Headache neck ache fever

I recently was hit on the head by a car park barrier as I didn’t realise I was walking in the wrong place! It knocked me unconscious and I felt really stupid when I came round. I had to go to A&E and was told I had severe concussion and whiplash. I have suffered with debilitating headaches ever since and my left eye aches all the time! My friends keep telling me the barrier should have sensed me walking underneath it and the barrier that hit me has been turned off ever since does anyone know if they are sopposed to detect people or not ?

Particularly during cardio, or a hard training session I find my headache gets worse behind eyes, in sinuses, temples (sometimes top of the head) and jaw will throb sometimes.
My jaw literally pops when I yawn, I wake up feeling like someone was pulling on my teeth.
I’m assuming this is TMJ related as once the workout is over and body relaxed headache dissipates and I’m left with a stiff neck and sore upper neck muscles and at back of head.

If you scroll through my post history, you will see that me and my parents already have ongoing issues. Cannot be bothered to make a throw away because I'm fuming.
I (20 FtM) have had horrendous stomach issues since I was a child. They stemmed from food abuse in foster care, as well as food abuse from my adoptive parents. I gained a fair bit of weight last year from psychiatric medications and was overweight. My adoptive parents (AP- for future references) did not like that. Everyday it was a constant comment of "we can't see your knees anymore" and "when are you going to lose weight, we hate the way you look this isn't the "daughter" we used to love". They took maters into their own hands and put a bike lock over the fridge and locked the pantry. Every day before they left for work they would leave out very minimal food for me, sometimes they would forget and I would go hungry for 8+ hours while they were away. We live in the sticks, the nearest grocery store is 20 minutes away and the nearest McDonald's is 45 min. I was ravenous, but slowly getting back into disordered eating because of this. I have a history of EDNOS (eating disorder not otherwise specified) and usually restrict, but because of the meds I was binging. The forced starvation lead me back into a restrict cycle. A heavy, heavy restrict cycle. At one point in November I stopped eating, I didn't eat a single morsel of food for 8 days straight. When I finally had a meal, and went to sleep that night, I was awoken by a very sharp pain in my abdomen. The pain was a gnawing, burning ache in one spot of my stomach. It peristed for 20 minutes then went away. I brushed it off and had another meal the next night. Same pain, same duration. At this point it wasn't impacting my daily life so I brushed it off. Fast forward to about January, I left my home due to extensive ongoing SA from my AF and subsequently ended up homeless for a couple months. During that time getting food was extremely difficult, and was a struggle to fill my stomach. I slowly noticed my issues getting worse and worse. I caught covid around the end of February and had debilitating GI issues from that. A bit of more context, I have severe emetophobia (intense fear of vomiting) so any twinge in my stomach causes me to panic and restrict more food. Well lo and behold, I had caught the strain that messes up your stomach. This time I didn't eat for 9 days, I also stopped drinking. The only thing I had to drink in that times pan was a bottle of water and three bottles of Gatorade. I ended up in the ER after my fever reached 103, I got fluids. That restated my digestive system and I was releived that I could eat again. But that relief was short lived. I had intense, crippling nausea that wasn't going away. I ended up having to return to my AP's house and went to the doctor for the issues. I got a referral to GI, and the doctor put in a note that an endoscopy is best. By this time I had lost 90 lbs (240 to 150) since November. My AM, got upset and said that she was certain it was a mental block causing me to not eat due to my history of ED. I had a fight with them which lead to a horribly long "I'm going to evict you and put you back on the streets" process which ended in my AF sexually assaulting me once more to "build trust". After that the eviction process stopped (this was his plan, he backed me into a corner). After that night, likely due to the stress of another SA (makes 14 years of SA from him), my stomach revolted. Even worse nausea, severe abdominal pain. I couldn't tolerate foods anymore. I begged my AM to take me to the GI (the referall had been sitting for 4 months) she refused. She told me she "doesn't take me to specialists" and to find another way there. I did, I got my partner to take Mr a few days ago and immediately was scheduled for an endoscopy, a gallbladder ultrasound and prescribed 3 refills of 90 pills of Zofran 8mg. All of this took 10 minutes and I was out the door. Very short visit. At this time I am 148 pounds and still losing. This isn't intentional anymore and i would give anything to eat and enjoy food again. Fast forward to this morning, I woke up and started talking to my AM, the topic of food came up and I was lamenting about not being able to eat. I then suddenly snapped, I told her "if you had taken me to the GI months ago, I would have likely been on the mend around this time" she then said "you are over 18 I'm not entitled to do anything". That is a perfectly reasonable take however I reminded her of our location and how I can't drive (eplipsey, and vision, I literally am barred from driving) she told me that it's "on me" and it didn't matter anyways since my partner took me. I then reminded her that I didn't even know my partner before I had the referral to GI, therefore it did, in fact fall on her even in the slightest. I proceeded to tell her that if I was her transportation that I wouldn't have let her sit in pain for months and I would have taken her immediately, if the roles were reversed. She told me that I wasn't "entitled to do that" and I said 'I would have done it out of the kindness of my heart, like you should have done. You are my mother kindness doesn't stop at 18, loving someone doesn't stop at 18' she laughed and said it does, and that I'm in the wrong for expecting her to still be a parent after 18. I flipped my lid and told her off. I shouted at her, told her that this is cruel which she then said "the world is cruel, what does it matter". I said that even that was a heinous thing to say and was met once again with "you are an adult, I don't have to be kind nor loving to you". I got even more upset and reminded her that she has refused access to health care even when I was a minor. I told her how for 4 years she didn't take me to the doctors, therapist and even the dentist, because she "couldn't be bothered" she met that with "I did that to empower you to be a better adult when you turned 18". I once again screamed at her that is not something you do to someone who you "love". And like always she responded with "anyone else can see I'm in the right here, why don't you ask someone, they will say that everything I did here is correct and you are upset over nothing"
So per her request, AITAH?

Starting weight was 171lbs , I’m 5’3”. After two weeks I got down to 167lbs but I had to quit because of all the side effects I was having.
At first, I had insomnia on the very first night. I took my pill right before bed because I was so afraid to get nauseous during the workday. I’m usually a deep sleeper but I woke up twice almost every night to go pee and had trouble going back to sleep. Then, I started having nausea daily. I was prescribed Zofran which helped with the nausea but then I would get super constipated, therefore I had to take miralax. I got terrible headaches/migraines, therefore I was prescribed Sumtriptans to help with the migraines. I started having ringing in my ears that became unbearable. I would get anxiety and feel hot and sweaty on the back of my neck. I felt spacey, jittery and shaky. Then by the second week, I had globus sensation. I always felt like I had something stuck in my throat. No matter how much water I drank after the pills, I couldn’t get the feeling to go away. Then I had heart palpitations along with the anxiety. With all that said, I quit taking Contrave after 2.5 weeks. I lost 4 pounds but I don’t think it was worth feeling so terrible. I’m PA student and witnessed many patients losing weight and doing very well on Contrave but I guess it wasn’t for me. Some people push through the side effects, but I couldn’t. Good luck to those who are doing well with it!

My hands are trembling to the point where I've had to restart this several times. I'm a guy who doesn't scare easily, but this encounter has me shaking like a hit dog. I'm still sitting in my work truck, trying to work up the courage to step outside again. Worse, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my boss what happened. I was already on thin ice with him, and this shit might cause me to break through to the freezing water below.
But fuck it, because this was weird.
I install cable for a living. I didn't have dreams of stringing cable when I was a little kid, but my previous life choices left me with few options. In high school, I fell in with the wrong crowd. It started with skipping school, sneaking alcohol at weekend parties, and some petty theft, but it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, I dropped out and dedicated my life to committing robberies to pay for my pill addiction. I wasn't living as much as I was running on a treadmill. I did whatever I could to stay on my feet but constantly felt myself slipping.
My bottom came when I was jumped by two guys who sold me pills. I had bought from them before and trusted them, but the feeling was not mutual. Someone had dimed a buddy of theirs out to the police, and he was looking at real jail time. They assumed it was me and beat me senseless.
I was greeted at the door with a punch to the jaw that sent me reeling. My brain, already addled and slowed by Oxi, was in the middle of putting together what was happening when the next punch caught me in the temple. I collapsed to the ground and covered my neck and face as best as I could. The next few minutes were a flurry of punches, kicks, and stomps. When it was all over, I had a broken jaw, a shattered wrist, several wounds that required fifty total stitches, and a concussion.
That's how I kicked my painkiller addiction.
I can joke now, but the next six months were the hardest in my life. The withdrawals I had were the worst thing I've ever experienced. Having them while I was recuperating from my injuries was a circle of hell I didn't think existed. I wanted to die most days and felt lost in the darkness. But sobriety was the beacon on the horizon. Even during my darkest moments, I could still see the fuzzy spark of white light off in the distance. It kept me going. Six months from my beat-down day, I came out the other side healthier but weaker.
I needed a job but had limited skills. Thankfully, I had a former pill buddy who managed to keep steady employment with the cable company. We always got along, and he called in a few favors and hooked me up. I got hired, but it was a struggle. Not the work, which was easy to learn, but dealing with the public without telling them to fuck off. Worse, was trying to avoid the flood of illegal substances that are around you at all times. Customers will offer you weed or pills for all the channels, or bored co-workers will have something to "make the day pass by." It's a lot to dodge, especially if you're in recovery. Whenever I felt the itch again, I'd feel the scar tissue from my wrist surgery, and the itch would pass.
The last week has been one of those "Shit, is it Friday yet?" weeks that seem to be growing in frequency these days. I don't want to bore you with the details, but needless to say, most nights, I needed to reach out to my sponsor and have them talk me off the ledge. We recently had a turnover at the executive level, and my new boss Rory was a tremendous cock. A rager at levels science hasn't ever seen before. Just the worst dude imaginable.
Part of Rory's new crusade was coming in and firing a bunch of guys. The company called it "checking for redundancies in the labor force," but we all knew what it was. He was picking off two classes of people: high earners and guys with spotty pasts. I was in the latter group and imagined it was just a matter of time before my number got pulled. I was on pins and needles all week. I made sure I was the greatest cable installer you'd ever meet. So far, I was getting high marks but the forced joviality was wearing thin.
It's safe to say my joy had left on a one-way ticket. I have no clue when—or if—she'd return.
Back to this shit. I had just finished up my last job of the day when my work phone started buzzing. I cursed and thought about not answering, but the threat of unemployment loomed too large for me to do that. I picked up and knew from the jump my day was far from over. Denise from dispatch asked if I could cover a job left hanging because of "scheduling conflicts" (see: the original installer had been let go). It was near where I was and was a simple install.
I gritted my teeth and agreed. I liked Denise and knew she was worried about the hammer falling on her, too. She thanked me profusely, and promised to bring me cookies tomorrow. Since she's a hellcat in the kitchen and getting close to a dispatcher never hurts, I said no worries. I hung up, balled up my jacket, and screamed into it. I felt better after that.
981 Maple Street was about five minutes away, but it felt like a world away. Maple Street was at the end of the neighborhood where large swaths of grass fields faded into a thicket of woods. The woods rose up into the foothills until they graduated to mountains. To borrow a phrase from Shel Silverstein, the house resided where the sidewalk ends.
The house, an off-white birdhouse ranch type, was a little run-down but no worse than any of the others that populated this neighborhood. This place had been hit hard by economic times, and property values had plummeted. It was slowly recovering. In five years, this would be a place most current residents wouldn’t be able to afford. The front yard had a large oak tree that looked amazing but had killed the grass under its canopy. The rest of the yard looked well cared for.
I knocked and heard a few voices talking on the other side of the door. It opened, and a man in his late 40s stood there with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. He was tall and thin, save for a middle-aged paunch. His face was starting to crinkle at the edges, but he was southern California middle-aged, which meant he was holding up pretty well. He did look tired, though—the bags under his eyes were full-on steamer trunks.
"You with the cable company?" he asked, knowing I was.
I nodded. "You requested an install, right?"
"Yes, I did. Please, come in."
He opened the door wide, and I walked in. The house was pretty bare with a bachelor pad aesthetic. That didn't make much sense since I heard a female voice talking to him. I assumed it was his wife. I believe in a lot of wild shit, but to think that a wife would be fine with their house decorated like a 23-year-old bachelor lived there was a bridge too far.
"I'm Tom," the guy said, extending his hand. I shook it. "What did you need from my end?"
"Do you know if there was a previous hookup here?"
"Ugh, yeah. There is one in this room and another in the back bedroom."
"Okay. I should put the modem in a spot that'll hit the whole house. The signal can get wonky if it's in a room behind a wall or bricks or anything."
"This room is probably the best spot then," he said.
"Perfect. I have to get under the house, check the old connections, and replace some parts. Where's your hatch to get under the house?"
"Oh, it's around back. You can exit out this side door and walk through the backyard. It's on the eastern side. You might need a screwdriver to remove the grate. Do you need one?"
I pulled a screwdriver from my pocket and showed him. "I should be good. Thank you, though."
"I should've guessed you'd have one."
"I appreciate your concern. Is there anything in the backyard I should be worried about? Dogs? Kids? Wild dogs? Wild kids?"
It was standard banter, and it always got a chuckle out of people. Same thing happened here. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "You should be good."
"Alright. I'll get started so you can get online as soon as possible."
"Great! If you need anything, I'll be doing some work in the back bedroom."
I nodded and headed for the side door. The dining room door led to the pie wedge-shaped backyard, which was larger in the back than the front made it look. The grass was as cooked as its kin in the front, but islands of green weeds seemed to be thriving. In the corner of the lot, an old metal shed stood, rusted to the point where I assumed divine intervention kept it standing. It seemed to have been there since the house had been built – or maybe several decades before.
When I turned the corner of the house, I spotted a woman and child staring into the corner of the yard, their backs facing me. The Woman wore a faded blue dress that fit her well. Tom had, it seemed, out-kicked his coverage with her. I didn't want to startle them, so I offered a friendly "hello" to the pair. The kid started to turn, but the mother placed a hand on their shoulder and kept their heads facing away from me. I squinted along the treeline, trying to see what they were concentrating on, but I didn't see anything unusual.
Just wanting to be done with the job, I let them be and moved on. I turned another corner to the house's short side and spotted the grate leading to the crawlspace. The grate looked as old as the shed, and I wasn't sure I would even need the screwdriver to open it. Hell, I was sure the thing would disintegrate in my hands as soon as I touched it.
I crouched and was about to pull it off when I heard something rustling near me. I glanced back to where I had seen the mom and kid, but they were gone. I assumed I had heard them leaving. I pulled the grate off – I was right, no screwdriver necessary – and as I set it aside, something caught my attention out of the corner of my eye.
It was the kid. A boy around eight or so. But they weren't staring at me exactly. They were looking away from me, staring up at the roof line. I found it odd. Clearly, the kid wanted to talk to me but had turned their back on me. I coughed to let them know that I knew they were there, but they didn't respond.
"Hey man, what's up there?" I said.
"Nothing nice," he said, still keeping their gaze away from me.
"Oh," I said, "Not going to hurt me, is it?"
"Maybe," he said.
Not the answer I was expecting. "What is it?"
"They told me you'd know soon enough."
As he said that, I felt something crawling across my hand. I pulled my hand away from the house and shook it. I saw a spider land in a pile of leaves and scurry away. I let out a nervous laugh. I'm not scared of spiders or anything, but the shock of being told some unseen thing was watching me and didn't look pleased, coupled with the sensation of something on my skin, was enough to justify a quickened heartbeat.
I looked back at where the kid had been standing, but he was gone. I chalked it up to kids being little weirdos and went back to work. The faster I could get this installation done, the quicker I could go home and smoke a bowl. I let Kush be my guide. I put up my hood, turned on my small flashlight, and shimmied through the opening under the house.
I know guys who've worked for the company for years and still dread going into a crawl space. Granted, it's not my favorite thing to do, but I don't mind either. The bugs can be a nuisance but if you don't bother them, they tend to not bother you. Same with rats and mice. Raccoons, though? I crawl out and call animal control. Those little dudes are cute but nasty as all get out. My path today was nothing but cobwebs, so I was okay.
I flashed my light around and saw where the cable line went up into the living room floor. My job here was to ensure the coaxial line's integrity was still good. If it had been chewed on or anything, I'd replace it. Sometimes, I just replaced it anyway—saving myself a potential job later down the line.
I crawled over to where the line came in from the pedestal and started my once-over. I not only looked for any damage but also ran the line through my hands to make sure my eyes didn't miss anything. I was under the dining room area when I heard that side door close.
I stopped. Tom said something, but it was muffled. I wanted to be nosy, so I waited a beat to hear if anyone spoke back to him. Someone did. It was soft and quiet – I assumed it was the Boy – and I didn't make out what they asked, but I did hear Tom's response. In a firm voice, he said, "No, not right now. Run along."
There were footsteps over me that faded into another section of the home. Tom said, "He always wants to jump the gun. How many times do I have to tell him?"
I suppressed a laugh at the last line. It's the official father's lament. I kept moving my hand down the line and didn't feel nicks along the cable. In fact, on closer inspection, the line looked almost new. I was planning to change it, but this looked like it had been installed last week.
I could hear someone walk into the living room as I reached the spot where the line went through the house. Another pair of footsteps followed the first, and I heard a breathy but detached woman's voice ask, "Can we show our faces now?"
"I just told the boy 'no.' What makes you any different?" Tom said, an edge to his voice.
A chill raced through my body. I knew those words, but this conversation made me feel like I spoke another language. Can we show our faces? Why would you not?
"Do you think he'll see us?"
"If I have my way," he said, not finishing that thought. "Leave me be. I must try to get some things done before he leaves, and you two keep bothering me."
What did Tom mean to get some things done before I left? What did he have in mind? While trying to process all this, I heard something shuffle in the darkness just beyond my flashlight beam. I moved it around, trying to see the telltale glowing eyes of varmints, but nothing flashed back at me.
I heard something shuffling again, this time down by my feet. I cocked my head as best as I could and shone the flashlight into that corner of the house but, again, there wasn't anything else down here but me and a thousand spiders. I sighed and finished my inspection of the wire.
As I turned to crawl back out from under the house, I heard somebody sneaking around on the floor above me. The wood groaned as the person moved slowly. I wasn't sure what they were doing, but they wanted to keep it a secret. A shadow fell over the pinprick of light from where the cable went into the house. Someone was standing over it.
"Can you hear them down there? Moving in the dark?" It was the Boy. “They like the dark.”
"What are you saying?"
"The little shadows," he said, "They live down there. Do you hear them?"
This kid was creepy as hell. "I, ugh, I can't hear you, dude," I said, inching my body away from the wire, "We can talk inside."
"They're going to get you, but that's okay," he said, "It only hurts for a little bit, and then you're fine."
Fuck. That. I had no desire to respond to that nightmare of a statement. I hastened my inch-worming, heading back towards the open hatch. As I did, I heard more movement in the darkness around me. I tried to ignore it, but it was a fool's gambit. It was impossible to ignore.
I was getting closer to the opening when I saw a pair of tiny legs walk in front of the hatch. It was the Boy. How did he get there so quickly and without me hearing him run on the floor? I didn't have time to run through the scientific method because the Boy leaned down and placed the metal grate back over the hatch.
"Hey! Hey!" I yelled. "I'm still under here!"
The Boy didn't stop. Instead, he placed a trashcan in front of the grate, enshrouding the entire crawlspace in darkness and trapping me inside.
"Hey! I need you to move that!" I screamed. No response. I raised my fist as high as possible and punched the floor above me to hopefully get Tom’s attention. That was a mistake, as I managed to punch straight into an old nail. I felt it puncture in between my knuckles. The pain was instant, and I let out a howl.
I shook my hand and swore a blue streak. I reached up with my other hand, felt the tip of the nail I had managed to punch, and found a flat spot next to it. I banged hard on the floor and yelled again for some help. Nobody responded. Not at first.
Then I heard someone chuckle under the house.
I couldn't locate where it had come from because it sounded like it was all around me. I swung my light around as best as I could but didn't see anything. No glowing eyes, nothing. I inched forward a bit, and someone laughed again – this time, it was to my right. I turned my light in that direction and saw a sudden flood of light fill the space under the house.
"What the hell?" I said, my desire to leave overtaken by a desire to know what was unfolding next to me.
A pair of kid legs dropped down from the hole in the floor. I realized then that the hole must be an interior crawlspace. The kid had blocked off the metal grate and opened this hatch for some reason. While he dropped his legs down, he didn't move any further.
"Hey, you have to open that metal grate," I yelled. "I don't want to be trapped down here."
"They told me they needed you," he said, followed by a slight chuckle.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" I said, not caring that I was talking to a child. "Open the goddamn grate!"
"The shadows are approaching," he said, pulling himself back into the house. He placed the lid back on the hole, and I was trapped in the dark again. I cursed to myself and started pounding on the floor again.
"Hey! Someone come help me!"
That's when I felt something run across my legs. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It didn't feel like the tiny claws of a passing rat. It was cold to the touch, but as it hit my skin, I felt a burn in my bones. It's hard to explain, but I felt both extremes simultaneously. Whatever it was skittered off into the darkness of the other side of the crawl space.
The kid started laughing again, which brought me back to reality. I army crawled as fast as I could to the grate. I balled up my fist and punched in the middle of the metal. The blow knocked the old nails out of the wall, and the grate broke up. I was about to push away the garbage can when it suddenly wheeled out of the way.
I saw Tom's legs standing there.
"You okay?" he asked, concern in his voice.
I got out from under the house so fast that I left a me-sized dirt cloud in my place. Once out, I shook my body loose as if I had things crawling all over me. Tom watched but didn't say anything at first. We finally locked eyes, and he could see the rage, fear, and confusion on my face. He wisely waited until I spoke first.
"What the hell is wrong with your kid? He blocked me under there and taunted me from the indoor crawlspace."
"What are you talking about?"
"He told me the shadow people or something were watching, and then he blocked me under the house!"
Tom's face twisted up into confusion. "I...I don't understand."
"I can't make it any simpler, Tom!" I screamed, letting unprofessionalism take root.
"I don't have a kid."
It hit me like an Ali right cross. My vision got dizzy, and I struggled to catch my breath. I stared at his face, looking for the sign of a lie or a joke, but he was as stone-faced as an Easter Island statue. After a beat, I found my sense again. "I heard you talking to him in the living room when I was under the house."
"One, I was on a phone call. Two, are you spying on me? What the hell, man?"
"I wasn't spying, and you weren't on the phone," I said. I also heard you talking to your wife. She asked you if she could show her face or something."
"I don't have a wife either."
I shook my head. "I fucking saw them in the backyard! They were staring at the fence!"
Tom paused and cocked his head to the side. When he spoke, it was softly, trying to calm me down. "Are you...did you have a few drinks before the appointment? Or a pill or something? No judging – I know pill heads. I won't report you or anything, but I understand if you need to come back tomorrow with a clearer head."
"I'm sober," I said, gritting my teeth. "But I know what I saw. What I heard."
"As the tree said to the lumberjack, I'm stumped," Tom said. "You look a little flush. You want a bottle of water or something? I can show you I'm here all alone."
My adrenaline had seeped out of my body, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I nodded at Tom, and he smiled. "I'll go grab you one. Do you want to come into the AC?"
"No, I'm okay. I need to double-check the connection to the pedestal."
"Sure. Be bright back," Tom said as he walked off.
But I had no intention of checking the connections. I was going to check on Tom. I didn't believe him at all. Something weird was going on, and I needed to know what. As soon as he turned the corner around the house, I broke out my flashlight and headed back to the crawlspace.
I dropped to the ground and shone my beam into the darkness. Something had crawled on me, and I wanted to see what it was. I moved my light into every section of the crawlspace but saw no eyes glowing back at me.
"If you're under there, call back."
There was nothing. I was starting to feel like a paranoid idiot. I called out once again just to be sure, but again, nothing called back. I shut off my light and sighed. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I heard a faint woman's voice call out, "Can we show our faces now?"
"Not yet," someone hissed from the trees above me. I snapped my head up, expecting to see someone hanging on a branch over my head, but I just saw green leaves.
"Can we show our faces now?" It was the Boy. It sounded like he was on the roof. I shielded my eyes and glanced at the roof but didn't see him.
"No. He's not ready yet," someone whispered in my ear. I snapped around, throwing a punch as I did, only to slam my fist into the fence. I felt one of my knuckles crack as it hit the wood, and the pain shot up my arm like lightning. Within seconds, my hand started to puff up, and blood dripped out the wounds.
The Boy chuckled again. It came from under the house. I looked down at the grate and saw his legs disappear into the darkness.
"Hey!" I called and dropped to the ground. I pulled out my flashlight and shone into the darkness again. I was confident I'd see him, but he wasn't there. Nobody was.
I sat up and felt goosebumps turn my arms into braille. I glanced over to the corner of the house and was surprised to see the disappearing hemline of the faded blue dress. I rushed over to the corner and didn't see the Woman. I saw Tom with a bottle of water.
"You okay?"
"Where did that woman go?" I asked, my voice panicking. "She was just here."
"Sir, do you need me to call your boss for you? You're starting to scare me."
"What's up with this house? Is it haunted?"
Tom started laughing. "I hope not. I just moved in. I'd hate to have roommates again, especially ones who leave ectoplasm all over the place."
As I stared at him, I saw the Woman and the Boy emerge from the other corner of the house. They looked up on the roof, their faces obscured by their hands and the sun. I pointed a finger at them and screamed, "They're right there!"
Tom spun around and looked, but there wasn't anything there. He turned back to me, not sure what to say. Instead, he handed me the bottle of water. "I gotta be honest. I didn't see anything. Drink the water...you might have heat stroke."
I threw the bottle on the ground. "I don't have fucking heat stroke. I have a man that's lying about these things." I got close to him. "What did you have planned for me? Why do they keep asking to show their faces?"
"I don't," he said, but I didn't stay to hear him finish his thought. I walked right past him and turned the corner of the house. As I did, I saw the blue hem disappear through the door that led to the kitchen. I followed right behind her.
I walked into the house, which was as silent as a corpse. The Woman and Boy were nowhere to be seen. "Hello?" I called out. "I just saw you guys walk in here. Where are you?"
The door behind me opened up. Tom walked in, his face reddening with anger. "You can't just walk into my house."
"I saw them walk in. Where are they?"
"I keep telling you, it's just me and you here. Now, if you want to finish your work…."
I walked away from him and headed toward the bedroom where I had seen the Boy standing. I wanted to check that crawl space. The room was empty, not even a moving box in there, so finding the hatch that led under the house was easy. I went into the closet and pried the hatch open.
Tom entered the room behind me, more confused now than angry. "I don't want a line run through here."
"The Boy was standing in this spot. I saw his legs. I spoke to him. He told me the shadows needed me for something." I glared down into the darkness under the house. Despite Tom's feigned declarations that there wasn't another person in the house, I knew he wasn't being honest.
"Okay, I'm pretty sure you're back on pills and in the middle of a delusion," he said.
"How did you know I had a pill addiction?"
"The way you're acting, it wasn't a hard guess."
"I'm sober, but I did have a problem with pills. I never told you. I don't tell anyone."
Tom stood there, confused about how to answer. I stood up and stared him down. He looked away, but I didn't move my gaze. "Who are you? Who put you up to this? Was it Rory? He trying to get me fired?"
Tom's shoulders sagged. "You got me," he said. "Rory hired me to get you in trouble. I'm... I'm sorry. He offered me free cable for a year and assured me you were a bad guy and, well…. I'm weak."
"That's really fuc…," I stopped. "You're lying. Right now. You're lying. Why?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something dash past the open crawlspace hatch. I turned to the hatch opening and then back to Tom.
"Are you trying to stop me from looking in there?"
He didn't respond.
"What's under there?"
"He is," he said. "The Boy. He hides under there all the time. He has...friends down there."
"The shadow people?"
Tom shrugged, "What he calls them. I call them a menace. Impossible to get my work done with them causing a racket."
"What work?"
"Things you'd never understand in a million years," he said, "Things beyond your brain's capacity to imagine. Things that will help usher in a new world. Your kind's time is coming to a close. My work represents the new order."
I stared at him. I wasn't sure if I should run away or punch his lights out. Instead, I just spat out, "Bro, what the fuck?"
"Can we show our faces now?" the Boy called out from under the house.
I looked down at the hatch and then back at Tom. He nodded toward the opening. "Do you want to see your future?"
"Fuck it," I said. I got down, grabbed the sides of the opening, and lowered my head under the house.
I kept my eyes closed for a second, assuming I'd either see something horrifying or something would hit me in the face. When nothing struck me, I opened my eyes. It was dark, and I couldn't make out anything.
"There's nothing under here," I said.
"Can we show our faces now?" said the Boy from somewhere under the house.
"Show him," Tom said.
I sat back up, grabbed my flashlight from my pocket, and flipped it on. I looked at Tom, "If you try anything, so help me, God."
Tom just smiled. I looked back down at the hatch and sighed. I was suddenly hit with a bolt of common sense. What was I doing? My internal alarms were going off and I was ignoring them. Curiosity had gotten me this far, but my fight instincts were starting to lose to my flight. No job was worth this.
"Man, fuck this," I said, reversing course and standing. I turned to confront Tom, but he was gone. I hadn't heard him leave, but there wasn't a trace of him there. "Tom? Where the hell are you?"
He didn't respond, and I decided that I had hit my "weird shit" quota for the day. I closed the closet door and headed back into the living room to grab my gear. I'd call dispatch and tell them someone else had to come out and finish the….
The wood floor cracked, splintered, and gave way when I put my weight on it. I fell through the floor and landed with a thud on the dirt in the crawl space. On the way down, I hit my ribs on a crossbeam and heard them crack and knock the wind out of me. As I lay on the dirt, writhing in pain, my lungs did their damnedest to find a breath. It couldn't, and my vision started to blur at the edges. For a fleeting few seconds, I envisioned my death on a dirty crawlspace floor. It wasn’t comforting.
I rolled onto my back and finally took in a massive gulp of life-saving air. The blurring vision subsided, and all that remained was the aching pain of a busted rib. My muscles around my rib cage spasmed and pulled tight against my lungs. After the initial big breath, I could only take shallow gulps because the pain was searing.
I lay there for a few seconds, collecting my thoughts, when I felt something skitter across my legs again. I kicked out of instinct but didn't hit anything. Instead, I heard the chuckling again. My flashlight had fallen out of my hand. I found it and turned it on.
This time, I did see something. Pairs of eyes—dozens of them—watched me from the darkness that surrounded me. These weren't possums or rats. I never hoped to find a raccoon under the house more than I did at that moment. I knew whatever these things were, they weren't natural and they wanted to harm me.
"Still want to know what they plan to do to you?" the Boy asked from behind me.
I turned around and shone the light where I heard the voice. The Boy was lying on his stomach, his face looking down at the ground. All I could see at the moment was the top of his head.
"Wha-what's going on?" I said, the light bouncing from my trembling hand.
"I can show you my face now," he said. He raised his head and….
The Boy didn't have a face.
He had the space for a face, but there were no features whatsoever—nothing but pale pink skin pulled tight across the front of his head. At that moment, the image of a wooden art figure came to me.
“What the ever-loving fuck?"
"Want to see something really scary?" the Boy said, his lack of a mouth not stopping him from speaking. He raised himself onto the tips of his fingers and toes and started skittering toward me, laughing as he did.
I clambered out of the crawlspace as fast as my battered body could carry me. I got out of the hole and onto my feet and let out an ear-splitting scream.
The Woman in the blue dress was standing next to the hole in the floor. Like the Boy, she didn't have a face either. But I could feel her eyes on me. Looking into my mind. Into my soul. She stepped toward me, and I bolted for the front door.
I whipped it open and was greeted by Tom standing there, blocking me. He grinned. "Leaving so soon?"
"What the hell is going on?" I asked, checking behind me to see if the Woman was still coming toward me. She was, and she was gaining quickly.
"Can we show our faces now?" he asked with a laugh.
I turned back to Tom and nearly had a heart attack. His face was gone. I could feel my heart beating in my ears. My legs were jelly, but I kept myself propped up. The human desire to survive can perform miracles.
Tom reached out and pointed at a spot on the far side of the living room wall. I turned and saw three skinned human faces hanging from old nails: a man, a woman, and a boy.
"You're turn to join us," Tom whispered. But the voice wasn't said out loud. It came from inside my own head. "We can always use another body around here."
My brain clicked into action and sent an all-points bulletin to my limbs. The message was simple and actionable – "Get the fuck going, you dope."
I felt my hand ball into a fist and spun. It landed where Tom's nose would've been. It should've knocked him back, causing him to stumble and giving me time to run. But that didn't happen. Instead, his face pulled apart, letting my fist slide right through. It closed on my arm, trapping me.
I yanked and yanked, but my arm would not dislodge from his face. I glanced back and saw the Woman nearly next to me. The Boy was climbing out of the hole, moving like a cockroach. I looked back at the wall and saw Tom's hanging face silently laughing.
Something about those silent laughs cut me to my core. They were laughing because Tom thought he had outsmarted me. He had beat me. That my face would soon be hanging on the wall next to theirs. I wasn't going to let that happen.
I saw a loose brick on the walkway, and a plan flashed in my mind. I yanked hard, sending Tom stuttering forward enough for me to wrap my finger around the brick. I brought it up and sent it towards his face. As expected, the face parted again, and the brick flew through easily.
But as soon as the face curtains pulled aside, I yanked my arm free. With my limb free, I took off in a mad sprint for my truck. I got inside and fumbled my keys as I tried to start the engine. Tom, the Woman, and the Boy stood together at the front door and watched as I got the van going and rocketed down the street.
I drove like a madman for ten minutes, trying to put as much space between me and the house as possible. I finally stopped at a gas station to collect my thoughts. I was jittery, and my mind was swimming, but I was also relieved. I had gotten out.
I collected myself and called Denise to tell her I couldn't finish the installation at 981 Maple Street. I was going to suggest we cancel the order and not send another installer there. That's when the conversation took a turn I wasn't expecting.
"Where have you been? You were supposed to be off an hour ago," Denise said when I called her.
"I was trying to finish the install at 981 Maple, the one you sent me to."
"I didn't send you anywhere," she said. "With how insane Rory is being about overtime hours, I'm trying to keep everyone below the threshold."
"What are you talking about? You called and asked me. You don't remember," I said, a bad feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.
She gave me a nervous chuckle, "I swear I didn't. Are you feeling okay? You gotta come back. People are waiting for the van."
"I can prove it. I have a record of you calling me on my phone," I said. I opened my call log, and my jaw dropped. There was no call from Denise. She was telling me the truth. But if she didn't call me, who did?
"Rory wants to talk to you when you get in. I wouldn't mess around, he seems pissed" she said before hanging up.
I haven't moved since. I wanted to write this down because I felt like it needed to be recorded. Something supremely fucked up is happening at 981 Maple Street. It nearly got me. It still might. To think, on any other typical day, a surprise conversation with my boss would be the scariest thing that could happen to me. Funny how seeing a faceless ghoul can prioritize your problems. If you're hired to do work there, turn it down. Trust me, it's not worth it.
"Can we show our faces now?" they asked. "Fuck no," should be the only response.

How can you tell the difference between normal hangover induced anxiety and alcohol withdrawal?
For context I’m 21F and have been drinking excessive amounts every weekend/every second weekend for about 7 months. I woke up yesterday after a night of heavy drinking to a pounding headache I’ve never experienced before when just normally hungover with just added symptoms like shakes/fevepanic attacks/brain fog which felt much more severe then any other hangover I’ve had. Once I calmed myself down a little the fever and headache stopped probably about 20 minutes after it initially started. It’s almost been 24 hrs since my last drink and I’m slowly coming round - shaking has eased a little and the headache has eased off but I’m still left with pretty extreme dizziness/brain fog and panicky feelings I have a history of panic attacks and I called the nurse on call and she didn’t seem to worried about anything but if I’m starting to feel a little better at almost the 24hr mark would this mean I’m going to go into severe withdrawals or would this just be a severe hangover? I’ve been told I’m going to be okay as I’m not a chronic everyday drinker just drink excessive amounts once a week/every second week but I still get these really panicky feelings and I’m not sure if the mild shaking and brain fog I have now is linked to just anxiety or if it’s something more serious or if I need to be a chronic drinker to start experiencing real withdrawal symptoms I don’t know if the symptoms I had earlier has triggered me to get panic attacks along with symptoms or if it’s something more serious

Hello all,
I apologize this is a lot but I feel like this is important to me so if anyone wants to read it and chime in based on personal experiences, that would be great.
I've recently been experiencing some problems within my head which I'm going to be getting looked at by a neurologist just to be safe but it's mainly been visual snow, tension headaches (specifically on top of my head/neck tension) & pressure in my forehead, trouble concentrating/focusing, sleep issues, and short term memory issues.
When I explained this to my Therapist, she recommended a psychiatrist because I may be dealing with DP/DR. While this may be true, I decided to see a lady my girlfriend's family has been going to all their life who has spiritual connections and prays over people who need prayer. This lady knew nothing about me beforehand and began praying over me. She told me to sit and immediately told me that she can feel that I'm suffering internally because I haven't had the chance to talk properly about whatever trauma I recently experienced, that it's okay to cry because I need to let it all out as it's causing me to constantly be in my head.
What she said feels true, I began to question if CBT Therapy is doing good for me or if it's caused the issues I'm facing now. My CBT Therapy started the first week of March and have been on a weekly basis around 30 mins each session, over the phone. The average session is her asking me how I'm doing, what I did during the week, and what I'm doing over the weekend. If I tell her odd sensations I've experienced out and about, she gives me methods to overcome them (mainly breathing techniques or like, typical therapeutic/mindful thinking techniques). Then, we're done and when we get off the phone, I don't feel like anything was accomplished... it's like general conversation you have with someone you've never met before.
I'm wondering if this has caused my brain to repress a lot of memories and timelines from the incident until now. I can recall the event, but, the flashbacks I was having are gone and the overall thought of the event are pretty much nonexistent. It's like it was shoved in the back of my head because the talk therapy is heavily focused on putting it behind and moving forward - which I think could be why I'm experiencing those symptoms mentioned in the first part of this thread. Should it not have been more focus on talking about the incident, allow me to be emotional and talk about it, then give me support on navigating through it going forward? Not immediately driving the focus of the future with general social conversations to make me forget about it immediately?
Timeline of everything: 1/29/24 the incident happened, 2/15-2/18 I went to CO to visit friends, 2/19-2/22 I had the flu or something, 2/23-2/26 My birthday weekend, was in bed that entire time unable to eat and felt out of it, 2/29-3/4 I felt better and my parents came to visit. 3/5 I started therapy. About 3 sessions later on forward, everything has just been progressively getting worse for me in my head. I recently had a severe panic attack, 2 days later, my mind is now blank and I feel like I'm living on autopilot with no real thought process behind anything.

Hey everyone. Just wanted to see if anyone has had similar symptoms to me. I am hoping to be eligible for endoscopic posterior cervical surgery and am awaiting appointments with surgeons.
My MRI results are:Cervical cord is normal in size and intensity. Intervertebral disc heights are maintained.
C2-3: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
C3-4: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
C4-5: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
C5-6: Small to moderate right paracentral and subarticular disc osteophyte complex results in mild spinal canal narrowing. Unconvertebral osteophytes result in moderate right and mild left foraminal narrowing
.C6-7: No spinal canal narrowing. Unconvertebral osteophytes result in mild right foraminal narrowing. No left foraminal narrowing.
C7-T1: No spinal canal or foraminal narrowing
I have bilateral pain that is mainly aches and spasms down shoulder blades, trapezius, chest, posterioside/front shoulder, bicep, serratus anterior, armpits, elbows, forearms, and into all fingers (mainly in middle 3 fingers though). Pain is similar on both sides of body. My research shows that C6 nerve root shares a lot of anatomy with c5 and c7 and can differ from person to person.
I have had some zingers in my neck (scalene area) but don't have a lot of neck pain in general. It's definitely progressed over the last 5 months as we originally treated it as a shoulder injury in physio and chiro. I don't really have muscle weakness but lots of pain/twitches. I have gone numb in the forearms in ring/pinky fingers at night a couples times when sleeping on the ground or with arms on body but no numbness other than that. My flare ups generally happen when I used my arms too much or carry things that are too heavy. A couple occasions at night I have felt like someone was cutting into both shoulders right on the nerve (10/10 pain for sure).
I am on Pregabalin which takes the edge off but doesn't get rid of pain completely. I am looking in the USA and Germany for opinions as it takes forever to get in with someone in British Columbia, Canada.
Has anyone had similar experiences??? Just wondering if all of my symptoms sound like they make sense. I have attached some pictures of my MRI for your viewing. Much appreciated.

"I was raised Irish-Catholic, never talk about your feelings. Tell 'em you're fantastic."
Before this journey started, I wasn't religious. I wasn't spiritual. I identified most readily with Buddhist teachings, and tried my best to think of Pema Chodrön's teachings shared from Trungpa Rinpoche. I had received cd audio books from my father after an attempt over 10 years ago. "Don't Bite the Hook" and "Getting Unstuck."
You see, when you attempt to rid yourself from the world there will be no shortage of those trying to tell you the problem isn't YOU, it's the tether. Remove your tether, release your burden, be free. Life felt like the lead around my neck, not attachment. It's funny. I don't think I understood the distinction until a stranger on omegle asked with all earnestness afforded them through anonymity:
"Ya but the reason you can't off yourself is other people, right?"
But I tried my best to understand, to let go. I did the body scans, the mindfulness meditation, the nature bathing, the yoga, the journaling, and the gratitude exercises. But I kept getting stuck. To bad places, bad people, bad situations, etc. Each one removed more and more of my faith in my ability to get unstuck. I accumulated more trauma over the years while navigating misdiagnoses of both mental and physical nature. I behaved in ways I scarcely understood to contain fires I couldn't see, moved through life as if every inch of me were aflame. Immolation through inaction. I had experienced so much pain, so much invalidation, so much erasure. My empathy ruined my lens. I couldn't see people mistreating me when the ghosts of the people who hurt them stared into my consciousness.
Sometimes I fell in the codependent trap of trying to "fix" them. Sometimes I just sat beside the monster and put an arm around them. "I know you didn't start out this way. I know you don't have to end this way. There's a choice, a different path. This isn't YOU." Was I talking to the parts of myself I saw in them? Or was I merely crafting the narrative that kept us most comfortable? I'm still not quite sure.
Why am I finding the words I need in works of Christianity equally as in works from Atheist/non-theists? I understand the concept that the Universe is all of us, everything. That resonates with me and feels "correct" but I keep getting slapped in the face with signs/syncs aligning with Christ/resurrection/redemption/the holy trinity.
I want to scream out for you. I want to come over for coffee and talk your ear off about all of these questions I'm having. I want to know how you arrived at your faith. I never got the chance to ask. I saw the cross around your neck on that first night and told you "it's okay, I've dated religious boys before." You gave a half-hearted chuckle and said, "well, I believe in A God." As if to say "not the one you're used to/thinking of." I didn't question it further as I figured it was too early for something so heavy.
But you don't want that, and I have to respect it. I replay you taking off your cross before each time you laid me in your bed. I know it's because fucking with jewelry on is a bad idea, but at the time it felt like I was too dirty to touch with your faith hands. Like you needed separation between your light and dark before it touched all the dark inside of me.
The first time we broke up, after I had that huge emotional reaction after sex- I wish I could have explained then what I know now. You released stored trauma in my hips. All those tears welling up in my eyes were from years before you arrived.
"It's in the blood, it's in the blood I met my love before I was born He wanted love, I taste of blood He bit my lip, and drank my war From years before, from years before
"Not even my parents love me," I cried. I felt horrified for having said it without knowing why. I realize now I was saying:
"why do you love me when there is nothing worthy of it here?"
So when you said "I love you" and I said "you don't mean that do you?" your silence was appreciated but it broke me.
I have never been touched the way you touched my body, heart, soul. I think I cried so hard because a part of me knew I was having sex with someone I loved. It didn't make sense and it terrified me. Despite having a string of long term relationships, this felt different from all of them. I felt you permeate all of me. Some days I still feel it. I ache for your skin on mine.

So I start out the year with really intense headaches, neck pain, dizziness, tinnitus. The headaches feel like needles wrapping up the back of my head into my forehead- so I go to a neurologist who first tells me I may have a dissection in my vertebral or carotid arteries.. so he gets MRIs and MRAs.
Then he tells me he found two small brain aneurysms, but to not worry because they’re small. So of course I worry, i worry for a month with zero insight until I can’t take it and I schedule an appointment to go see one of the top neurosurgeons in Boston- who tells me no, they’re not brain aneurysms they’re just normal variations of veins.
Meanwhile I’m still getting these headaches, dizziness, nausea so the same neurologist says he saw a bulging disk at c4-5 and a fully protruding disk at c6-7 and that the symptoms probably aren’t from that but he would write me a referral for physical therapy. So I go to physical therapy and start making moderate progress until they have me doing deadlifts where I was told “don’t focus on posture your body will self adjust” so I do and then injure my neck even worse than when I went in.
So I go to acupuncture since at this point I’m having such severe headaches that I’m throwing up and having to call out of work. On top of that I’ve got a flare up of gastritis because I accidentally ate gluten because I didn’t check the beef jerky for wheat(which I’m not supposed to do with celiacs)
The acupuncturist (she’s licensed with LAc and a health insurance referral) I go to used a technique I can only describe as a mix between dry needling and acupuncture- well, she punctures my chest wall, I get a pneumothorax within 15 min of leaving and my left lung collapses.
Now I’m sitting here with pain in my chest from the pneumothorax, unable to sleep because of my neck pain, and in just unreal pain and I have literally no idea how to solve it but I have to go back to work in two days because I don’t get PTO and I’m fee for service.

I was in a pretty bad accident yesterday all the airbags in my car deployed. I am 12 weeks pregnant and had my 4 year old in the car. Luckily we are all okay I am the only one with minor injuries including airbag burns on my face and just overall body soreness. I started getting a pretty severe headache last night on the left side of my head. I can only take Tylenol due to the pregnancy and it’s really not going away at all. I can’t remember all the instructions they told me at the hospital no one was there with me to help me and I was a managing my 4 year old while still being in shock. I also woke up with bad neck pain on my right side. Should I go in or is this expected the day after an accident and go in if it’s not better tomorrow? I’ve never been in an accident before and feel lost

Hi everyone, a brief introduction: I(26M) had tonsilecotomy this February, bled a lot and my hemoglobin dropped from 150 to 70. Got one pack of RBC and 5 days of Tranexamic acid to prevent further bleeding. When I finally got discharged, three days into bed rest I developed calf pain and it turned out to be a thrombosis. Luckily it was a small one and resolved after two weeks of Apixaban. Two days ago were my three months on it and I stopped taking it. Did some thrombophilia blood tests all came negative, and there are few to do after the discontinuation. Sorry for a big of an intro but I just wanted to ask if anyone had similar experience? Hematologist says it was definitely provoked but I am still scared of DVT reoccurrence. Did anyone had any other diagnostic assessments? Also to put few things regarding Xarelto and Eliquis if anyone deep searches this thread in future: - Xarelto gave me mega indigestion and violently burping symptoms. - Eliquis kept my neck joints ache and gave me weird crepitus but it was manageable and eventually went away after discontinuing it.
Thanks in advance! ♥️

After reading posts here, I’m wondering if I have IIH or something else.
I do not have headaches per se, but I have pressure pain when standing up, bending over, exertion, or tilting my head quickly.
I have dizziness related to head movement.
I have pulsatile tinnitus in one ear and only hear it when I’m lying down on that side.
I have regular tinnitus constantly and have had for a couple of years.
I have had a couple of visual auras (like when I had hormonal migraines in my youth).
This all started in November of 2023, except the regular tinnitus.
I’m a 64yr old female, BMI of 26, and I did a 6-month course of isotretinoin 2yrs ago. That worsened my vision but it recovered somewhat. It also caused neck and shoulder pain that has never stopped.
My PCP ordered an MRA to rule out tumor or aneurysm. It was deemed normal, no findings.
PCP had me try Elavil; no change, then amitriptyline, also no change.
I’m seeing an ophthalmologist this week, and have a neurologist appointment scheduled for September.
Has anyone else had symptoms similar to mine with no headaches but only pressure pain tied to head movements?
Honestly I could live with this if I knew my vision wasn’t in danger.

Ebv , bladder pain , pelvic floor dysfunction
So ebv is sometimes called a mystery virus it has no cure. In my case, my pcp, and I believe that ebv has gone into my bladder and also weakened my pelvic floor muscles, which caused me a lot of suffering. I have many of the similar symptoms people have. On daily vit D and 1 g valganciclovir and monitor it's levels every like 6 weeks. I was looking for answers for very long, and I share many of your other symptoms like waking up exhausted, night sweats, fever, body aches, sore throat .... it's all slowly improving I hope and since ebv infections are so complex we are stuck trying medicine and hope it calms down.
Posting this to see if anyone else has IC that's causedb by EBV and also anyone else who suffers from. pelvic floor issues and bladder pain every day.

I started getting CU 9 months ago. When I start to feel hot and pins and needle sensation in my neck and ears I pop a children's Allegra 12 hour 30mg. The CU will be gone for exactly 12 hours. At the 12 mark the CU symptoms return with a headache. I'm question do you think the headache is from CU or the antihistamine

I started 25 MG of Zoloft Generic on April 1st and was upped to 50 MG on May 5th without side effects. My GP and I agreed to stay on 50 MG as it leveled out my Health Anxiety 100% and OCD 50% - still have thoughts, can talk myself out of the compulsions.
This past Wednesday, I picked up 50 MG refill and noticed it looked different (blue instead of white with a stronger odor). I assumed it was a different Generic.
Three days later, Saturday, I started to have mild cramping / diarrhea around 10 AM - six times total and it’s now 12:30 on Sunday (last bout was four hours ago). No other symptoms (ie, sweats, fever, chills, aches). Do any of you feel it can be from the different Generic? I already emailed my GP.
Diarrhea, in general, is very uncommon for me.
i suppose it could be a small stomach virus or food poisoning, but my wife is perfectly fine.
any thoughts?

My sister has pneumonia for a couple of weeks. She’s okay now and I saw her yesterday. Obviously that’s not enough time to catch it and u was feeling unwell yesterday.
I’ve got the worst body aches, a cough, my head is fuzzy, and my nose is really dry but also really snotty. Oh and my throat is all dry and scratchy too. My chest hurts but not in like a chest infection way, just aches like the rest of my body
My mums telling me it’s just a cold but nobody else has had a cold, nobody has been ill, apart from my sister whose had pneumonia recently
My mum went over to my sisters a couple of times when she was really ill to help her out
I don’t think I have a fever but I was really cold this morning
Thing is my sister vomited for a whole week with her pneumonia
I am terrified I’ll be sick regardless of that this illness is
I don’t really feel sick but I feel like that general unwell feeling. Malaise or whatever they call it? I’ve not eaten anything today as I’ve not really been hungry
Mums getting pissy saying it’s just allergies but I wouldn’t have such bad body aches if that was the case
I’m trying to stay hydrated and I think I feel slightly hungry now but I also feel really gaggy because of all the snot down my throat lol

i’ve been vape free for 11 days now and the neck and head aches are still just as bad (throbbing pain). i don’t know what to do. i also have neck spasms occasionally. when will this go away?

Tales from beyond the pulsing door presents: The Man With Square Teeth
The inaugural installment of TBPD and the inspiration for the series. The man with square teeth is based on a true story, artfully extrapolated. Listeners are encouraged to re-listen to this episode as additional entries are published. For those interested in the grand plot of TBPD, this episode will be your anchor. For all others, enjoy!
This story is available via audio narration on Tiktok, Instagram, Spotify, and Youtube. Just search: The_Pulsing_Door
***
I find it strange sometimes, the way someone can get a feeling that crawls alongside them. The sort of…feeling of “being watched” as Buggs Bunny would put it. It’s amazing – we all experience it. And then we tell each other that it’s imagined. I don’t believe in the supernatural because I’ve never seen proof, but there are times where the logical side of my mind does battle with the irrational. This is a tale of one such time.
It started when I got a dog. A floppy little chicken nugget with ruby hair and an inescapable smile. At the time I was living in a gated community – not the nicest of places, but enough sidewalk to get my little pup some exercise. Puppies require multiple walks a day, sometimes within the same hour. January 14^th was the first time I took my dog for a walk past the patch of grass that changed my life.
We (the dog and I) were walking along the sidewalk. The glow of dusk had just faded into the silent blanket of night. Him, sniffing and snorting; trotting in front of, beside, and behind me. And me, mostly making sure that I didn’t step on his tail. Then it hit me – like a needle in the back of my neck. I felt…a presence. I snapped up and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the lights of an apartment pop on. All of the lights. All at once. It took about five or six seconds for me to understand what was happening – it was the model apartment. The one the leasing office shows to people who are interested in renting. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my walk. What a strange coincidence – that I would turn my head just in time to see those light go on.
The very next evening it happened again. It must have been the same exact time. I couldn’t believe it. But it happened again. The feeling, the look, the lights. This time I was a little more prepared, so it was nowhere near as startling. Yet for some reason, rather than moving along, I felt compelled to look in to the apartment. The blinds, all of the blinds, were drawn such that I could clearly see inside of any room I chose. Looking through the sliding screen door I could see the living room most clearly. It was pristine. The walls were bright and white, like a hospital room. The couch was eggshell and unscuffed. On the brown ottoman sat a tray with some fake silverware, a plate, and a French press. A tasteful sheepskin rung, standing lamp, and light wall décor rounded out the room. It was uncomfortably neat. It was the sort of set up you would expect to see in a 1950s home – a place for everything and everything in its place. But why? Why did it have to be so neat? What consequences awaited anyone who would dare disrupt the pristine setup? I was rambling to myself, so I shook it off and moved on.
For a third night (January 16^th) I passed by the apartment again. It was well into the night, and the lights were off this time, which admittedly brought me some comfort. I walked passed the sliding screen door, satisfied. On the way back home I deliberately retraced my steps. As I passed the apartment again, it happened. The lights came on. A chill shot down my body. There was the same setup, perfectly untouched. The lights couldn’t have been on a timer. The past two nights they came on at dusk. The moon was high in the sky this night. So why did they come on? And why do they continue to come on as I walk by? Are they on a motion sensor? If so, why didn’t they come on the first time I walked by? I had had enough of my own questions, and I decided it would be best to take a different route on my evening walks.
A few days went by and I forgot. But then the strangest thing started happening. I don’t remember the exact date it began to happen, but gradually, I found myself gravitating back toward the apartment. Suddenly every night I was walking by the same sliding door. And not on purpose either. In fact, some nights I would deliberately avoid the patch of sidewalk that led past that brightly lit, sterile living room; but for whatever reason I would lose my train of thought, or get distracted. And there it would be. The 20 foot stretch of sidewalk, beckoning my footsteps. Calling me.
Over time my thoughts became more invasive – more erratic. I began to picture the creature that would dwell in this plastic, contrived apartment. I remember one night I stared straight into that screen door, hypnotized, imagining his manifestation. I couldn’t help but picture him in my minds eye. There he would be sitting on that eggshell couch. Dressed well. Clad in a 50’s style pinstriped suit, a bowtie, and a bowler derby hat. And he had always been sitting there. Right there. Clear as day for anyone who focused hard enough to see him. But something was wrong. It was all wrong, in fact. The suit fit him too well. The tie draped straight out from his neck. There was no separation between the hat and his hairless head. Was he even wearing clothes at all?
I leaned in closer. His eyebrows were drawn on…perhaps with marker. His skin was pale and powdered. He sat on the couch staring straight ahead, such that I could see his entire side profile. He had no nose. He had no eyelids. I’m not sure if he understood that people blink. My thoughts raced as my imagination filled in the rest of his structure. His hands were in what appeared to be pockets, but there was no beginning or end. They just faded into his upper thigh. He had no lips. The skin was there, but they lacked the pouty blush that distinguishes lip from skin on the human face. This was a ruse. Why put on such a show? Why even try to convince me that you’re human?
I was ready to leave and keep walking, but my shoes felt as if they were cement. I couldn’t stop staring into the room, picking apart my imaginary man, desperate to make sense of his anatomy. Then something unexpected happened. I lost control of my imagination. What had once been a translucent delusion was now a solid figure sitting before me. Expressionless, he craned his crooked neck in my direction. His head was a perfect 90 degrees east, the remainder of his body completely perpendicular. Slowly, a forced, trembling smile came across his face, exposing 32 perfect squares, residing in his mouth. They were not curved like the human mouth. The angles of his smile were impossible, they made no sense. An the teeth…oh god the teeth – the teeth were perfectly straight, and perfectly square. The same bleached, hygienic white as the walls. And there he sat, impersonating a smile, as if he believed that I would feel less threatened. It was as though I could melt right through the screen door and join him had I wanted. And I felt compelled to. Why did I want to sit down with him?
After what felt like hours I snapped out of my trance and shuffled off, surely leaving my dog quite confused. I checked my watch – I had only been stuck in that fever dream for a minute or two. It was as if time stood still when I was perched in front of that apartment. I didn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t get those teeth out of my head. Or the smile. Raised eyebrows, crinkled cheeks, the blank spot where a nose should be. It was awful.
I never looked in that apartment again. I would walk past it, despite my best efforts, and note from the corner of my eye that the lights were always on now – even in the day time. I would pass it at night, the living room lamp’s hum somehow audible form my position. Most nights, in addition to the blinding light emanating from the apartment was a blurry dark figure in my peripheral. I dare not look directly through that sliding screed door. What if he was actually sitting there? What if my imagination hadn’t run wild? What if I turned to look and found a horrid creature staring at me, waiting to catch my glance? What if all he needed was my attention to lure me in? What if that smile was real?
A few months later I moved. I never had to walk past that dreaded apartment again. I thought that would be the end. But I’ve never been a hard sleeper. Many nights I’ll wake up and, just for a moment, feel the presence of the man I’ve seen before. Even as I write this now I can picture him, sitting quietly, waiting. I dream of him sometimes. In most dreams he can’t see me. But once in a while he can. And I know that he can because in that moment it happens again. My feet become heavy, my eyes gloss over, and the turns to show me his two-dimensional, uninterpretable smile. I fear that no matter where I go, or how many years pass by I will be unable to escape him. The man who quietly haunts the corners of my darkest delusions. The man with square teeth.

Tales from beyond the pulsing door presents: The Man With Square Teeth
The inaugural installment of TBPD and the inspiration for the series. The man with square teeth is based on a true story, artfully extrapolated. Listeners are encouraged to re-listen to this episode as additional entries are published. For those interested in the grand plot of TBPD, this episode will be your anchor. For all others, enjoy!
This story is available via audio narration via the following links:
TikTok
YouTube
Instagram
Spotify
***
I find it strange sometimes, the way someone can get a feeling that crawls alongside them. The sort of…feeling of “being watched” as Buggs Bunny would put it. It’s amazing – we all experience it. And then we tell each other that it’s imagined. I don’t believe in the supernatural because I’ve never seen proof, but there are times where the logical side of my mind does battle with the irrational. This is a tale of one such time.
It started when I got a dog. A floppy little chicken nugget with ruby hair and an inescapable smile. At the time I was living in a gated community – not the nicest of places, but enough sidewalk to get my little pup some exercise. Puppies require multiple walks a day, sometimes within the same hour. January 14^th was the first time I took my dog for a walk past the patch of grass that changed my life.
We (the dog and I) were walking along the sidewalk. The glow of dusk had just faded into the silent blanket of night. Him, sniffing and snorting; trotting in front of, beside, and behind me. And me, mostly making sure that I didn’t step on his tail. Then it hit me – like a needle in the back of my neck. I felt…a presence. I snapped up and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the lights of an apartment pop on. All of the lights. All at once. It took about five or six seconds for me to understand what was happening – it was the model apartment. The one the leasing office shows to people who are interested in renting. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my walk. What a strange coincidence – that I would turn my head just in time to see those light go on.
The very next evening it happened again. It must have been the same exact time. I couldn’t believe it. But it happened again. The feeling, the look, the lights. This time I was a little more prepared, so it was nowhere near as startling. Yet for some reason, rather than moving along, I felt compelled to look in to the apartment. The blinds, all of the blinds, were drawn such that I could clearly see inside of any room I chose. Looking through the sliding screen door I could see the living room most clearly. It was pristine. The walls were bright and white, like a hospital room. The couch was eggshell and unscuffed. On the brown ottoman sat a tray with some fake silverware, a plate, and a French press. A tasteful sheepskin rung, standing lamp, and light wall décor rounded out the room. It was uncomfortably neat. It was the sort of set up you would expect to see in a 1950s home – a place for everything and everything in its place. But why? Why did it have to be so neat? What consequences awaited anyone who would dare disrupt the pristine setup? I was rambling to myself, so I shook it off and moved on.
For a third night (January 16^th) I passed by the apartment again. It was well into the night, and the lights were off this time, which admittedly brought me some comfort. I walked passed the sliding screen door, satisfied. On the way back home I deliberately retraced my steps. As I passed the apartment again, it happened. The lights came on. A chill shot down my body. There was the same setup, perfectly untouched. The lights couldn’t have been on a timer. The past two nights they came on at dusk. The moon was high in the sky this night. So why did they come on? And why do they continue to come on as I walk by? Are they on a motion sensor? If so, why didn’t they come on the first time I walked by? I had had enough of my own questions, and I decided it would be best to take a different route on my evening walks.
A few days went by and I forgot. But then the strangest thing started happening. I don’t remember the exact date it began to happen, but gradually, I found myself gravitating back toward the apartment. Suddenly every night I was walking by the same sliding door. And not on purpose either. In fact, some nights I would deliberately avoid the patch of sidewalk that led past that brightly lit, sterile living room; but for whatever reason I would lose my train of thought, or get distracted. And there it would be. The 20 foot stretch of sidewalk, beckoning my footsteps. Calling me.
Over time my thoughts became more invasive – more erratic. I began to picture the creature that would dwell in this plastic, contrived apartment. I remember one night I stared straight into that screen door, hypnotized, imagining his manifestation. I couldn’t help but picture him in my minds eye. There he would be sitting on that eggshell couch. Dressed well. Clad in a 50’s style pinstriped suit, a bowtie, and a bowler derby hat. And he had always been sitting there. Right there. Clear as day for anyone who focused hard enough to see him. But something was wrong. It was all wrong, in fact. The suit fit him too well. The tie draped straight out from his neck. There was no separation between the hat and his hairless head. Was he even wearing clothes at all?
I leaned in closer. His eyebrows were drawn on…perhaps with marker. His skin was pale and powdered. He sat on the couch staring straight ahead, such that I could see his entire side profile. He had no nose. He had no eyelids. I’m not sure if he understood that people blink. My thoughts raced as my imagination filled in the rest of his structure. His hands were in what appeared to be pockets, but there was no beginning or end. They just faded into his upper thigh. He had no lips. The skin was there, but they lacked the pouty blush that distinguishes lip from skin on the human face. This was a ruse. Why put on such a show? Why even try to convince me that you’re human?
I was ready to leave and keep walking, but my shoes felt as if they were cement. I couldn’t stop staring into the room, picking apart my imaginary man, desperate to make sense of his anatomy. Then something unexpected happened. I lost control of my imagination. What had once been a translucent delusion was now a solid figure sitting before me. Expressionless, he craned his crooked neck in my direction. His head was a perfect 90 degrees east, the remainder of his body completely perpendicular. Slowly, a forced, trembling smile came across his face, exposing 32 perfect squares, residing in his mouth. They were not curved like the human mouth. The angles of his smile were impossible, they made no sense. An the teeth…oh god the teeth – the teeth were perfectly straight, and perfectly square. The same bleached, hygienic white as the walls. And there he sat, impersonating a smile, as if he believed that I would feel less threatened. It was as though I could melt right through the screen door and join him had I wanted. And I felt compelled to. Why did I want to sit down with him?
After what felt like hours I snapped out of my trance and shuffled off, surely leaving my dog quite confused. I checked my watch – I had only been stuck in that fever dream for a minute or two. It was as if time stood still when I was perched in front of that apartment. I didn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t get those teeth out of my head. Or the smile. Raised eyebrows, crinkled cheeks, the blank spot where a nose should be. It was awful.
I never looked in that apartment again. I would walk past it, despite my best efforts, and note from the corner of my eye that the lights were always on now – even in the day time. I would pass it at night, the living room lamp’s hum somehow audible form my position. Most nights, in addition to the blinding light emanating from the apartment was a blurry dark figure in my peripheral. I dare not look directly through that sliding screed door. What if he was actually sitting there? What if my imagination hadn’t run wild? What if I turned to look and found a horrid creature staring at me, waiting to catch my glance? What if all he needed was my attention to lure me in? What if that smile was real?
A few months later I moved. I never had to walk past that dreaded apartment again. I thought that would be the end. But I’ve never been a hard sleeper. Many nights I’ll wake up and, just for a moment, feel the presence of the man I’ve seen before. Even as I write this now I can picture him, sitting quietly, waiting. I dream of him sometimes. In most dreams he can’t see me. But once in a while he can. And I know that he can because in that moment it happens again. My feet become heavy, my eyes gloss over, and the turns to show me his two-dimensional, uninterpretable smile. I fear that no matter where I go, or how many years pass by I will be unable to escape him. The man who quietly haunts the corners of my darkest delusions. The man with square teeth.

I wake up early in the am with migraine that goes up the back of my head over tonthe front of my face/sinuses, oftentimes following using weights or lifting laudably up and down stairs to apt laundry room, or rain to snow. I’ll have very really tight neck and back. Stretching doesn’t help. Sometimes an Advil and a Tylenol together will be enough but if they don’t, I take the Nurtec and it seems to change me from feeling my neck and back is like a wooden board to normal, along with relieving the headache.

hi all! don’t really know where else to post this but i’m really looking for some guidance or suggestions if anyone’s had a similar experience!
to keep it short; last night around 11:45pm, my boyfriend (21) was in bed, fully awake, while i was in the bathroom quickly. during those 5 mins i was gone, my little sister asked me if she can grab something from my closet, which she did. my boyfriend remembered her coming in, saying hi, and watching her leave. after that is where he doesn’t remember anything, but he just immediately knocked out.
he was unconscious but fully breathing! honestly looked and seemed like he was just in a deep sleep, but i knew he was wide awake just before. so i tried calling out to him, nothing. then tapping, nothing. shaking until the shaking became aggressive, still nothing but he almost starting “snoring” and his breathing and bpm increased sooo quickly, only thing that ended up waking him was me lightly hitting the side of his face (i’m a lifeguard so it mimics what i’d do for unconscious wake up..).
upon waking he was extremely confused and immediately kept saying his whole body was tingling and numb; starting from his toes and making its way up the whole body - though this only really lasted a couple seconds.
the ONLY thing he can remember about how he felt right before going out, was that he got a quick and sharp pressure-headache in the low back of his head (just above where neck connects to back of skull) and simultaneously above his right eye (sinuses) where he felt like he had to shut them as it was so much pressure.
but most concerning to me was he was then hit with a sudden amnesia-like state, where he couldn’t remember what my house looked like at all (we were at my parents house, but he is at mine 24/7 other wise so definitely weird), even a after showing him pictures of it. as well as my new tattoo that he has been rigorously taking care of for me since wednesday as it’s on my middle back.
the symptoms seem to have subsided and nothing else has happened since (mid morning next day).
he’s not a very emotional person, but was in a fit of sobs because of this ‘episode’ of sorts. really freaked him out not being able to remember things that are so second nature to him.
if anyone has had a similar experience or knows what could’ve caused something like this please let me know :) thanks!!