauensis,” Raine said. “I’m so jealous.”
“Yeah, I’ve done a lot of interesting stuff,” Vell said. “What about you, what’d you get up to when you weren’t studying frogs?”
Raine tilted his spectral head and stared blankly at Vell.
“You did do things other than study frogs, right?”
“Not if I could help it,” Raine said.
“Okay, uh...what did you like to eat?”
“Oh, I just ate food whenever I was hungry,” Raine said. “What I really liked to do was gather samples of different bugs and other frog dietary staples, so I could try to get a sense of their diet for myself.”
“Like, cooked bugs, or just raw, living bugs,” Vell said. He’d eaten a few different varieties of cooked bugs, just for the experience, but couldn’t imagine eating raw insects.
“If I could find them, yeah, live ones,” Raine said. “It got pretty hard after I got banned from the entomology department.”
“That’d do it,” Vell said. “So, did you, uh, go swimming a lot?”
“Oh yeah, all the time,” Raine said. “Until I got banned from the pools too. Trying to swim like a frog doesn’t work very well, and they got sick of having to rescue me, I guess.”
“You could’ve just swam like a person.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To...I don’t know,” Vell said. He was starting to feel like Raine’s entire life and unlife revolved around frogs. “Did you ever do anything, I don’t know, human?”
“Oh, I studied frogs,” Raine said. “Frogs lack the self-awareness to understand frogs. It’s their only flaw, really.”
“I see. So what’s your favorite frog?”
As expected, this set off a long rant, as Raine found it hard to pick a favorite and had to start listing pros and cons of various frog species. It was not exactly scintillating conversation, but it kept Raine talking instead of somehow summoning frogs. Vell kept reminding himself that was the real goal. He was not here to have a pleasant chat, he was here to prevent the frogpocalypse. Anything that kept Raine ranting was good. He was saving the world.
As Raine started ranking every existing frog species by maximum jump distance, Vell kept repeating that to himself. Saving the world, one frog jump strength at a time.
submitted by Mrmander20 to redditserials [link] [comments]
Surviving the loops was hard enough, but now, in his senior year, Vell Harlan must take charge of them, and deal with the fact that the whole world now knows his secrets. Everyone knows about Vell’s death and resurrection, along with the divine game he is a part of. Now Vell must contend with overly curious scientists and evil billionaires hungry for divine power while the daily doomsday cycle bombards him with terrorists, talking elephants, and the Grim Reaper himself -but if he can endure it all, the Last Goddess’s game promises the ultimate prize: power over life itself.
[Previous Chapter][Patreon][Cover Art]
“Four years on and the headache still sucks,” Vell groaned to himself.
Though most of the loopers had managed to make it to midnight alive, they had nothing to show for it but headaches. They had not succeeded in digging Cane out of the rubble, or investigating his apparent ghost theory in any other way. That was a complication, but not a fatal one. They had some leads to work with, at least, and Vell knew where to get started on the ghost angle. Vell gladly made the call that would get them started.
“Goooooood morning Mr. Harlan,” Harley chimed. “What’s happening?”
“Frog invasions, among other problems,” Vell grumbled.
“Oh, that’s a time loop headache if I ever heard it,” Harley said. She’d run into that affliction more than a few times.
“Yeah, it’s not great,” Vell said. “Listen, do you still have Garrett’s number?”
“Ooh, ghost problems, eh?” Harley said. “I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks. I kind of got to get right to it, so I’ll have to give you the details later, alright? Love you, Harley.”
“Love you too, bud,” Harley said. “Say hi to Garret for me.”
Vell hung up the first call and braced himself for the second. He liked Garret, but he could also be a lot to deal with -a fact well-demonstrated by the phone call beginning with Garret’s theme music blaring over the phone. Once the bombastic rock and roll stopped, Vell was disappointed to hear a mechanical beep indicate the start of an answering machine message.
“Hi, you’ve reached Garret Geist, Ghost Getter,” the message said, in Garrett’s usual southern california drawl. “I’m currently on a long-term submersible mission to exorcise the ghosts of shipwreck victims who’ve been trapped undersea for centuries.”
“What?”
Vell knew it was a recording, but needed to voice his offense anyway. It was hard to truly be mad knowing Garrett was doing something so incredibly heroic, though.
“I should be back to the surface and ready to help in a few days, so please leave a message and I’ll get to you as soon as I can!”
The automated message clicked again and fell silent. Vell hung up the phone and let out a low groan of despair.
“Okay, we’re not screwed yet,” Vell said. “Just need to wait a bit.”
Vell brushed his teeth and rushed through breakfast, and then, right on cue, heard a knock on his door. He whipped it open to find a bothersome scientist once again at his door.
“Hi, good morning,” Vell said, as he opened the door. “You here to bother me about Quenay?”
“I- uh, I have some very interesting theories.”
“I’m sure you do,” Vell said. “If you can just hold on one second…”
Vell paused and waited. The bothersome student also waited, at least for a few seconds.
“What exactly are we waiting for?”
“This.”
Cane grabbed the student by the collar and yanked them away from the door. Vell invited him in and slammed the door shut behind them to really drive the point home.
“Thank you for that,” Vell said. “Did you need something?”
“Just to talk to you,” Cane said. “I was trying to get people together to hang out tonight. Figured you’d want in, if you’re not too busy.”
“I could probably make it, I just have to…”
Vell froze. He really should’ve come up with these lies in advance.
“You good, Vell?”
“I, uh, sorry, just losing track of things, mentally,” Vell said. “I’ve had a lot of people, uh, ask me for help with things.”
“What kind of things?” Cane said. “You need a hand?”
“Maybe.”
Vell contemplated how to proceed for a moment, and then figured he’d probably built up enough good will with Cane over the past four years he could just dive right in.
“You ever heard about frog ghosts?”
“Yeah,” Cane said, without so much as blinking.
“Oh, cool,” Vell said. “What about them?”
“Well, hold on, are you talking about frog ghosts as in the ghost of frogs, or a ghost related to frogs?”
“Either or, I guess?”
“Okay, because I don’t know anything about any ghostly frogs,” Cane said. “There is supposedly the ghost of a guy obsessed with frogs on campus, though.”
“Interesting. Tell me about the frog guy.”
“I don’t know all the details, it was kind of an urban legend even when my brother came here about a decade back,” Cane said. “All he ever told me was the this frog-obsessed sophomore died while studying, and he haunts the basement of the sophomore dorms, I guess. ‘Some say you can still hear faint croaking in the basement’ and all that horror story shit.”
“Interesting,” Vell said, again. “Let me look into that and we’ll circle back later, alright? I gotta go, see you.”
“Vell-”
“Sorry, kind of in a hurry, bud,” Vell said, as he left and shut the door behind.
“This is your dorm, dude,” Cane said.
***
“You were not exaggerating about this headache,” Alex said.
“We warned you,” Kim said. “Man, it’s almost better to die.”
“How do you have a headache, you’re made of metal!”
“It’s complicated,” Kim said. Her synthetic body did not spare her from the time loop headache, no matter how she rebuilt herself.
“Good morning everyone,” Helena said, as she whacked the door open with a crutch. “What did I miss?”
“Quiet down a little, please” Hawke said.
“Why?”
“Do you not have a headache too?”
“No, I died pretty early,” Helena said. “Got a frog on me.”
“You died from a frog touching you? What condition do you have that causes that?”
“Well it was a poison dart frog, so I guess ‘being alive’,” Helena said. Samson pursed his lips and said nothing. “What did you all get up to while I was busy being dead?”
“Vell found out the frogs were summoned by a weird frog-obsessed ghost,” Hawke said. “He apparently knows a guy who might be able to help.”
The loopers then proceeded to relax and chat about frogs, ghosts, and other miscellaneous topics for about seven minutes, which made it a lot less dramatic when Vell barged in and announced Garret would be unable to help.
“Oh come on,” Kim snapped. “What’s the point of knowing a ghost hunter if he never helps hunt ghosts?”
“He’s on some undersea mission to rescue lost souls,” Vell said. “Which makes it really hard to be mad at him.”
“And yet I manage,” Kim said. She didn’t begrudge Garret personally, but she had been hoping for their first easy win of the year. All the apocalypses thus far had been a major pain in the ass.
“Aren’t you people supposed to be able to handle things like this?”
“Yes, Alex, and we will,” Vell said. “Just would’ve been nice to have a professional on the job.”
“I’ll get the ghostbusting stuff ready,” Hawke sighed. He would’ve loved a chance to outsource their daily nonsense.
“Keep it on standby for now,” Vell said. “Ghosts have unfinished business or regrets. If we can help our ghost deal with whatever frog-related business he’s got going on, maybe we can fix this without having to bust anyone.”
“That’s your plan?” Alex said. “Be nice to the ghost that crushed a building and hope it goes away?”
“Yes,” Vell said, with a completely straight face. “And busting is plan B.”
“Bustin’ makes me feel good,” Hawke sang, as he grabbed all their various ghostbusting gear.
“True professionals at work,” Alex scoffed. Everyone else rolled their eyes and got back to work.
“Vell is an old pro at being nice to people,” Kim said. “Just ask Helena’s sister.”
“Don’t pat yourself on the back, Joan’s incredibly susceptible to manipulation,” Helena said. It was disturbing she’d say that, and even more disturbing she knew that. “That said, anyone dumb enough to get stuck as a ghost for decades will probably buy into your routine just as easily.”
“Thanks for your input,” Vell said. “I’m just going to go ahead and get started.”
He said that both because it was important and because it was an excuse to get away from Alex and Helena faster.
“Need any backup?” Samson asked, for similar reasons.
“I’ll check it out solo first,” Vell said. Historically speaking, he was the best people-pleaser, a dubious honor at best, but one that came in handy when dealing with a frog-summoning ghost. “I’ll let you know if I need backup.”
“Or busting,” Hawke said.
“Or busting,” Vell agreed. “I have to find out where the ghost is, for starters. I’ll be in touch soon.”
***
Finding the lair of the ghost was the first hurdle. As it turned out, the sophomore dorms had a lot of basements. Every building on campus had a lot of basements, so Vell was not all that surprised. At least these basements didn’t have booby traps or old experiment equipment in them. They mostly just had a lot of junk. Vell kicked aside some old food wrappers and scanned the room.
“Why do people treat these empty rooms like dumping grounds?”
“People are usually different when they think no one is watching.”
Vell whipped around and saw a transparent head poking through one of the nearby walls. A ghost if Vell had ever seen one.
“Oh, hi,” Vell said. “Uh, weird question, how do you feel about frogs?”
“I’m ambivalent at best,” the ghost said. “Are you looking for the frog guy? Because he haunts two rooms over.”
The ghost pointed to the right, down the hall, and Vell looked that way.
“Thanks,” Vell said. He took a few steps towards the door before spinning around to face the other ghost again. “Uh, do you need any help like, moving on? Finishing unfinished business?”
“Nah, we get wifi down here, so I don’t mind just chilling,” the ghost said. “Thanks for offering though.”
The ghost drew back into the wall and vanished from sight. While Vell was painfully curious as to how a ghost accessed wifi, he decided it was time to move on. The frog ghost was apparently close by, after all.
Vell followed the wifi ghost’s directions and hopped two doors down, barging into a subterranean room that was uncomfortably moist and smelled of mud and rainwater. Condensation dripped from the ceiling and onto Vell’s back, sending an unpleasant shiver down his spine. Unlike other rooms, this one was completely free of any garbage, but Vell took no comfort in that.
“Hello? Anybody home?”
A chill ran down Vell’s spine that definitely was not another drop of water. He waited two seconds, took a deep breath, and turned around.
“Hello.”
Vell was just inches away from another transparent face. This one had a slight green tint, with wide set eyes and a broad, flat mouth. Vell wondered if the similarities to a frog had been there during this person’s life, or if they just liked frogs so much their ghost had slowly shifted to reflect their passion.
“Hey! Hi, uh, nice to meet you,” Vell mumbled. “I’m Vell.”
“I’m Raine.”
“Neat, nice name,” Vell said. If Raine noticed the awkward hesitation in the compliment, he didn’t show it. “So, uh, I was wondering, well, I heard you were the guy to ask about frogs.”
The already wide eyes of the ghost got even wider, and visible excitement trembled through their spectral form. Vell began to think he may have made a mistake.
***
“So even though it’s the biggest frog in the America’s, the helmeted water toad is still only half the size of the Goliath frog,” Raine said. “Which must be wild for the helmeted water toad. Could you imagine crossing an ocean and finding out the people who live there are literally twice your size?”
“Must be pretty mindblowing, yeah,” Vell said.
“And that’s not even going into the real extremes,” Raine said. “Do you remember our pal P. Amauensis?”
“How could I forget,” Vell said, about something he had definitely forgotten.
“Not just the world’s smallest frog, but maybe the world’s smallest vertebrate,” Raine said. “Only seven point seven millimeters long, a literal fraction of the Goliath frog! Could you imagine meeting someone who’s only as big as your toe?”
“I actually did, once,” Vell said. “Shrink ray.”
“Oh. Was...was it weird?”
“A little,” Vell said.
“Wow. You almost know what it’s like to be a Goliath frog meeting a P. Amauensis,” Raine said. “I’m so jealous.”
“Yeah, I’ve done a lot of interesting stuff,” Vell said. “What about you, what’d you get up to when you weren’t studying frogs?”
Raine tilted his spectral head and stared blankly at Vell.
“You did do things other than study frogs, right?”
“Not if I could help it,” Raine said.
“Okay, uh...what did you like to eat?”
“Oh, I just ate food whenever I was hungry,” Raine said. “What I really liked to do was gather samples of different bugs and other frog dietary staples, so I could try to get a sense of their diet for myself.”
“Like, cooked bugs, or just raw, living bugs,” Vell said. He’d eaten a few different varieties of cooked bugs, just for the experience, but couldn’t imagine eating raw insects.
“If I could find them, yeah, live ones,” Raine said. “It got pretty hard after I got banned from the entomology department.”
“That’d do it,” Vell said. “So, did you, uh, go swimming a lot?”
“Oh yeah, all the time,” Raine said. “Until I got banned from the pools too. Trying to swim like a frog doesn’t work very well, and they got sick of having to rescue me, I guess.”
“You could’ve just swam like a person.”
“Why would I do that?”
“To...I don’t know,” Vell said. He was starting to feel like Raine’s entire life and unlife revolved around frogs. “Did you ever do anything, I don’t know, human?”
“Oh, I studied frogs,” Raine said. “Frogs lack the self-awareness to understand frogs. It’s their only flaw, really.”
“I see. So what’s your favorite frog?”
As expected, this set off a long rant, as Raine found it hard to pick a favorite and had to start listing pros and cons of various frog species. It was not exactly scintillating conversation, but it kept Raine talking instead of somehow summoning frogs. Vell kept reminding himself that was the real goal. He was not here to have a pleasant chat, he was here to prevent the frogpocalypse. Anything that kept Raine ranting was good. He was saving the world.
As Raine started ranking every existing frog species by maximum jump distance, Vell kept repeating that to himself. Saving the world, one frog jump strength at a time.
2024.05.15 01:27 BuyWonderful Does anyone else remember a childhood game called 'Murder in the dark'?
I think it was Jack's idea. Or maybe it was Mindy who came up with it. You know, if I do try and really think about it .. well, maybe it could've actually even been me who decided we play it. I've spent hours trying to pierce my memory back together, more to pass the time and distract myself.. But it's all irrelevant, It doesn't matter now. Maybe it never did.
Mabel was turning 30 and it was up to us to plan the party. We were all nostalgic about childhood memories so we decided to go all out - Frogs in the pond (jelly cups with Freddo frogs), hot dogs and fairy bread, and we wrapped up prizes in newspaper for pass the parcel. Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister were set up ready to play, the spice girls were blaring on Spotify.
Mabel's eyes lit up when she walked into the room and her smile was worth all the effort we put in. We danced and played games, and as the sun started to set and it grew darker outside, someone suggested turning off the lights snd playing murder in the dark.
There were ohh's and ahh's, laughter as people remembered a game they most likely hadn't played since primary school. A collective chatter amongst us in agreeance to playing Someone handed out cards, while were told the rules of the game. And then the lights were tuned out.
For those of you who don't recall, these are the basic premise of the games rules -
You'll need - Pack of cards
Instructions - Sort through a deck of cards and find the following - an Ace, a Jack, a King, a Queen, and number cards for the amount of remaining people. (i.e.-if six people were playing, you would need two number cards.)
Each card means something - the Ace is the murderer, the Jack is the detective, the King is the detective if the Jack dies, and the Queen is the detective if the Jack and the King both die. The number cards just walk around for the beginning of the game.
Tell the players that all they need to worry about for the time being is if they get the Ace. Give a card to everyone. Nobody looks at each other's cards. Once they have their cards and have seen them, put them down somewhere out of the way for the next round.
Turn off all the lights so that it's completely dark. Everyone begins to spread out and walk about slowly, and try not to laugh or talk. Players aren't allowed to stick together in this game. During this time, the murderer is seeking 'victims'. When she/he finds someone alone, they quietly brush their shoulder and whisper, "You're dead." As an alternative, the murderer could clamp their hand over the persons mouth to avoid the person screaming, and then whisper "You're Dead".
The dead player drops to the ground, dead, and can not speak or move. The murderer may or may not hide the person they just killed in a hiding place. It is not advisable, however, due to the risk involved in getting caught. When a player sees a person lying down, they ask, "Are you dead?" The person simply nods 'yes' or shakes their head 'no', but they must tell the truth. If they nod, the person who found them shouts "Murder in the Dark!" and the lights are put on.
The murderer may not murder victims any longer and all the alive players assemble where the dead person was found. The players who are not present are noted as dead. The detective sits in a chair in front of all the others who are on the floor. He/she asks questions to each person. (i.e. where were you when someone yelled Murder in the Dark? Who do you think is the murderer and why? etc.)
When the detective has enough information and think they are ready, they say "Final Accusation" and ask one person-"Are you the murderer?" It is very important that the person answers TRUTHFULLY at the final accusation. If they are the murderer, then they must say yes. If correct players pick new cards and the game starts again. If wrong then turn out the lights and carry on.
Our rules were a bit different though. It was added in that it would be a last man standing game instead. We wouldn't have a detective - we would have a murderer, murderees and possibly one lone survivor. If someone did survive -Whoever who was still alive when the egg timer went off in 60 minutes - would be the winner. If the murderer had successfully killed everyone and there were no 'survivors' - than they had won the game.
I'll admit, it was spooky. There's just something unnerving about being in a room full of people that you cannot see but you can feel their body heat or hear them breathing. I began to walk around softly, careful to make as less noise as possible. As I wasn't the killer - I had no 'good card' I was just a waiting victim, so I wanted to hide and try and bide my time staying alive as long as possible. It didn't take long to find the first 'body'. I could tell it was Mabel from the way the long blonde hair trailed along the carpet. I whispered "Are you dead?" And I guess she mustn't have heard me because I didn't see her nod.
I moved on quickly, going into the spare bedroom. I didn't risk shutting the door behind me, I just went to hide under the bed. There was a body already under there though, I felt the warmness of human skin as I clambered under the mattress, my hand recoiling in shock as I brushed up against someone's leg. I didn't bother to ask whether they were dead, I mean I guess it was cheating a bit, but we were alone, and they were certainly doing a good enough job of playing dead it seemed just silly to ask.
I heard the muffled scream down towards the other end of the house, - the first 'victim' I'd heard to make any noise - and knew it was safe to make my move out of the bedroom to a better spot.
I nearly tripped on the bodies that were splayed out on the floor, in the hallway and the kitchen. Whoever had the murderer card was certainly taking the game seriously and playing to the best of their ability. I had yet to come across anyone else walking around and was starting to think I might actually have a chance of winning, depending on how much longer was on the egg timer, of course.
I made a beeline to the kitchen to check how much time we had, it honestly felt like the game had gone on forever - and I was shocked to feel the broken pieces of the egg timer on the kitchen bench. I looked at the clock on the microwave - the green numbers burning into my eyes. We had been playing for over three hours.
Something didn't feel quite right.
I tiptoed back into the hall to Mabel, leaning down to whisper to her that we'd been playing way too long - but then I felt something wet and slippery on my hands when I knelt down next to her. It was blood. I stifled a scream as my hands roamed and I realised the birthday girl had had her head caved in.
I backed away slowly, tears streaming down my face as I quietly made my way to the front door. I let myself out and ran across the road, banging on the neighbours door while constantly glancing behind me to see if I was being chased.
The neighbours nearly fainted when they saw me covered in blood and screaming, but they calmed me down by showing me they had double locked their door and called the police.
They don't know who killed all my friends. Everyone who was meant to be at the party was still in the house - slaughtered.
It's taken so much therapy and I'm still not sleeping at night. I wish I could go back and help my friends. I didn't know, but the blame remains.
I got a letter in the mail today though. It was a congratulations card, and written inside said 'last one standing - winner winner - care to rematch, Afterall the last game was so fun! I'll see you soon, when darkness comes.'
So my advice, don't play childhood games. They could have dire consequences.
submitted by BuyWonderful to nosleep [link] [comments]
Mabel was turning 30 and it was up to us to plan the party. We were all nostalgic about childhood memories so we decided to go all out - Frogs in the pond (jelly cups with Freddo frogs), hot dogs and fairy bread, and we wrapped up prizes in newspaper for pass the parcel. Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister were set up ready to play, the spice girls were blaring on Spotify.
Mabel's eyes lit up when she walked into the room and her smile was worth all the effort we put in. We danced and played games, and as the sun started to set and it grew darker outside, someone suggested turning off the lights snd playing murder in the dark.
There were ohh's and ahh's, laughter as people remembered a game they most likely hadn't played since primary school. A collective chatter amongst us in agreeance to playing Someone handed out cards, while were told the rules of the game. And then the lights were tuned out.
For those of you who don't recall, these are the basic premise of the games rules -
You'll need - Pack of cards
Instructions - Sort through a deck of cards and find the following - an Ace, a Jack, a King, a Queen, and number cards for the amount of remaining people. (i.e.-if six people were playing, you would need two number cards.)
Each card means something - the Ace is the murderer, the Jack is the detective, the King is the detective if the Jack dies, and the Queen is the detective if the Jack and the King both die. The number cards just walk around for the beginning of the game.
Tell the players that all they need to worry about for the time being is if they get the Ace. Give a card to everyone. Nobody looks at each other's cards. Once they have their cards and have seen them, put them down somewhere out of the way for the next round.
Turn off all the lights so that it's completely dark. Everyone begins to spread out and walk about slowly, and try not to laugh or talk. Players aren't allowed to stick together in this game. During this time, the murderer is seeking 'victims'. When she/he finds someone alone, they quietly brush their shoulder and whisper, "You're dead." As an alternative, the murderer could clamp their hand over the persons mouth to avoid the person screaming, and then whisper "You're Dead".
The dead player drops to the ground, dead, and can not speak or move. The murderer may or may not hide the person they just killed in a hiding place. It is not advisable, however, due to the risk involved in getting caught. When a player sees a person lying down, they ask, "Are you dead?" The person simply nods 'yes' or shakes their head 'no', but they must tell the truth. If they nod, the person who found them shouts "Murder in the Dark!" and the lights are put on.
The murderer may not murder victims any longer and all the alive players assemble where the dead person was found. The players who are not present are noted as dead. The detective sits in a chair in front of all the others who are on the floor. He/she asks questions to each person. (i.e. where were you when someone yelled Murder in the Dark? Who do you think is the murderer and why? etc.)
When the detective has enough information and think they are ready, they say "Final Accusation" and ask one person-"Are you the murderer?" It is very important that the person answers TRUTHFULLY at the final accusation. If they are the murderer, then they must say yes. If correct players pick new cards and the game starts again. If wrong then turn out the lights and carry on.
Our rules were a bit different though. It was added in that it would be a last man standing game instead. We wouldn't have a detective - we would have a murderer, murderees and possibly one lone survivor. If someone did survive -Whoever who was still alive when the egg timer went off in 60 minutes - would be the winner. If the murderer had successfully killed everyone and there were no 'survivors' - than they had won the game.
I'll admit, it was spooky. There's just something unnerving about being in a room full of people that you cannot see but you can feel their body heat or hear them breathing. I began to walk around softly, careful to make as less noise as possible. As I wasn't the killer - I had no 'good card' I was just a waiting victim, so I wanted to hide and try and bide my time staying alive as long as possible. It didn't take long to find the first 'body'. I could tell it was Mabel from the way the long blonde hair trailed along the carpet. I whispered "Are you dead?" And I guess she mustn't have heard me because I didn't see her nod.
I moved on quickly, going into the spare bedroom. I didn't risk shutting the door behind me, I just went to hide under the bed. There was a body already under there though, I felt the warmness of human skin as I clambered under the mattress, my hand recoiling in shock as I brushed up against someone's leg. I didn't bother to ask whether they were dead, I mean I guess it was cheating a bit, but we were alone, and they were certainly doing a good enough job of playing dead it seemed just silly to ask.
I heard the muffled scream down towards the other end of the house, - the first 'victim' I'd heard to make any noise - and knew it was safe to make my move out of the bedroom to a better spot.
I nearly tripped on the bodies that were splayed out on the floor, in the hallway and the kitchen. Whoever had the murderer card was certainly taking the game seriously and playing to the best of their ability. I had yet to come across anyone else walking around and was starting to think I might actually have a chance of winning, depending on how much longer was on the egg timer, of course.
I made a beeline to the kitchen to check how much time we had, it honestly felt like the game had gone on forever - and I was shocked to feel the broken pieces of the egg timer on the kitchen bench. I looked at the clock on the microwave - the green numbers burning into my eyes. We had been playing for over three hours.
Something didn't feel quite right.
I tiptoed back into the hall to Mabel, leaning down to whisper to her that we'd been playing way too long - but then I felt something wet and slippery on my hands when I knelt down next to her. It was blood. I stifled a scream as my hands roamed and I realised the birthday girl had had her head caved in.
I backed away slowly, tears streaming down my face as I quietly made my way to the front door. I let myself out and ran across the road, banging on the neighbours door while constantly glancing behind me to see if I was being chased.
The neighbours nearly fainted when they saw me covered in blood and screaming, but they calmed me down by showing me they had double locked their door and called the police.
They don't know who killed all my friends. Everyone who was meant to be at the party was still in the house - slaughtered.
It's taken so much therapy and I'm still not sleeping at night. I wish I could go back and help my friends. I didn't know, but the blame remains.
I got a letter in the mail today though. It was a congratulations card, and written inside said 'last one standing - winner winner - care to rematch, Afterall the last game was so fun! I'll see you soon, when darkness comes.'
So my advice, don't play childhood games. They could have dire consequences.
2024.05.15 01:27 ButterscotchCivil417 Saw my first real psychologist and shocked at results. I no longer feel crazy?
TL;DR: Struggled with social interactions, obsessive tendencies, and learning difficulties throughout life. Diagnosed with multiple conditions including Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 2 and anxiety disorders. Unemployed since 2019, unable to find accommodating work due to conditions. Considering applying for disability benefits but unsure of eligibility. Feeling lost and overwhelmed.
My whole life I've had a hard time relating with people, connecting with people, making eye contact, enjoying the same things as others. I always tended to obsess on something for example if I took a part-time job I would burn myself out because I couldn't help but focus on work after work. To the point I'd break rules to login to resources and do research off the clock, resulting in me being fired.
When I was a child I would be more excited about the box the gift came in that I could hide in from everyone, instead of the gift itself. I didn't ever like parties with lots of kids, I would tend to hide until the party was over and call my mom until she came and picked me up. I couldn't handle kids tapping pencils in the class so my teacher would put me in the hallway, this to me was a treat not a punishment. I don't like making eye contact it feels really weird and I'm not good at it. When I practiced it someone said I creeped them out because I would just stare straight into their eyes without breaking contact like normal so I just avoid it altogether.
Anyhow a lot of these issues I adapted to pretty decently until I turned 30 and realized the stuff wasn't improving even with a few years of weekly therapy sessions with 2 different psychotherapists. Always struggled with panic attacks and chronic anxiety. I also have never been able to learn math equasions for example x = y type stuff. My brain goes "Why is a letter in math" and I used to read and write backwards.
I recently got engaged and my FIance after spending 8 months with me said she thinks somethings off, "No offense". None taken.. Anyways.. I saw a top psychologist in my state and spent a few hours on a few different occasions with them. Took some tests and they told me I have:
I'm just wondering, do I even have a chance in hell at applying for SSI/SSDI or any type of assistance or am I going to have to try and find a job that will accomodate me or something? I have yet to find one of those by the way. I am very forthcoming with my conditions and typically this results in no hire. I have applied for over 100 jobs since 2019. I've heard back from a dozen or so, and the rest just likely throw my application in the trash.
I don't understand anything about disability or social security and my mom has told me I need to try and apply for benefits. Is it worth my time at all having only 12 work credits? Am I even eligible for SSI or SSDI? I don't know what to do anymore I'm feeling kinda depressed now because I have lived my whole life in a lie it feels like. I have had to always do things that "normal" people do and it has ground me into the dirt. I was very lucky to meet my fiancee online and we ended up talking for a few months before meeting in person. SHe loves me to death, I love her very much too although it took me a long time to learn what I was actually feeling and learn how to commit myself and be a good Fiance.
I just don't know anymore what to do, where to turn, who to ask.. Thank you.
p.s My mother never took me to a doctor even though family and friends of hers always told her something was wrong with me and that she needed to. My aunt used to tell her I had asperger's or something. She was afraid they'd medicate me. I kinda got screwed in that sense now that I am learning more about this process..
submitted by ButterscotchCivil417 to SocialSecurity [link] [comments]
My whole life I've had a hard time relating with people, connecting with people, making eye contact, enjoying the same things as others. I always tended to obsess on something for example if I took a part-time job I would burn myself out because I couldn't help but focus on work after work. To the point I'd break rules to login to resources and do research off the clock, resulting in me being fired.
When I was a child I would be more excited about the box the gift came in that I could hide in from everyone, instead of the gift itself. I didn't ever like parties with lots of kids, I would tend to hide until the party was over and call my mom until she came and picked me up. I couldn't handle kids tapping pencils in the class so my teacher would put me in the hallway, this to me was a treat not a punishment. I don't like making eye contact it feels really weird and I'm not good at it. When I practiced it someone said I creeped them out because I would just stare straight into their eyes without breaking contact like normal so I just avoid it altogether.
Anyhow a lot of these issues I adapted to pretty decently until I turned 30 and realized the stuff wasn't improving even with a few years of weekly therapy sessions with 2 different psychotherapists. Always struggled with panic attacks and chronic anxiety. I also have never been able to learn math equasions for example x = y type stuff. My brain goes "Why is a letter in math" and I used to read and write backwards.
I recently got engaged and my FIance after spending 8 months with me said she thinks somethings off, "No offense". None taken.. Anyways.. I saw a top psychologist in my state and spent a few hours on a few different occasions with them. Took some tests and they told me I have:
- Schizotypal Personality Disorder
- Mathematics Learning Disability
- Post Concussion Syndrome (Severe TBI in a motor vehicle accident 2013)
- Panic Disorder
- Generalized Anxiety Disorder
- Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 2
I'm just wondering, do I even have a chance in hell at applying for SSI/SSDI or any type of assistance or am I going to have to try and find a job that will accomodate me or something? I have yet to find one of those by the way. I am very forthcoming with my conditions and typically this results in no hire. I have applied for over 100 jobs since 2019. I've heard back from a dozen or so, and the rest just likely throw my application in the trash.
I don't understand anything about disability or social security and my mom has told me I need to try and apply for benefits. Is it worth my time at all having only 12 work credits? Am I even eligible for SSI or SSDI? I don't know what to do anymore I'm feeling kinda depressed now because I have lived my whole life in a lie it feels like. I have had to always do things that "normal" people do and it has ground me into the dirt. I was very lucky to meet my fiancee online and we ended up talking for a few months before meeting in person. SHe loves me to death, I love her very much too although it took me a long time to learn what I was actually feeling and learn how to commit myself and be a good Fiance.
I just don't know anymore what to do, where to turn, who to ask.. Thank you.
p.s My mother never took me to a doctor even though family and friends of hers always told her something was wrong with me and that she needed to. My aunt used to tell her I had asperger's or something. She was afraid they'd medicate me. I kinda got screwed in that sense now that I am learning more about this process..
2024.05.15 01:20 The_Dangal The Rule of Three
Air, shelter, water, and food, all essentials of life we take for granted. The gratitude of being alive,
smothered by emotional baggage. Just a bunch of pill induced zombies, riddled by life’s perplexities. Not
me, not any more at least. No, now I wake up every day reborn with a newly discovered purpose in life,
thanks to, him.
Most would be emotionally devastated and seek long term therapy, after what I had endured.
Most would need to be heavily medicated, to calm their anxiety of the fear he would return. No, not me,
the person I once was, is now dead. Suffocated, frozen, dehydrated, and starved out of me. Who I was
perished, and I am grateful. I am offering you the same, but before we get started, let me explain how I
arrived at this place of serenity.
The night was the same as always. I had just finished gorging myself on junk food while binge
watching a reality show. Empty bottles of soda surrounded me as I surfed the streaming networks.
Knowing my weight was getting out of control, I still managed to finish off the bag of greasy potato
chips. My bottles of meds sat on the end table waiting for me. Depression, anxiety, stomach, and heart
pills all courtesy of the negligence of my life choices. One by one I swallowed the antidotes of a better
me. Yet, there never seemed to be a stronger version of myself, no matter how many pills I ingested.
Falling asleep, I told myself tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow I will try harder. As I drifted
off to sleep, I felt a sting in my neck, only waking up for a few seconds. My eyes opened just enough to
see him standing over me. Fighting to stay awake, my eyes latched closed, and I fell into the darkness.
Upon awaking, I could hear sounds of mumbles surrounding me. Feeling heavy and disoriented, I
managed to flicker my eyelids. As the minutes passed, my surroundings became more lucid. The foul
stench of pig shit singed my nose hairs. Dust from old haybales stimulated my sense of smell, inducing a
sneeze. An unimaginable pain coursed through my mouth. Still dazed and confused, I heard a voice say,
"we can't have that, now, can we?". Once again, I felt a sting in my neck, causing me to drift out of
reality.
"Wake up", I heard as I came to, "we need to get started". Started with what, I tried to ask. Yet,
my mouth wouldn't open. Tranquilized still, I thought maybe my brain just wasn't cooperating with my
body. Flexing my jaw, I tried again to speak, it was useless. All I could do was mumble. My words were
nothing more than muffled grunts behind a padded wall.
Looking around, I could see I was not alone. Vision blurry, I still managed to make out a large
silhouette of a man sitting in front of me holding a cutting needle and thread. He then placed the needle
on a barrel and stood up. Whistling, "The Sun will come out tomorrow", I began to look around. There were other people with us. Including myself, all tied to chairs and mouths sewn shut. Three of us were men. The fourth was a woman in her
mid-forties. She was crying and moaning uncontrollably. Mucus ran down her face dripping from her
chin. Trying to console her, I batted my eyes. It was all I could do without having the use of my mouth
and arms.
The injection he had no doughtily given me, had worn off. Like the woman, I found myself in panic
mode. My heart raced fast. I thought I would have a heart attack. Wanting to scream, I
couldn't. Wanting to run but I was incapacitated. Fighting my way out, entered my mind, but how? How,
with my hands bound behind my back. Besides, I wasn't a fighter, and the man was massive. He would
be very intimidating under any circumstance. His raggedy hair was sandy blonde with a mixture of gray.
Deep wrinkles hid behind a handlebar mustache, which stretched across his face. Thick eyebrows sat
untamed above his devilish eyes. Watching him, I tried not to make eye contact. I looked everywhere,
other than at him. The other two men looked as frightened as me. One man, the bigger one, had tears
but made no sounds. The other man was a very frail older man. He shifted side to side as he tried yelling
from behind his fastened lips. His arms bared scars of that of a junkie. His body, covered in scabs.
Cautiously, I looked around. A rusty old plow sat in the corner next to some feed sacks. A saddle
lay across an old broken table. Two horses stood quietly behind their stall door. I could see rays of light
shine through the cracks between the boards. It was daylight, knowing that gave me comfort somehow.
The barn was dusty, and as painful as it would be, I hoped I would sneeze again. At least then I could
scream. Abruptly the man stopped whistling and spoke.
Your mouths are bound together so that I cannot hear you. People talk too much, making the
world noisy. All loud with pathetic excuses of their weaknesses. I am not going to kill you. Your life is in
your own hands. Up to this point, you have wasted your life hiding behind your addictions. Cowering
and leaning on crutches of life’s temptations. I am here to save you from yourselves.
The rule of three is simple. You can survive three minutes without air, three hours without
shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. If you truly desire to live, then you will
triumph. If not, you will perish. I am here to help you unpack your emotional baggage. Air, the very
breath you breathe, you have taken for granted. So, please slow your breathing and relax. We are about
to begin.
While you were sleeping, I provided you with adequate fluids and nutrition. I cannot have you
starting off, on an empty tank. I want to be as fair as possible and make this a pleasant experience.
Though, I warn you it will not be easy, and you will have to dig deep within yourselves.
The burly man began whistling once again. He placed an egg timer on a barrel, grabbed a plastic
bag and spoke. You can survive three minutes with no air. Do you have the desire and strength to want
to live? For you, I truly hope so.
Standing behind the heavier man he turned the timer and then placed the plastic bag over his
head. The man jerked in his chair, thrashing about. One minute, he said. The man still moving wildly.
Two minutes, almost there just hold on. Three minutes he announced, ripping the bag from the head of
the now motionless man. “Oh dear, I guess he did not have what it takes, next”. My heart raced even
faster as he stood next to the now inconsolable woman. I would be after her. I had to slow my breathing
if I were to live. Picking up another bag, he stood behind her.
The air went in and out her nose as she hyperventilated. “There, there, I’m not going to hurt you”,
he said, as he patted her on the shoulders. “Three minutes is a miniature amount of time. I wish you the
very best.” Her legs kicked out lunging back and forth. Her muffled shrieks filled the barn. “Are you
ready?” He then reset the timer. Fearing for my own life, I turned my head and concentrated on my
breathing. Trying hard to block her out, I went to another place in my head. As hard as it was, I imagined
I was calm and at peace lying on a sandy shore. Desperately, I wanted to cover my ears. Her loud cries
soon became small whimpers. Then to gurgles as she choked on her own vomit. Turning my head back
towards her, I could see her convulsing as life left her body. “Not quite a minute, what a shame”, he
said.
Thinking back to when I was a child, and held my breath under water, outlasting my brother.
Back then, holding my breath was easy for me and I always won. Being in my mid-thirties, I wasn’t a
child any longer. Could I beat this, I questioned. Unlike the woman next to me, who reeked of tobacco, I
didn’t smoke. My chances were greater than those who came before me.
Excepting the inevitable, I practiced my anxiety exercises my therapist had taught me. Four, four,
four, inhale hold, exhale hold. If I panic, I will surely suffocate, I told myself. The other man was calmer
now and followed my lead. Our eyes locked on to one another as we breathed. “Very good, that is what
I want to see, a thirst for life, the will to live.”
Picking up a bag, he then stood behind me. I took a deep breath as he turned the timer. I felt the
panic trying to set in, but I pushed it deep down. Oddly enough, the tune he’d been whistling popped
into my head. “The sun will come out tomorrow”, played as the bag was put over my head. “So, you got
to hang on ‘til tomorrow.” Not wanting to see the blurred images through the bag, I closed my eyes. I
just kept humming the tune in my head. “One minute”, he said. Getting more difficult to hold my breath,
I could feel my heart beating faster and my blood pressure rising. The tune still reeling in my head,
“tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow”. “Two minutes”. I can do this, I’m almost there, but my
mind was getting foggy, and my chest tightened. My muscles tensed up as I felt my existence dwindle
away. The tune that kept me going had faded away somewhere deep into my brain. Hungry for air, I
started scratching my hands behind my back. I was going to die. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I managed to
think one last time. “Three Minutes”!
Air rushed through my nose, as I clung to the remaining life I had. It was the greatest feeling just
being able to breathe. I’d made it, I had beat him, I was alive. “Congratulations, you did well”. “Breath
and continue to appreciate the gift, I have given you”.
Tears rushed down my cheeks, as I sat watching the man set the stage for the last occupant. As
sympathetic as I was, I was overwhelmed too just be alive. Still fighting my anxiety, I closed my eyes,
four, four, four. Sounds of distress and faint scuffling could be heard, yet I refused to open my eyes.
Three minutes passed quickly. “We have another fighter, outstanding.” Opening my eyes, I seen that the
other man had also survived. “Two out of three, I wished it faired better.” “It is a pity they perished, yet
the pigs will eat well.” “Nothing should ever go to waste”. “Their carcasses are a valuable resource.” I
am thankful for their contribution.”
“I will let you rest up.” The next gift, is that of shelter.” “People of the world scratch and claw to
have bigger dwellings of that of their neighbor.” Never being thankful of the shelters warmth when it is
cold.” “Not a second thought about the materials taken from the earth to provide that comfort.” “I will
teach you to not care about the size or the looks. You won’t care if it’s a barn or a house made of sticks.
You’ll learn to be content as it shelters you from the storm.
Not understanding what was coming next, I tried thinking of ways to escape. Wringing my hands
together, I tried loosening the rope. He had his back turned removing the bodies from the chairs. Yet
somehow he still managed to catch on to what I was doing. “That’s a double sheet bend knot.” Try as
you might, you will not loosen or untie it.” “Yet I commend you on your perseverance.” “If you escape,
you will not learn the valuable lesson I am trying to teach you.” “Sit and be patient, like I told you
before, I’m not going to kill you.”
He was right. The more I tried twisting my wrists, the tighter the rope became making them bleed
and burn. “Why was he doing this and why me”, I wanted to ask. The inside of my mouth was so dry,
and I was thirsty. All I could think about was water to wash out the metallic taste left from the wounds
of my lips. Making eye contact with the other man, I wondered if he was as thirsty as I. “The storm will
be here soon, and we can continue.”, he said as he removed a hacksaw hanging from the barn wall.
We watched as the man carried on as if he’d done this before. He laid the saw across a table.
Sweat dripped from my head as I panicked. What was he going to do to us? I thought. Do not worry, this
saw is not for you, he said as he placed the woman’s body on the table. He then began to dismember
her legs. He continued to hack through the bodies throughout the day. He would casually take breaks
between the removal of the body parts. After he was done, he used a rusty old wheel barrel to take the
parts out of the barn. He kept his word. I could hear the pigs happily squealing as he fed them.
The light that had previously comforted me dwindled away as darkness approached. As frightened
as I felt, all I could think about was water. “It is time”, he said as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I will
untie your arms so you can move freely. I encourage you to move as much as possible to keep the blood
circulating. Frostbite and hypothermia are inevitable if you let yourself settle. You can wear the clothes
you have on, but nothing more.
The barn was heated with an old wood stove. Our captor had fed it wood throughout the day. Yet
the wind from the storm outside seeped through the cracks. A chill came over me, fearing what was
next. The four technique no longer working. He then placed a makeshift collar around our necks.
Connected to the collar was a chain. After untying the ropes from behind our backs he told us to stand.
Fearing what he would do, I did what he told me.
He then unlatched the wooden brace holding the barn doors shut, unveiling winter’s wrath.
Weather in Michigan was unpredictable and harsh at times. That night was no different. The wind
bustled through the doors as we all stood staring into the night. Snow was falling rapidly and had quickly
begun accumulating. “Tonight’s storm is only a mild one but will last a few hours.” “Having your mouths
bound is a positive.” “It will protect your lungs.” Your heart rate will lower the less you move so keep
moving to boost your circulation.” “You will have to endure three hours in the weather.” “This trial is
brutal, I know but if your life is precious then you will improvise, adapt, and overcome.
He then led us by the chains out of the barn and into a wooden pen. It didn’t have a roof but was
too tall to climb over. “I know you must be thirsty, but if you try and eat the snow you will only amplify
dehydration and hypothermia.” He then removed the collars and locked the door. As he walked away in
his rabbit fur coat, he turned and once again said, “Do you have the desire to live, for you I truly hope
so.”
Frantically I surveyed the pen looking for a way out. The enclosure was made of old pallets, thin
boards, and cattle fence. It was sturdy enough to keep us in but not the wind out. It must have been
about twelve feet wide by twenty-four feet long. Rubbing my hands along the gaps, I felt something
warm run down my fingers. I had sliced my hand along the inside of one of the pallets. He had secured
razor blades and sharp nails from the inside to keep us from climbing out. Even if we were able to make
it to the top, we wouldn’t be able to climb over the razor wire that spiraled along the perimeter.
More frantic than I, the other man ran back and forth. He was shaking and sweating profusely. How
could he be sweating in this weather, I thought. On the other hand, I had begun to shiver. My feet had
already begun to tingle. Wearing only gym shorts, socks, and a t-shirt, I knew I must keep moving. The
other man was more fortunate than I. He was wearing pajama bottoms, socks and a hoodie. At least he
had a layer to break the wind.
The snow was dry and easy to move. Thinking maybe we could get out from the bottom. I began
moving the snow with my hands. As I moved it, I motioned for the other man to help. My attempts to
get his attention went unnoticed. He had found a nail long enough to cut through the stiches in his
mouth. Watching him, I debated on doing it myself. Though I thought of the burly man and his hacksaw.
Deciding it was best to keep my lips bound, I watched him saw through his. He yelled in agony as blood
dripped from his lips. Be quiet, I wanted to tell him, he’ll hear you.
When the last stitch broke the man dropped to his knees gasping and crying. He then stood up,
removed himself from his pants, and began urinating in the snow. “I’m Evan”, he said shivering and still
covering the white snow yellow. His urine smelled foul as the wind carried the smell. Not being able to
talk, I used a stick to spell out my name. Letter by letter, I spelled it out, Liam. He didn’t acknowledge
what I had written. He didn’t seem to care about what my name was.
Bending over he began to eat the yellow snow. Then pulling up his sleeves, he did something that
made my stomach churn. He picked off the scabs from his arms and started sucking on them. I now
understood he was detoxing and was trying to get a fix from the meth that had exited his body. I had a
cousin in jail once, who had described this same behavior from the inside. After doing this for a few
minutes he then spoke. Stuttering out his words, “I know it’s disgusting, but it is what it is.” “Now how
we gonna get out of this here, Liam. No matter what he was or what he spoke, it was comforting to hear
him speak to me.
Not knowing how to get out I just started moving. Shaking my head and still shivering, I began to
do jumping jacks. There wasn’t a way out and I was so cold. Knowing that I had to keep moving I
continued. I knew that if I didn’t move, my heart would slow and eventually stop. “You gonna listen to
that Behemoth or ya gonna try and help me find a way out?” Stopping, I once again tried looking from
the bottom. He looked for a way to climb over. Neither of us found a way to escape. Both of us,
shivering we stopped looking.
As we huddled together in the corner, a voice came from a speaker. “One hour has passed, two
hours remain.” Your lust for drugs trumps your lust to live.” “It will be your demise.” He’d seen, he’s
watching us, I thought. Not wanting to die, I began running in circles. The pain was excruciating. Every
step I took was like stepping on needles. My nose felt like it would break off.
“It’s no use, we’re gonna die, Evan said as he plopped on the ground. Using my arms, I motioned
for him to get up, but he refused. He sat in the corner with his teeth chattering and shoulders shaking.
While Evan sat, I continued. Running from one end to the other, tears freezing as they plummeted from
my eyes. As I ran, I tripped over something that caught my attention. It was a stack of a few boards
hidden under the snow. Uncovering them I counted them out in my head. There were several I dug out. I
crafted a fort in my head. We could use the wood for a shelter. Once again, I motioned for Evan to help.
Evan didn’t speak or move. “Two hours”, I heard as a voice projected from a hidden box.
Quickly I stumbled to Evan, shaking him. Tears ran down my cheeks as I faced the truth. I was
alone. Evan’s inability to try had snuffed out his life. He was dead. Time seemed to stand still in that
moment. Looking at his lifeless body, I realized he wasn’t a frail old man. He in fact was my age. The
drugs just made him look old. My sadness for him abandoned me to be replaced with anger. He should
have tried harder. I was now alone. He had left me alone.
Feeling numb and secluded, I wanted to give up. There wasn’t much fight left in me, yet
something in me snapped. I didn’t want to die. Ripping my wet clothes off, I threw them to the ground.
Trying to keep my temperature above freezing, I jumped and staggered in the snow. Laying Evan’s body
flat on the ground, I thought I would use it as a warm layer between me and the ground. One board at a
time, leaned them over Evan’s body and up against the pen, making an ominous clubhouse. Shivering
and naked, I crawled inside and laid on Evan’s lifeless body.
No longer having the strength to move, I lay crying. In the last hour I replayed my life. If only I had
another chance to do it all over again. If only I thought as my eyes closed. The door then opened, “Three
hours”. “Stand up.”, he said as he wrapped a fur coat around my frigid body. ”Come on, you have passed
but you are not out of the woods yet.” Replacing the collar around my neck he then led me back into the
barn.
“I have prepared a warm bath for you.” He then helped me lift my legs over a galvanized water
trough. “There, there”, he said, “Just sit and let the bath warm your blood. The pain of prickly needles
washed over my body as the numbness dwindled. Fading in and out, I watched him carefully remove a
stockpot from the stove. He poured the water from the pot over my head. “Just relax, you should be
proud of yourself.” “You have outlasted all who came before you.” “You’re a fighter and you value your
life. I watched as he warmed pot after pot, continuously pouring them over me.
“I will have to give you warm fluids intravenously.” “Try to stand”, he said as he lifted me up and
out of the trough. He then dried my body with a towel. After he dressed me in dry clothing, he led me to
a makeshift bedroom converted from a stall.
As he assisted me into the bed, I noticed a tray with medical instruments on it. What were they
for I wondered, but to tired to care anymore. He then placed the I.V. needle in my arm and covered me
up. “Rest up and sleep while I deal with the frostbite.” Before I was able to think about what he had just
said, I went out.
Waking up, I was no longer cold. The shivering and pain from the night before gone yet replaced
with new discomfort. My hands, feet, face, and head all pulsing. Slowly, I removed the blanket with my
bandaged hands to see my feet. Both were wrapped in bandages. Looking over my entire body, I
reached for my face. It was also bandaged. I could feel that my ears and nose were missing. “I know this
must be shocking to you, but it had to be.” “You had deep frostbite in your fingers, toes, ears and nose.
They had to be amputated. “I have sealed off the wounds and have given you antibiotics to fight off
infection.” “Be grateful your alive.”
“You are very ambitious, and I want to reward you for your success. “If you can continue to
cooperate, I will remove the stitches from your lips. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to.” “Can you give me
word that you can stay quiet?” I nodded in agreement.
As promised, he removed the sutures from my lips. Handing me a tin cup of water, he told me to
drink. Words can’t express how refreshing the first sip was. Not being able to control myself, I gulped
down the entire cup. Handing the cup back to him I managed to mumble, “more?” Violently, he struck
me in the face and stood up. “More, more more”, he yelled as he paced the floor. “Always wanting
more!” “You should have savored every last drop rather than gulping it down like a pig at a trough.”
“You have reached your third trial.” “Water is the source of all life and you will learn to appreciate it. Do
you have the desire to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.”
Locking the door behind him, he left the room. Feeling relief from his absence, I took a deep
breath. Concentrating on the air that went in and out my lungs, I was thankful to be alive. It had been a
couple of days since I was able to breathe through my mouth. I felt happiness and gratitude to just be
able to breathe. The blanket and bed kept me warm from the cold that seeped through the barn walls.
Feling relieved, I felt safe for that minute. I pulled the blanket up under my chin and just lived in the
moment. Looking for ways to escape no longer crossed my mind. Still fearful of the man, yet I felt a
strange feeling of gratitude toward him.
Mixed emotions danced around inside of me as I lay. Thinking of the others that were with me, I
pitied them. Had they truly wanted to survive, they would be alive. Had they fought harder, they would
have won against his trials. My sympathy for them abandoned my thoughts, replaced with
disappointment. Questioning my mental state, I laid wondering if I’d gone mad. How could I sympathize
with a man who had essentially tortured me. How could I be thankful to a killer, I wondered. As
comfortable as I was, I was thirsty. Three days was a long time to go without water. Knowing this, I
closed my eyes to try to sleep through it.
A familiar tune whistled through the cracks of the wall. My eyes blurry from crust, I wiped it away
with my bandaged hand. Curious, I tried peeking through a hole in a board. Seeing the two horses in the
next stall brought back anxiety from the first trial. Sounds of mumbling could be heard. Listening
intensely, I realized he had more victims. Wanting to scream out to them to calm their breathing, I said
nothing. Fearful he would kill me if I spoke. Though I didn’t have to. He was telling them to be calm and
they would live. If only they would listen, they could live. One after another perished throughout the
ordeal. Once again mixed emotions of sympathy and anger fought within me. I slammed my hand
against the stall boards. Why am I angry at them, I questioned myself. Hearing the distinct sound of the
hacksaw cutting through the bodies, I became sick. I crawled back in the bed and covered my head.
“Wake up, you have rested enough.” Leading me into the room where the bodies were, he
motioned for me to pick the parts up. “I will cut the meat and you will load it up.” “Do you
understand?”, he asked. I nodded yes and began putting the severed limbs in the wheelbarrow.
“Take it out back to the pigs.” “I trust you won’t try to run.” You will not get very far in your
condition and the weather” He was right, still bandaged and weak I knew I would freeze. Reluctantly I
put a arm, leg, and head in the wheelbarrow.
Once again, the cold made me shiver as I treaded through the snow. The night was calm. The
moon shined down on the solar panels that lined the buildings. I was on some sort of homestead.
Nearing the structure that housed the pigs, I cringed at the thought of feeding them. The squealing led
me to the hog house. Opening the door and entering, I gasped in horror. Piles of bones lay everywhere
within the house. The pigs squealed in delight as I tossed the body parts to them. The smell was pungent
and took my breath away. Not being able to hold back, I vomited the only liquids I had in me. After
unloading my delivery, I left to retrieve another load. Feet still bandaged, and I was cold, the thought of
running left my mind. Yearning for the warm bed, I trudged my way back to the barn. This went on
throughout the night.
“Almost done, this is the last of it.”, he said as he cut through a torso of a woman. “You have done
well, and I am proud of you.” “I know your cold and must be thirsty.” Yet, you still have forty-eight hours
left until you can replenish your thirst. “Keep motivated and you will triumph over your it” After the last
load was completed, he led me to the bed and rebandaged my wounds. Curiously looking down at my
severed toes, I seen I was missing five of them. The same as he bandaged my hands. I was four less
fingers. Two were gone from each hand.
My stomach grumbled as I tossed and turned. All I could think about was water and food. I
eventually passed out from the nights work. Waking up, I felt disoriented and weak. The hunger for food
and water still consuming my thoughts. “Twenty-Four hours left”, his voice said from outside the stall.
“Get up, I have more work for you.” “You have to earn your keep.”
The man then entered the room and placed the collar around my neck. “Here is a coat to keep
you warm, he said as he placed it on my back. Then he handed me some rubber boots. “These should
help keep your feet dry while you dig.” Wanting to ask, dig what, I didn’t dare from the fear of being
struck again. The task will be difficult but not impossible. Handing me a shovel, he led me to the spot he
wanted dug.
“The weather has let up and the temperature has risen. I can not trust that you might try to run.
He then locked the chain to a stake in the ground. “The hog house needs cleaned of the bones.” “Dig me
a hole big enough to bury the remains of the less fortunate.” “I will return in twenty-four hours.” You
have fared well so far, keep up the good work and you will be rewarded.” He then turned and walked
away.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and it felt warn against me face. The black sky turned to a
canvas of pastels. The view was stunning under any condition. After admiring the horizon, I started my
grueling work. Trying to dig with missing toes was difficult and excruciating. Placing the shovel into the
frozen ground, I bared down with all my weight. Breaking the ground seemed unfeasible, but I managed.
Letting out agonizing cries, I repeated the movements until I finally moved dirt.
Scanning around, my head was on a swivel looking for cameras. The thought of trying to escape
weighing heavily. Using my bandaged hands, I felt for any gaps in my collar. It was tight around my neck.
I Then looked for any weak links in the chain but found none. The steak the chain was hooked to must
have been buried ten feet, I thought as I gave it a tug. Giving up on any escape attempts, I continued to
dig.
The hunger and dehydration had started to take effect. My head pounded like a hammer on a
nail. I became nauseous. Fearing I might throw up, I sit and rested on the ground. Looking down at the
homestead, I wondered who the man was. Nearly falling asleep, I pushed myself up off the ground.
Visions of water surrounding me engulfed my every thought. God, I was thirsty.
After I finished digging the hole I fell to my knees in exhaustion. Worrying that if I fell asleep, I
would die of dehydration. Standing up, I desperately tried staying awake. The chain weighed down my
neck making it hard to stand. Using the shovel as a brace, I wedged it into the ground and balanced the
chain over top of the shovel. It lifted the weight off me, allowing me to stand easier. Standing and
swaying, I watched as day turned to night and night back to day. “Congratulations”, the man said as he
walked up the hill toward me.
“II knew you would conquer the test.” “You will soon be rewarded for your victory.” Leading me
back to the barn, I stumbled and fell. The man picked me up and helped me to my feet. As He laid me in
the bed, oddly enough I wanted to thank him. “Before I tend to your bandages, I am going to start an I.V.
to restore your electrolytes. He then handed me a cup of water. “Drink”, he said. Wanting badly to gulp
it down, I refrained and sipped slowly. The water was refreshing as it moistened my mouth. Water
wasn’t something I normally craved but, in that moment, it was all a I wanted. Living mostly on energy
drinks and sodas, I rarely drank it.
As I sipped, I thought about my body and how I had neglected it. Peculiar enough, the man was
giving me all I ever needed. He had somehow managed to push my stronger version to the surface.
“Good news”, he said as he wrapped the final bandage around my foot. “You have made it to the last
trial.” “But before we discuss that, I want to reward you on your accomplishments.” “I’m sure you have
questions, and I will allow you to ask them.” A little conversation will do us both some good.” I must say
I am as curious about you as you are of me.” He said as he poured me another cup of water. “But not
until you have rested.” “I look forward to it, I will see you this afternoon.” Locking the door behind him,
exhausted, I fell asleep.
Hunger pains interrupted my slumber. Turning about in the bed, images of food ravaged my
thoughts. Trying hard, I managed to push the vivid images of cheeseburgers out of my mind. Replacing
them with the image of the man conversing with me. What would I ask him, I pondered. Would I set him
off again and be fed to the pigs. One would think that I wouldn’t want to talk to him after he had cut off
my nose, yet strangely enough I did. I was curious about him.
My tossing about abruptly interrupted as I heard the man enter the room. “Well now, how do you
feel this afternoon?” He asked, as he pulled a old wooden chair next the bed and sat down. To scared to
speak I laid quietly. “It Is o.k., he said cheerfully as he patted my leg. “You may speak”. “Better but
hungry”, I managed to mumble. “Yes, I know you are hungry, but you have entered your final trial.” You
must endure three weeks with no food.” You have been here a week.” “Two weeks remain.”
“People of the world are gluttons. Indulging in prepackaged garbage to feed the body. Never
having to hunt or forge for it. If you make it the three weeks, you will have learned to appreciate what
you put in your mouth. You will think about what it is for, rather than just stuffing your face. Do you still
have the desire to live, for you I truly hope so.
“What is your name?”
“Liam, my names, Liam”
“Well, Liam, my names Doc” “It is finally nice to meet your true self.” I’ve been waiting along time for
this.” “You are now worthy to speak to.” “You have shed your old, infected skin and are growing new
skin.” “I have helped you thus far to create a better, you.” “You may speak freely”.
“Why are you doing this”?
“To save you.” “To rid you of the worlds temptations” “I am extracting all you have digested and
replacing it with the will to survive.”
“Who are you”, I fearfully asked.
“I am a doctor who the world cast out due to what they call negligence.” “I only pushed my patients to
better themselves and refused to subscribe fake antidotes”. “I didn’t hand them a crutch when they
could walk on their own.”” I left the city and moved off grid”. “Here I am free to practice as I see fit”.
“My patients now, are those that want to better themselves but just need a little push.” “Yet, none have
come as far as you, Liam.” “What is it, you desire, Liam?”
“A life of fulfillment”, I said.
“Are you not now, achieving that goal, Liam?”
Before I could answer, he told me, “Enough talk for the day”, we have work to do. “Don’t speak
unless I ask you to”. Unhooking my I.V., he then furnished me with warm clothes and boots again. “Grab
the wheelbarrow”, he said as we excited the barn. He then led me to the hog house. “I want you to pick
up the bones and put them in the hole you dug. Feeling weak, I pushed through the chore. The sight of
the mutilated parts wasn’t as repulsive to me as before. Yet, I did wonder who they were and where
they had come from. The day sped by quickly.
That night, I laid in the bed thinking of the man. Could he be right with what he was doing. I did
feel a new feeling of accomplishment. Had I truly shed my old self. Had he had given me what every
doctor before him had failed at. Questioning my own thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.
As the days went by, I would often help him rid the world of the weak. Every few days he would
bring in new patients. One after one they failed his trials. Some made it past the first, only to die in the
pen or the cooler, depending on the weather. We had many evening conversations where I learned
more about Doc, as he did me. Some nights I would listen to him mourn their deaths. He would often sit
by the stove talking to himself and crying. He would question their inability to understand what he was
doing. Finding myself somewhat sympathetic to him, I spoke out. “It’ll be o.k. you’re a good doctor, they
just don’t have a desire to live. “Thank you”, he said, “but do not speak unless I tell you”. With that I
climbed into bed and covered my head.
Ribs now visible, I was nearing death. No longer having the energy to help him any longer, I spent
the remaining few days in bed. As the final day approached, he came to me and said, If you don’t die
through the night, I will intravenously feed you the nutrients your body requires. Then you can truly live
your life. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled the blanket over me. You have been an outstanding and
cooperative patient and I thank you. Share to the world the gift I have given you.
Waking up, I was confused and again fighting off a sedated state. Rubbing my eyes in dismay, I
stumbled out of bed and tripped over my tennis shoes. Looking down at my disfigured feet, I was
perplexed at the sight of the floor. Continuously wiping at my vision, I scanned the room. Soda bottles
littered the nightstand. An empty potato chip bag lay empty on the bed.
Falling onto the floor, I curled up into a fetal position and cried. Visions of the dead filled my
thoughts. My mind was baffled with an emotional and ethical struggle. Four, four, four, I tried to
manage as anxiety reared its ugly head. “No!”, I yelled. I was alive and I was thriving. Quickly jumping to
my feet, I ran to my dresser mirror. It would be the first time, seeing the new me since my amputations.
Raising my head slowly my eyes met a man I had never seen before. A mangled mess stared back at me.
Yet, I didn’t see the ugly. I seen a victor. A man who fought for his life. I seen a man with the desire to
live. Admiring my new self, I calming starting whistling that familiar tune. I knew what I had to do.
The next few months, I spent talking to the detectives. Occasionally throwing them a false bone
toward their investigation. Had I not been a missing person, I would have avoided the police all
together.
A year has passed since my abduction. My life has changed for the better. I have faired well. I
often think about Doc and if he is still practicing. I did what he asked. I survive, appreciate, and share my
new gift to the world. I no longer spend my days waiting for life to toss me a crumb of its cookie. There
is value in the very air we breathe, the water we drink, the dwelling that shelters us, and the nutriment
we eat. Yet, it’s been difficult to convince people of this without some persuasion. So, please calm your
breathing. I am not going to kill you. This will only take three minutes. So, relax, do you have the desire
to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.
submitted by The_Dangal to nosleep [link] [comments]
smothered by emotional baggage. Just a bunch of pill induced zombies, riddled by life’s perplexities. Not
me, not any more at least. No, now I wake up every day reborn with a newly discovered purpose in life,
thanks to, him.
Most would be emotionally devastated and seek long term therapy, after what I had endured.
Most would need to be heavily medicated, to calm their anxiety of the fear he would return. No, not me,
the person I once was, is now dead. Suffocated, frozen, dehydrated, and starved out of me. Who I was
perished, and I am grateful. I am offering you the same, but before we get started, let me explain how I
arrived at this place of serenity.
The night was the same as always. I had just finished gorging myself on junk food while binge
watching a reality show. Empty bottles of soda surrounded me as I surfed the streaming networks.
Knowing my weight was getting out of control, I still managed to finish off the bag of greasy potato
chips. My bottles of meds sat on the end table waiting for me. Depression, anxiety, stomach, and heart
pills all courtesy of the negligence of my life choices. One by one I swallowed the antidotes of a better
me. Yet, there never seemed to be a stronger version of myself, no matter how many pills I ingested.
Falling asleep, I told myself tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow I will try harder. As I drifted
off to sleep, I felt a sting in my neck, only waking up for a few seconds. My eyes opened just enough to
see him standing over me. Fighting to stay awake, my eyes latched closed, and I fell into the darkness.
Upon awaking, I could hear sounds of mumbles surrounding me. Feeling heavy and disoriented, I
managed to flicker my eyelids. As the minutes passed, my surroundings became more lucid. The foul
stench of pig shit singed my nose hairs. Dust from old haybales stimulated my sense of smell, inducing a
sneeze. An unimaginable pain coursed through my mouth. Still dazed and confused, I heard a voice say,
"we can't have that, now, can we?". Once again, I felt a sting in my neck, causing me to drift out of
reality.
"Wake up", I heard as I came to, "we need to get started". Started with what, I tried to ask. Yet,
my mouth wouldn't open. Tranquilized still, I thought maybe my brain just wasn't cooperating with my
body. Flexing my jaw, I tried again to speak, it was useless. All I could do was mumble. My words were
nothing more than muffled grunts behind a padded wall.
Looking around, I could see I was not alone. Vision blurry, I still managed to make out a large
silhouette of a man sitting in front of me holding a cutting needle and thread. He then placed the needle
on a barrel and stood up. Whistling, "The Sun will come out tomorrow", I began to look around. There were other people with us. Including myself, all tied to chairs and mouths sewn shut. Three of us were men. The fourth was a woman in her
mid-forties. She was crying and moaning uncontrollably. Mucus ran down her face dripping from her
chin. Trying to console her, I batted my eyes. It was all I could do without having the use of my mouth
and arms.
The injection he had no doughtily given me, had worn off. Like the woman, I found myself in panic
mode. My heart raced fast. I thought I would have a heart attack. Wanting to scream, I
couldn't. Wanting to run but I was incapacitated. Fighting my way out, entered my mind, but how? How,
with my hands bound behind my back. Besides, I wasn't a fighter, and the man was massive. He would
be very intimidating under any circumstance. His raggedy hair was sandy blonde with a mixture of gray.
Deep wrinkles hid behind a handlebar mustache, which stretched across his face. Thick eyebrows sat
untamed above his devilish eyes. Watching him, I tried not to make eye contact. I looked everywhere,
other than at him. The other two men looked as frightened as me. One man, the bigger one, had tears
but made no sounds. The other man was a very frail older man. He shifted side to side as he tried yelling
from behind his fastened lips. His arms bared scars of that of a junkie. His body, covered in scabs.
Cautiously, I looked around. A rusty old plow sat in the corner next to some feed sacks. A saddle
lay across an old broken table. Two horses stood quietly behind their stall door. I could see rays of light
shine through the cracks between the boards. It was daylight, knowing that gave me comfort somehow.
The barn was dusty, and as painful as it would be, I hoped I would sneeze again. At least then I could
scream. Abruptly the man stopped whistling and spoke.
Your mouths are bound together so that I cannot hear you. People talk too much, making the
world noisy. All loud with pathetic excuses of their weaknesses. I am not going to kill you. Your life is in
your own hands. Up to this point, you have wasted your life hiding behind your addictions. Cowering
and leaning on crutches of life’s temptations. I am here to save you from yourselves.
The rule of three is simple. You can survive three minutes without air, three hours without
shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. If you truly desire to live, then you will
triumph. If not, you will perish. I am here to help you unpack your emotional baggage. Air, the very
breath you breathe, you have taken for granted. So, please slow your breathing and relax. We are about
to begin.
While you were sleeping, I provided you with adequate fluids and nutrition. I cannot have you
starting off, on an empty tank. I want to be as fair as possible and make this a pleasant experience.
Though, I warn you it will not be easy, and you will have to dig deep within yourselves.
The burly man began whistling once again. He placed an egg timer on a barrel, grabbed a plastic
bag and spoke. You can survive three minutes with no air. Do you have the desire and strength to want
to live? For you, I truly hope so.
Standing behind the heavier man he turned the timer and then placed the plastic bag over his
head. The man jerked in his chair, thrashing about. One minute, he said. The man still moving wildly.
Two minutes, almost there just hold on. Three minutes he announced, ripping the bag from the head of
the now motionless man. “Oh dear, I guess he did not have what it takes, next”. My heart raced even
faster as he stood next to the now inconsolable woman. I would be after her. I had to slow my breathing
if I were to live. Picking up another bag, he stood behind her.
The air went in and out her nose as she hyperventilated. “There, there, I’m not going to hurt you”,
he said, as he patted her on the shoulders. “Three minutes is a miniature amount of time. I wish you the
very best.” Her legs kicked out lunging back and forth. Her muffled shrieks filled the barn. “Are you
ready?” He then reset the timer. Fearing for my own life, I turned my head and concentrated on my
breathing. Trying hard to block her out, I went to another place in my head. As hard as it was, I imagined
I was calm and at peace lying on a sandy shore. Desperately, I wanted to cover my ears. Her loud cries
soon became small whimpers. Then to gurgles as she choked on her own vomit. Turning my head back
towards her, I could see her convulsing as life left her body. “Not quite a minute, what a shame”, he
said.
Thinking back to when I was a child, and held my breath under water, outlasting my brother.
Back then, holding my breath was easy for me and I always won. Being in my mid-thirties, I wasn’t a
child any longer. Could I beat this, I questioned. Unlike the woman next to me, who reeked of tobacco, I
didn’t smoke. My chances were greater than those who came before me.
Excepting the inevitable, I practiced my anxiety exercises my therapist had taught me. Four, four,
four, inhale hold, exhale hold. If I panic, I will surely suffocate, I told myself. The other man was calmer
now and followed my lead. Our eyes locked on to one another as we breathed. “Very good, that is what
I want to see, a thirst for life, the will to live.”
Picking up a bag, he then stood behind me. I took a deep breath as he turned the timer. I felt the
panic trying to set in, but I pushed it deep down. Oddly enough, the tune he’d been whistling popped
into my head. “The sun will come out tomorrow”, played as the bag was put over my head. “So, you got
to hang on ‘til tomorrow.” Not wanting to see the blurred images through the bag, I closed my eyes. I
just kept humming the tune in my head. “One minute”, he said. Getting more difficult to hold my breath,
I could feel my heart beating faster and my blood pressure rising. The tune still reeling in my head,
“tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow”. “Two minutes”. I can do this, I’m almost there, but my
mind was getting foggy, and my chest tightened. My muscles tensed up as I felt my existence dwindle
away. The tune that kept me going had faded away somewhere deep into my brain. Hungry for air, I
started scratching my hands behind my back. I was going to die. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I managed to
think one last time. “Three Minutes”!
Air rushed through my nose, as I clung to the remaining life I had. It was the greatest feeling just
being able to breathe. I’d made it, I had beat him, I was alive. “Congratulations, you did well”. “Breath
and continue to appreciate the gift, I have given you”.
Tears rushed down my cheeks, as I sat watching the man set the stage for the last occupant. As
sympathetic as I was, I was overwhelmed too just be alive. Still fighting my anxiety, I closed my eyes,
four, four, four. Sounds of distress and faint scuffling could be heard, yet I refused to open my eyes.
Three minutes passed quickly. “We have another fighter, outstanding.” Opening my eyes, I seen that the
other man had also survived. “Two out of three, I wished it faired better.” “It is a pity they perished, yet
the pigs will eat well.” “Nothing should ever go to waste”. “Their carcasses are a valuable resource.” I
am thankful for their contribution.”
“I will let you rest up.” The next gift, is that of shelter.” “People of the world scratch and claw to
have bigger dwellings of that of their neighbor.” Never being thankful of the shelters warmth when it is
cold.” “Not a second thought about the materials taken from the earth to provide that comfort.” “I will
teach you to not care about the size or the looks. You won’t care if it’s a barn or a house made of sticks.
You’ll learn to be content as it shelters you from the storm.
Not understanding what was coming next, I tried thinking of ways to escape. Wringing my hands
together, I tried loosening the rope. He had his back turned removing the bodies from the chairs. Yet
somehow he still managed to catch on to what I was doing. “That’s a double sheet bend knot.” Try as
you might, you will not loosen or untie it.” “Yet I commend you on your perseverance.” “If you escape,
you will not learn the valuable lesson I am trying to teach you.” “Sit and be patient, like I told you
before, I’m not going to kill you.”
He was right. The more I tried twisting my wrists, the tighter the rope became making them bleed
and burn. “Why was he doing this and why me”, I wanted to ask. The inside of my mouth was so dry,
and I was thirsty. All I could think about was water to wash out the metallic taste left from the wounds
of my lips. Making eye contact with the other man, I wondered if he was as thirsty as I. “The storm will
be here soon, and we can continue.”, he said as he removed a hacksaw hanging from the barn wall.
We watched as the man carried on as if he’d done this before. He laid the saw across a table.
Sweat dripped from my head as I panicked. What was he going to do to us? I thought. Do not worry, this
saw is not for you, he said as he placed the woman’s body on the table. He then began to dismember
her legs. He continued to hack through the bodies throughout the day. He would casually take breaks
between the removal of the body parts. After he was done, he used a rusty old wheel barrel to take the
parts out of the barn. He kept his word. I could hear the pigs happily squealing as he fed them.
The light that had previously comforted me dwindled away as darkness approached. As frightened
as I felt, all I could think about was water. “It is time”, he said as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I will
untie your arms so you can move freely. I encourage you to move as much as possible to keep the blood
circulating. Frostbite and hypothermia are inevitable if you let yourself settle. You can wear the clothes
you have on, but nothing more.
The barn was heated with an old wood stove. Our captor had fed it wood throughout the day. Yet
the wind from the storm outside seeped through the cracks. A chill came over me, fearing what was
next. The four technique no longer working. He then placed a makeshift collar around our necks.
Connected to the collar was a chain. After untying the ropes from behind our backs he told us to stand.
Fearing what he would do, I did what he told me.
He then unlatched the wooden brace holding the barn doors shut, unveiling winter’s wrath.
Weather in Michigan was unpredictable and harsh at times. That night was no different. The wind
bustled through the doors as we all stood staring into the night. Snow was falling rapidly and had quickly
begun accumulating. “Tonight’s storm is only a mild one but will last a few hours.” “Having your mouths
bound is a positive.” “It will protect your lungs.” Your heart rate will lower the less you move so keep
moving to boost your circulation.” “You will have to endure three hours in the weather.” “This trial is
brutal, I know but if your life is precious then you will improvise, adapt, and overcome.
He then led us by the chains out of the barn and into a wooden pen. It didn’t have a roof but was
too tall to climb over. “I know you must be thirsty, but if you try and eat the snow you will only amplify
dehydration and hypothermia.” He then removed the collars and locked the door. As he walked away in
his rabbit fur coat, he turned and once again said, “Do you have the desire to live, for you I truly hope
so.”
Frantically I surveyed the pen looking for a way out. The enclosure was made of old pallets, thin
boards, and cattle fence. It was sturdy enough to keep us in but not the wind out. It must have been
about twelve feet wide by twenty-four feet long. Rubbing my hands along the gaps, I felt something
warm run down my fingers. I had sliced my hand along the inside of one of the pallets. He had secured
razor blades and sharp nails from the inside to keep us from climbing out. Even if we were able to make
it to the top, we wouldn’t be able to climb over the razor wire that spiraled along the perimeter.
More frantic than I, the other man ran back and forth. He was shaking and sweating profusely. How
could he be sweating in this weather, I thought. On the other hand, I had begun to shiver. My feet had
already begun to tingle. Wearing only gym shorts, socks, and a t-shirt, I knew I must keep moving. The
other man was more fortunate than I. He was wearing pajama bottoms, socks and a hoodie. At least he
had a layer to break the wind.
The snow was dry and easy to move. Thinking maybe we could get out from the bottom. I began
moving the snow with my hands. As I moved it, I motioned for the other man to help. My attempts to
get his attention went unnoticed. He had found a nail long enough to cut through the stiches in his
mouth. Watching him, I debated on doing it myself. Though I thought of the burly man and his hacksaw.
Deciding it was best to keep my lips bound, I watched him saw through his. He yelled in agony as blood
dripped from his lips. Be quiet, I wanted to tell him, he’ll hear you.
When the last stitch broke the man dropped to his knees gasping and crying. He then stood up,
removed himself from his pants, and began urinating in the snow. “I’m Evan”, he said shivering and still
covering the white snow yellow. His urine smelled foul as the wind carried the smell. Not being able to
talk, I used a stick to spell out my name. Letter by letter, I spelled it out, Liam. He didn’t acknowledge
what I had written. He didn’t seem to care about what my name was.
Bending over he began to eat the yellow snow. Then pulling up his sleeves, he did something that
made my stomach churn. He picked off the scabs from his arms and started sucking on them. I now
understood he was detoxing and was trying to get a fix from the meth that had exited his body. I had a
cousin in jail once, who had described this same behavior from the inside. After doing this for a few
minutes he then spoke. Stuttering out his words, “I know it’s disgusting, but it is what it is.” “Now how
we gonna get out of this here, Liam. No matter what he was or what he spoke, it was comforting to hear
him speak to me.
Not knowing how to get out I just started moving. Shaking my head and still shivering, I began to
do jumping jacks. There wasn’t a way out and I was so cold. Knowing that I had to keep moving I
continued. I knew that if I didn’t move, my heart would slow and eventually stop. “You gonna listen to
that Behemoth or ya gonna try and help me find a way out?” Stopping, I once again tried looking from
the bottom. He looked for a way to climb over. Neither of us found a way to escape. Both of us,
shivering we stopped looking.
As we huddled together in the corner, a voice came from a speaker. “One hour has passed, two
hours remain.” Your lust for drugs trumps your lust to live.” “It will be your demise.” He’d seen, he’s
watching us, I thought. Not wanting to die, I began running in circles. The pain was excruciating. Every
step I took was like stepping on needles. My nose felt like it would break off.
“It’s no use, we’re gonna die, Evan said as he plopped on the ground. Using my arms, I motioned
for him to get up, but he refused. He sat in the corner with his teeth chattering and shoulders shaking.
While Evan sat, I continued. Running from one end to the other, tears freezing as they plummeted from
my eyes. As I ran, I tripped over something that caught my attention. It was a stack of a few boards
hidden under the snow. Uncovering them I counted them out in my head. There were several I dug out. I
crafted a fort in my head. We could use the wood for a shelter. Once again, I motioned for Evan to help.
Evan didn’t speak or move. “Two hours”, I heard as a voice projected from a hidden box.
Quickly I stumbled to Evan, shaking him. Tears ran down my cheeks as I faced the truth. I was
alone. Evan’s inability to try had snuffed out his life. He was dead. Time seemed to stand still in that
moment. Looking at his lifeless body, I realized he wasn’t a frail old man. He in fact was my age. The
drugs just made him look old. My sadness for him abandoned me to be replaced with anger. He should
have tried harder. I was now alone. He had left me alone.
Feeling numb and secluded, I wanted to give up. There wasn’t much fight left in me, yet
something in me snapped. I didn’t want to die. Ripping my wet clothes off, I threw them to the ground.
Trying to keep my temperature above freezing, I jumped and staggered in the snow. Laying Evan’s body
flat on the ground, I thought I would use it as a warm layer between me and the ground. One board at a
time, leaned them over Evan’s body and up against the pen, making an ominous clubhouse. Shivering
and naked, I crawled inside and laid on Evan’s lifeless body.
No longer having the strength to move, I lay crying. In the last hour I replayed my life. If only I had
another chance to do it all over again. If only I thought as my eyes closed. The door then opened, “Three
hours”. “Stand up.”, he said as he wrapped a fur coat around my frigid body. ”Come on, you have passed
but you are not out of the woods yet.” Replacing the collar around my neck he then led me back into the
barn.
“I have prepared a warm bath for you.” He then helped me lift my legs over a galvanized water
trough. “There, there”, he said, “Just sit and let the bath warm your blood. The pain of prickly needles
washed over my body as the numbness dwindled. Fading in and out, I watched him carefully remove a
stockpot from the stove. He poured the water from the pot over my head. “Just relax, you should be
proud of yourself.” “You have outlasted all who came before you.” “You’re a fighter and you value your
life. I watched as he warmed pot after pot, continuously pouring them over me.
“I will have to give you warm fluids intravenously.” “Try to stand”, he said as he lifted me up and
out of the trough. He then dried my body with a towel. After he dressed me in dry clothing, he led me to
a makeshift bedroom converted from a stall.
As he assisted me into the bed, I noticed a tray with medical instruments on it. What were they
for I wondered, but to tired to care anymore. He then placed the I.V. needle in my arm and covered me
up. “Rest up and sleep while I deal with the frostbite.” Before I was able to think about what he had just
said, I went out.
Waking up, I was no longer cold. The shivering and pain from the night before gone yet replaced
with new discomfort. My hands, feet, face, and head all pulsing. Slowly, I removed the blanket with my
bandaged hands to see my feet. Both were wrapped in bandages. Looking over my entire body, I
reached for my face. It was also bandaged. I could feel that my ears and nose were missing. “I know this
must be shocking to you, but it had to be.” “You had deep frostbite in your fingers, toes, ears and nose.
They had to be amputated. “I have sealed off the wounds and have given you antibiotics to fight off
infection.” “Be grateful your alive.”
“You are very ambitious, and I want to reward you for your success. “If you can continue to
cooperate, I will remove the stitches from your lips. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to.” “Can you give me
word that you can stay quiet?” I nodded in agreement.
As promised, he removed the sutures from my lips. Handing me a tin cup of water, he told me to
drink. Words can’t express how refreshing the first sip was. Not being able to control myself, I gulped
down the entire cup. Handing the cup back to him I managed to mumble, “more?” Violently, he struck
me in the face and stood up. “More, more more”, he yelled as he paced the floor. “Always wanting
more!” “You should have savored every last drop rather than gulping it down like a pig at a trough.”
“You have reached your third trial.” “Water is the source of all life and you will learn to appreciate it. Do
you have the desire to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.”
Locking the door behind him, he left the room. Feeling relief from his absence, I took a deep
breath. Concentrating on the air that went in and out my lungs, I was thankful to be alive. It had been a
couple of days since I was able to breathe through my mouth. I felt happiness and gratitude to just be
able to breathe. The blanket and bed kept me warm from the cold that seeped through the barn walls.
Feling relieved, I felt safe for that minute. I pulled the blanket up under my chin and just lived in the
moment. Looking for ways to escape no longer crossed my mind. Still fearful of the man, yet I felt a
strange feeling of gratitude toward him.
Mixed emotions danced around inside of me as I lay. Thinking of the others that were with me, I
pitied them. Had they truly wanted to survive, they would be alive. Had they fought harder, they would
have won against his trials. My sympathy for them abandoned my thoughts, replaced with
disappointment. Questioning my mental state, I laid wondering if I’d gone mad. How could I sympathize
with a man who had essentially tortured me. How could I be thankful to a killer, I wondered. As
comfortable as I was, I was thirsty. Three days was a long time to go without water. Knowing this, I
closed my eyes to try to sleep through it.
A familiar tune whistled through the cracks of the wall. My eyes blurry from crust, I wiped it away
with my bandaged hand. Curious, I tried peeking through a hole in a board. Seeing the two horses in the
next stall brought back anxiety from the first trial. Sounds of mumbling could be heard. Listening
intensely, I realized he had more victims. Wanting to scream out to them to calm their breathing, I said
nothing. Fearful he would kill me if I spoke. Though I didn’t have to. He was telling them to be calm and
they would live. If only they would listen, they could live. One after another perished throughout the
ordeal. Once again mixed emotions of sympathy and anger fought within me. I slammed my hand
against the stall boards. Why am I angry at them, I questioned myself. Hearing the distinct sound of the
hacksaw cutting through the bodies, I became sick. I crawled back in the bed and covered my head.
“Wake up, you have rested enough.” Leading me into the room where the bodies were, he
motioned for me to pick the parts up. “I will cut the meat and you will load it up.” “Do you
understand?”, he asked. I nodded yes and began putting the severed limbs in the wheelbarrow.
“Take it out back to the pigs.” “I trust you won’t try to run.” You will not get very far in your
condition and the weather” He was right, still bandaged and weak I knew I would freeze. Reluctantly I
put a arm, leg, and head in the wheelbarrow.
Once again, the cold made me shiver as I treaded through the snow. The night was calm. The
moon shined down on the solar panels that lined the buildings. I was on some sort of homestead.
Nearing the structure that housed the pigs, I cringed at the thought of feeding them. The squealing led
me to the hog house. Opening the door and entering, I gasped in horror. Piles of bones lay everywhere
within the house. The pigs squealed in delight as I tossed the body parts to them. The smell was pungent
and took my breath away. Not being able to hold back, I vomited the only liquids I had in me. After
unloading my delivery, I left to retrieve another load. Feet still bandaged, and I was cold, the thought of
running left my mind. Yearning for the warm bed, I trudged my way back to the barn. This went on
throughout the night.
“Almost done, this is the last of it.”, he said as he cut through a torso of a woman. “You have done
well, and I am proud of you.” “I know your cold and must be thirsty.” Yet, you still have forty-eight hours
left until you can replenish your thirst. “Keep motivated and you will triumph over your it” After the last
load was completed, he led me to the bed and rebandaged my wounds. Curiously looking down at my
severed toes, I seen I was missing five of them. The same as he bandaged my hands. I was four less
fingers. Two were gone from each hand.
My stomach grumbled as I tossed and turned. All I could think about was water and food. I
eventually passed out from the nights work. Waking up, I felt disoriented and weak. The hunger for food
and water still consuming my thoughts. “Twenty-Four hours left”, his voice said from outside the stall.
“Get up, I have more work for you.” “You have to earn your keep.”
The man then entered the room and placed the collar around my neck. “Here is a coat to keep
you warm, he said as he placed it on my back. Then he handed me some rubber boots. “These should
help keep your feet dry while you dig.” Wanting to ask, dig what, I didn’t dare from the fear of being
struck again. The task will be difficult but not impossible. Handing me a shovel, he led me to the spot he
wanted dug.
“The weather has let up and the temperature has risen. I can not trust that you might try to run.
He then locked the chain to a stake in the ground. “The hog house needs cleaned of the bones.” “Dig me
a hole big enough to bury the remains of the less fortunate.” “I will return in twenty-four hours.” You
have fared well so far, keep up the good work and you will be rewarded.” He then turned and walked
away.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and it felt warn against me face. The black sky turned to a
canvas of pastels. The view was stunning under any condition. After admiring the horizon, I started my
grueling work. Trying to dig with missing toes was difficult and excruciating. Placing the shovel into the
frozen ground, I bared down with all my weight. Breaking the ground seemed unfeasible, but I managed.
Letting out agonizing cries, I repeated the movements until I finally moved dirt.
Scanning around, my head was on a swivel looking for cameras. The thought of trying to escape
weighing heavily. Using my bandaged hands, I felt for any gaps in my collar. It was tight around my neck.
I Then looked for any weak links in the chain but found none. The steak the chain was hooked to must
have been buried ten feet, I thought as I gave it a tug. Giving up on any escape attempts, I continued to
dig.
The hunger and dehydration had started to take effect. My head pounded like a hammer on a
nail. I became nauseous. Fearing I might throw up, I sit and rested on the ground. Looking down at the
homestead, I wondered who the man was. Nearly falling asleep, I pushed myself up off the ground.
Visions of water surrounding me engulfed my every thought. God, I was thirsty.
After I finished digging the hole I fell to my knees in exhaustion. Worrying that if I fell asleep, I
would die of dehydration. Standing up, I desperately tried staying awake. The chain weighed down my
neck making it hard to stand. Using the shovel as a brace, I wedged it into the ground and balanced the
chain over top of the shovel. It lifted the weight off me, allowing me to stand easier. Standing and
swaying, I watched as day turned to night and night back to day. “Congratulations”, the man said as he
walked up the hill toward me.
“II knew you would conquer the test.” “You will soon be rewarded for your victory.” Leading me
back to the barn, I stumbled and fell. The man picked me up and helped me to my feet. As He laid me in
the bed, oddly enough I wanted to thank him. “Before I tend to your bandages, I am going to start an I.V.
to restore your electrolytes. He then handed me a cup of water. “Drink”, he said. Wanting badly to gulp
it down, I refrained and sipped slowly. The water was refreshing as it moistened my mouth. Water
wasn’t something I normally craved but, in that moment, it was all a I wanted. Living mostly on energy
drinks and sodas, I rarely drank it.
As I sipped, I thought about my body and how I had neglected it. Peculiar enough, the man was
giving me all I ever needed. He had somehow managed to push my stronger version to the surface.
“Good news”, he said as he wrapped the final bandage around my foot. “You have made it to the last
trial.” “But before we discuss that, I want to reward you on your accomplishments.” “I’m sure you have
questions, and I will allow you to ask them.” A little conversation will do us both some good.” I must say
I am as curious about you as you are of me.” He said as he poured me another cup of water. “But not
until you have rested.” “I look forward to it, I will see you this afternoon.” Locking the door behind him,
exhausted, I fell asleep.
Hunger pains interrupted my slumber. Turning about in the bed, images of food ravaged my
thoughts. Trying hard, I managed to push the vivid images of cheeseburgers out of my mind. Replacing
them with the image of the man conversing with me. What would I ask him, I pondered. Would I set him
off again and be fed to the pigs. One would think that I wouldn’t want to talk to him after he had cut off
my nose, yet strangely enough I did. I was curious about him.
My tossing about abruptly interrupted as I heard the man enter the room. “Well now, how do you
feel this afternoon?” He asked, as he pulled a old wooden chair next the bed and sat down. To scared to
speak I laid quietly. “It Is o.k., he said cheerfully as he patted my leg. “You may speak”. “Better but
hungry”, I managed to mumble. “Yes, I know you are hungry, but you have entered your final trial.” You
must endure three weeks with no food.” You have been here a week.” “Two weeks remain.”
“People of the world are gluttons. Indulging in prepackaged garbage to feed the body. Never
having to hunt or forge for it. If you make it the three weeks, you will have learned to appreciate what
you put in your mouth. You will think about what it is for, rather than just stuffing your face. Do you still
have the desire to live, for you I truly hope so.
“What is your name?”
“Liam, my names, Liam”
“Well, Liam, my names Doc” “It is finally nice to meet your true self.” I’ve been waiting along time for
this.” “You are now worthy to speak to.” “You have shed your old, infected skin and are growing new
skin.” “I have helped you thus far to create a better, you.” “You may speak freely”.
“Why are you doing this”?
“To save you.” “To rid you of the worlds temptations” “I am extracting all you have digested and
replacing it with the will to survive.”
“Who are you”, I fearfully asked.
“I am a doctor who the world cast out due to what they call negligence.” “I only pushed my patients to
better themselves and refused to subscribe fake antidotes”. “I didn’t hand them a crutch when they
could walk on their own.”” I left the city and moved off grid”. “Here I am free to practice as I see fit”.
“My patients now, are those that want to better themselves but just need a little push.” “Yet, none have
come as far as you, Liam.” “What is it, you desire, Liam?”
“A life of fulfillment”, I said.
“Are you not now, achieving that goal, Liam?”
Before I could answer, he told me, “Enough talk for the day”, we have work to do. “Don’t speak
unless I ask you to”. Unhooking my I.V., he then furnished me with warm clothes and boots again. “Grab
the wheelbarrow”, he said as we excited the barn. He then led me to the hog house. “I want you to pick
up the bones and put them in the hole you dug. Feeling weak, I pushed through the chore. The sight of
the mutilated parts wasn’t as repulsive to me as before. Yet, I did wonder who they were and where
they had come from. The day sped by quickly.
That night, I laid in the bed thinking of the man. Could he be right with what he was doing. I did
feel a new feeling of accomplishment. Had I truly shed my old self. Had he had given me what every
doctor before him had failed at. Questioning my own thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.
As the days went by, I would often help him rid the world of the weak. Every few days he would
bring in new patients. One after one they failed his trials. Some made it past the first, only to die in the
pen or the cooler, depending on the weather. We had many evening conversations where I learned
more about Doc, as he did me. Some nights I would listen to him mourn their deaths. He would often sit
by the stove talking to himself and crying. He would question their inability to understand what he was
doing. Finding myself somewhat sympathetic to him, I spoke out. “It’ll be o.k. you’re a good doctor, they
just don’t have a desire to live. “Thank you”, he said, “but do not speak unless I tell you”. With that I
climbed into bed and covered my head.
Ribs now visible, I was nearing death. No longer having the energy to help him any longer, I spent
the remaining few days in bed. As the final day approached, he came to me and said, If you don’t die
through the night, I will intravenously feed you the nutrients your body requires. Then you can truly live
your life. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled the blanket over me. You have been an outstanding and
cooperative patient and I thank you. Share to the world the gift I have given you.
Waking up, I was confused and again fighting off a sedated state. Rubbing my eyes in dismay, I
stumbled out of bed and tripped over my tennis shoes. Looking down at my disfigured feet, I was
perplexed at the sight of the floor. Continuously wiping at my vision, I scanned the room. Soda bottles
littered the nightstand. An empty potato chip bag lay empty on the bed.
Falling onto the floor, I curled up into a fetal position and cried. Visions of the dead filled my
thoughts. My mind was baffled with an emotional and ethical struggle. Four, four, four, I tried to
manage as anxiety reared its ugly head. “No!”, I yelled. I was alive and I was thriving. Quickly jumping to
my feet, I ran to my dresser mirror. It would be the first time, seeing the new me since my amputations.
Raising my head slowly my eyes met a man I had never seen before. A mangled mess stared back at me.
Yet, I didn’t see the ugly. I seen a victor. A man who fought for his life. I seen a man with the desire to
live. Admiring my new self, I calming starting whistling that familiar tune. I knew what I had to do.
The next few months, I spent talking to the detectives. Occasionally throwing them a false bone
toward their investigation. Had I not been a missing person, I would have avoided the police all
together.
A year has passed since my abduction. My life has changed for the better. I have faired well. I
often think about Doc and if he is still practicing. I did what he asked. I survive, appreciate, and share my
new gift to the world. I no longer spend my days waiting for life to toss me a crumb of its cookie. There
is value in the very air we breathe, the water we drink, the dwelling that shelters us, and the nutriment
we eat. Yet, it’s been difficult to convince people of this without some persuasion. So, please calm your
breathing. I am not going to kill you. This will only take three minutes. So, relax, do you have the desire
to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.
2024.05.15 01:16 IntelligentLibrary97 UCSB or CSULB???
Hi everyone!! SIR is tomorrow and I need to make a choice asap. I’d love some insight over this!
I was accepted to UCSB, and CSULB .
Both great schools. I applied as a political science major, but might switch to Econ!
UCSB
It’s a UC, there’s a little prestige to it.
I will be dorming as I live 2 hours away. I'm worried about not being able to find housing after my first year. How is the housing situation?
Received a 10k scholarship, that will cover my first two years of school.
I’m worried about the grading scale
More research opportunities?
Might have to pay some out of pocket
runs on quarter system, which I think I'd love, because I'm a fast paced learner, and LOVE testing on material I just learned
CSULB
Known as one of the better CSU’s
20 minute commute, although I want to try dorming my first year
I doubt I’ll pay anything out of pocket because of financial aid
Might graduate w/o debt
More of a hands on learning
Semester system... not sure how to feel about having the same class for 16 weeks.
Which school will help me succeed in the long run?
Personally, I feel like I'll thrive better at UCSB because I'll have the ability to do clubs/meet new people. basically get the full college experience.
I’m just scattered all around, and would appreciate what thoughts you guys have. Or if anyone was in my same situation, what they did, and whether they regret it or not.
submitted by IntelligentLibrary97 to UofCalifornia [link] [comments]
I was accepted to UCSB, and CSULB .
Both great schools. I applied as a political science major, but might switch to Econ!
UCSB
It’s a UC, there’s a little prestige to it.
I will be dorming as I live 2 hours away. I'm worried about not being able to find housing after my first year. How is the housing situation?
Received a 10k scholarship, that will cover my first two years of school.
I’m worried about the grading scale
More research opportunities?
Might have to pay some out of pocket
runs on quarter system, which I think I'd love, because I'm a fast paced learner, and LOVE testing on material I just learned
CSULB
Known as one of the better CSU’s
20 minute commute, although I want to try dorming my first year
I doubt I’ll pay anything out of pocket because of financial aid
Might graduate w/o debt
More of a hands on learning
Semester system... not sure how to feel about having the same class for 16 weeks.
Which school will help me succeed in the long run?
Personally, I feel like I'll thrive better at UCSB because I'll have the ability to do clubs/meet new people. basically get the full college experience.
I’m just scattered all around, and would appreciate what thoughts you guys have. Or if anyone was in my same situation, what they did, and whether they regret it or not.
2024.05.15 01:13 IntelligentLibrary97 UCSB or CSULB?
Hi everyone!! SIR is tomorrow and I need to make a choice asap. I’d love some insight over this!
I was accepted to UCSB, and CSULB .
Both great schools. I applied as a political science major, but might switch to Econ!
UCSB
It’s a UC, there’s a little prestige to it.
I will be dorming as I live 2 hours away. I'm worried about not being able to find housing after my first year. How is the housing situation?
Received a 10k scholarship, that will cover my first two years of school.
I’m worried about the grading scale
More research opportunities?
Might have to pay some out of pocket
runs on quarter system, which I think I'd love, because I'm a fast paced learner, and LOVE testing on material I just learned
CSULB
Known as one of the better CSU’s
20 minute commute, although I want to try dorming my first year
I doubt I’ll pay anything out of pocket because of financial aid
Might graduate w/o debt
More of a hands on learning
Semester system... not sure how to feel about having the same class for 16 weeks.
Which school will help me succeed in the long run?
Personally, I feel like I'll thrive better at UCSB because I'll have the ability to do clubs/meet new people. basically get the full college experience.
I’m just scattered all around, and would appreciate what thoughts you guys have. Or if anyone was in my same situation, what they did, and whether they regret it or not.
submitted by IntelligentLibrary97 to ApplyingToCollege [link] [comments]
I was accepted to UCSB, and CSULB .
Both great schools. I applied as a political science major, but might switch to Econ!
UCSB
It’s a UC, there’s a little prestige to it.
I will be dorming as I live 2 hours away. I'm worried about not being able to find housing after my first year. How is the housing situation?
Received a 10k scholarship, that will cover my first two years of school.
I’m worried about the grading scale
More research opportunities?
Might have to pay some out of pocket
runs on quarter system, which I think I'd love, because I'm a fast paced learner, and LOVE testing on material I just learned
CSULB
Known as one of the better CSU’s
20 minute commute, although I want to try dorming my first year
I doubt I’ll pay anything out of pocket because of financial aid
Might graduate w/o debt
More of a hands on learning
Semester system... not sure how to feel about having the same class for 16 weeks.
Which school will help me succeed in the long run?
Personally, I feel like I'll thrive better at UCSB because I'll have the ability to do clubs/meet new people. basically get the full college experience.
I’m just scattered all around, and would appreciate what thoughts you guys have. Or if anyone was in my same situation, what they did, and whether they regret it or not.
2024.05.15 01:13 vrhelmutt My thoughts on pizzagate
Conspiracy theories involving “elite” pedophile rings have recently been dominating social media in a disorienting frenzy. They have been around for some time but in this century rose back to popularity during the 2016 Election cycle. This crop, at least, took root with what became known as “Pizzagate.” Promoters of that conspiracy theory in 2016 used social media platforms to make unfounded but viral allegations that Hillary Clinton and other prominent Democrats were running a pedophile ring out of the basement of a pizzeria even though that restaurant had no basement, or any ties to known politicians other than the typical flesh pressing (Phrasing I know) moments fit for a picture hung on the wall. Since then, the dark theme of Pizzagate has found new life with permutations forming part of the #Qanon conspiracy theory, incorporated under the umbrella term “pedogate.” The gist of the #pedogate conspiracy theory is that global elites (politicians, celebrities, and wealthy businesspersons) are covertly involved in a far-reaching ring that uses young children for sexual purposes. “What most of these conspiracy theories involve in one way or another is laying accusations of pedophilia or involvement in pedophile rings at the feet of people that they despise or hate, and during the 16’ election cycle, Democrats were a wide target for an opposing political movement that had hijacked the rival Republican party. Pizzagate originated with the “alt right” and “alt lite,” far right extremists who range from outright white supremacists to those who publicly shun racists but otherwise fall in step with their belief systems. Pizzagate jumped from the fringes to the mainstream because as it denigrated Hillary Clinton, it sucked in supporters of then-candidate Donald Trump. After the election all mention of pedogate seemed to be put on a simmer while other National outrages boiled over (#Covid #RussiaGate #BLM) and just like clockwork (heading into our next election cycle has been turned back up. The pedogate conspiracy and all associated stories employ a centuries-old tactic: playing on deep-seated human anxieties by conjuring images of imperiled children, the purest and defenseless victim of any manner of injustice. An example in the modern era of weaponized conspiracy was the satanic panic of the 1980s, in which a wave of hysteria over alleged child molestation at daycare centers swept the nation. But while that phenomenon was a moral panic attributable, at least in part, to social anxiety over white middle class women entering the work force en masse for the first time and entrusting their children to others, the current conspiracy theories about pedophile rings equate to similar propaganda. They carry a danger for stirring up violence. If you want to elicit violent action the way to do it is through hate and fear. Once you target and label a population as pedophiles, you can do anything you like to that population with full excuse being given to the myth you’ve wrapped around it. That’s not to say fears of child abuse or sex trafficking are unfounded. There are many as pedophilia has ancient roots and in many cases was encourage by many world cultures and religions a lot later into Civilization than we’d like to admit. The International Labor Organization reports that 25 percent of the world’s 40.3 million victims of human trafficking are children. The most vulnerable, according to the National Human Trafficking Hotline, are migrants, runaways, the homeless, and youngsters who have been victims of violence. Despite their obsession over the topic, conspiracy followers aren’t worked up about those children who are in true harm’s way. In the world of propaganda, it’s never about real children. Instead, it’s about what children represent. The children imperiled by conspiracy theories, in other words, are only metaphors. Children carry a vast amount of weight in any society, but especially modern ones when they’re expected to survive past the age of five. It wasn’t as intense before the 18th century when child mortality rates were really high. They represent the future, and all that is beautiful and decent and honest in a society, because they are innocent. For most people also, the meaning of their existence is rooted in their children. Children are eschatological, they represent death for us, and what is coming behind us after we are gone. They also represent the threat of loss, if they disappear, if they die, that is the death of society. That’s why they became so crucial and central to Cold War propaganda. The real terror of the nuclear holocaust would be the death of the children, because that’s the death of everyone. A recent example of this is in a recent police investigation into conspiracy claims of PizzaGate style accusation of Portland’s Voodoo Doughnuts. Detectives attempted to contact the person accusing Voodoo Doughnuts on social media of running a pedophile ring. The accuser did not cooperate with investigators and it’s been documented in other coverage online that they had become agitated and accused the Police with complicity when tracked down in person, even though they were attempting to investigate. The pendulum of conspiracy theories about systematic child abuse has swung back and forth for centuries. Examples such as blood libel, when Jewish communities were attacked over false allegations of murdering and consuming Christian children in the Middle Ages. In Europe, During the Thirty Years War, entire villages were put to the sword because it was believed they were abusing children of the other religions. One characteristic that helps Pizzagate-style conspiracy theories gain popularity is that they function like a puzzle game and give its audience a large level of involvement through social media. A lot of conspiracy theories are oracular, where the information comes from one source an oracle. Then there are others where there are a few people who promote the notions, almost like gurus or a conspiracy priesthood. But Pizzagate, it’s more of what one would call a participatory conspiracy theory. Participatory conspiracy theories lay out a scenario or situation and then they ask their audience, ‘what more can you find out about this, what more can you add?’ It turns the audience into willing participants, some knowing they are creating a destructive madlib and other (potential real victims) caking on mystical distraction to issues that have been unreported or scars that have not bee properly treated. The thing about participatory conspiracy theories is it can really create a devoted following because it gives people something to do, it makes them feel they can solve the whole thing or uncover new aspects to it. Once you get that energy going it’s almost self-sustaining. Followers of the Qanon conspiracy theory, call themselves “bakers” because their protagonist “Q” pops up on Internet message boards and leaves “crumbs” (i.e., clues), and they are tasked with picking up the crumbs in order to solve the puzzle. (“Q” is supposed to reference the character’s government security clearance level).
#Q followers believe an even more incoherent version of Pizzagate. This is largely a right-wing fantasy that originated in a series of incoherent posts on #4chan in 2017 by someone calling themselves #QAnon. Following on the heels of similar idiocy such as Pizzagate, it advances a fantastic web of deceit that wraps up Trumpism, deep state fearmongering, evil, satanic pedophilia rings controlled by the Democratic Party, investigations into Russian meddling in the 2016 US election, the Las Vegas shooting, and New World Order paranoia into a package easily and wholeheartedly promoted by internet cesspools and far-right personalities such as Alex Jones. The premise is that President Trump is secretly working to take down a global ring of elite, cannibalistic, satanic pedophiles. And the investigation into Russian meddling into the 2016 election, led by former FBI director Robert Mueller, is actually an investigation into the so-called “deep state”, where a cabal of evil, globalists, including Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, are responsible for everything from a global pedophile ring to the mass shooting in Las Vegas in 2017. According to the enlightened, when Trump awkwardly took a drink from a bottle of Fiji water at a press conference in November 2017, it wasn’t because he was thirsty; it was actually a secret signal to those in the know that the annihilation of deep state pedophiles had begun (or was about to begin). Because as everyone knows, Fiji is a hot spot for child trafficking. ( I could go on and on with this poorly thought-out shit, I will spare you ) The role the Internet and social media play in helping to spread such insanity can’t be underestimated. Just a few decades earlier, conspiracy theorists would identify each other using letters to the editor printed in newspapers and magazines. It was a lot harder to identify your fellow conspiracy theorists. You would have to physically meet to swap your stories or send letters or call. They would set up these groups that would communicate by newsletter. They would meet in a physical space, like someone’s living room. I personally witnessed people from my childhood, dutifully photocopying newsletters they had received in the mail to give to others (Primarily at my #JW congregation, how ironic). Now obviously it can go much more quickly, because you can identity people immediately. You can quickly share ideas and the data you’ve collected. The Internet allows such people to exist in bubbles where they rarely have their beliefs challenged. The extraordinarily polarized society we’re in right now has made people less willing to seek out other view points. Because of the internet you have less chance of doing this. There’s very little incentive to look outside one’s own bubble once they have become invested in a conspiracy theory. Once you start to act out on those behaviors you are forced to double down by repeating the act to prove it was a just act. Eventually you get caught up in a movement that totally defines your conscious and you can’t get out of it. The second you step out of that world view your actions go back to being reprehensible. Now the question becomes, “What’s the harm? If it sheds light on child abuse, then isn’t it still productive?” The answer in this case is a resounding NO. In my opinion and PAINFUL experience, the root cause and sustaining factors of institutionalized child sex abuse are all things that would counter your typical Conspiracy Nut’s world view, thus causing a complete blackout to the problems. The entity taking part in the harming of children on a local and tangible level aren’t some suit and tie wearing global elitist. It’s a guidance counselor, youth pastor, unvetted young substitute teacher, aunt/uncle/cousin/neighbor. It’s anyone who has been given routine private access to a child’s mind and body because of the social conventions that have been protected for generations by our relatives whether they themselves are guilty of abuse or not. In all the Qanon madness I also kept very close tabs on the pending prosecution of the Boy scouts of America and never saw any widely shared memes about their involvement in the abuse syndicate. Why is this? How is this so? Aren’t these people watching the news, seeing the court records and hearing the individual cases being brought against Scout Leaders (SOME OF WHO RAN THEIR OWN NETWORKS!!)? When I would find mention of accusation it was met with the ever scarce “skepticism” because if the media is covering it, it must be a plot to destroy the organization. There are now non-for profit organizations setting up victim funds and protections for people to come out with their stories and somehow THIS is the fake ruse. Some that know me know that I was a Jehovah’s Witness as a youth/teen/young adult. That chapter of my life could fill many chapters and the research on the organization, the real true black and white history of the religion would honestly surprise you. I saw what I now know was abuse, I personally experienced abuse in many forms. The perpetrators involved are either still Witnesses or are dead or have moved “away from the organization”. But one thing that was left intact in each situation was the secret that they prey on children. The parents, these organizations and the collective promise to keep up appearances are directly to blame for the suffering untold thousands, millions of children and broken adults. All for what? Pride and Vanity and a commitment to all involved to protect them from the “mean old world” despite allowing predators to eat their children from within. Being a #JW was a very interesting experience. It provides a very efficient form of insulation from outside society and allows people involved to view the chaos from afar. There is this persistent (albeit false) sense of shared peace that members have. It’s as though for three days a week you go to this meeting where no matter what, everyone has a smile and feels about things EXACTLY how you do. There is no cursing, there are no politics, there surely isn’t any destructive influences that would tarnish your chances of salvation. For a parent this is a refuge when raising a child in a world that is dangerously unpredictable. A Child that you are unable (or unwilling) to teach coping skills to get along by societal standards, A child you want to protect by hiding. This is problem #1. As an adult the congregation presents an avenue for which you can act and behave in a way that allows you to reconcile your past, a way to have less of those nights awake because you think about past wrongs you’ve committed against people. It’s the proverbial band-aid for a guilty, bruised, destroyed conscious of any size. Coming into the organization takes nothing more than the desire to change, publicly declaring your willingness to hand over your life to God (The organization). Bam, You’re in! No credit check, no background check. This is problem #2. A JW is taught that “every facet is an asset” (Ministerial Servants know what I’m talking about). What this means is that every facet of your life is an asset to the organization to spread its word. If the world see’s their product’s application into your life and thereby how much better it is than a normal person’s, then they’ve made an “Effective Witness” to the world. This causes Witnesses of any age to allow almost every facet of their life to be a tool by the organization. For a parent this includes their children. This is problem #3 When you get a culture that insulates itself from the real world, that allows you to enter without any coherent vetting, give access to children whose parents feel obligated to present as a “witness” to the lifestyle. You get a twisted corridor in which victims can get lost for a lifetime and predators can hide in plain sight. For any proponents of the “Save-The-Children” movement to not take a step back and really analyze their local community and lifestyle through these lenses only illustrates that child abuse is being weaponized politically at the expense of others whom you aren’t willing to save because it would look bad for ‘your side’. If you truly care, you wouldn’t be sharing email forwards about what evil unverified unmentionable thing you read some celebrity or politician did. Instead, you’d be drawing back on your experiences as a child. Even if nothing happened directly to you, I’m sure you know some one that had an experience that forever harmed their life. Who did it? Was there a pattern or social condition that allowed for this as was laid out in the JW example? How could it have been avoided? Would you have stopped it if you saw the signs? Are you willing to stop it in the future, knowing what you know now? If you can answer any of those questions with a yes, then you have all you need to WRITE your own material to reach real victims and their families. Does your action cause problems for your ‘side’? It shouldn’t matter and you know that. If it does make a difference to you then you are no better than the shadowy pedophilic cabal that you are so obsessed with.
submitted by vrhelmutt to conspiracy [link] [comments]
#Q followers believe an even more incoherent version of Pizzagate. This is largely a right-wing fantasy that originated in a series of incoherent posts on #4chan in 2017 by someone calling themselves #QAnon. Following on the heels of similar idiocy such as Pizzagate, it advances a fantastic web of deceit that wraps up Trumpism, deep state fearmongering, evil, satanic pedophilia rings controlled by the Democratic Party, investigations into Russian meddling in the 2016 US election, the Las Vegas shooting, and New World Order paranoia into a package easily and wholeheartedly promoted by internet cesspools and far-right personalities such as Alex Jones. The premise is that President Trump is secretly working to take down a global ring of elite, cannibalistic, satanic pedophiles. And the investigation into Russian meddling into the 2016 election, led by former FBI director Robert Mueller, is actually an investigation into the so-called “deep state”, where a cabal of evil, globalists, including Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, are responsible for everything from a global pedophile ring to the mass shooting in Las Vegas in 2017. According to the enlightened, when Trump awkwardly took a drink from a bottle of Fiji water at a press conference in November 2017, it wasn’t because he was thirsty; it was actually a secret signal to those in the know that the annihilation of deep state pedophiles had begun (or was about to begin). Because as everyone knows, Fiji is a hot spot for child trafficking. ( I could go on and on with this poorly thought-out shit, I will spare you ) The role the Internet and social media play in helping to spread such insanity can’t be underestimated. Just a few decades earlier, conspiracy theorists would identify each other using letters to the editor printed in newspapers and magazines. It was a lot harder to identify your fellow conspiracy theorists. You would have to physically meet to swap your stories or send letters or call. They would set up these groups that would communicate by newsletter. They would meet in a physical space, like someone’s living room. I personally witnessed people from my childhood, dutifully photocopying newsletters they had received in the mail to give to others (Primarily at my #JW congregation, how ironic). Now obviously it can go much more quickly, because you can identity people immediately. You can quickly share ideas and the data you’ve collected. The Internet allows such people to exist in bubbles where they rarely have their beliefs challenged. The extraordinarily polarized society we’re in right now has made people less willing to seek out other view points. Because of the internet you have less chance of doing this. There’s very little incentive to look outside one’s own bubble once they have become invested in a conspiracy theory. Once you start to act out on those behaviors you are forced to double down by repeating the act to prove it was a just act. Eventually you get caught up in a movement that totally defines your conscious and you can’t get out of it. The second you step out of that world view your actions go back to being reprehensible. Now the question becomes, “What’s the harm? If it sheds light on child abuse, then isn’t it still productive?” The answer in this case is a resounding NO. In my opinion and PAINFUL experience, the root cause and sustaining factors of institutionalized child sex abuse are all things that would counter your typical Conspiracy Nut’s world view, thus causing a complete blackout to the problems. The entity taking part in the harming of children on a local and tangible level aren’t some suit and tie wearing global elitist. It’s a guidance counselor, youth pastor, unvetted young substitute teacher, aunt/uncle/cousin/neighbor. It’s anyone who has been given routine private access to a child’s mind and body because of the social conventions that have been protected for generations by our relatives whether they themselves are guilty of abuse or not. In all the Qanon madness I also kept very close tabs on the pending prosecution of the Boy scouts of America and never saw any widely shared memes about their involvement in the abuse syndicate. Why is this? How is this so? Aren’t these people watching the news, seeing the court records and hearing the individual cases being brought against Scout Leaders (SOME OF WHO RAN THEIR OWN NETWORKS!!)? When I would find mention of accusation it was met with the ever scarce “skepticism” because if the media is covering it, it must be a plot to destroy the organization. There are now non-for profit organizations setting up victim funds and protections for people to come out with their stories and somehow THIS is the fake ruse. Some that know me know that I was a Jehovah’s Witness as a youth/teen/young adult. That chapter of my life could fill many chapters and the research on the organization, the real true black and white history of the religion would honestly surprise you. I saw what I now know was abuse, I personally experienced abuse in many forms. The perpetrators involved are either still Witnesses or are dead or have moved “away from the organization”. But one thing that was left intact in each situation was the secret that they prey on children. The parents, these organizations and the collective promise to keep up appearances are directly to blame for the suffering untold thousands, millions of children and broken adults. All for what? Pride and Vanity and a commitment to all involved to protect them from the “mean old world” despite allowing predators to eat their children from within. Being a #JW was a very interesting experience. It provides a very efficient form of insulation from outside society and allows people involved to view the chaos from afar. There is this persistent (albeit false) sense of shared peace that members have. It’s as though for three days a week you go to this meeting where no matter what, everyone has a smile and feels about things EXACTLY how you do. There is no cursing, there are no politics, there surely isn’t any destructive influences that would tarnish your chances of salvation. For a parent this is a refuge when raising a child in a world that is dangerously unpredictable. A Child that you are unable (or unwilling) to teach coping skills to get along by societal standards, A child you want to protect by hiding. This is problem #1. As an adult the congregation presents an avenue for which you can act and behave in a way that allows you to reconcile your past, a way to have less of those nights awake because you think about past wrongs you’ve committed against people. It’s the proverbial band-aid for a guilty, bruised, destroyed conscious of any size. Coming into the organization takes nothing more than the desire to change, publicly declaring your willingness to hand over your life to God (The organization). Bam, You’re in! No credit check, no background check. This is problem #2. A JW is taught that “every facet is an asset” (Ministerial Servants know what I’m talking about). What this means is that every facet of your life is an asset to the organization to spread its word. If the world see’s their product’s application into your life and thereby how much better it is than a normal person’s, then they’ve made an “Effective Witness” to the world. This causes Witnesses of any age to allow almost every facet of their life to be a tool by the organization. For a parent this includes their children. This is problem #3 When you get a culture that insulates itself from the real world, that allows you to enter without any coherent vetting, give access to children whose parents feel obligated to present as a “witness” to the lifestyle. You get a twisted corridor in which victims can get lost for a lifetime and predators can hide in plain sight. For any proponents of the “Save-The-Children” movement to not take a step back and really analyze their local community and lifestyle through these lenses only illustrates that child abuse is being weaponized politically at the expense of others whom you aren’t willing to save because it would look bad for ‘your side’. If you truly care, you wouldn’t be sharing email forwards about what evil unverified unmentionable thing you read some celebrity or politician did. Instead, you’d be drawing back on your experiences as a child. Even if nothing happened directly to you, I’m sure you know some one that had an experience that forever harmed their life. Who did it? Was there a pattern or social condition that allowed for this as was laid out in the JW example? How could it have been avoided? Would you have stopped it if you saw the signs? Are you willing to stop it in the future, knowing what you know now? If you can answer any of those questions with a yes, then you have all you need to WRITE your own material to reach real victims and their families. Does your action cause problems for your ‘side’? It shouldn’t matter and you know that. If it does make a difference to you then you are no better than the shadowy pedophilic cabal that you are so obsessed with.