Hi PFC!
This may be a lengthy post so apologies in advance, just want to provide all the information.
My husband and I currently have 200,000 sitting in our chequing account from the sale of our home. We both have maxed out TFSAs (88k & 95k) invested with CIBC imperial investor service, $8,900 RESP for our toddler also cibc invested, and RRSPs 66k and 45k each also CIBC.
We own a rental bungalow free and clear and currently live rent free in my parents home while they are traveling. The plan will be for my parents to move to our bungalow in a couple years and they will sign their home over to us when the mortgage comes up for renewal at the end of 2025 (200k owing at 1.5%)
We will also be receiving an additional 150,000 from my husband's parents as a very generous belated wedding gift.
I feel like this is a stupid amount of money that we have been very fortunate to come into in such a short time and neither of us really knows what to do now that our tfsas are maxed out.
We don't have an "emergency fund" but I have an ~8k account for our rental property where all rent comes in and expenses come out and I haven't really touched it. We also have 12k in our joint account where our mortgage payments used to come out of. My husband's annual income is ~160k and I am currently making ~45k from my home business as a SAHM but may go back to work in the next few years.
.
DEBT
~5k student loan that is currently interest free.
will take on my parents mortgage ~150,000 in December 2025
I am currently in school for my master's so an additional 12k will come due over the next year and a half as well
.
.
Here are my questions:
Should we have a more formal emergency fund?
Is there a better place to invest besides just the standard bank investment services?
How can we use this money to begin to set ourselves up for retirement?
Any tips to avoid lifestyle creep? our cards are around 7k/month lately which doesn't feel sustainable. even though a lot of our expenses are "one time" costs like new wheels for the car, home insurace, furnace replacement etc.
Any other advice is welcome!

Hey all, I finally had my first reddit worthy experience; it might not be hall of fame horror but it’s packed with lesson to be learned.
Our table in question is an all adult (late 20s to mid 30s) respectfully rated R “friends only” crew. This is the story of how someone went from being in our wedding party to kicked out of our adventuring party.
Our crew: Myself, first time DM with a management day job. My spouse, Fighter, who’s a brand new player. Another married couple: Land Druid and Wizard, who generally host the game. Wizard and Land Druid have a kid who's great and only relevant for context on some of the bad behavior later. And finally our star of the hour, a Moon Druid problem player I'll be referring to as Rude Druid.
The story begins before Fighter and I were married and I had gotten into playing at a virtual 5e table with some work colleagues during the quaren-times. Once we all got our "go outside pass" I decided to try my hand at running a table. Fighter and I were not yet living together and we'd made a friend through an app who definitely had some "quirks" but was a fun hang and we had a lot of shared interests, one of which being tabletop. The three of us had discussed getting a 5e game rolling if we could fill out a party and Rude Druid previously was a "forever DM" so was excited to get into the player seat even though it would mean commuting about an hour to attend. Fighter met and made friends with land druid and then we all met at a “yard games and hang” party some time later where I and Wizard shared their interest in tabletop and boom-bam-pow a campaign is born. Various members of the group have various neural divergences as well as histories of (lets politely say) big bad events in their past that made a thorough session zero a must. We all agreed on where our lines and veils were and months of happy dice rolling ensue without issue.
Along the way there were some yellow flags:
Since two players were playing druids and crowd control (CC) became a major mechanic, the DM invested in some gridded combat tools and put significant effort into making CC a fun and valuable part of combat and would mix in “smart” enemies and “dumb” ones to allow for the druids to have their awesome moments but not completely take over every combat. Rude Druid constantly tried to break the grid rules of their AOE spells and even got in an open argument with DM who insisted they adhere to the published rules. One such disagreement ending with the classic Rude Druid: “I’d allow it at my table”DM: “We’re not at your table, we’re at my table and we’re following the grid combat rules”That should have been the end of that right? Would you believe the DM had to call out the player for attempting to break AOE rules several more times? Rude druid also used wild shape to access an area unavailable to the rest of the party, which was fine until they then went on to refuse to rejoin the rest of the party and insisted on their own little side adventure. They even refused the party directly asking the player to come back so they could play as well. Eventually the DM said “We’ll now cut back to the party, you may rejoin whenever you feel like it” and had to remind the player about the “don’t split the party” agreement discussed in session 0. Sadly the yellow flags turned crimson and led to some major boundary crossing. While DM had offered their guest room to the druid for nights they didn’t want to drive home, the expectations got out of hand. They first switched from driving to taking public transport, which was their prerogative, but then expected rides too and from the transit station during working hours. The fighter took care of the driving for a while because they worked a later shift and the two were friends. But then the schedule expanded to needed to be taken for food, expecting to go rock-climbing every time, etc etc and the DM’s “you can crash here and head out whenever” turned into an expectation of a 24 hour commitment of the Fighter being the druid’s personal entertainer and driver. Fighter actually left the game for a short time to deal with life stuff and druid tried to guilt other members into taking over the extra driving, which we all refused. Rude druid is also the most disgusting eater that I’ve ever experienced in my life and both I and another member of the party have misophonia which we’d brought up multiple times making it clear “this is extremely unpleasant for us. Please get it under control”. The sound effects got so bad the hosts had to resort to BANNING snacks from DND night because it was impossible for 2 of us to participate in the game. I promise you, it was so bad you’d have done the same.In the midst of all this DM and Fighter got married, navigated some difficult decisions on housing, moved in together, and now DM no longer had a spare room to offer. Shortly after moving in fighter had two major illnesses that included multiple trips to the hospital and the DM made it clear that the offer of a spare room was no longer on the table for obvious reasons. We all expected the druid to control their alcohol consumption and drive themselves home after the sessions. Rude druid instead invited themselves to crash at the host couple’s house and forced an extremely uncomfortable “that’s not okay, we don’t really do that”. It’s at this point that I’ll remind you that the host couple has a kid and I’ll roll the clock back to a point in time when rude druid quit their job. While telling the story included details that used explicitly violent language. We assumed it was probably hyperbole, but several of us have experienced violence in a way that makes us very not okay with what they were saying. We expressed that sentiment at the time making it clear none of us were ok of threats of violence, even if they weren’t genuine. Rude druid went on to reiterate their anger several more times at various different sessions and to this date I don’t they would have done anything violent but it was WAY over the line and NOT the kind of person you welcome into your home with a young kid. Yet they still seemed completely shocked when trying to stay over at their house was met with a hard no. And finally came the day that we all had enough and the decision was made not to invite them back. Two members of the party were in the final semester of advanced degrees on top of their full time jobs and made it known that they needed to pause the game until after finals because they didn’t have the time or mental energy to commit to the game. The DM and other player immediately understood, wished them the best, and agreed to shelf the game until after graduation. Rude druid did everything in their power to guilt them into continuing to play stating that it would be “good for their mental health” despite this player being the exact opposite of who you’d want mental health advice from. Around this same time the entire crew also attended the DMs birthday party where Rude Druid tried pressuring DM and Fighter to stay while over imbibing in various substances legal in the state this story occurs. This player had to have a pipe physically taken out of their hands and told “you have to drive home, sober up” after repeatedly helping themselves to another attendees scoobie snacks and being an outright jerk to a number of other people in attendance. We had to do a bit of an apology tour with other good friends who were rightly pissed off at various drunken selfish antics and promised that they’d never have to deal with rude druid again.
Our collective limits had been reached, all the other party members got together and unanimously agreed to 86 the player from all of our lives. I wish rude druid the best and I truly hope they can learn to ever consider anyone other than themself, but I for one will not be there to see it.
Happy ending: the players all graduated with flying colors, the game is back on, and rude druid’s character has technically become an NPC that’s “over there” but honestly won’t ever come up again. The game lives on and the rest of us are still good friends with a newly raised bar for what it takes to sit at our table.
As promised, here’s a few easy rules to live by so that you won’t ever experience rude druid’s fall from grace.

• It’s your responsibility to get safely to and from the game. If you’re driving then keep yourself sober. If you can’t handle that, then you shouldn’t consume at all.
• Don’t invite yourself to other people’s house. It’s never okay to impose like that. It’s fine to ask “would anyone be willing to have me” but remember that it’s within everyone’s right to not volunteer.
• Value other people’s time. Remember that no one owes you 24 hours of chauffeur service just because you’re unemployed and bored.
• Don’t split the party or break the rules. Optimization is fine, cheating is not. DnD is a social game and everyone, including the DM, is supposed to have fun and take turns sharing the spotlight.
• Chew with your mouth closed FFS.

Growing up my dad always had an unexplainable disdain for healthy lifestyle choices, specifically regarding food and exercise. He quit smoking when I was young, presumably for his health, but refuses to believe he has any reason to eat healthy or watch his caloric intake in any way.
When I was in my teens I got into health and fitness, I'd suggest that he try to lose weight but he'd brush it off. He'd say "I might die younger, but I'll die happier".
Fast forward 15 years, and he's certainly not living a happier life. He's heavier than ever and suffering for it. I'm with him for my sister's wedding. I'm currently 32 and haven't lived with him in about a decade and just don't see how much he has to struggle through his daily life. Every time he gets into a car seat he has to shuffle his body, huffing and puffing all the way. He's winded after walking a few blocks or a single flight of stairs. We had to replace his suit pants for the wedding last minute because he gained so much weight since he got his suit tailored last year that they didn't fit him anymore.
He wheezes constantly, he can barely even breathe doing basic activities. He's considering getting a mobility scooter but I feel like that'll make things even worse. I see him huff for breath every time he moves. Just sitting down makes him wheeze. And why? All because of his weight. I don't want to tell my dad what to do but it's so infuriating to me. He tells me that at 57 he's too old to worry about being attractive to women and won't lose weight for that, he assures me that he's "happier" being able to eat whatever and is glad he isn't finicky about his food like "those health nuts".
I can't take it. I can't take seeing him like this. He needs constant assistance to move any further than the length of his own living room. He waddles when he walks, he struggles on and off the toilet. He constantly fights for breath and makes strange offputting noises I've never heard him make before. He is constantly battling his own body to barely function. I know he's going to die if he carries on like this. It's breaking my heart but I don't know what to tell him.

Growing up my dad always had an unexplainable disdain for healthy lifestyle choices, specifically regarding food and exercise. He quit smoking when I was young, presumably for his health, but refuses to believe he has any reason to eat healthy or watch his caloric intake in any way.
When I was in my teens I got into health and fitness, I'd suggest that he try to lose weight but he'd brush it off. He'd say "I might die younger, but I'll die happier".
Fast forward 15 years, and he's certainly not living a happier life. He's heavier than ever and suffering for it. I'm with him for my sister's wedding. I'm currently 32 and haven't lived with him in about a decade and just don't see how much he has to struggle through his daily life. Every time he gets into a car seat he has to shuffle his body, huffing and puffing all the way. He's winded after walking a few blocks or a single flight of stairs. We had to replace his suit pants for the wedding last minute because he gained so much weight since he got his suit tailored last year that they didn't fit him anymore.
He wheezes constantly, he can't even breathe. He's considering getting a mobility scooter but I feel like that'll make things even worse. I see him huff for breath every time he sits down. Just sitting down makes him wheeze. And why? All because of his weight. I don't want to tell my dad what to do but it's so infuriating to me. He tells me that at 57 he's too old to worry about being attractive to women and won't lose weight for that, he assures me that he's "happier" being able to eat whatever and is glad he isn't finicky about his food like "those health nuts".
I can't take it. I can't take seeing him like this. He needs constant assistance. He waddles when he walks, he struggles on and off the toilet. I know he's going to die if he carries on like this. It's breaking my heart but I don't know what to tell him.

Son 8.5 M, 45 lbs has abdominal pain since February. He doesn't go to school and stays in bed most of the time. It happened before but not as severe and went away after a month or so. We realize we need to wait longer for Amitripltyne to work but we are concened that he has rear good days (hours) and in bed most of the time. Normally he is a bright, fun and social boy and now doesn't leave his bed. Could this be something not tested for?
Current Outpatient Medications
famotidine 40 MG/5ML Recon susp - Take 2 mL (16 mg) by mouth at bedtime
gabapentin (Neurontin) 250 MG/5ML Solution Take 3 mL (150 mg) by mouth twice a day

hyoscyamine 0.125 MG Tab - does not help

amitriptyline 10 mg Tab - full dosage started May 2nd, makes him agressive

Medical History Summary:
8.5 years old has been constipating for many years. He has been diagnosed with encopresis in 2021. Ever since he was diagnosed with encopresis He was on MiraLAX .5 to .75 cup twice a day. This helped him to control his constipation. During all this time except for approximately a few weeks he was soiling his pants almost daily. He was also frequently complaining about abdominal pain. Per doctor’s recommendation we were reminding him to sit on the toilet after each meal. Feeding him with homemade meals and we try to limit processed food. We did physical therapy and psychologist therapy. He has a toilet foot stool and seat.
About 1 year ago (January 2023), a bowel cleanup was performed per Max’s pediatrician recommendations. One cupful of MiraLAX was given every 3 hours. (No fasting or clear food diet was recommended)
During that time evacuated lots of poops with diarrhea content. We did not achieve the yellow fluid and stopped after a couple of days. Since this cleanup Max experienced severe abdominal pain for about a month.
Per GI doctor recommendation, we were no longer doing cleanup to avoid severe abdominal pain. Instead, Max was back on his MiraLAX dose .75 cup twice a day with fiber gummies 4mg a day.
He has good apetite most of the time, except after a dose of Exlax. His stool was always help soft over these years.
Notes from GI visit April 22nd - Today he has more guarding, mild distension and tenderness. I can't tell if he has a surgical abdomen (ie volvulus, appendicitis) but it is not associated with vomiting or eating. His most likely diagnosis is abdominal migraines (abdominal pain and headaches) and anxiety at this point, but the pattern has been consistent without as much good days. Activity makes him worse, and we have considered ACNES as well. He has had multiple cleanouts, and the periodic soiling could be from inattentiveness. Perhaps this is from constipation, but should rule out surgical abdomen at this time. We had a long conversation today about abdominal migraines, but upon repeat exam, it is still quite guarded. Pain is daily / off and on. Has had 2 good days in last 3 weeks Appetite is good except when pain is high. No vomiting. Stooling daily with miralax. Sleeping well.
UPPER Endoscopy Diagnosis
A. Duodenum, mucosal biopsy:- Duodenal mucosa with no pathologic change. B. Duodenum, bulb, mucosal biopsy:- Duodenal mucosa with a small lamina propria lymphoid aggregate. C. Stomach, antrum/body, mucosal biopsy: - Antral-and oxyntic-type gastric mucosa with focal features of mild reactive (chemical) gastropathy. D. Esophagus, distal, mucosal biopsy: - Squamous epithelium with rare intraepithelial eosinophils (up to 2 per high-power field). E. Esophagus, proximal, mucosal biopsy:- Squamous epithelium with rare intraepithelial eosinophils (up to 1 per high-power field).
The overall findings are nonspecific. The esophageal findings do not meet threshold numerical criteria for a diagnosis of eosinophilic esophagitis. Reflux related changes are favored. Clinical correlation is recommended.

CT ABDOMEN PELVIS W CONTRAST

Narrative

IMPRESSION:Normal appendix. No CT evidence of inflammatory changes in the abdomen or pelvis. Moderate stool burden in the colon.NarrativeINDICATION: o appendicitis/abscess - GI requesting CT d/t guarding/distensionEXAMINATION: CT ABDOMEN AND PELVIS WITH CONTRAST - CT Abdomen And Pelvis W/ Contrast InjectionTECHNIQUE: Multiple axial images were obtained of the abdomen and pelvis following IV contrast. A radiation dose optimizationtechnique was used for this scan. DLP: 29.8 , CTDI vol: 0.63IV Contrast dosage and agent: 63 mL of Isovue 300Oral contrast: Administered.COMPARISON: None.____________________________________________FINDINGS:LOWER CHEST: Lung bases are clear without any infiltrate. No pleural effusion noted. There is no cardiomegaly or pericardialeffusion.LIVER: The liver has a homogeneous density. No focal masses noted. There is no intrahepatic biliary ductal dilatation.GALLBLADDER AND BILIARY TREE: No calcified gallstones. No gallbladder distension or wall edema. No intra- or extrahepaticbiliary ductal dilation.PANCREAS: No focal cystic or solid mass. There is no pancreatic ductal dilatation or peripancreatic fluid.SPLEEN: Normal size without focal cystic or solid mass.ADRENAL GLANDS: Normal.KIDNEYS AND URETERS: Both kidneys have a normal enhancement without hydronephrosis, renal cysts, masses or perinephric fluid.There is no hydroureter.PERITONEUM: No ascites or free air. No other fluid collection.BOWEL: No abnormal dilatation of the bowel loops is noted. Contrast is noted in several nondilated small bowel loops and in thecolon up to the splenic flexure. Moderate stool noted in the colon, including the rectum. Terminal ileum is visualized andappears normal. A normal caliber partially contrast filled appendix is seen in the right lower quadrant. A few scattered foci ofair also noted in the appendix. No adjacent inflammatory changes are seen. The appendix is best visualized on axial series #2,images 58-69/139.LYMPH NODES: No enlarged mesenteric or retroperitoneal lymph nodes.VESSELS: Vasculature appears normal. No stenosis or aneurysmal dilatation noted.URINARY BLADDER: Appears normal without wall thickening, mass or trabeculations.REPRODUCTIVE ORGANS: No pelvic masses.ABDOMINAL WALL: No discrete abdominal or pelvic wall hernia.BONES: No lytic or blastic abnormality.
Blood tests - Collection date: April 30, 2024 11:08 AM
Lactase 13.9 Normal value: >=14.0 nmol/min/mg Prot
Sucrase 51.0 Normal value: >=19.0 nmol/min/mg Prot
Maltase 201.3 Normal value: >=70.0 nmol/min/mg Prot
Palatinase 15.8 Normal value: >=6.0 nmol/min/mg Prot
Glucoamylase 24.2 Normal value: >=8.0 nmol/min/mg Prot

Sed Rate 9

Ferritin 24.7

C-Reactive Protein < .5

Lead, Venous, B <.1

White Blood Count 5.98

Hemoglobin 14.7

Mean Cell Volume 81.8

MCHC 34.5

Platelet Count 302

Red Blood Count 5.21

Hematocrit 42.6

MCH 28.2

RDW 12.4

MPV 8.8

Segmented Neutrophils (ABS #) 2.35

Final Absolute Neutrophil Count 2.35

Lymphocytes (ABS #) 3.8

Eosinophils (ABS #) 0.05

Immature Granulocytes (ABS #) 0

Monocytes (ABS #) .47

Basophils (ABS #) .03

Add: he has headaches on the right side and sensativity to light, not sure how often but at least several times a week.

I'm struggling. My flair says reconciling, but it's on a low arc and approaching failure. Or maybe it's still false. I don't know.
Married 19 years, together for 25; two teenage children with severe emotional problems coming out of the pandemic.
D-Day was 16 months ago, the night before Thanksgiving. AP was literally an alcoholic unemployed late 40-something living in his mom's basement. They had met at a funeral she hadn't bothered to ask me to go because I wasn't leaving the bed in those days and I'd have said no. The night I discovered his clingy, mooning texts lamenting their inability to spend the holiday together, my life - already a terrible, depressive, lonely black hole of a mess and following the sudden, unnecessary death of a parent on Christmas Day - just imploded.
Upon confrontation after Thanksgiving dinner, the response was the worst in all ways possible. WW was high on limerence, and was fiercely unapologetic. She didn't want to separate but demanded an open marriage. She 'deserved to be happy', and felt good about her having told this unplanned encounter that went from EA to PA in 72 hours that she'd never leave me.
She had eschewed having intimacy for years before this. We had been poor to each other over the years, but I fell off a cliff after our kids faded from the world and my parent died. She was legit shocked and belligerent when I refused, and said that if you pursue this I will have to leave.
We made some temporary agreements (ones she did not keep), and started seeing a counselor. I started IC for the first time in my middle-aged life. We were however 'not aligned', as she'd say. She didnt want to give up her boyfriend, and I refused to stay if he was in the picture. I cringe to think back to how I said, 'you can maintain a friendship if you absolutely must but you must reinvest back into working on our relationship'.
This was a no-go for her for a while. She'd meet him. He'd sleep in her place of business. SHe lent him our car. (He crashed it while drunk, btw.) There was a moment when I had the kids in Puerto Rico, and she returned early for a funeral, and she went to the funeral with him and probably had sex after. Meanwhile I was stuck in an airport, trying to get home after a cancelled flight and just threw lots of money at the problem to curtail the time she had with him. She had in the three month relationship began introducing him to family friends, people who knew me.
With someone living a state away, she somehow managed to squeeze in more sex in 3 months than we'd had together in 10 years. In my mind, she was working on replacing me with AP but didn't want to separate for the sake of our kids.
Come January, she claimed to have decided to break things off. I didn't really believe her. I made a surprise visit to her place of business on a weekend, and found him there asleep on the couch with no pants on.
We had words, and despite being beside myself with rage and grief I was able to take his measure. In many ways, I wish I had met him right after D-Day. It was clear he was a narcissistic dumpster fire with pretensions of intellectuality. There were signs of some bipolar behavior. He made clear his intentions was to stay, and to convince WW to leave me. And he still had our car, and keys to her business site. (We live in a large city and don't need multiple vehicles, or even the one car if I'm honest.)
She realized where I was going due to my phone location and ran after me, but got there after I had 15 minutes with the joker. She asked him to leave, but still let him keep our car. She had no words, which has been a theme throughout our marriage. She can't easily access her feelings or articulate them, and she's afraid to express them for fear of my response. I told her after having met him, noted his instability and his intentions, i said I can no longer accept any contact between them. She reluctantly agreed.
From mid-January through to August followed a sequence of false representation of wanting to work on reconciliation and cycles of lying about not having contact. She was in love with him, she claimed, but seemed to go cold turkey overnight. She neither engaged with me nor took steps to reconcile, but claimed how difficult it was and that she was working on our relationship.
We quit the MC we started to see. We eventually found another several months later. We're still with the 2nd MC. In the meantime began a kind of surreal hellscape life for me, as she would say the barest of minimum things, and usually nothing at all about where she was, how she felt, and what was she willing to do to rebuild our relationship. She took no steps to reassure me, or show she wants me. She would say she did, but simultaneously be cold, distant, and - as i soon discovered - was still in contact with AP.
He gave her a burner phone. I found it within 2 days and threw the brand new phone into the river. Cheaters really need to not let unknown devices onto the home wifi networks of the technically literate. We had it out again, she promised to really try. A few weeks later I found unusual call patterns in our cell account. AP had provisioned a new phone number. Following that blow up was the WhatsApp phase, which really began to take the wind out of my sails.
She expressed no remorse. She was resentful of my 'intrusions into her privacy'. She genuinely thought it would be comforting to hear that the affair had nothing to do with me. She would be visibly annoyed when I asked for confirmations there had been no new contact - and even more so when in retrospect when there had been.
There were at least five discrete cycles of deception. AP escalated by getting five phone numbers and cycling through them. Towards the end, she had hid these numbers as secondary numbers of people they knew in common but didn't regularly have contact with. AP would write texts from the perspective of different personae.
Then there were the people who knew, and of those there were people who fully supported her behavior. There were people who aided and abetted it, lending her their apartments, or hoping she finds some comfort. One particularly egregious one, early on, tried to convince Amanda to really try to convince me to find someone else to be happy in an open arrangement. She's still in regular contact with this person.
The culmination of the PA/EA with the AP happened last summer. He eventually returned the car, but only after he had reclaimed it from the police impound lot. He did not pay for the repairs. Or his tolls when coming to and fro to fuck my WW. I did.
I had been fairly successful in identifying his phone numbers and having them blocked at the carrier level with some gaps in time, and diverting his email and voicemail. During ths period where all his means of contact were being closed soon after being opened, he was starting to rage and unstable. WW upon the latest confrontation (i was pretty calm and matter of fact about it) admitted she could not control her behavior, and didn't understand why she was doing it.
AP was a controlling person, with hints of WW's clinically narcissist parent. He wrote a letter and entered her business after hours to leave it. Because he wrote an email saying he was doing this, I ill-advisedly went there to call the police on him. I didn't find him, but I did find the letter. He knew I had been there - either he had been outside or he went back after I left - and complained bitterly about my interference.
His only means of influence had dropped to emails, and he just kept pounding with the short, imperative statements that described outcomes favorable to him. He had started to convince her that I was a threat to her, and trying to convince her I was a threat to our children (for whom I'd die in fire every day).
His tactical error was trying to play up his inability to contact her as a screen for concern. He tried to get the cops to perform a wellness check. He called WW's sister to convince her I was a threat, and that WW was in danger. (She told him off.)
Finally, he threatened to show up at our door with friends and 'free' her. I knew he owned a shotgun; while I didn't actually think he would show up (he had made smaller-scale threats of this kind before and I only realized they had happened days after his 'deadlines'.) I shared this new development with WW. We had agreed to handle it together. However, while I was out one day, she went to her sister's and called him to tell him she was fine but to never call or contact anyone in our family again. It was a muted, brief exchange. I was angry she hadn't stuck to our agreement.
Since then, he's only made a handful of contact attempts soon after the break that really were more for insulting me. I believe on an intellectual level they have had no contact since last summer. I emotionally continue to not feel safe about her intentions.
Since then, it's been difficult. There have been very limited conversation coming from her outside of the MC sessions, and those have trended light on her content. Very recently, she's expressed more. But it's still seemingly grounded in some unhealthy premises. Amongst them:

1. She at one pointed expressed she regretted the pain she caused, but doesn't regret the experience because (I kid you not) 'she learned so much about herself' and 'many positive elements have come out of it'. (I lost 50 pounds in the first three months post-Dday, and lately I've been hovering around 70. I did have it to lose, having used food to soothe myself over the decade of gaslighting and lack of explanation for her disengagement, and unwillingness to work on it.)
2. She continues to resent my intrusion into her phone call history. She disagrees with the oft-raised best practice of open-phone/account policies. Her feelings around her lack of privacy unsettle her, and get in the way of engaging (she says).
3. she doesn't see the value in 'forcing closeness'
4. she keeps wanting me to 'ratchet it down a notch', but it's not clear what she thinks that means
5. she finds my sadness and pain to be an impediment to rebuilding closeness
6. She claims to have read content about rebuilding marriages after infidelity, but to my knowledge she's done hardly anything to rebuild trust. I said it'd be better if you hadn't read it, because to think that you're walking around having read it but still don't do anything feels worse.
7. She has not taken lead in the reconciliation process, or really done much except endure my periodic/every-2-weeks or so expressions of disappointment and hurt and anger

I'm sure no one has read this far. This is my dilemma. What I'm trying to do here is leave no stone unturned in my efforts to save our marriage. I want to sleep well at night, and I won't be able to do that in a healthy way without going through this.
Yesterday wa the first time she said that he was responsible for destroying my world and my brain, several times over, with the elaborate deceptions (as I'm prone to describing it). I welcomed it and thanked her. But it was only precipitated by a conflict we were having about a mistake I made, where I rubbed her face in my phone snooping by adding unflattering profile pictures to the blocked contacts for the AP. (If they're not there, he could still call her and leave a voicemail when she's on wifi.)
She has had low to middling chronic health issues since April of last year, following her second round with COVID. And if it's not her, it's her parents. Or my surviving parent. Or my brother almost dying. Or the DOL is threatening to reclassify all her contractors as employees. (They should.) Everything just magically seemed to be prioritized over her talking to me.
It's literally, literally been something every other week. She's always tired, always in pain, and I really try hard to stay empathic about it. To hold a space for her. I have taken care of her when she's ill all throughout this horrible time. And she's really appreciative of how well I've supported and cared for her with no promise or signs of reciprocation.
But she still won't have sex with me, and wont talk to me about why she flinches sometimes when I touch her. Or worse, she fakes interest and then I find out otherwise later. Clearly, we have trauma to work through from before the affair. She's not intentionally being cruel. I've expressed remorse over what little she has hinted at, and want to make amends. I love her so much. It's always been my intent to die married to her, and hold our family together.
But it's getting harder to hold onto that empathy. I'm just so tired of feeling hurt, of not having my needs met, and feeling so deeply disrespected in this low-contrition (but maybe trending up) context we're living through.
She seems to evoke a sense in me that everytime I am hurt or express anger, her willingness or energy resets to near zero. Which in and of itself is newly infuriating!
My dilemma is that part of my tenacity in this ridiculous situation that saints would have left three times over already is tied to the idea that by sticking with it and not making it 'easier' for her I'm upholding my self-respect.
But am i? Am I just punishing her by saying I can't let go of my pain until she demonstrates remorse and effort? Being married, a husband and a father of simple small family is a big part of my identity.
It all went to shit a long time ago, but I never checked out. I just didn't understand what was happening, how a wife could treat their partner this way, and I didn't have the maturity or the emotional language to navigate it alone. So I grew resentful and depressed, and just low-level angry all the time. While she would just smile, and say nothing. In public, she'd be affectionate.
In private, it'd be back turned and motionless to my hunger for connection (and release). I turned inward. She, a very social, community-building gem of a human being, checked out and switched to Potemkin mode whenever anyone was looking. I felt like I was constantly being gaslit. Even when I tried to talk about our problems, she'd act as if I had said nothing at all. It was the damnest thing, and I had no words for it.
Maybe she's starting to see the light and be empathic to my pain. But, if that's what's happening, I'm just running out of steam and hope. Hope isn't necessary for me to stay the course, but motivation is beginning to lag.
Any advice?

It's time for our first look at life on Earth! I hope everyone has been enjoying the story so far. As always, let me know your thoughts on the story so far. It's been a joy sharing it with you all.
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Memory transcription subject: UN Secretary-General Elias Meier Date [standardized human time]: July 13, 2136
Sometimes I wondered what Earth would be like had the Skalgans not landed here hundreds of years ago. Every UN summit these days seemed to involve settling some kind of dispute involving them. Whether it be accusations of resource theft, threats in response to those accusations, or disputes over succession, there was always something to resolve. There was rarely any actual conflict that occurred nowadays, but security had been required to break up a few squabbles in the past, often ones involving delegates charging each other.
Despite how rowdy they could be, they were stalwart allies. That stubbornness made them dependable to follow through with their alliances. Whether it was war, work, or simply having a dependable friend, it was hard to go wrong with them. They proved themselves early on in the history of their arrival.
I reminded myself of that as I listened to the leader of the Garian nation petitioning other nations for aid in their efforts to assemble yet another space shipyard. I was certain we had more than enough, but the Garian leader wouldn’t have anything less than ‘overwhelming force against potential threats’. An aspect of Skalgan culture that carried on since their arrival was their concern over the calamity that had brought them to Earth appearing once more from the heavens. It’d created a divide among the people, from those that felt we should isolate ourselves from the wider galaxy, to those that felt we should either find allies or track down this great threat to eliminate it. The exploratory mission we’ve sent out has certainly riled up the xenophobes, who felt we needed to prepare a grand fleet if we were gonna announce ourselves to the galactic stage.
An aid came and tapped me on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. “Sir.” She whispered. “I need you to come with me.”
If I was being called away, then it must have been an emergency. Nodding, I stood and followed here, my security detail trailing behind. We were only just walking up to the briefing room doors when I started hearing a very loud conversation. “-could be them! We need to start assembling ships immediately in case they-” I open the doors, interrupting whoever it was that was shouting. Scanning the room quickly, I saw that most of the people assembled were from several different space agencies, though there were also individuals from historical institutes and national militaries.
“Right, might I ask what has folks so riled up?” I asked.“The Odyssey crew made contact with extraterrestrials.” A short-haired woman in a leather jacket said, passing me a folder. I managed to catch her nametag, which read Dr. Kuemper, SETI. “They call themselves the Venlil, and going by appearances alone, seem to be related to the Skalgan. Not only that, but they’re a part of a Federation of hundreds of other species. Certainly more than we ever theorized.”
This news came as a shock. I flipped through the various pages and photos in the folder, taking in everything that's been gathered so far. There was a photo of one of the Skalgan astronauts next to a Venlil. Side by side, it was easy to see how one could assume they shared a similar lineage, despite some of their physical differences. If these were truly aliens related to the Skalgan, then their kind has survived the attack on their homeworld or at least escaped to a separate planet.
We’ve known that life existed at some point beyond our star system, but that was only known through the existence of the Skalgan. Even then, the nature of their origin took generations to fully understand. They crashed on earth during an age where we were still using muskets, a time when we didn’t even have a concept of electricity. They may have brought a technological boost with them, but without the means to reproduce or maintain it, much had deteriorated away, and that included the electronic data their ship carried. For all we knew, the Skalgan and their attackers were the only other life in the galaxy. They may have even gone extinct in the time it took us to achieve FTL flight.
“So we might have ourselves the Skalgan home planet and their long lost cousins. I hope that the presence of so many generals in this meeting isn’t a suggestion to invade.” I looked over all the individuals in military attire that were present.
Dr. Kuemper frowned. “The issue isn’t with the Venlil. It’s the Federation and their enemies. It’s a complicated mess. To start, the Federation is made up entirely of herbivores who are extremely xenophobic towards any meat consuming species.”
I look back down at the folder, leafing to a page about the Venlil society. It only took me a moment to spot the bold letters highlighting the fear and distrust they have towards, as they label them, predatory species. “Well, we must have done something right if we got far enough to exchange knowledge.”
“You can thank us for being there.” One of the Skalgan in the room spoke up, a general by the name of Ledric from the nation Rerig that sat on the western coast of North America. “The fact that we had a Skalgan among the crew made it easier for the Venlil to accept the human. They may have just shot the ship down had astronaut Noah not been there, or taken them prisoner, or done all sorts of horrible things!”
“I think it would be best if we did not worry about the what-ifs and instead think about the now.” I said, finally taking a seat at the table. “So the Skalgan look-alikes have a fear of meat eaters. Does this extend to the rest of their federation?”
“I’m afraid so.” The doctor said. “It seems like it’s actually a founding pillar of the Federation’s doctrine. The Arxur, the enemies of the federation, have been on a campaign of terror against them for several centuries. They’re responsible for the destruction of at least 62 planets and billions of lives.”
“Jesus Christ, please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I wish, sir. There’s a full brief on the page labeled ‘Arxur’ in your file. There’s also footage of them committing every war crime in the book. I mean, they literally eat children.”
“Well shit.” I sighed, barely having a moment to think before the Rerig general Ledric spoke up again. “These monsters eat sentient beings and keep people as livestock! They have to be the ones responsible for the original attack on our homeworld. It makes sense that the ‘wrath of the galaxy’ told in Skalgan mythos refers to them.”
“Can we be certain?” I asked Ledric. “I don’t doubt that this species is monstrous in nature, but I don’t know if any of the original records from the ships you arrived in have survived to this day to confirm that.”
“You’re right about that.” Another Skalgan spoke up, a historian from Rerig. “Surviving records are little more than fragments at best. Even electronic records can’t survive the decay that hundreds of years of time would bring. Without the proper understanding of how to properly preserve digital records, they broke down into little more than scrap metal over the centuries. We have no idea who those ships originally belonged to, where they came from, or how my people got ahold of them. Hell, we don’t even know if it was one or multiple species responsible for the attack on Skalga.”
I lightly nodded, thinking about the possible explanations. “What about the Federation? How do they play into this?”
“According to the records the Venlil provided, they had only just made initial contact with the Federation around the time the Skalgan landed on Earth.” Dr. Kuemper said. “It's a bit difficult to line up our timelines without exact dates. At best we can estimate by about a decade or so. It’s possible that the Skalgan acquired ships from the Federation. There’s also the possibility that the ships were Arxur cattle vessels that they managed to commandeer. There is also the possibility of an unknown group being involved, but so far there’s no evidence of that.”
There were a lot of hypotheticals being given, but no solid narrative so far. “I’d rather not make any major decisions till we know for certain what we’re dealing with. There’s also the matter of these physical differences between the Skalgan and Venlil, and the matter of the Federation's potential hostility to us humans. Are they aware of us?”
“Not yet.” Dr. Kuemper said. “Only the Venlil know of humans. The Federation only knows of the Skalgan for now.”
“Right… Well if they’re as hostile towards meat eaters as this report leads us to believe, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to break the news to them gently.”
“Why should we bother?” Ledric asked. “If the Federation was there when Skalga was attacked yet did nothing, why should we even try being friendly? Do they fear the Arxur so much that they wouldn’t intervene?”
“We shouldn’t be making assumptions like that.” I said. “We don’t know what happened all those centuries ago, and the last thing we want is to go accusing people of wrongdoings that they didn’t commit. I’d rather we make allies than enemies. And speaking of such matters, I believe the Venlil will be a good place to start. Their governor was willing to risk her position to keep us hidden. She and her people may be able to speak on our behalf, and their potential ties to Skalgan may further secure their trust. Not to mention that our best chance of learning about the origin of the Skalgan race would be in cooperation with them.”
“What of the Arxur?” Ledric spoke once more. “They’re clearly a threat to both their Federation and us. We should strike some of these livestock worlds as a show of our allegiance with the Venlil. That would also show this Federation that humans are an ally.”
I grimaced. We'd only just discovered life beyond our system and already we were talking war. Announcing a potential war with extraterrestrials would cause the divide between those for and against alien contact to widen even further. However, we couldn’t share the potential discovery of the Skalgan’s ancestors without including the threat that not just the Arxur posed, but the danger humans would be in if we made a mistake with introducing ourselves to the Federation. This whole situation was a minefield, and we were having to carefully pick our way through it.
“Lets start by releasing the findings and then judge our next course of action based on the public’s feedback. We need to be united on whatever decision we make, as this will affect all of us, both Humans and Skalgans. If the people just want to make allies, that’s what we’ll do. But if they want us to show we’re willing to fight for the Venlil and the Federation, then we’ll fight.”
An outside threat and long lost family would be powerful motivators to bring people together. I was fairly certain I knew already what the Skalgan’s position on this would be, but they weren’t on the potential firing line for their biology.
[First] [Previous] [Next]

**Name and House:** Beatrice Massey
**Age:** 27
**Cultural Group:** Crownlander
**Appearance:** She has curly brown hair she always keeps tied up, and dark brown eyes. She has plain features and dresses modestly and is of an average height with a pudgy build. She always has dark circles beneath her eyes. Despite her and her brother’s partial Valyrian heritage, they both take strongly after their father’s family.
**Trait:** Steward
**Skill(s):** Administrator (e), Investor (e), Avaricious
**Talent(s):** Language: High Valyrian, History, Geography
**Negative Trait(s):** N/A
**Starting Title(s):** Steward of Stonedance
**Starting Location:** The Hunt

AC
**Name and House:** Arthur Massey
**Age:** 30
**Cultural Group:** Crownlander
**Appearance:** He has thin, straight features with a squared jaw and stubble, with curled brown hair and dark eyes. He stands a modest height with broad shoulders and slim build.
**Trait:** Ruthless
**Skill(s):** Rumourmonger(e), Devious
**Talent(s):** Drinking, Card Games, Sleight of Hand
**Negative Trait(s):** N/A
**Starting Title(s):** Heir of Stonedance
**Starting Location:** The Hunt


Biography

House Massey, along with many neighbouring houses, were quick to join Aegon’s cause and pledge their support during his conquest. Coren Massey, the Lord, had wed a Valyrian woman named Alysanne Belaerys, and had two children by her.
Beatrice was only two years old, and her brother only a boy of five when the Conquest began. Their father and uncle would ride out with their armies to support his cause and would find themselves roosting in his court for the next few years and assisting the construction of King’s Landing. It wouldn’t be until after Aegon’s assassination that her uncle, Triston Massey would take over as Master of Laws.
Tragedy would strike the Massey’s during the Kingswood Hunt, where Triston would fall victim to the attacks by the bandits and would perish.
Coren Massey, her father, would spend much time in King’s Landing, constantly seeking—and failing to secure his brother’s position as Master of Laws. Arthur would spend much time in the new capital as well, though not in court. He would carouse the town, often spending times with other lords and ladies of a similar age, hosting parties or tavern crawls, or hunting expeditions. He established a network of contacts and conversationalists throughout the years there, a gossip-mill that he could turn to his own ends—amongst nobility and smallfolk alike.
Beatrice’s story was much different. As her father and brother left Stonedance to seek greener pastures, much of it resided on her. When she grew up, her family had secured tutors to teach her and her brother skills of administration and governance—though Arthur never took to them, often skipping out on his lessons. Beatrice on the other hand made it her life’s work, studying a variety of subjects. One gift her mother had given her was a tutor from Essos, to teach her the Valyrian tongue both for eventual use in court, and to connect with that part of her heritage.
When she turned ten and seven, she began to take in children from around the Crownlands and a few from lands beyond that, offering to teach them in various disciplines such as arithmetic, history, geography, calligraphy, and literature. This, combined with her duties of running and managing Stonedance, kept her busy and rarely leaving the hold, while her brother, the heir, caroused through life.
At twenty, she was arranged to marry Dorin Sunglass, however the betrothal fell through when he married another—to her relief.
Arthur would sire several bastards, that she would keep track of and it became her responsibility to care for the mother’s left behind and the children he wanted nothing to do with. A cook, a maid, a sailor—Beatrice kept track of them as they came to Stonedance with their children in their arms, offering them gold and a place in the village. Most notably was his fling with Perra Bracken—while the Blackwood’s and Bracken’s geared for war, the two had a tryst in King’s Landing which resulted in a child, Arina. Taken back to Stonedance to raise, Beatrice would tutor her and send letters of progress to Perra, but otherwise both of the parents of the bastard would be uninvolved.

Archetype NPCs

Magnate – Laisa Chyttering
Trader – Evelyne Follard


Family Tree

Coren Massey, Head of House (56)
Alysanne Belaerys (57)
Triston Massey, Uncle – Deceased
Arthur Massey – Brother (30)
- 4 bastards (Calla, Primrose, Roan, Arina)
Beatrice Massey (27)

https://www.familyecho.com/?p=START&c=jx4tc3o73z2l582z&f=703439927850474756

Timeline

1 AC – House Massey is of the first to support Aegon’s Conquest, Coren and Triston, brothers, fight at the Dragonlord’s side to Conqueror Westeros and swear fealty
5 AC – Beatrice begins her studies from tutors acquired by her father from Westeros and beyond.
8 AC – Following the death of the King, Triston Massey is named Master of Laws
14 AC – Arthur makes regular appearances in King’s Landing and begins to make his own circles and share and spread information.
15 AC – Triston Massey perishes in the Kingswood. Coren Massey would move permanently to the court of King’s Landing, vying for a seat on the Small Council, with no luck. In the same year, Beatrice takes his absence and begins to tutor and teach her own students within the lands of Stonedance in a variety of subjects.
18 AC – Beatrice is arranged to marry Dorin Sunglass, though the wedding is called off when he marries another, to her relief, and the chagrin of her family’s. Arina Waters is born.

Hello all,
I recently purchased a second-hand Palit RTX 4070Ti from EBay as an upgrade from my GTX 1080Ti. Got a new case to be able to fit it in and all went swimmingly until it came to powering up and testing the new GPU. Haven’t been able to get any output from the GPU and the VGA debug light is constantly on on the MB and currently at a loss as to how to fix it. The lights and fans work but that is as far as it goes. Using my old GTX 1080 Ti works completely fine but the new card refuses to work.
Specs are as below:
CPU: Ryzen 7 5700x
MB: MSI B450 Gaming Pro Max
GPU: Palit RTX 4070 Ti Gaming Pro
PSU: NZXT C750 Bronze (non-modular)
Things I have tried to fix it:
• Flashed the BIOS to the latest version
• Updated Nvidia drivers to latest version (using old GPU to get output)
• Unplugged USB headers
• Tried every DP output, with 2 different DP cables on 2 different monitors
• Ensured proper seating in the PCIe slot
• Ensured 12VHPWR is properly seated on both ends
• Tried a different, semi-modular 650W PSU that has 2 separate 8 pin PCIe cables rather than a single pig-tailed PCIe cable
• Tried the other PCIe lane
• Reseated RAM
Could anyone suggest any alternative potential fixes I may not have thought about? At this point feel like I’ve exhausted every option and the card has just become faulty but want to make sure before I start thinking about a return.
Thanks in advance

Content Warning:Mentions of Child Abuse & Gore
They called me a colic baby, meaning I was a seemingly healthy baby that was distressed for an unknown reason. The fits of crying mostly dissipated by six months, but they'd crop up every now and then into toddler-hood. When I became capable of babbling a few words, I would summarize my pain in a few words: belly hurt. Belly HURT!
My parents didn't have much money, but they took me to the doctor for a checkup anyway. After running a physical exam and blood test, they determined that I was merely an excessively gassy little girl and should probably eat a more gut-friendly diet. They also prescribed some medicine which would eliminate the gas and relieve my pain.
It was from that moment on that my parents gave me the nickname "Gas Girl" (which I despised). The name stuck for several years, and anytime I'd get a little stomach ache my mom or dad would say, "uh, oh. It's not Gas Girl returning, is it?" I'd glare at them with my arms folded and pout, saying, "I'm not Gas Girl. I'm Wonder Girl!" My parents would share a look, then burst out laughing. Just as I was about to shout a retort, my dad would open up his arms and bend down in that familiar pose which signaled liftoff, and all my childish rage detached like a racing sticker as I leaped into my dad's arms and he flew me around the living room shouting "Who is it? It's Wonder-girl! Here to save the day from Gas Girl!"
Anyway, just as the nickname wore off, the pain returned. I was about 7 or 8 when I had my first big episode. I was in second grade, and the class was cutting out shapes. The pain came on so suddenly I remember lurching back and falling out of my seat. The next few hours were a blur of adults: my teacher, the nurses, the principal, my parents. I remember how cold and alone I felt despite being surrounded by grown ups, and my stomach hurt so much I was crying pretty much nonstop.
My dad bought a bunch of OTC medicine to try and settle what he thought was a really bad gas episode. My mom laid at the side of my bed and did bicycles in the air with me. Hours passed in pain as my adolescent imagination conjured up images of an evil little elf blowing thousands of bubbles in my belly. I consciously pictured myself popping them, but every time I did, more were blown. My dad scheduled a doctor's appointment for the next morning, and my mom stayed at my side until I was able to fall asleep sometime late in the night.
I dreamed vividly a horrific nightmare. I was strapped to a black, metal box. A surgeon donning blue scrubs with white gloves and a mask entered the space in my peripheral vision. The air was cold but crisp, as if every bit of dust had been scrubbed out of existence. I could feel my breathing, my heartbeat, even my skin. The doctor stepped forward and I could see the distortion of a smirk in the folds of his mask. I expected him to say something, to tell me what he wanted, but instead he lifted my shirt so my belly was exposed. "It's cold", I said in a mumbly voice. He lifted his hand in the air, and I saw behind it off in the back of the room was what looked like the glass wall of an aquarium. I was confused for a second, but only a second. The surgeon plunged his hand into my stomach like a spear, splitting through the flesh as if it were the skin of a ripe fruit. The previously silent man began to cackle like a maniacal villain as I nearly passed out from the pain. I felt his fingers swimming through my guts like parasitic worms. My body shook as cold sweat and blood began to ooze from my pores. I wanted to scream but I couldn't make a sound. I could only lay there, paralyzed, as the evil doctor explored my insides.
Somehow I lost consciousness in the dream, but when I woke up, the memory came flooding back, and I screamed with all the force of a thunderstorm. My parents skipped the appointment and rushed me to immediate care, but by the time we arrived, the pain was gone. I explained my dream to the doctor, but he said it was normal to dream up reasons for the pain. They recommended a CT scan to screen out the possibility of an ulcer or internal bleeding. Despite my parents' scarce savings, they agreed to run the test. However, something deeply entrenched in my mind thought of the dream with the surgeon and I protested. "I don't want a test!" I screamed. "But, honey, how are we going to know what's wrong?" replied my mom. "Nothing's wrong now. I don't want a test."
Looking back now on my persistence, it should have been obvious that there was something wrong with me, but my parents, who were thinking of their finances, allowed themselves to acquiesce to my demands. The pain would continue into and throughout my teenage years, and the one benefit that I can credit to it was that it taught me how to endure pain and hide it well before puberty started. Compared to my childhood cramps, period cramps were around a B+. Very bad, but not end of the world bad. However, they'd stick around more reliably, and eventually the two began to combine until I could no longer discern between them. Occasionally I would have a nightmare and wake up with a pain that was a little higher in my stomach, almost approaching my chest, but it would always disappear by breakfast time, and the chaos of a teenage girl's life would once again reassert itself in the form of an outfit that didn't look quite right or the memory of every word of a conversation with a guy I liked or how my teacher was out to get me. Basically, I had become normal.
And then two weeks after I turned 16, my dad passed away from heart failure. Apparently the stress from a paycheck-to-paycheck life in sales added onto a bad diet and a penchant for alcohol was a recipe for disaster. He was only 49. I was crushed.
The weeks and months following his funeral were filled with teenage anger and resentment. I directed most of it at my mom, who I held accountable for not being strong enough to step up and help with the bills. One day, when I was searching the drug cabinet for some painkillers to deal with some bad cramping, I noticed a new prescription for a drug with a really long name. I looked it up. It was an antidepressant. From that moment on I stopped giving my mom shit, but I grew a bit distant from her. I started spending a lot more time with my friends. I became reckless, adopting a drinking habit and unsafe sex practices. I smoked a bit but I didn't really like it. I guess I was just trying to find a way to move on, as naive as it was.
Fast forward to my present situation, and I'm a college student. A junior to be exact. I ended up scrounging up enough money from working two restaurant jobs to see a therapist on my own dime, and managed to make peace with my mom before leaving. We both talked out all of our trauma and cried together, and from that moment on, I haven't had a drink. About six months ago I got on the pill. I was starting to see one guy consistently and I wanted to be safe, but also I wanted to know what it felt like to not have stomach cramps anymore. It was freeing. I remembered my dad lifting me up into the air as a child, and I figured it kinda felt like that. I still cry thinking about him, although I don't let anyone see.
Anyway, about a week ago I started having really bad pain again, but this time it was in my chest. I would wake up in my apartment (I share a 3-bedroom with some friends from the college) with heart palpitations. My heart felt like a snake had wrapped around it and was trying to choke it out. The pressure would give way to a burst of fast ba-dum's, then settle, then start again. I remembered my dad's prognosis and started to get really scared, so I scheduled an appointment with the on-campus doctor for the next day through the online health platform.
They told me that chest pain is no joke and scheduled to have me scanned at a nearby hospital. This was four days ago. My boyfriend, Kevin, drove me there even though I said I'd be fine going alone. I think I already knew our relationship wasn't going to work out long term, so I was kind of checked out. I felt bad about it though because Kev is actually a really good person, but our personalities just don't match. He's very introverted and doesn't like to go out, whereas I thrive in group settings. Anyway, he drove me and I ended up getting an X-ray. The doc came in to share the results and I was immediately put off by the dubious expression on his face.
"What do you mean the images are blurry?" I asked.
"Well, it's just… that. They're blurry. It's very unusual for this to happen unless you have a pacemaker or some other device implanted. Do you know if you have something like that?"
"No, never," I said with a quaver in my voice. For some reason I thought back on my childhood dream with the surgeon and felt the urge to vomit.
"Well, let's run a CT scan and see if we can make anything out." He soothed.
Normally the CT and MRI dock was booked for a week out but the doctor happened to have an open space for me that same morning, so I waited about an hour and then got in the big tube machine that took pictures of my chest and abdomen. He said he should have the results by Thursday. That was Yesterday.
I was driving onto campus for my 9AM class when I got the call.
"Hello, this is Dr. **** calling for Josie **** ." (names redacted for privacy reasons)
"Oh, yes, this is Josie," I said and fit the phone between my shoulder and ear as I tried to find a comfortable posture."
"Yes, hello," the male doctor said in grave way which made me feel like this wasn't going to be a short call. "I wanted to see if you were available to come in today for some more tests."
"More tests?" I asked. "What about the first ones?" Images of blocked heart valves and cancer presented themselves on my mental screen.
"Yes, well, I wanted to discuss the results with you in person. There was a bit of a … well, an inconsistency, and I didn't want to upset you—"
"Upset me!?" I blurted, my free hand flying out over the steering wheel, swerving my car toward the curb. I corrected, then lowered my voice, "sorry, I don't mean to be …" be, what? This is completely absurd. "Could you at least give me some indication of what's wrong with me? I'm just kind of panicking here."
The doctor was quiet for a moment, then returned. "Sorry, Josie, I didn't mean to spook you. Both the X-ray scan and CT scan are picking up interference which is unusual. It's possible it's just a flaw on our end, so that's why we wanted you to come back in—to do an MRI and really verify what the issue is. This one would be free of charge and we'd get you results same-day as we feel bad about the issues with the machinery. Do you think that would be possible?"
I took a deep breath. I still felt uneasy, but at least now there was some kind of explanation I could lean on. "Okay, yeah, I can come in. I have class until 9:50AM, but I can drive over after and be there around 10:15, 10:20-ish. Would that work?"
"That would work great. We'll see you then."
I spent the whole of my communications class thinking about what could be wrong with me, doodling my ideas down on a notebook. Heart disease. Cancer. Some kind of peptic ulcer. Maybe it was the pill? The drinking? Was this some kind of cosmic retribution? I didn't know.
An hour later I was back at the hospital. I expected to be ushered into the MRI prep room, but instead I found myself in one of the normal patient rooms, sitting upright on a bed. The nurse did the preliminary height and weight measurements and medical history. I asked about the MRI, but all she said was that the doctor will discuss that with me. Before she left, she handed me an assessment to fill out. It seemed to be a list of questions about the medical history of my family, specifically about our mental health. Does your family have a history of Schizophrenia? Have there been any instances of domestic abuse? Did you have vivid nightmares as a child? Etc. I marked the boxes, then set the clipboard down.
At last I heard the fated knock on the door, and my doctor came in holding an Ipad. The door was only open for maybe a couple seconds, but I could see multiple nurses and technicians peeking their heads in my direction, as if they were trying to catch a glimpse of me. That can't be good.
"Hello, Josie," the doctor said and clicked on the little TV screen. He didn't even look at me. I could see dried sweat along his hairline.
"What's happening? I thought I was going to get an MRI…"
"Well, actually we aren't sure if that's the best course of action." the doctor said as he clicked the screen and pulled up a series of images.
"Can you look at me, please?" I snapped.
The doctor raised his head and tilted it in my direction. His mouth was agape, his eyes wide as if only realizing I was here at that moment. "I'm sorry, Josie." He took a deep breath, preparing some kind of canned presentation, then let it out and said, "It's just easier if I show you." He pulled up the first global image from what I presume was my CT scan. It was a front-shot. I could see my organs as little geometric shapes and—
"Wait, what is that?" I asked, pointing at the screen.
"That—is the problem."
I spent the next minute just staring at it. Somehow, in between all of the organs, there was some kind of cylindrical mass—I thought it was my spine at first but quickly realized it was too wide and there weren't any vertebrae—and at the head of the mass was, very clearly, a hand.
"What the fuck is that" I said in a tone that was at once forceful and pointed.
"It appears," the doctor started, looking away again. "It appears that there is a mechanical hand in your chest cavity. It's attached to a piece of a forearm that begins at your stomach, here," he pointed, "and continues up until, well, it appears to be holding your heart."
Ten seconds passed in silence. Then I was hit with the equivalent of the laughing gas they give you at the Dentist's office. All the blood in my body surged to my forehead and I felt light as the very thin hospital air. "Hahaha!!! You expect me to believe that? What kind of fucking clown-show hospital is this? Am I at the circus?' I stood up and started toward the door. The doctor body blocked me.
"Please, Josie, that isn't it."
"Oh?" I said sarcastically. "Please, do tell."
"Could you have—oh, okay, okay,, let me explain."
I stood there with my arms folded, unrelenting.
"When we first had you do the X-ray there was a big blur. It was clear that something was blocking us from seeing the image. The CT scan was able to take some actual pictures of it. I know it seems, well, unusual—"
"Wait, what the hell is that?" I asked, gesturing toward the clipboard.
"What?" The doctor looked disoriented.
"Those questions. Are you trying to insinuate that my mom and dad implanted some kind of mechanical hand in my body?"
"No," the doctor raised his hands. "We were just trying to gather some more information… Josie," the doctor said as I once again headed for the door handle. "Please, there's more. From the blood test we conducted it seems that you're pregnant."
I was so done. "I'm on the pill, asshole." I sneered and swung the door open, ignoring the sets of eyes trained on me as I scurried to the end of the hall, ran outside, and climbed into my car. I expected to see a bunch of people in white coats running after me, but there was no one. I started the car as tears began to stream from my eyes. Fuck them, I thought and sped out of the parking lot.
I couldn't return to my apartment. I ended up driving for hours, working my way back to my hometown. I spent a long time thinking about all the things I had experienced growing up. The stomach pain, slowly working its way up to my chest. The vivid dream of the surgeon feeling around my guts. Was it really that crazy to think my body was trying to tell me something? Why had I decided against having a CT scan all those years ago? Why now? I didn't—couldn't believe what was happening to me. But was that just because I didn't want to believe it?
And then there was the pregnancy. I was definitely on the pill. I knew it wasn't Kev's, or at least I was pretty sure it wasn't. We haven't been having sex for a little over a month now. But did that mean that something else didn't impregnate me? My paranoia was at its peak. I considered the possibility that maybe it was me that was Schizophrenic. None of this made any sense. I wanted my dad. I missed him. I considered going to see my mom, but despite making up with her, I still didn't feel close enough to her to own up to everything. I wanted to be alone—needed to be alone.
I ended up getting a Motel about 10 minutes away from my house. It was around 1AM when I finally opened the door to my room and laid down on the bed. After hours of thinking, a single thought occurred to me like a kind of defense mechanism: if I really am pregnant, I'm not keeping the baby. I want it out.
Just as I was drifting off to sleep, I heard the notification sound go off on my phone, which was odd since I was sure I had set it to vibrate. I turned and grabbed it, unplugging it from its charging dock. I had received a text message from an unknown, 5-digit number: 66669. This is what it said.
66669: If you terminate my baby, I will crush your heart.
***
I haven't been able to sleep since. It's now 6AM and I've drafted this as a cry for help. Please, let me know what you think I should do. I'm too "in it" to see the details clearly. I feel alone and scared and paranoid. Someone or something is watching me. Maybe it has been my whole life.

Introduction
While “No Man’s Land” is considered a desert frontier by most, it has been the home of a native population for centuries: The neksut nomads. The neksut travel from oasis to oasis, riding horses and herding sheep and other animals. Though some Neksut have fearsome reputations as warriors, the neksut way of life is under threat from foreign settlers, most of whom see the as unsophisticated.
Recreation
Though outsiders will confidently claim the neksut have no arts to speak of (or even no culture at all), in truth the desert riders have rich musical and storytelling traditions. The neksut are great lovers of song, specializing in throaty chants. Singing is often heard while the tribe is on horseback or around the camp at night, and is typically collaborative, with a lead singer being echoed by several others. The most famous songs are epic historical and mythical tales, such as The Stone Men, Ballad of the Besieger, and Death of Pulcros. Musical instruments include string and woodwind devices, carved from wood and richly decorated.
However perhaps the greatest neksut art is quicksmithing itself. Manipulating quicksteel is vital to the nomads’ way of life, allowing them to effortlessly convert carts into temporary dwellings and back again. But with excess metal, neksut quicksmiths (called shapers in their language) often create temporary sculptures that will be deconstructed when the tribe moves on. Such sculptures are very abstract, often embodying the mood or state of the tribe at the time of construction. To the neksut, the impermanence of this art represents the transient nature of their way of life and of life itself.
Food
The neksut diet is heavily dictated by their nomadic lifestyle, and is fittingly dominated by the products of domesticated animals, principally horses and sheep. Milk is the most important element, and is drank as well as made into cheese, yogurt, or a dry powder. These dairy products are paired with meat from either domestic sheep or from hunted jackalopes or roastritches. Contrary to popular belief, the neksut do not eat their horses, save in rare cases when an animal dies or is too old to keep up with the tribe. Such animals are far too valuable as mounts and sources of milk to be consumed, and in fact an idiom meaning “eating one’s horse” is a neksut expression for one who has not thought things through.
Vegetables and spices (save for salt) are relatively scarce in much of the central desert and thus are scarce in the neksut diet as well. However the nomads make great use of what ingredients they have in a wide variety of dairy and meat meals. Seasoned jackalope jerky with cheese, shredded mutton over yogurt, and roastritch stew are typical. These meals are supplemented with redleaf, roastritch eggs, and whatever foreign ingredients can be traded for. While their cuisine is typically somewhat plain on account of their transient nature, the neksut can put on impressive feasts for special occasions, such as weddings or celebrations. In these cases the traditional meal is the so-called “yogurt table,” in which each participant is given a bowl of yogurt to pair with dozens of small dishes which are passed amongst the tribe.
Gender and Marriage
The neksut are relatively egalitarian in terms of gender. Two reasons for this may be due to their heavy reliance on horses and quicksmithing for their way of life; Mares are actually far superior mounts to stallions (due to their smaller size and milk), and the necessity for quicksmithing to set up camps and carts means that female quicksmiths cannot be disregarded, as all hands are needed. Thus neksut women can be warriors, chieftains, and shamans, with Salaris the Sandstorm and Mist-Eyes being prominent examples. However outside of these important roles, their still is a gendered division of labor in most tribes. Neksut often marry outside the tribe, with young men and women being sent to other tribes as dictated by shamans.
Government
Neksut governance is divided between chieftains and shamans. Chieftains lead tribes from one oasis to another, ultimately ending their journey at a religious site. Shamans oversee religious sites and help select the next route taken by the passing tribes, coordinating movements between different tribes so that resources are given time to replenish. The balance of power between these two roles has varied over time, though currently shamans seemingly hold the dominant role. Shamans serve an important logistical purpose in organizing the travels of tribes and arranging marriages, but they also act as culture repositories, with the shared language, history, and customs of the neksut likely owing to the shamans’ influence. Thus the Neksut are considered one culture and not a dozen.
Religion
Though their mythology purports to explain the origins of humanity, the first mentions of the neksut in the historical record dates to the aftermath of the Great Dying. Some scholars have suggested that the neksut might share common ancestry with some of the people of Tolmika, noting common elements between neksut religion and the Faith of the Heeders.
Neksut religion is centered around the earth and the sky. According to their mythology, the desert was originally a paradise that was the birthplace of the first humans, the Stone Men, who were the children of the earth and the sky. These children crafted a vast civilization from the abundant resources, living like gods for centuries. But over time they forgot their place, abusing the land and ignoring the sky. Eventually, the parents punished their offspring; The earth sent forth earthquakes and eruptions, while the sky whipped up duststorms and withheld the rain. The paradise transformed into the great desert, and most of the children died or fled, leaving their civilization to crumble. But one child, “Neksut”, remained and resolved to repent by living off the land even in these harsh conditions, slaying his fellow stone men. The neksut trace their origins to this figure. They see their own lifestyle as a continuation of that repentance, and view other civilizations as a recreation of their ancestor’s mistakes.

Posting to help myself process the climb and provide thoughts for others thinking about Denali unguided on minimal experience. Open to thoughts and critique from people who know what they're doing. I'm obliged to thank all those who provided their thoughts and guidance to me on this subreddit a year ago. Also, to the guidance from Steve House and the other guy in their YouTube Denali video.
TLDR: Did not summit, learned lots.
It was a great idea... We trained pretty hard in the flatlands... We bought lots of good gear... and some not so good..... We were optimistic.....And realistic, we thought....
But... man, oh man. Denali is BIG, Alaska is BIG. And Talkeetna felt very small after 24 hours.
First alert was assembling our food. We drop shipped almost all the food to our hotel in Anchorage. We got in about 9pm, got everything from the desk and walked over to Wal Mart for the rest. Started packing food into daily rations about 10pm. We thought that would take 30 minutes. Try close to four hours, confusion, second guessing ourselves and each other on quantities, days, recipes. Got to sleep much later than we thought. We both worried that we'd be tired, maybe too tired for when we were dropped off on the glacier the next afternoon. HAH!!
Met Gary the shuttle driver the next morning. Watch some other TRs on YouTube and you'll get to know Gary, friendly, outgoing with good info about Talkeetna. We arrive on time, go through check in and somehow we got bumped out of our Ranger meeting. Come back later and we'll still have time to get to our flight. Did I mention it's overcast with light rain? Go through the ranger meeting, head over to TAT to find that we're 76th and 77th on the waitlist with. "Come back tomorrow at 8am for an update." Two guys we met on the shuttle actually make the plane that day because they understood the process with TAT and were all set to go after the Ranger meeting. Guy at TAT checks us in and takes our $$. No other info is offered or asked for. We're aware we need sleds and wands but we guess they just go on the plane with us.
We find the TAT climbing hostel and are grateful to find two bunks in the same room. My buddy is, not germophobic, but he is right up to that line. We eat at a restaurant that night, figuring, hey, 7 climbers per flight, 11 flights, mid afternoon tomorrow right? We check in at TAT at 8am, they're making waffles and have actually great coffee. But they have no idea if there'll be any flights today. Wander back and forth from the hostel, through town to the airfield. This is day 2 of 16 days we've given ourselves to go up. At day 16, no matter where we are, we go down.
Day 3, repeat day 2 but now we're using the hostel kitchen. I'm cool with the level of hygiene because this is only a level or two beyond how I grew up, when things got chaotic. I'm impressed with my buddy's fortitude, and grateful because I don't want to pay for food when it's already been bought. We hear good news that afternoon about the weather. Buddy suggests we get an AirBnB for this night to get a good nights sleep and clean shower before we likely fly out the next day.
Day 4, the weather starts to clear and now there's real activity at the airfield. My buddy, who doesn't sit still well, joins a group of workers at the airfield digging a trench. I sit on the deck, breathing deeply and hoping we can get out today. Then we get word we're up soon. Then I ask, hey what about sleds and wands? Find out climbers should get this arranged right after check in and we scramble around getting this set up. I grab a sled without looking it over well. As we and our gear are being driven over, I see this sled has some serious cracks and swap for a better one 10 minutes before we fly out.
The flight up is amazing. The transition on the glacier is hectic, a short controversy about which mountain can belongs to who and we get off the landing strip quick. We find a spot to set our tent a fair ways up the hill and get to work melting water for dinner and the next day. Take my skis out in order to prep for tomorrow and find the front straps of my skins have torn and are irreparable. I walk around camp, find a guy who's leaving who sells me his skins for $50. Can't believe how lucky I am. I walk around and get pictures, bury, wand and gps tag our cache. I'm blown away, I'm alive in a way I've only experienced a few other times in my life. I'm excited to get going in the wee hours of day 5. Plenty of days left, right?
Get up and going on time. Feels so good to be hauling the sled, carrying the pack. Going down is helpful. Going on flat and climbing isn't bad. I am working harder than my buddy(MB) from here on. He's 20 years younger and places top 5 in regional ultras, I'm a caboose guy at these. Anyhow, I feel like I'm holding him up, like he's disappointed in our pace. We arrive at 8K camp 8 hours later. MB points out that successful groups do this in 6hrs. I'm reply I'm working at a pace that I believe gets me to 14K in good shape, and what else did you want to do today? Ends fine, we each accept where the other one's at. Set up camp, Denali Pizza (simple and awesome) for dinner. Melt water, pull out the gear, food we'll cache at about 9.5K tomorrow. Good day, amazing as clouds lift a bit and we see more terrain.
Day 6, realize we're not eating 2 bagels each per day. We've over planned with bagels and several other foods. Too much weight but unsure about how to move things around. Lighter packs, lighter sleds and the first real climb. We do good work, talk a bit to teams coming down, most not having summitted. Bury, wand and GPS tag our cache. Tie empty sleds to our packs and head down. When we get to the real down hill, it's trashy, flat light, and I'll own this: I was rattled being off balance with a bit more weight and bulk going down. Got in my head and took some time to descend. MB frustrated or just me in my head? Got back down, did camp work, napped, ate dinner.
Day 7, push up to 11K. Snow picking up and visibility still good. I'm slower than MB again, and even though this is a fact we're both well aware of since we talked about Denali 3 years ago, it's in my head and won't leave that I'm holding us back. We start up the first real climb into 11 camp. Wind blown snow is making wands hard to see, we're using his Garmin to verify the route. The skins I bought at the airfield don't cover the width of my skis at the tips and tails. As we're taking an aggressive elevation gain on switchbacks, I'm slipping more and more with less skin to snow contact. We crest the rise and hike through the camp to find a spot at the uphill end. We begin setting up camp. I mention looking forward to having a kitchen tent now that we'll be in the same place for 3 days. MB basically says, go ahead but I don't think we need that and I won't be part of digging it out or setting it up. I get started probing an area, setting the outline of the dig and then realize this will take me hours and give up. Dinner, melt water, discuss tomorrow's back hauling. I propose we boot down from 11 camp and put skis on at the base of the climb and MB seems okay with it.
Day 8, wake up to heavy snow. Dig out our enclosure and have breakfast. Put more food we didn't eat into the "carry forward bag" which is getting heavier by the meal. Dig out again, and again, and again. Mid-afternoon we start getting weather reports through garmin in-reach texts with a guy back home and from other teams and guides. Consensus in 6 more days of this but up to 48" per day. I run the math: 8+6=14. Hmmm: 16-14=2. Then I run the flights per day math and number of teams we've seen descending, number of teams likely to descend with this forecast. My math says we could be stuck here 6 days and at the airfield for that or more. All for 2 more possible days of ascent. MB disagrees and wants to wait it out. We walk through various scenarios and I hold firm. MB agrees we'll go down because we both agreed if one wanted to go down for any reason, that was that. MB is a guy who holds to his word in this and all aspects of life.
We pack up. Fast...and sloppy. We want to fly out tomorrow. I'm not excited anymore, I'm anxious and want off Denali. Not be in a tent for two weeks in snow. We boot down the hill below 11 camp, put on skis and find our cache at 9.5, combine stuff. I get my stuff packed well. We start down. The track is blown in and we are navigating entirely by Garmin, using the standard route. Not reversing our climb up, which followed the visible track and wands. Are we actually on safe snow? We're both thinking that question but not saying it out loud. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm in front setting the track so MB's sled has something to ride in. If he's in front, his sled tips over. He's calling directions to me for the route, "Left...more left...rightish... too far."
We head down the last hill into 8 camp. I allow my sled to be in front of me and steer it like reins on a horse. Snow plow, keep it slow and things are moving along fine for me. MB wipes out over and over. Repacks his sled and gets down the last 200 yards well. We ski right through 8 camp. Someone asks if we're headed down and then says that if we call in to the airfield from there, we're already in line. True or not, we're finishing this in one push. Visibility is still about 15 feet but now we have a track to follow. We're both cautious with the downs. Don't know if we need to let it rip to go up again or if there's a corner we need to be slow for. We get to the airfield in 9.5 hours. Dig up our cache and consolidate our gear.
MB decides he'd rather not cowboy camp with the fly and we set up the tent and go to sleep. Up at the appointed hour and get in the flight queue. The guy says he'll give us plenty of notice so we can take down our tent, IF we fly out today. I am now watching every cloud for signs of building or diminishing. A few planes fly in, circle and leave. We're napping on and off.
Then I hear the guy yelling, "that's your plane". It's being loaded. We're 200 yards away in our fully set up tent, pads and bags. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I go down and ask "what happened?" "I don't know, two guys snaked your flight." Talk a bit more about other stuff, what he's been reading, we're into some similar literature. He then guarantees we'll be on the next flight that comes in, whether today or tomorrow. I'm listening for airplanes full on now, just want to get down and be off the mountain.
We do get on a flight that day, get a hotel and move flights and shuttle to fly out of Anchorage tomorrow. I walk down by the river and call my wife. "Honey, this will sound weird, I need you to tell me I'm really off the mountain and not dreaming." This helps a lot.
We make all our connections and fly out, get back home the next day. If you got this far, thanks, I guess. It's cathartic to write all this down. I replay this trip or parts of it every couple weeks even now. MB and I did our repair work and still call, text, hang out, run together when I'm in town. I do not regret going one bit, yet not getting further up still hits me hard. My fears and reaction to niggling discomforts on the mountain tell me I'm weak.
If I did it again:

1. No skis on Denali for me. I'm a competent skier and can get down serious stuff out west without embarrassing myself. A pack and a sled skiing down through crud with low visibility? Snow shoes all...the...way.
   
2. 4 people, not two. Enough guys to set up a kitchen tent, split camp duties into smaller tasks. I need a place to spread out, talk, cook and eat in a comfortable position.
   

2A. Allow way more time, a month total.

1. Better conversations about pace and relative speed well before the trip.
   
2. We did ropes work, simulated crevasse rescue, camped out in -10F. More time winter camping and skinning in the woods together.
   
3. MB and I climbed Mt Adams. We summitted Rainier together unguided in 8/2022. Took a 3 day custom guided mountaineering class in 12/2021 to learn skills. Didn't go above 7K in the class. Handled our shit well for two days. Not enough time to really know what we're in for physically and work through team frictions about pace, leisure time, camp life. Maybe we could have climbed Rainier and Baker on the same trip? Maybe spend several days at Camp Muir and summit twice? Climb Rainier early season?
   
4. Guided if I try again? Maybe.
   

I read this back and the inner critic says, "I'm a whiny bitch", just like when I am thinking about it every couple weeks. If I go back it can't be about that, not trying to prove that voice wrong. If I go back...it'll be because of that alive feeling I got on the airfield glacier, to have it again, to avail myself of a second chance to live a dream.
Thanks for reading all this. Part confessional, part TR.
I feel better.

welcom to America today with a new article about ‘Taylor Swift baby’ goes viral at concert. Are kids allowed – and should you bring them?
Taylor Swift brought her Eras Tour to Paris and attracted one surprisingly young fan: a baby, who was allegedly photographed lying on the floor.
A venue spokesperson told the New York Post’s Page Six that the fan in question would have been offered a place to sit: “For spectators with a young child in the floor, an alternative seating arrangement has been proposed but refused by ticket holders.” A quick Google search reveals that plenty of parents are seeking guidance on the best way to bring a baby to a concert.
A blog post on the e-commerce site Tushbaby asks “Can you take babies to concerts?” and advises that infants wear earplugs and, when possible, be taken to concerts that are “Appropriate for their age and temperament.” Beyond providing food and drinks, parents should be prepared to leave if the experience proves overwhelming for their baby, the post says.
read more here :
https://new.themindful-life.com/2024/05/13/taylor-swift-baby-goes-viral-at-concert-are-kids-allowed-and-should-you-bring-them/

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- there's so many layers to this so i'm sorry this might be long -
background:
I (F/ 16) and my friends are going on a trip together and i dont know whether i'm overreacting. (ima going to use alias names) me, allie and nora have been best friends for three years-- it used to be 4 (so there was a pair and a pair) but we stopped being friends with her. so now we are working as a "trio" but deep down i know its a duo + me. they've been hanging out with james and liam a lot recently (me and liam have a past together so it’s kinda awk between us) and become a little group. i dont mind that they are friends at all, because i wouldn't want to be in their little group because of liam. but due to them getting closer i kinda feel like they are on the fence about me. almost like they are on the verge of dropping me, but i can't tell. they invite me to stuff sometimes when it's a bigger group, but's the type of thing if there only 5 seats in the car i'd probably wouldn't be "able" to go. if u get what i mean. but they still talk to me everyday and I still hang out with them on a regular basis also nora is the type of person who gets really defensive/angry when you bring up any type of problem to her, and allie will just follow whatever nora does.
on this trip there are tons of rooms, with king beds and everything. allie and nora said that they get the master (king bed) bc they put the whole trip together and it was their idea. which i didn't really mind at first, because i was going to share beds with lexi. however lexi backed out last minute so that leaves me wondering where i'm going to sleep. there are four other girls going on this trip, sofia, olivia, emma and isabella. sofia and isabella both have boyfriends so they are going to be sharing with them, so that leaves me olivia and emma. nora is friends with emma, and has been for around a half a year so she is way closer to her than any of us. (nora's kind of a floater friend so she has a lot of friends if other groups). i figured why not nora and emma share a bed together since i dont really know her and then me and allie can just share. but no. nora wants her and allie to be in the master bedroom (which is huge btw). not to mention, allie's mom and her brother are also going on the trip, since her mom is our "chaperone". but they aren't getting the master, they're getting another room with just a regular bed. personally i think that allie's mom and her brother should get the master bed because it has its own bathroom too so they wouldn't have to keep leaving their room, and they can jus kind of stay in their own space. i brought up to nora that she's going to have to fit another person in the king bed with her and allie, because that's just so much space for two people when we are trying to fit 19 people in here. i assumed since me allie and nora have been friends forever that i would go in there with them, and i asked allie about it and she said it was good. later i texted nora abt what me and allie agreed on but she was like "no i already promised it to emma she'll get so pissed". so you can't piss off emma but your not concerned about my feelings? so i was like "oh alr who would i sleep with" she goes "emma". so i was like "isn't emma sleeping with you" "no you two would share and if we need to add someone in the bed with me and allie it would be emma". so im jus like uhhh ok?? she laid out the sleeping arrangements and a general overview of who is sleeping where, and let me jus break it down. room 1 (master): allie and nora = king bed. room 2: 8 guys = 2 queen beds + sofa bed. room 3: isabella (nora's cousin) + her bf = queen. room 4: sofia + her bf. room 5: allie's mom + allie's brother. room 6: me, emma, oliva = full bunk beds w/ pull out. I just feel like the best rooms are getting reserved for allie and nora and their fam and literslly gave us the worst room. allie's mom didn't pay nor her brother. and nobody paid more/less for betteworse rooms. so why do they get the best rooms? like jeez even the 8 boys got better rooms than us. and the boys arent even going to be able to fit in that one room bc they are trying to keep a king to just 2 people.
I just feel like they're not looking out for me at all because they text the guys more than me and have more connections in general., but I don't know how to confront them (or if I even should) about it because if I do, I feel like Nora is just going to start getting really angry and defensive, and allie just gonna go along with whatever she says. Not only that but I don't wanna get dropped by them because I really value our friendships but they're treating me like shit and I know that I just don't know how to stop it or whether they care enough. What should I do? also, let me know if I'm overreacting or expecting too much from them, I just feel like since we've known each other for the longest, and always been a "group" we would be togethethey would help me figure out rides and stuff. but idk

This sub helped a lot in planning for our trip to Paris with our 6 year old twins. I thought I'd share my experience in case it woudl be helpful for others.
We booked an apartment in the 14th, away from the busier city center, but still easy to access much of the city; within 30 minutes by metro. A friend used to live nearby so I was familiar with the neighborhood and new it would be a good place for the kids, with lots of parks within walking distance. It was a lot cheaper than something similar in a more central neighborhood and met our needs nicely.
Our general plan was not to try to pack too much in to any given day. We passed on the museums this trip and focussed more on seeing the city and eating out.
We mostly ate near the apartment, except for lunches. Breakfast each day was at a bakery nearby. We found one we all enjoyed, that had a lovely terrace and went back daily.
Highlights:

• Our son loves soccer. We carried a ball in a backpack everywhere we went. He got to play soccer with lots of local kids and had an absolute blast.
• Our daughter loves sweets. She enjoyed dessert with every meal and looking into the bakeries around the city. Pistachio eclairs were her favorite.
• We had lunch at Chalet des Iles at the Bois de Boulogne and at the restaurant in the Jardin de Plantes. Both had kids menus and food that was a step up for the us.
• My daughter asking me to dance with her on the steps of the Sacre Coure. My heart melted.
• Jardin d'Acclimation. We all enjoyed it more than Disney. Way cheaper, easier to get to and tastier food options.
• Lunch at Le Plomb du Cantal - Truffade is one of my favorite foods :)
• Date night - We have a friend that lives locally that watched the kids one night.

What worked well for us:

• Lots of park time! If we went to see something that the kids weren't as interested in, we followed it up with some park time. Some mornings or afternoons, we just hung out at the park. We picked up some baked goods, a sandwhich or salad, got a coffee and chilled in a beautiful park, drinking nice coffee and having wonderful snacks.
• Taking it super slow. We let the kids sleep in (they woke up around 8:30).
• Our French is very rudimentary. Hellos, thank yous, pleases and a handful of phrases. We taught the kids to say a few things as well. Most people quickly switched to English. Everyone was extremely welcoming.
• Quick dinners with the kids. After a long day out, we ate early most nights and got the kids to bed close to their normal bed times.
• Every restaurant had a limited kids menu. Sometimes just one or two options. One of the kids will eat anything and loves trying new foods. The other is super picky. They both did very well. Sometimes we ordered a few items a la carte if the kids menu didn't fit their tastes. At home we have them eat what we do, so they get used to a variety, we were far less strict on the trip and let them choose what sounded good to them. They loved that part!
• Train rides everywhere. They enjoyed the experience of riding the metro and RER.
• Navigo Decouverte passes for everyone made travel around the region super simple and cost effective
• Sketchbooks and crayons in the backpack to keep the kids busy at restaurants. They enjoy eating out but max out at about an hour. Many meals took longer than that and having somethign to do heped a lot.
• Cheese from the farmers market: I got a freezer bag from Picard to bring back some amazing cheeses.

Things that we did that the kids didn't really enjoy:

• The Eiffel Tower - The lines were long. We reserved tickets and it still took us about 70 minutes to get to the elevator. The kids didn't care much about the view, though we enjoyed it.
• Beataux Mouche - I thought it would be a hit. But it was a total bust for the kids.

We'd been to Paris before and didn't feel the need to try to see much. Our goal was for the kids to see a bit of the world that is different than our US suburb, try some new foods and hopefully instill a love of travel in them. The kids absolutely loved it and we so enjoyed watching them enjoy the trip.

I've had my Sela Green trial master for ~6 weeks now. I've done some light offroading, made a few mods, and I have ~800 miles on it. I'll be doing a break-in oil change soon. Overall I'm really impressed with the mechanical quality of the car. drivetrain, suspension, etc is great. I did upgrade to 285/70r17 tires and I'm running them at 38psi. This helps.
The only mechanical issue I've encountered is that it needs more caster. I maxed out the caster adjustment and that works pretty well. A set of longer lower links from a 3rd party will doubtless be released in the next year. it is mandatory to make that adjustment, and IMO, if you are here as an owner and haven't done it, you owe it to yourself to try it. it is transformative for highway driving. (I did it after 60 miles on the Odometer).
Software
The software is a whole different story. its shit. There is no way around it that their software engineers have missed the mark. To me, it is shocking that as good as the rest of the car is, the software can be so poor. Here's the breakdown.

1. the unit itself seems slow, though, I suspect the processor is actually fine given that touch inputs are good. but, the underlying OS is broken in some critical way.
2. for some reason, Ineos has chosen to keep the head unit in "sensor confirmation" only mode. I have no schematics or access to the code, but, it seems that the system does not register anything as having happened until an external sensor validates that it has happened. the classic example is that the lockers are active until the wheel sensors confirm the wheels are unlocked. BUT, I think the air conditioning does this too - it feels like the reason climate control is all over the place is that it acts as if it is relying on cabin temp sensors to confirm the commanded actions, rather than just commanding them directly. I suspect some kind of CANBUS hell going on here, but obviously I can't confirm.
3. the main loops of the software seem to have a lot of sloppy interrupts - if your wipers are on and the engine shuts down for there auto start stop, when the engine turns on again, the wipers pause. Why? because the ignition event reboots the electrical system for a wiper control module? or...because an interrupt pauses signal? who knows.
4. when you start the car, you can basically see the sensors report in and the computer processes those inputs real time. State isn't saved and updated, it all comes online from scratch every time. if it were me, I'd expect things like headlight/daylight mode to be stored, as well as ADAS prefs, off-road mode, etc. BUT, they're not. Fuel level doesn't appear to be stored, either. Except some of this stuff seems to be stored for some amount of time sometimes. ADAS settings will persist randomly as will some others. It's a mess.
5. It doesn't appear to have a "real time" kernel or any other kind of real time I/O system. I don't think the head unit actually interfaces with the critical stuff (thank god), so, I think they made some of the choices above for some other reasons, but, it has the effect of making the UI very aggravating.
6. some settings appear to be "hidden, but load on startup" - e.g. fuel economy units. The default is l/km, which shows even in the US when the vehicle is off - open your door and you'll see. Once you start the car, it quickly changes.

___
If I had to guess at the underlying issues, it appears that they don't reliably store/write/read state for preferences - the fact that there is objectively supposed to be four basic classes of settings:

• Permanent - e.g. internal controls with a system variable set
• user-settable permanent - e.g. warning sound volume, region, units, etc.
• user settable, ephemeral - e.g. ADAS disable
• controlled by sensors/physical interface buttons. This is the daylight sensor setting display brightness, the speed sensor for radio volume, and the inputs from wheel speed for lockers, and the climate control knobs.

It appears as if at boot, there is some kind of file that initializes all these settings (e.g. l/km to mpg, headlights on, etc) and sometimes ephemeral settings are not cleared. power cycling the car doesn't reliably do anything. The head unit reset (hold mute button) does seem to reset some stuff but....I think something more fundamental is wrong.
___
That said, the majority of this could be fixed with software updates, and if we as a community could confirm it - e.g. mess with sensor inputs and see what the response is, maybe we could learn something about the software.
I'm hoping that sooner or later someone manages to dump the entire software stack, too. given the digital approach to using the programming, ideally we'd be able to find out what's in that initial settings file and maybe play with the ADAS defaults...or, if we could locate the sound effect file for the clicker noises maybe someone could replace them with blank audio files.
___
All that said, I love the car and I'm keeping it. BUT, I'm not the kind of person to leave well enough alone. Anyone else have any deductions?

First time posting anything in Reddit. Seemed like as good a time as any as I'm really struggling with how to deal with a devastating situation with my mom! This is a long one but I need to get it out there. I'm heartbroken and out of options, as is my whole family.
In the middle of the night after Easter Sunday, I got a call at 3am in the morning from mom telling me that my dad "finally did it - he tried to kill me." She was in the hospital and physically speaking, unharmed. She told me my dad was arrested and in the psych ward and that she needed to go as the doctors were checking up on her. Thankfully by the time I got off the phone, my dad had responded to a text I'd sent him saying what in the world is going on, saying that he had to call 911 on her; he was at home and safe by that point.
He'd woken up at 2am their time and had noticed she had left the house in her car. After a quick review of her iPhone location, he noticed she was at a house they had rented a number of years earlier. He drove over and could see her sitting on the couch, apparently alone. He tried tapping on the window thinking perhaps she was confused and didn't know where she was and had wandered in. She saw him but then looked away and moved to another room. Finally, he realized he needed to knock on the door. He knew the couple that lived there casually and explained she'd been struggling recently. The husband told him he didn't know what to think at first when she said he had tried to kill her, but quickly realized something wasn't right. He had already called 911. My dad also called 911 because she wouldn't leave with him and he didn't know what else to do.
When the police arrived, they quickly realized something was very wrong with my mom and that my dad didn't pose any threat to her (she admitted right away that he was sleeping when she left). She was moved to the hospital and my dad went home. At the hospital, they found her to be extremely manic - paranoid, delusional, hyperverbal. They (meaning multiple psychiatrists after examination and discussion with me and my dad) put her on an involuntary 72 hold under the state's emergency hold act for someone who was a danger to themselves or others (she was deemed to be a danger to herself because she had no insight into her situation and couldn't take care of herself).
After the 72 hours, they decided they needed to continue to hold her as she was still paranoid and delusional, as well as exhibiting signs of dementia. Once we were finally able to talk to a couple doctors live and get some very preliminary indications that she was suffering from progressive dementia and some form of delirium/psychosis, I was able to join my dad to try and figure out next steps. It became clear over the course of the next 10-11 days, that we were going to have to move her into memory care, so that's what we did. Signed a contract with as nice a place as we could find, hired a concierge psychiatrist billed as one of the best in the state, hired an elder care attorney and also an advocate to help my dad navigate the situation.
We received word (after following up day after day with very little communication) that she would be released from the psychiatric ward mid-week and arranged for her to be taken directly to the memory card facility based on doctor's advice. Despite a hiccup where she talked the driver into bringing her home first, where I luckily just happened to be eating lunch, we got her checked into the facility (I told her it was either back to the psych ward or to the facility and she happy complied). Problem was - she didn't realize it was memory care and it only took about four hours before the phone calls started about how awful the place was, how she had to get out, the place wasn't safe, I was a bad son, my dad was evil, etc. etc.
As an aside, up to this point, we thought we had done just about everything by the book. Ironically, it was my mom who insisted some number of years ago that she and my dad should get long term care insurance in addition to executing both health care representative POAs and financial POAs. After talking with the elder law attorney, we felt we had 99% of what was needed to at least take some of the strain out of the situation. He did say that if the proverbial shit hit the fan, the POAs might not be enough and that we'd need full legal guardianship, but he felt pretty good that we could do what the doctors were advising us to do and get her into a structured facility, at least for the time and try to get her stable. If we could get her 30 days of very structured care, the doctor told us that there's always a chance she could respond well. ("Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst" in his words.)
And that's where things fell apart. Even though the psychiatrist/MD realized very quickly that she was suffering from some form of moderate to severe dementia, my mom is very high functioning and began plotting almost immediately to get out of the facility despite our insistence that she needed the 24/7 care at least for the time being. She was calling everyone she knew - friends, other family, other doctors etc., insisting that she was fine; it was my dad who needed help, and that she needed out right away.
The above had become a familiar refrain over the last 12-18 months. It started innocently enough when my mom had made a comment that she was a little afraid of my dad because he'd gotten angry one evening. I took it very seriously and asked her to take me through what had happened. Apparently they'd gotten into a minor argument at one point over something trivial. My mom kept needling him on the issue and he eventually pounded his fist on the table (completely out of character for him) and it had rattled her. I explained to my mom that I took this seriously and I'd talk with him to make sure everything was ok. I did confront him and he was honest - said he lost his temper but that mom was just on him 24/7 about things that were either minor or simply not true. She claimed he played golf every day when in reality he played maybe 2-3 times a month (he's retired so I'm not sure what would be wrong with playing everyday but I guess that's besides the point). She would get pissed at him for being gone for too long but she'd also get pissed for him not going out and finding things today. There was a lot of this.
From that point, things got worse - she had a surgery in September of last year where she underwent general anesthesia and that really seemed to light a fire under the symptoms. She began to withdraw even further from social activities. She wasn't sleeping much at night; hardly eating. The accusations against my dad got bigger and bolder (he had a girlfriend that was 40 years younger than him; he'd bought a boat among them). None of these things were true. My brother went to stay with my folks for a few months - he wanted to spend time with them in any event, but we also thought it would be good for him to see the dynamic up close. Maybe our dad was doing some things he shouldn't? Maybe he needed to adjust his behavior? Well, after three months, my brother could tell something was seriously wrong with my mom. She was not herself and things were getting worse.
Three days before the Easter Sunday where it all went south, my mom was supposed to come up to where my wife and I live and go into assisted living for 30-60 days. She wanted to do it and we were excited because we thought it would give us a chance to have some objective views from the staff on what might be going on. We thought dementia was a real possibility because her own primary care doctor had suggested for at least 12 months that she get tested but she'd canceled no less than three appointments (the last two literally as they were getting in the car). For reasons that still aren't entirely clear, she canceled at the last minute. Even though my wife and I had made the arrangements and had everything essentially ready to go, my mom insisted on trying to plan with the facility as well and some wires got crossed on trivial things. It seems those things caused her to be suspicious and start to believe we were "trying to put her away." Again though, this was her idea.
It was the period between the cancellation and Easter Sunday that things just spiraled. My wife and I, among others, were getting texts and phone calls in the middle of the night, all night during those three to four days. They were increasingly paranoid and unhinged, linking my dad to the husband of a family friend who'd committed suicide. Saying he was a narcissist, just like my dad. Many things that simply were not at all in line with the character of my dad (and not just according to me but everyone who ever knew him and knew him well). When she began to bring up the fact that she thought the friend's husband had killed her, I knew things were bad. I suggested my dad get out of the house and give her some space. I was worried about both of them. She's tiny but you never know. I also didn't want my dad arrested or put into a situation where the stress can be overwhelming - he's got a bard heart. So he did leave the day before Easter, even though he totally discounted my concern.
The reason he came back on Easter Sunday was because she asked him to. She wanted to celebrate and see the dog. By all accounts, they had a nice evening and even watched a movie together before he went to bed. And then she decided to get in her car, drive 80 miles to a house they used to live in and tell the shocked couple that my dad was trying to kill her!
So, she's in the memory care facility after her release from the psychiatric hold and as excruciatingly difficult as it was to put here there, we felt it was necessary, at least until the paranoia subsided. I stayed for three days and visited her each day. She'd fluctuate between telling me I was an awful son, rehashing all the "documentation" she had on how horrible the doctors and my dad are, and then saying how she didn't want to ruin the family and we could all work it out. My brother stayed for another few days after I left and then had to get back home. He received similar treatment. We mistakenly thought we had things under control until she decided to write a very thoughtfully crafted letter stating explicitly that she requested release from the facility, nothing that she was "of sound mind and body."
The doctor, the facility and our attorney explained that they could no longer keep her there. We understood the limits of the POA, but this was hard to fathom. We had mounds of doctor's evidence from the psychiatric ward and the new doctor pointing to not only advanced dementia, but also stating that she was unable to care for herself and needed round the clock supervision from someone other than my dad. It wasn't enough. We needed a new plan. The doctor was clear that my dad couldn't stay with her and take care of her, so I looked into 24/7 hour nursing. I had no idea how much it cost and when I realized that $28k or so a month would be needed, we realized there no way we could cover this for any significant period of time, even with a portion offset by long term care.
We were lucky enough to have a family member that was a former nurse who was willing to come down for a time to stay with my mom. The good news was by this point, my mom did hear one thing from her doctor - that she needed "24/7 care," so we explained that we'd get her home on two conditions - (1) we had to wait till the family friend could get into town; and (2) she needed to do the doctor recommended cognitive evaluation with a neuropsychologist. She agreed to both.
The day after she did her neuro exam, she went home with our family member and has been home now for over a week. My dad has been couch surfing, trying to keep it together. It took a week but we received the neuro results and they confirmed what we thought we already knew but were nonetheless still devastating - severe vascular dementia. This, combined with an MRI they had done in the psychiatric ward, were enough for the doctors to recommend we pursue guardianship because she doesn't have capacity and can't make any of her own decisions, which we're doing now on an expedited basis. In the meantime, my mom has been up and down at home, and my dad has ridden the waves with her. He'll think she's turning a corner with a nice text or two to him but it will turn out she just wants help with her phone and if he spends a bit of time with her, she'll eventually turn on him - back to the same accusations. She's also taken some of his things and thrown them out near the trash, including his pacemaker monitor.
A couple days back, the neuro doctor walked my mom through her report and despite all the evidence to the contrary, my mom told me the report was "GREAT" (she noted she doesn't have Alzheimer's, which it seems is true, but vascular is no better from what I can tell; and perhaps worse in ways!). Given she was able to sit with the doctor and hear the results firsthand, I thought I could explain to her the severity of what was going on and why we needed to get her the care she needs but she just won't hear it. She thinks the doctors have told her she can either go into Assisted Living or get 24/7 care - that's not true at all. I've tried to explain that those two things are mutually exclusive, but again, she's not having it. She wants no part of memory care and believe me, if there was any way we could do this without having to put her into memory care, at least for some period of time, my whole family would be all for it. We don't see any alternative at this point.
The horrible thing is that if she won't go voluntarily, I think our only option is to call 911 and have her taken in once the guardianship has gone through. This breaks all of our hearts. I don't think my dad can do it. I don't know if I can do it but I know I may have to do it. My only solace is that our family member with her now says her quality at life at home right now is not good. She is either shuffling around the house "organizing" at all hours of the day and night, or on her phone (we believe making notes to herself that we're not sure she even saves). We all believe that in a facility over time, she may begin to socialize better and given how high functioning she is, even find some purpose and meaning in helping folks out who are suffering differently than she is. She's always been generous with her time and service-oriented (until this disease started to take all of that away a couple years back now that we realize what it was). We also think she'd benefit from excursions with us and others out of the facility for meals/events etc. if we can get her more stable.
I've read some incredible stories in these threads but wanted to share ours in the case it could help someone who might be going through the same things but also to see if there's anything we're missing? We feel we've explored every feasible option and our hands are tied at this point. I'm sick to my stomach all day long worrying about this and wake up almost every night trying to decide what to do. It's taken over all our lives. I welcome any feedback.
(*Note that I haven't given a ton of detail on the behavioral issues but suffice it to say that there's no possibility that my dad could look after her, at least right now. It's not safe for either her or him for the same reasons it wasn't that Easter Day. I also worry about any other caregiver as each person who has tried to help has become the subject of her ire and if they don't bend to her every request - take her to superfluous dr appts, hair appts, the phone store to check her phone which she never thinks is working properly, etc. - they will have hell to pay for some period of time.)

I (32 f) live with my boyfriend, Jay (33 m) and his best friend Autumn (37 f). I apologize for the long story, and I need your advice. I met my boyfriend, Jay, online. We knew each other for several years before we dated long distance. I moved across the country to be with him in 2022, and moved into the apartment he shared with Autumn. I knew in advance that Autumn and Jay had been intimate before he and I had ever dated, and that he had cut any romantic or intimate things off with her. Autumn was the final approval for me moving in with them. There was trouble from the day I moved in. Her cat did not get along with my cat. It caused an explosive fight between myself and Autumn, because she was very protective and defensive. Autumn has mental health issues she faces, and I struggle with cPTSD and anxiety. This made communication almost impossible between the two of us, and wedged Jay in between us. To make things worse, her car died. I fronted the money to buy her a $2000 car. She never once made arrangements to pay me back, though Jay promised that they would do so. (Over one year later she has not paid back one penny.) Jay lost his job and she worked less than 20 hours a week, so I became the provider. I paid all but $180 of rent, I paid for the food of 3 people. I never placed blame. I never complained. In fact, I made him a resume and helped him job hunt.
Jay got a job and I was able to borrow from my 401k and I purchased a home (only in my name) in 2023. Jay pays for Autumn’s expenses, such as a major car repair, tire replacements, etc (I believe he feels obligated since she cannot afford anything on her wages). I agreed to allow Jay and Autumn to both move in. If I did not agree to allow Autumn to move in, she would have become homeless, and I couldn't bear to be the cause of something like that. Autumn agreed to pay rent of $400, which is extremely affordable for our area, or any area for that matter. She was unable to pay more than $200 in rent for the first three months we lived in my home. She could not afford food. She couldn't afford anything.
Meanwhile, there are several explosive meltdowns between Autumn and me. After facing years of abuse from family and my ex, I am unwilling to tolerate poor treatment. Boundaries are something Autumn struggles to understand, and continues to struggle with, even after we had passed one year of being roommates. Jay is very defensive when it comes to Autumn, and feels in debt to her due to prior relationship choices. He is very hesitant to acknowledge that there is a problem, and basically pictures that she will forever live at his side.
Autumn now has a new job. She can now pay her $400 rent but that is basically it. Jay and I pay for the food for 3 grown adults. He still pays for major incidents that come up for her.
I am at my breaking point. The most recent issue between Autumn and myself is noise because I work from home. I am a very quiet person, the type to listen to my phone on the lowest volume setting. She is a very loud person on a good day, and lately the noise has become very disruptive. She's the person listening to her devices on max volume. I have made moves to alter my office to help keep noise out, like hanging up hooks for a noise dampening curtain on my door, putting a fan on for white noise, listening to music, and it often isn't enough even then. I cannot alter my space any further. Now it is on her. And yet, this has caused a big fight when I mentioned it and asked her to be respectful. She tells everyone (Jay and her online friends) that I must prove myself to be different. She's convinced I'll kick her out at a whim like her abusive father (despite that the law says I would need to give her 30 days notice minimum). I can hear everything she says, considering her whisper is a normal person's raised volume level. Autumn likes to tell her friends things about me, like how I must be jealous of her. She is really good at hurting my feelings. I take pride in being a caring and giving and kind person. I'm feeling taken advantage of.
At this point, I have grown very resentful. All this time she has worked less than 30 hours a week. I work close to 50 hours to support us. She wakes me up several times a month being loud in the mornings. She continues to have an issue with her volume. She has a blow up fight with her friends, injures her knee, is out of work for two weeks… it all just piles up on me. But I'm the rude one, the cruel jealous girlfriend who won't give her a break. I am sick of it. I can't even have an intimate relationship with Jay for his fear of her being hurt about it or something (he doesn't want to elaborate). I don't know what to do. Side note: Since I am always at home, I'm confident there's nothing romantic between the two of them.
Her lease is up in November and I just don't want her to renew. I want her to move out. I am afraid that when I tell them this, Jay would be very hurt, and would disagree, and Autumn would be vindictive. I'm at the point where my relationship is suffering and I am burnt out and exhausted every day. In the past when I even hint at this, he has been very dismissive and doesn't want to talk about the potential of having her move out. At this point, I'm afraid I'll have to break apart my relationship to get this woman out of my life. How should I approach this with Jay?

I am 33 days sober. I was not necessarily a problematic drinker - if I drank, would have 2-3 drinks max, maybe 4-5 if I was out e.g. for dinner and a concert, or at a wedding. I didn't drink every day, but I drank regularly.
I am still trying to understand my impulse to want a drink sometimes. In the last month, I have been in many situations where people are drinking. Sometimes I have FOMO, sometimes it doesn't bother me at all. It is fairly easy to ignore any impulse to drink on my own - the only time that really happens is when it is super nice out and I think "a beer outside would be nice."
I never liked getting drunk, just having a few drinks at most. So I am trying to understand what I even miss. I am starting to think the reason I like drinking is because it allows me to be more present/easily satisfied with whatever I am doing in the moment.

• If I am with friends, I feel more content to just sit around and chat when I am drinking. Sober I feel a bit more on edge- like, are we gonna do something orrr.....? Should we wrap this up?
• If I am working, sometimes in the evenings on a big project I would have a glass of wine or two and I found it really helped me to power through some more bulk-task aspects of my work (I am a graphic designer), and even helped me be more creative at times. I find it harder to get into a flow state and keep falling in an and out of focus when I am sober.
• If I am watching a movie, I find it easier to quiet the other thoughts in my head when I have a glass of wine. When I am sober, I am 'watching' but thinking about how the laundry needs to get done, the email I need to send etc etc. It is very hard to be present.

Does anyone else feel this way? Is there another substitute or mental approach to solve this?
Thanks for any help.