I have jaw pain sometimes on one side feels numb, ankles hurt ,when I drink something and I open my mouth it shuts automatically Been having constipation I’m actually freaking out because I think I have rabies. 17M, no medication diagnosis ocd

I’m aware that this is unconventional. Believe me, I’ve tried conventional – it didn’t end well for anyone. I require a certain open mindedness that I’m hoping I might find here, but more importantly, I need my future husband to know the rules. Meet-cutes are well and good on the screen, but they don’t guarantee a partner’s ability to follow basic instructions. That was my mistake the first time.
So, begging your pardon for my bluntness, I’m going to be clear about my requirements. Please read carefully – if you can’t meet them, there’s no point in going any further.

• Must want children. At least one child, anyway. I’m open to the idea of more, but one is an absolute must.
• Must be in it for the long haul. Until our child turns eighteen, to be precise. I understand that level of commitment is a daunting prospect, particularly when we have not yet met. After our child is born, you are welcome to ignore me, if you please, or take your pleasure elsewhere – though I will warn you that it might be difficult to come by. But you will live under my roof until our child is an adult.
• Homebody preferred. It will make the next two decades easier on you.
• Must have impeccable manners. I will provide a manual outlining the required etiquette, but you must at least have a grasp of basic courtesy to begin with. If you let your tongue run away with you, or don’t bother to wish your neighbours a good morning when you pass them in the street, stop reading – this is not the opportunity for you. Seriously.

This is the part where I should talk about myself, but let’s face it, this is hardly a romantic proposal. I require commitment up-front and there’s no guarantee that, once we do meet, we’ll really even like each other. If we do? Fantastic! It’ll help the years fly by. If we don’t, you’ll still have the main prize – years of rent-free, expenses-free living at The Old Oak Hotel.
A sanctuary has stood in this spot in one form or another since before the ley lines. During its tenure, it has been flooded, put to the flame, and pounded into dust. Time and again, it has been reimagined and rebuilt. Most of the current building dates back to Victoria’s reign, though the oldest parts were constructed in the 13^th century. At the very bottom of the garden, cut into the surrounding hills, there is a cave bearing handprints of red ochre.
There has always been an Edwards at the hotel, though of course we haven’t always gone by that name. You would think a family so tied to one place would do a better job of keeping records, but no one is certain of our origins. Perhaps it was a cosmic bargain, or perhaps mere luck – whether good or bad, I have never been able to decide. Either way, our presence is required. Throughout our spotty past, there’s a story here and there of an Edwards deserting their post, and it always coincides with a particularly brutal period of history.
I inherited the position five years ago. At midnight on my eighteenth birthday, my parents took their already-packed suitcases and left. I don’t blame them for their abandonment; I intend to one day do the same thing to my – or, hopefully, our – child.
They send me postcards and photos from time-to-time, always smiling on sunny beaches. Money isn’t a concern for them. That’s part of whatever mysterious deal our ancestors made – when a caretaker leaves in good-standing, they will never want for anything again. They could travel the world for the rest of their lives, always sleeping in the softest sheets and dining in the finest restaurants, and never find their pockets empty.
Keep this point in mind, for if you can meet my requirements, you will share my good fortune.
And what must we do in return? I can all but hear you scream the question. Why, very little. The presence of an Edwards ensures that the guests can’t stray from the hotel grounds. Most of our guests are live-in residents, though we do get the occasional walk-in. Where they come from, I don’t know, for we are not visible to most people who stumble upon our lonely corner of the world. I’ve come to believe the hotel chooses to reveal itself when its lacking entertainment, or to fill a need.
Jimmy, my first husband, was one such guest.
For the most part, the guests are harmless. They’ll give you a little fright from time-to-time, popping out from a wall or turning your bathwater into blood, but I find it hard to hold it against them. I’ve found twenty-three years here dreary; I can’t imagine how bored I would be after five hundred.
There are a few exceptions you should be aware of:

• Eric. Our resident serial murderer. He claims to have been Jack the Ripper while he still drew breath, but I think he’s just a blowhard. He knows better than to harm an Edwards, but I’m afraid spouses are fair game. Years ago, my grandmother managed to confine him to the fourth floor, so you will be perfectly safe from him as long as you never set foot there. Occasionally, the lift will stop on that floor even though you haven’t pressed the button for it. Do not get out. Even if the lift appears to be on fire or starts filling with murky water. Wait for the doors to close again, then go to another floor. It should only take a few hours.
• The Thing in the Cellar. I don’t know what It is; no one ever has. We only know It eats rats and must be fed once a day. If I’m ever ill or incapacitated, this task will fall to you. Harvest the rats from the traps in the garden, then stand at the cellar door and throw them down the stairs. Do not walk down the stairs and do not forget to feed It. You don’t want to be the first person to see Its’ face.
• Mrs Jones. Old fashioned and a stickler for manners, she’s the reason I’m advertising for a husband rather than a boyfriend. She won’t abide a couple living in sin under the same roof as her. Really, though, she’s a sweet old thing. Full of stories about the war and always ready to help if I get stuck on a recipe. I don’t blame her for what happened with Jimmy at all. I’d warned him enough times.

Guests aside, there are other rules you will need to follow to ensure a safe, satisfactory stay at The Old Oak Hotel. They are listed in a book that has been re-penned many times over the centuries. If you choose to accept this opportunity, I will insist that you read it until you can recite the pages word-for-word.
However, there are some rules so critical for your survival that I feel compelled to list them here:

• With the exception of the fourth floor, you are welcome to roam the hotel and its grounds as you please. But you must never set foot outside of our land – not until our child is old enough to fulfil their duties. If I were to do so, it would unleash pandemonium – plague, peril, perhaps another world war. I’m afraid you would be less crucial to the fate of the world, but it would certainly be a personal disaster.
• Never look in the mirrors in room 33.
• I’ve touched this point already, but it bears repeating: never be rude to Mrs Jones.

Failure to observe that last rule is what got Jimmy.
She doted on him. I think he reminded her of her long-dead son, for she pampered him as if he were one of her own. Each morning, she had breakfast ready for him before I had so much as opened my eyes, and she developed a habit of trailing along after him, complimenting his skill as he oiled rusted hinges or set a crooked picture straight.
At first, Jimmy basked in the attention. But by the end of his second month, he was growing bored of Mrs Jones, me, and the hotel itself. We pride ourselves on our facilities. If you need more activity than a turn around the garden, we have a lovely indoor pool – it freezes over every now and then, but most of the time it’s perfectly usable. Our library is unmatched. Although the room is cramped, it has every book imaginable; you only need to think of a particular title, and it will appear on one of the shelves. And now that I’ve dragged us kicking and screaming into the 21^st century, we have a wide array of streaming services.
It wasn’t enough for Jimmy. He wanted to go out – eat in a restaurant, watch a film in the cinema, see any faces other than the ones he was surrounded by every day. He began having a drink each evening. One drink turned into several, and after a few weeks, the bar became his permanent residence between dusk and midnight.
He wasn’t the only one getting bored. I had been thrilled when he first arrived; ecstatic when he agreed to stay. How marvellous to feel real flesh beneath my fingers after five years of only the dead for company. What a relief to have some assistance in the many tasks required to keep the hotel running as it should.
The more he drank, the less inclined he was to help – or even spend time in my company. He no longer visited my bed, choosing a room for himself on the opposite end of the floor. When our paths did cross, at best he would ignore me. At worst, he would nitpick or outright rail against me, blaming me for his captivity.
Still, I made an effort to be present whenever he frequented the bar. As lovely as Mrs Jones can be, she does have a tendency to nag. Before and after her death, she was close to teetotal, only consenting to take a single sherry at Christmas, and drinking outside of special occasions is something of a bugbear of hers.
“Think of your health, dear,” she would tell Jimmy brusquely. “You’ll miss it when it’s gone.”
Or, “How about we switch to a nice apple juice now? You’ve had quite enough to drink for one night.”
Most of the time, Jimmy managed to pull himself together enough to flash a charming smile and distract her with a compliment about her latest meal. But after one drink too many, I’d noticed him gritting his teeth and just barely managing to hold his tongue.
It was better if I was present. Playing the doting wife, I insisted on pouring his drinks, watering them down out of his sight. When Mrs Jones’s nagging bordered on relentless, I could always distract her with a game of gin rummy.
On his final day, I was running behind. The ghoul on the second floor – usually the least demanding of our guests – had come down with some dreadful illness, or else decided he wanted to inconvenience me. Either way, I had woken that morning to the foulest stench I had ever experienced. I followed it to his room and found every surface covered in putrid green-blank gunge, its consistency somewhere between mucus and vomit.
All day I scrubbed, taking only brief breaks to step outside before I fainted. By the time the room was restored to a passable state, and I had filled several bin bags to bursting with filthy rags, it was already deep into the night. Mindful of the time, I paused only long enough to wash the streaks of muck from my arms and face before racing to the bar.
I arrived just in time to hear Jimmy’s last words. After he spat them at Mrs Jones, she only stared for a small eternity, her mouth frozen in the motherly smile she wore whenever she scolded him.
Then, like melted wax, her face began to shift.
I shouted at Jimmy to run, but he didn’t need to be told. Before the words left my mouth, he leapt from his barstool and streaked through the door. Mrs Jones followed him seconds later. Her lips were already peeling back to reveal rows upon rows of long, wickedly sharp fangs, while claws sprouted from beneath her lace-edged cuffs.
I sprinted after them, but Jimmy was fuelled by fear and Mrs Jones by whatever force propels the Mrs Joneses of the world. I followed the screeching to the lobby. Breathless, I arrived to see he had arrived within mere feet of the entrance before Mrs Jones grabbed him.
Claws wrapped around his throat, she lifted him into the air. As I watched, her jaw unhinged, the lower part dropping so that it was nearly level with her chest.
That sight drove all the sense out of my head. Forgetting every rule my parents had ever drilled into me, I lunged at her.
She batted me away as though I weighed no more than a fly.
I crashed into the reception desk, the breath bursting from my lungs in a great woosh. I was certain that I would die, for no amount of effort seemed to force air back into my aching chest. At last, as my vision began to dim, I managed to take a small gulp – then another, and another, until I was able to draw myself together enough to regain my feet.
By that time, Mrs Jones had nearly finished her dinner. Jimmy’s chest was splayed open, muscle and shattered ribs protruding every which way from his flesh, and she was devouring the last few bites of his heart.
His head was angled towards me. The light had winked out from his eyes, but they still held his final terror – and an accusation which, I was quite certain, was directed at me. I would like to say I felt only horror, but I couldn’t help my sudden jolt of irritation. How may times had I told him to mind his manners?
Mrs Jones gulped, the sound thick and wet in her gullet, and dropped what remained of Jimmy to the floor.
Then she turned to me.
Here’s another rule for you, one which I hope you never have cause to use: never interfere with a kill.
The Mrs Jones who used to kiss my grazed knees, who argued with my mother for the right to read me bedtime stories, was no longer at the wheel. No amount of pleading or reasoning would move her.
I could only run.
Spinning around, I vaulted over the reception desk and raced for the office behind it. If Jimmy had not been out of his mind with fear and booze, he might have remembered the rules and survived; it was one of several staff-only rooms throughout the hotel warded to keep out unwanted guests.
Just ten steps from desk to door, yet it was the longest journey of my life. My hard-won breath burned my throat; my heart pounded in my ears, deafening me to all other sounds than Mrs Jones’s heavy, pounding footsteps.
Grasping the handle, her hot, copper-tanged breath was on my neck. Fire exploded in my flesh as she raked her claws down my back. A step further away, and I wouldn’t have made it; the pain would have been too great. But I managed to throw myself into the office and slam the door before crumpling to the ground.
Before I passed out, I heard her grunting and shrieking outside, furious that she couldn’t get in.
Three days I spent in the office, emerging only to feed The Thing in the Cellar before scurrying back to my hiding place. Whenever I left, I tried not to look at the mangled heap that used to be Jimmy. There was no avoiding the smell, though.
With no small difficulty, and the help of a first aid kit, I managed to treat and bandage the wounds on my back. They bled sluggishly all throughout the first day, but thankfully didn’t fester.
On the morning of the fourth day, there was a tentative knock on the door followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. I waited until they had disappeared down the corridor before cracking the door open. On the floor was a freshly baked Victoria sponge and a beautifully written note of apology.
It took every ounce of courage I possessed, but that evening I forced myself to go to the dining room. Mrs Jones was waiting for me, her eyes red-rimmed, a steaming cottage pie on the table. I tried not to flinch as she took my hand, re-iterating the apology she had already delivered in writing.
The next morning, she helped me clean Jimmy up.
We treated each other cautiously for a while, but eventually we got back to playing gin rummy again. When the scars on my back twinge, as they sometimes do, she helps me rub a soothing ointment into them. Even though I’ve told her it’s not necessary, she apologises every time.
So, you’ve heard my story and you have my proposal. If you think you could be the man for me, I invite you to visit. You will need to drink a cup of ram’s blood (a pinch of nutmeg makes it a little more tolerable) and light a black candle before bedtime. When you next wake, you will find yourself at our gates. As travel arrangements go, it’s hardly the Orient Express, but it beats the airfare.
If you have read this without flinching, if you can stomach the journey to get here, if you walk up to our door and find the nerve to open it, I have one more instruction for you.
Just as you enter, look to your right. You will see a deep brown stain on the lobby carpet. I’ve scrubbed and scrubbed but it just won’t come out. Perhaps that’s for the best. It’s a good reminder of what will happen to you should you call Mrs Jones a “nosy old bat”.
And when you run into Jimmy – as you will, for he still likes hanging around the bar in the evening, his silvery wounds glistening as though they had just been inflicted – don’t let him convince you he was some sort of victim.
He knew the rules.

I, a 45 yo female, had my bottom two impacted wisdom teeth removed in the mid '90's around the time of my braces treatment. I don't remember much about it other than waking up during the surgery, to loud radio music, the surgeon and nurses talking and laughing, and a couple of cuss words amongst their conversation. Then I blacked back out. I also remember having an allergic reaction to either the pain med or the antibiotic, but since I was taking both, I don't know which one caused the reaction.
When I had the first surgery, there was no reddit, no widely used internet. I had no one to advise me, other than my surgeon and orthodontists' offices, which I of course didn't spam them with my fears, I just followed their post-surgery instructions to the letter. There were no other young adults around me having their wisdom teeth removed. My parents and other family had had theirs out two decades earlier. I was seemingly all alone and freaking out about whether I was healing normally.
Fast forward to 6 days ago, I had my upper wisdom teeth extracted. They'd erupted long back with the lower ones, and were fully grown in. In fact, they'd been in so long, that with no lower teeth underneath them, there was no opposing force to keep them from moving slowly down further and further. My dentist told me they may stop moving downward, or they may eventually start to touch my bottom jaw bone, and when that happens, I'd definitely need to have them removed. He recommended it 12 years ago when I first started seeing him, because he said all they do is catch bacteria and start to decay. But I held firm that as long as they weren't causing problems, I didn't want to go through another surgery. I was able enjoy to not worrying about dry socket for 25 years since they erupted. Until this year when they both developed small cavities.
Now, here I was, this week terrified of getting dry socket. Everything was a breeze up until day 3 when my pain gradually got worse, and I just about freaked out. I started re-reading my current post-op instructions, reading every dental website I could find, and I came into this sub. I was convinced my blood clots just didn't form at all (because nothing had fallen out). All of my fears were being laid out by other people every hour of the day. I got plenty of answers and personal experiences to help me relax and realize that if I'd developed dry socket, I would KNOW IT.
I found out that days 3 and 4, or for some people 4 and 5, are the worst for pain, and that it can take up to 48 hours for anaesthesia to be processed fully out of the body. No wonder days 1 and 2 were such a breeze. I was very worried that at my "advanced age" (although 45 isn't old!), I might have a more difficult healing period.
So far, so good. I'm on day 6 and seeing the swelling in the sockets finally reduced to where I can see in the holes, and I can see the last remnants of the blood clots in both of them now. I'm taking my ibuprofen 3x a day. Sleeping well. Eating mashed potatoes, apple sauce, strawberry shakes, yogurt. So far, my healing is right on schedule.
Just want to let everyone know I think it's really great that we have so much information online to refer to, to find comfort, see pictures, to get our questions answered. Take the positive stories that you read here to heart. Yes, it's scary. Try to relax, follow your instructions, and consult your surgeon or dentist with any problems for the answers that fit you specifically, because they really are the ones you need to be ACTUALLY listening to. But geez it is so amazing to have this sub!! Best of luck to all of those going through this now and in the future. Happy healing!
There's a great informational website called Animated-Teeth that I read over and over all weekend long.

Anyone have any stories about fertility and acupuncture. I bit the bullet and scheduled an appointment Monday. Hoping it helps for my tmj jaw pain and I want to discuss with him fertility help. We've been trying since January after my mmc with no luck. I hate needles and I'm nervous and desperate. Initiall appointment is 90 minutes and 125$, 75$ for follow ups. I'm driving 45 minutes to this appointment and pray it works! I'm (predicted by app) ovulating next Wednesday which is my 39th birthday and all I want for my birthday is to have a healthy pregnancy 😭

22yo guy here
Let me start by saying this first, 7 month ago I went cold turkey, it was the same time where I was at my worst, I lost hope in all my doctors. (I also had doctors in my family which I stopped taking advice from)
Well as you can guess that time was the worst time of my life. I was feeling so low I can’t even describe it. On top of my skin flair ups I experienced stomach ulcers with diagnosed IBD, weight loss, depression, fatigue, migraines, intense stomach pain and nerve ending pains like stinging. And yes I did go crazy during that time.
It was hard for me to explain but even though everyone was saying I should continue using steroids to “get my life back” and continue using immunosuppressants there was a voice inside of me that was telling me not to do it. So I didn’t. And that voice helped me all throughout the coming pain and fights reassuring me that I did the right choice.
I was lucky and got into a medical trial of some form of immunosuppressants but I declined it.
I closed myself of to the world (not to my close friends and family of course) and faced MY reality. Because this was my life now! Every day was a fight with inflammation. But with time I got better and better. My approach was and what gave me strength was telling myself that I am connecting with nature again.
I started to take long walks in the forest, I sunbathed a lot ( and am still doing so) I started to only use natural products, I developed a intolerance to any kind of soap or shampoo and am only using natural soaps/conditioners/ ingredients now.
I started using aloe gel which helped me insanely with my skin and moisture, I also developed intolerance to Vaseline my skin was very itchy when I applied it.
I only take showers once a week or a bath with epson salt.
That being said, 7 months ago I decided to risk it all and I am so happy to say it payed of.
My skin is healthy, I have no inflammation. For the first time in my whole life. I can sleep. I’m not in pain. I don’t have stomache ulcers or stomach pains. ( I have been on high potent probiotics for the 7 months) My migraines are gone. I stopped losing weight. For the first time in my life my lymph nodes are not swollen. There also used to be small pumps on my veins which are also gone now for the first time in my life ( this is just my own observation, doctors always ignored this)
1 month ago I started micro immunotherapy and am taking 2LALERG from Labolife, since it’s supposed to help your immune system regulate itself to its natural state and that aligned with my goal. It’s not a medication and has barely if any side effects.( I have no idea if this has helped me in any way just putting this out there) I have always had high IgE which also resulted in the inflammatory states in my body.
Yeah all in all I’m feeling really good. I though I was doomed for life. That things would never get better. But it’s not true. It can get better!
PS: I have been trying very hard to avoid stress in these months as I noticed how big of a impact it has on me and my body

Hello, looking for advice on whether it's worth seeking another dentist to save my tooth or there's no hope for it. I had an impacted wisdom tooth I finally removed a few years ago. I went to the dentist yesterday and she advised that I have a cavity below my gumline and I want to say bone? She said the tooth couldn't be saved and gave me a few referrals to some oral surgeons. I'm really bummed because overall my teeth are in great condition and she said that this is something that could be totally preventable if my parents would've had my wisdom teeth removed when I was younger. She said her best guess is the oral surgeon would possibly have to do a bone graft? due to how close the back molar is to my jaw bone and will need an implant and then crown. Does this sound accurate or is it worth seeking another dentist's opinion? I do have dental insurance but still worried about the pain/healing time and costs for something like this. Thank you for taking the time to read!

I'm a 23 Male of 186cm height, 126KG, non-smoker, currently on a blend of eye drops, Ibuprofen and Carbamazepine pills. I have no major medical history prior to this.
I have been experiencing eye fatigue, and eventually eye pain for the past week. This week, the pain crept into my temple and jaw, and I went to a doctor. The doctor is someone close to me, and I was able to get a CT scan of my head ahead of normal procedures. The following doctor couldn't comfirm what kind of problems I had, but based on my area of pain and eye fatigue, the doctor prescribed me some eye drops, ibuprofen and Carbamazepine pills.
It's been 3 days since I started the medicine, and the pain hasn't really gone away, and I couldn't do my daily task without 400mg of ibuprofen every 8 hours. Another strange thing is that everything I hear seems to be deeper, their tone lowered by a note, music's doesn't sound out of tune, my friends' voice sounds deeper, and everything just doesn't sound right.
Can the medication I'm taking cause hearing issue, or is it unrelated and more likely to be a symptom of this illness I have?

I have been getting regular Denosumab shots (Xgeva) for the 4 years since diagnosis. My oncologist recommended an excellent dentist that specialized in Myeloma patients on this drug and, so far, I get cleanings every 6 months, an exam of what's happening, and he has largely been very hands off. If I'm not in pain, or it isn't a glaring problem, he has preferred to watch and wait. Perfect.
That dentist has brought a younger guy into the practice to take over as he prepares to retire. Yesterday after a rough cleaning, he 'found' a patch of decay on a tooth with an old onlay and, without looking at x-rays of my teeth or jaw (I have lytic lesions on my jaw), said he needed to drill out that old dental work and replace with a crown. I reluctantly scheduled appointments to do just that starting in 2 weeks (their choice on timing not mine).
After a night of thinking about it, I called the dental office and said 'cancel those 2 appointments. Schedule me with the older dentist the day before my next scheduled Xgeva shot (which is early July, so 6 weeks out). He and I will discuss then if the procedure is necessary, and if I will get the shot the next day.'
The receptionist was reluctant but I was insistent. I did not say that the young guy struck me as 'winging it' when it came to my jaw (what if he drills it all out and discovers not enough tooth left to hold a crown?), nor did I say I felt like it was a money grab (I believe dentists can be greedy and over treat when they get a patient they suspect is compliant and financially able to fund a lot of work). I just want the guy with the experience who will check all the data before making a single hole in my mouth and possibly causing me yet another summer of expensive pain.
Am I being ridiculous? I have seen some real scary things on here about necrosis of the jaw and I want to make sure I check all the boxes before I head down a dental path that might end in permanent damage. And why does forcefully (but kindly) self advocating make other people so uncomfortable?

35F; currently taking Prednisone 31 mg, Lamictal 35 mg, and Trileptal 1 mg. Non-smoker and non-drinker.
I've been on a high dose of Prednisone for 6 months now -- I started on 60 mg on Halloween and have now tapered down to 31 mg. I have an endocrinologist who oversees the taper.
I've started experiencing intermittent bone pain (spine, hips, teeth, skull, clavicle, ribs) and joint pain (knees, jaw joints). It tends to gets worse after the Prednisone wears off, an hour or two before I take it again. I recently had a DEXA scan, through which I found out that I have osteoporosis in my spine and osteopenia in my hips. However, my endocrinologist said that neither one causes pain; he couldn't offer me any suggestions for what to do.
What kind of doctor should I see to diagnose and treat the bone and joint pain? Rheumatologist? Orthopedist? Different endocrinologist? I'm concerned about arthritis or avascular necrosis induced by Prednisone.
In the meantime, I don't know how to treat the osteoporosis -- I don't tolerate bisphosphonates, since I'm bed-bound due to long Covid and thus can't sit up for a full hour after taking the medication. Is there a different option?

Hello there!! (22F) I just got rescanned for a new clear plastic retainer after not wearing it for years. I’ve been wearing it at night for two weeks now and all I experience is a ton of pressure and pain in my jaw, gums and face. It’s deepening my bite and I’ve noticed they’ve moved my teeth and caused some gum recession as well. I think it’s too tight but my ortho literally ghosted me, probably because I came to her with all my concerns even the very minuscule ones, not to mention she was never clear how often I should wear them or when to come back. I didn’t wear it last night and it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in over a month of discomfort. But this morning I’m feeling a lot of pressure in the front of my teeth where I usually feel the most pressure with the retainer and that’s where I noticed the most movement and recession. I’m scared I’m going in a loop of getting worse but idk whether to wear it or not and my ortho won’t get back to me! I think I’m just going to stop wearing the retainer until I can schedule with an OS for my TMJ, everything is too expensive. I’ve posted on here about my dental anxiety with this specific current issue but this is definitely targeted more at the physical damage even if it’s “minor” as everyone keeps telling me. Any advice? Please and thank you.

Hello there!! (22F) I just got rescanned for a new clear plastic retainer after not wearing it for years. I’ve been wearing it at night for two weeks now and all I experience is a ton of pressure and pain in my jaw, gums and face. It’s deepening my bite and I’ve noticed they’ve moved my teeth and caused some gum recession as well. I think it’s too tight but my ortho literally ghosted me, probably because I came to her with all my concerns even the very minuscule ones, not to mention she was never clear how often I should wear them or when to come back. I didn’t wear it last night and it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in over a month of discomfort. But this morning I’m feeling a lot of pressure in the front of my teeth where I usually feel the most pressure with the retainer and that’s where I noticed the most movement and recession. I’m scared I’m going in a loop of getting worse but idk whether to wear it or not and my ortho won’t get back to me! I think I’m just going to stop wearing the retainer until I can schedule with an OS for my TMJ, everything is too expensive. I’ve posted on here about my dental anxiety with this specific current issue but this is definitely targeted more at the physical damage even if it’s “minor” as everyone keeps telling me. Any advice? Please and thank you.

Hi
I had tmj pain a few years ago (headaches, earaches, joint popping and ear closing, tinnitus, hyperacusis) My dentist said I was grinding my teeth at night so I worn a bruxxism mouthguard + regularly massaged my jaw and these symptoms pretty much faded for a few years. But after a while my mouthguard started disturbing my sleep so I stopped wearing it and didn't think about it again for some time. (I had other health issues at the same time)
Now since last year I've been having moments where my jaw slightly locks (or "pre-locks") along with rdm stuttering and gradual hyperacusis. Eajaw pain as well. Bruxxism or tmj didn't come to mind because I've got a lot of shit going on and believed it was related to something else. I do remember gently pulling my jaw back into place at some point a few months back (no popping).
Three days ago after massaging my right ear and yawning, my jaw felt slightly loose and painful on the right side. The opening is slightly reduced and my bite feels off. (upper and low teeth don't meet as they should). So I went to the dentists again. Had a x-ray and they told me there's nothing they can do because it's a joint/muscle issue and that I should actually go see a physiotherapist. (and that it would probably get better on it's own) My questions are :

1. Did the x-ray actually prove anything in regards to what's going on ?
2. It's been 4 days and Im getting anxious about letting my jaw in that position but I don't wanna cause more trouble by manipulating in the wrong way. Does it get worse the longer it goes on and is there a need for a manual reduction ? Or should I just try to relax the muscles/reduce the inflammation ?
3. I believe I faintly remember a few years ago my ex dentist holding my jaw while asking me to pull away (or pulling in). Is it dangerous to try to gently put your jaw back into place by yourself/do a manual reduction ? There's supposedly another technique with a big syringe/pencils, does anyone have experience with that ?
4. Should I put my mouthguard again every night ? Or could it make it worse ?
5. If I see the pt, is he supposed to start manipulating my jaw/joints without further imaging ?

Thank you guys

When I was first diagnosed 2 yrs ago with IIH my symptoms were not textbook. I had severe right sided chest, neck, shoulder, jaw and head pain. Even had pain just on the right side in my throat when I swallowed. No blurred vision, but did have terrible vertigo. My opening pressure was only 26 but my symptoms were absolutely excruciating and I have a high pain tolerance. I did have papilledema as well. Recently had an exacerbation and refused to go get another LP but did go to ER because once again the shoulder and chest pain were unbearable and my white blood cells were high. Looked back and my very first episode they were high then as well. My neuro op said that is not a symptom…. Anyone else with odd symptoms? It’s funny I am a nurse and worked office Neurology and we used to do LP’s all the time and people literally walking around with 33, 38 opening pressures with mild headaches!🥴 I mean, how?! I’ve been told I have a very mild case but the symptoms for me are just horrible.

The Results of the "All Star Variety Show" Talent Show Challenge are in!
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DURING THE EPISODE...
As the werkroom lights flicker on, ten fierce All-Stars strut in, each eyeing the coveted spot in the Hall of Fame next to All Stars 1 winner Kylie Sonique Love. Get ready for a season packed with glamour, drama, and legendary lip-syncs. The race to the top has never been fiercer!
The first to enter the werkroom is Plasma! With a confident strut and a twinkle in her eye, she sashays in, exuding the charisma that screams "Broadway." She spills the tea in the confessional, expressing her sheer delight at being back in the Drag Race spotlight. Having tasted the bittersweet sting of elimination just shy of the season 5 finale, and having two wins under her belt, including triumphs in singing and acting challenges, Plasma is ready to reclaim her time and showcase the full spectrum of her theatrical prowess in this All Stars showdown. She's poised to snatch every moment and let her theatrical brilliance shine brighter than ever before!
As the next queen struts into the werkroom, Plasma's face lights up with pure joy—it's Priyanka! With a squeal of excitement, Plasma rushes over, their sisterhood from season 5 reignited in an instant. They embrace in a tight hug, exchanging playful banter as Plasma teases, "You better not send me home again, bitch!" In the confessional, Priyanka, reveals that she's never felt more ready for Drag Race than in this moment. After her season 5 journey, she's toured the world and grown immensely, feeling like she's finally hit her stride. With a mischievous grin, she declares her intention to snatch the crown right from under Plasma's nose, punctuating her declaration with a hearty laugh. Priyanka is ready to slay the competition and claim her moment in the spotlight.
As Plasma and Priyanka share laughs and catch up, the werkroom is hit with another dose of glamour as Bosco makes her entrance! The queens are instantly gagged by her stunning outfit, which accentuates her flawless figure in all the right ways. Making a beeline for Plasma and Priyanka, Bosco showers them with hugs, kisses, and compliments, praising their fierce looks. In a heart-to-heart with her fellow queens, Bosco reveals that she was offered a spot on All Stars 1 but didn't feel quite ready at the time. Now, however, she's back and more prepared than ever to snatch the crown. In a confessional, Plasma opens up about feeling a mix of excitement and intimidation in Bosco's presence. As a trailblazer from Season 1, Bosco is a true legend in the drag world, and her arrival adds an extra layer of excitement and competition to the mix.
As the werkroom continues to buzz with excitement, in walks Marcia Marcia Marcia, sending Priyanka and Plasma into disbelief. It's another queen from season 5, and the reunion is nothing short of epic. The trio embraces in a group hug, their smiles stretching from ear to ear as they revel in the joy of seeing each other again. Bosco joins the lovefest, adding her warmth to the mix as she greets Marcia with a tight hug. In a confessional, Marcia Marcia Marcia opens up about her near-miss with the crown last time around, admitting with a hint of sarcasm that seeing Priyanka and Plasma back in the competition feels like déjà vu after beating them before. Meanwhile, Priyanka playfully ribs Marcia about her makeup skills, teasing her about the "barely even there" makeup from season 5.
In a whirlwind of sequins and sass, Kahanna Montrese sashays into the werkroom, catching the other queens off guard with her swift return from season 7. The room buzzes with curiosity and intrigue as Kahanna shares her determination to prove herself after feeling robbed of her chance in her previous season. The other queens nod in admiration, applauding her unwavering resolve and fierce determination. In a confessional, Priyanka reflects on Kahanna's shocking elimination during season 7, recalling how she won a challenge only to face an early exit.
With an aura of determination radiating from every sequin, Cara Melle struts into the werkroom, her gaze fixed on the other queens with a steely resolve that could cut through diamonds. In a confessional, she reveals her satisfaction at being the lone representative from season 2 in this All Stars lineup, after her sisters Regina, Denali, and Kimmy failed to snatch the crown in All Stars 1. Cara envisions herself as the rightful queen to claim a spot in the Drag Race Hall of Fame. As Cara's intense energy fills the room, Kahanna Montrese can't help but feel a twinge of surprise and uncertainty. Is Cara's confidence a facade, she wonders, a mask concealing her true intentions? Kahanna can't shake the feeling that there's more to this queen than meets the eye.
Danny Beard struts into the werkroom, greeted with beaming smiles from Bosco and Cara Melle, who are thrilled to see a queen from the earlier seasons joining their ranks. In a confessional, Danny shares her aspirations, expressing her desire to claim a spot beside her season 3 sister Kylie in the Drag Race Hall of Fame. With a fierce determination to remind the world of her slayage during season 3, Danny is here to snatch hearts and slay challenges. As the other queens welcome Danny with open arms, Marcia Marcia Marcia can't contain her excitement, channeling her inner fangirl as she declares Danny one of her idols.
With a signature "bam" that reverberates through the werkroom, Alexis Mateo makes her grand entrance, instantly setting the tone for the room with her iconic catchphrase. The other queens can't help but join in, screaming "bam" in unison as they welcome her with open arms. Curious about Alexis's journey and representing Puerto Rico, Priyanka dives in with questions, eager to learn more about the legendary queen's drag legacy. Proudly representing her Puerto Rican roots, Alexis exudes confidence as she vows to remind Mama Ru and the world why the island's drag scene reigns supreme. In a playful confessional moment, Alexis admits she's relieved not to spot Mistress in the room, jokingly citing the potential for drama. Among the sea of familiar faces, Alexis is particularly intrigued by Kahanna's presence, given their Vegas connections. With a knowing smirk, she anticipates the surprises her old friend might have up her sleeve this time around
As Tia Kofi struts into the werkroom, the other queens are left gagging at her undeniable glow-up. With her confidence radiating like a beacon, Tia's transformation from her season 6 days leaves jaws on the floor. Not one to shy away from a bit of playful banter, the queens don't hold back from teasing Tia about her questionable runway looks from her previous season. Alexis, ever the straight-shooter, even quips about hoping Tia brought a stylist along for the ride this time around. In a confessional, Tia holds nothing back, acknowledging her humble beginnings as a "baby queen" during season 6. But she's quick to point out that her journey across the globe has been a crash course in fashion education, and she's more than ready to show off her newfound sense of style on the All Stars stage.
As the final queen makes her grand entrance, the werkroom falls into stunned silence, with Plasma declaring her the "robbed queen of the century": Marina Summers. Marina, embodying grace and poise, reveals in a confessional the overwhelming support she received after narrowly missing out on the crown in season 7. However, she takes a moment to address her fans, urging them to cease any harassment directed towards Nymphia, the season 7 winner. With love and respect for her fellow queen, Marina emphasizes that Nymphia deserved her victory and sets her sights firmly on claiming the crown for herself in this All Stars season. With a warmth that fills the room, Marina approaches the other queens, embracing each one in turn. Danny, always quick with a witty remark, jokes about who might try to steal Marina's crown this time around, eliciting laughter from the group. Amidst the camaraderie and laughter, Marina's presence adds an extra layer of excitement and anticipation to the competition, as the queens gear up for what promises to be an unforgettable All Stars journey.
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RuPaul enters the werkroom and the queens participate in the first mini-challenge of the season.
Mini Challenge "Reading is Fundamental" Winner: Danny Beard
The Queens prepare for the talent show each plotting their path to snatch the spotlight

• As Marcia Marcia Marcia, Priyanka, and Plasma huddle together, Alexis Mateo, Bosco, Cara Melle, and Danny Beard exchange knowing glances, sensing a clique forming among the season 5 sisters. Meanwhile, Marina Summers and Tia Kofi observe from afar, noticing a similar camaraderie brewing among the "early season" queens.
• In a corner of the werkroom, Kahanna Montrese and Alexis Mateo share tales of their Vegas experiences, their voices tinged with nostalgia and shared memories.
• Over by the makeup mirrors, Tia Kofi and Priyanka swap fashion tips, their laughter ringing out as Marina Summers playfully teases, suggesting they might need advice from someone else.

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AFTER DELIBERATION...
TOP2: Marcia Marcia Marcia 🌟 (1x win) / Marina Summers🌟 (1x win)
HIGH: Alexis Mateo / Cara Melle
SAFE: Bosco / Kahanna Montrese / Priyanka
LOW: Plasma
BTM2: Danny Beard (1x btm) / Tia Kofi (1x btm)
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The Top Two Queens Marcia Marcia Marcia and Marina Summers will Lip-Sync for their Legacy to "Shake It Off" by Taylor Swift. This is your chance to impress me, take the win, and earn the power to give one of the Bottom Queens the Chop. Good Luck and Don't Fuck It Up!
Poll
Spreadsheet/Track Record

Hello all this may be a long one. I’ll try my best to keep it short.
I am a 25f trying to decide if leaving is best for my current situation.
I currently work full time at my family business which I am a partner with my dad and we run it together. Without me I feel like the business may run downhill. I’ve built relationships with a lot of our clients. However my dad is the professional and I am not yet licensed. I’ve worked in the field for 11 years and while I know quite a bit, I feel that my growth is hindered.
I just got out of a 6 year relationship and while the breakup was amicable, it was so painful I thought the first two days after the breakup I was going to die. My boyfriend was my best friend and it sucks that I can’t see and talk to him like we used to be able to.
I’m having trouble “finding myself”.
I have a severe lack of motivation because life just feels overwhelming, the bills are piling up and I just can’t take it anymore.
I’m not suicidal or anything like that. I just feel like I’m dying on the inside and I can’t stop it.
I think what I need to do is leave, just the timing is horrible. I’m having jaw surgery in about 2-3 months, I’m still in braces so I’d need to finish my treatment.
I guess I’m just hoping for a piece of advice on what the heck I should do in my situation. I know most of you will say I should be in therapy but if I could afford it, I would’ve already done it.
I’m thinking about turning off my water, electric, internet at my apartment and staying with my family until I can save up enough to leave and I’ve finished my treatment. That way my father has time to replace me and hire someone new in my place.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

-Zein's POV-
"It's been so long since I did this. It's color, it's taste, it's just so wonderful. I've never experienced this in any of my experience, except, when I was young. The blood that just flows. It's everything I've dreamt. Unfortunately, I'm the only one who wants this."
Zein's wrist was filled with blood. He loved cutting himself and looking at the blood flow like a spider lily blooming. The taste of blood is so addictive. He's not a vampire, he's merely human but blood gets him aroused everytime. The feeling of flowing blood just excited him. He slowly cuts himself over and over again, licking the dripping blood afterwards.
"I should really go back. My shift is about to start." "Haah~ haah~ it's too much." Zein felt so hot and his sweat was dripping more and more. "I can't hold it back~" Zein allowed his blood to drip on his pants and the sweat dripping would sting the wound from time to time. A couple minutes, Zein remembered that he still has his shift and he's been having too much fun. He hurriedly changed his clothes and went to the mini mart. It's another quiet night at the mart. Loud vehicles passing by are the only noise Zein could here. He slowly dozed off on the counter.
Ring
The mart bell rang and a customer entered. Zein woke up and noticed the loud crashing rain from outside. The customer walked at the counter and Zein immediately knew who they were. It was Rain. Zein was surprised on his arrival. "Oh wow, seriously. Why are you here?" Zein rudely asked Rain. "Um, obviously, this is a mart and I'm here to buy something." Rain abruptly replied. "God, fine. What do you want to buy just pick here or whatever." Zein just watched as Rain picked some items. Rain was very wet because of the pouring outside. His body could be shown vaguely. Zein would steal glances at Rain's soaked body. "What are you looking at?" Rain noticed how Zein looked at him. "I'm trying to make sure that you're not gonna steal anything." Zein hesitantly replied. He didn't mind Rain as he continued to pick more items. "Here!" Rain dropped the items in the counter scaring Zein. "God can you be more gentle?" Zein was surprisingly calm about all Rain's doings and didn't crack a nerve. "Here's the money, now gimme those" Rain handed the money and grabbed the items. "Needles and plastic bags? Are you some sort of tailor with an obsession over plastic? Weirdo" Zein smirked as he asked the question. Rain just didn't answer and went out. "Hey wait, it's still pouring outside." Zein tried to stop Rain from going out because of the strong rainstorm but Rain already got out. "Seriously" Zein pouted.
-Rain's POV-
Creak
The door of the house suddenly opened with a soft creaking noise. "I'm home mom." Rain greeted the empty house. "Oh honey, it's perfect timing. We were about to start dinner." Rain's mom invited his son to join them for dinner. Rain doesn't usually join them and sits on his room all day. "Maybe next time?" Rain dragged his groceries up his room and locked the door. "Finally some alone time. Now, time to finish what I started." Rain would dragged himself across his room and fell directly into his bed. "Why was there bandages in his hand?" Rain raised his hand in the air and observed it.
Squeek
A cute squeek can be heard. It was coming from a cute white mouse as white as snow with soft pink paws. Rain jumped out of his bed remembering what he was about to do earlier that day. He gently grabbed the mouse placing it in his hands. He then gently placed it inside an empty aquarium and it jumped around happily. In the blink of an eye, a python (a snake) jumped out and wrapped the mouse tightly. The mouse squeeked in pain squirming and trying to escape. Rain just watch there, smiling in satisfaction as the snake drained the mouse away.
--Disclaimer-- This is my original story please don't repost unless if you ask permission.
Comment if you liked it and chapter 3 coming soon.

(continuation of part 3)
Since Fatal Calling is all about Cloud facing his past and his origins, Tifa’s musical theme is most appropriate for the ending cutscene. For all of these reasons, Tifa’s theme is absolutely appropriate for the conclusion of Fatal Calling. It makes a lot of sense then that once Cloud has finished revisiting the past and vanishes with the crystal to find his Promised Land, Tifa’s theme stops and Aerith’s theme begins.
There’s a lot to be said about Sephiroth in Fatal Calling. Sephiroth feeds off of despair, and deems Palamecia’s suffering inadequate: he seeks a much greater source of power than this realm. He states that Palamecia isn’t “the world that was promised to [him]”, referencing his desire to become the god of his core world of FFVII:

“Sephiroth: Melding with the planet, I will cease to exist as I am now only to be reborn as a ‘god’ to rule over every soul” (FFVII OG, disk 1, chapter 25).

Sephiroth’s line “Now, let us return [Cloud]. Back to the Promised Land” reveals he wants to return to their shared core world of FFVII, like we established in our review of the Remake timelines theory (see section “I. a) vii.”). Sephiroth wants to go back to FFVII and modify the OG timeline to achieve his evil goals. This is his ideal scenario, his place of complete happiness: his desired Promised Land. Fatal Calling is setting up Sephiroth’s plans for Remake. In fact, the after-credits scene wherein Sephiroth stands in Nibelheim as it burns confirms his return to the FFVII OG timeline.
However, he isn’t the only one returning. Now that Cloud has revisited his past in Fatal Calling, he’s ready to reach his Promised Land. After Sephiroth’s after-credits scene, the OG FFVII title and logo turn into the FFVII Remake title and logo, indicating a shift: we are now officially in the Remakeera or world. Cloud and Sephiroth disappeared at the end of Fatal Calling, and now the game is telling us where they’ve gone. Combined with Hamaguchi’s recommendation that players complete the collaboration event before playing Remake, I think this is a solid indication that the Cloud and Sephiroth we see in this collaboration event are those we encounter in the Remake world. Once the switch to Remake occurs, Aerith’s theme returns. This communicates that she is indeed —as we’ve proven countless times already— Cloud’s Promised Land. But it also conveys her importance to the story of Remake. Scenario writer Nojima confirmed this:

“Aerith's the most important character in the remake so we paid special attention to her lines” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 744).

Aerith was already important to OG, so what could’ve motivated Nojima to state her importance to Remake? Could it be that she’s even more important in the latter than she was in the former? In what way?
That was the collaboration! Before we move on from MFF x FFVII Remake entirely though, let’s glean some more relevant information from some of the collaboration’s promotional material and special features.
III. e) iii. Promotional Material and Special Features
Two particular pieces of promotional material for this collaboration stick out to me as extremely relevant. The first is a promotion for a new summons batch in the Mobius FF game, created in honor of the collaboration.
MFF x FFVII Remake Summons Batch Cloud Promo
The summons batch contains three FFVII Remake-themed cards, including a Cloud card. As you can see, this promo reads “Who awaits in the Promised Land?” under Cloud’s picture.
The second is a promotion of an Aerith and summons and an Aerith Job Card (in MFF, Job Cards allow a character to embody an archetype or another character, giving them certain physical traits, clothing, weapons and abilities):
MFF x FFVII Remake Aerith Summons and Job Card Promo
I couldn’t find this picture in English, but the text relevant to us translates to:

“Midgar's Flower Vendor Summons
‘I'm searching for you. I want to meet… you.’
The witch protects the planet, imbues it with power, and leads to the Promised Land.”

A few things here. First, Aerith is referenced by name, and we see a picture of her in her famous praying pose. Secondly, both Cloud and Aerith’s images are attached to the notion of the Promised Land. Cloud’s card asks who awaits there, and Aerith’s evokes a guiding role, as though in response. Thirdly, both Cloud and Aerith are attached to the notion of searching: Cloud searches for the Promised Land and whomever awaits there, and Aerith searches for Cloud’s true self. Speaking of which, the promo also includes parts of Aerith’s famous gondola date quote from OG:

“Aeris: I'm searching for you.
Cloud: …?
Aeris: I want to meet you.
Cloud: But I'm right here.
Aeris: I know, I know... what I mean is... I want to meet... you” (disk 1 chapter 24).

In case you’re wondering about the lady in Aerith’s clothes on the left-hand side, that’s Meia, a character in MFF. She is the “witch” being referred to in the promotional material. She’s often called the Azure Witch. Meia is wearing Aerith’s clothes because a Meia-type Job Card called “Flower Girl of Midgar” was created in honor of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration:
MFF x FFVII Remake \"Flower Girl of Midgar\" Job Card
There’s even an Aerith outfit you can have Echo wear, and it appears with Wol’s Cloud outfit in the promotional picture:
MFF x FFVII Remake Echo's Aerith Outfit and Wol's Cloud Outfit
To be fair, Tifa also appears in one of these summons promos. However, unlike Aerith’s, her appearance doesn’t reference the Promised Land or her version of the gondola date. She is not presented in connection to Cloud at all. On top of that, while the Aerith and Cloud outfits are promoted together, Tifa is paired with Vincent in the promotional image:
MFF x FFVII Remake Summons Promo Tifa and Vincent
This is hardly indicative of Cloti content in the event collaboration or in Remake.
III. e) iv. Cloud’s Promised Land
All in all, the collaboration tells the story of Cloud searching for his Promised Land, just as post-OG Cloud has been shown doing for years and years of canon SE content. Cloud is searching for Aerith in the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration, just like he was in FFT and DFF, and just like he was shown doing in the 30th FF Anniversary Exposition. This is nothing new. However, the collaboration informs us that this mission to be reunited with Aerith is what leads Cloud to enter the world of Remake.
Echo noted that people obtain the Promised Land they deserve rather than the one they want. What does Cloud deserve? I believe the answer is: another chance at saving Aerith.
Cloud needs to start over, from the top. He needs to go back to the very moment he and Avalanche arrived at mako reactor 1 to bomb it. He needs to return to the beginning of the OG game. He needs a redo, a fix-it, another shot at happiness; a remake.

IV. The Hidden Plot Point: Mission Theory

a) Thesis
Here lies the heart of my theory. My dear Cleriths, Sephiroth isn’t the only one who travelled back in time to undo destiny and create a reality where things go his way: Remake is also —I would even say primarily— Cloud’s chance to free Aerith from her fate, save her life and secure his shot at happiness with her. That’s why he experiences MOTFs in Remake: he’s done FFVII before and now he’s back, although with only fragments of his memories from OG, to save Aerith. That’s why his triggers all involve Aerith: he doesn’t consciously remember anything from OG, but his grief over Aerith is so strong that it rises from his subconsciousness at the slightest trigger.
In Remake, Cloud remembers some but not all elements of the OG timeline (MOTFs), and it appears he only remembers the most important things: all his MOTFs revolve around Aerith and her fate. Our theory explains why Aerith triggers Cloud’s MOTFs in Remake quite perfectly: he traveled back in time to prevent Aerith’s death from happening. Remake Cloud remembers Aerith because, well, he knows her from OG. Post-OG Cloud has returned to the past to save Aerith, resulting in Remake. This is why seeing her in Remake triggers visions and memories of things that haven’t happened yet in Remake, but have already happened to post-OG Cloud. He recognizes her face on Loveless in Remake because seeing her face again is the whole reason he entered Remake in the first place. His visions of her death when they meet once more at the church, the spike of anxiety and grief as he watches her walk away from him, the constriction in his chest when she talks about doing everything in her power to help the planet… all of it, it’s all his memories of OG being jogged by things related to her death. What he’s forgotten from the OG timeline emerges in flashes of pain, images, memory and emotion. Remember that the language the devs used to describe these instances where Cloud reacts to Aerith in this way is always about “remembering” or “recognizing”; Cloud has to have seen Aerith, known Aerith, loved Aerith, lost Aerith and felt the pain of living without Aerith before in order to recognize and remember these feelings. Think about it: this is the only thing that can explain Cloud’s extremely selective MOTFs and the fact that he has MOTFs at all.
The Remake trilogy is all about Cloud and Sephiroth stepping into the ring one more time, both ready to risk it all to get what they lost in the OG timeline. Sephiroth is hungry for destruction and godhood, while Cloud stands determined to save the love of his life. Fighting for their respective goals, the fated enemies enter a new battle in Remake, one to end the war, both needing to win this time after losing so horribly in OG. Now, it’s all or nothing. Sephiroth vying for the planet, and Cloud reaching out for Aerith.
Cloud’s back with a quest, one he can’t fail— it’s the most secret and important plot point of all. I call this the “Mission Theory”.
IV. b) Mission Theory Logistics
There are a few things that remain vague, so I’m going to use this section of the analysis to speculate on the logistics of my theory. We know very little about the hows of the timeline and multiverse shenanigans, so I’m going to hypothesize. However, this analysis is about the whys: so if you’re not interested in mechanical speculation on the logistics of time travel and multiverses, you can totally disregard this section and skip to section “V.”.
IV. b) i. Cloud the Time-Traveler?
It’s unclear whether Remake is the result of post-OG Cloud going back in time to try his hand at the OG timeline again, or the result of post-OG Cloud somehow informing OG Cloud that he must save Aerith this time around. It’s vague in the same way that we aren’t sure if Remake Aerith is post-OG Aerith or if she’s been informed by post-OG Aerith via her connection to the Lifestream as a Cetra. Though it doesn’t much matter how Cloud has memories of Aerith’s death in Remake, I personally think that Remake Cloud is a time-traveling post-OG Cloud. My explanation as to why might be a little confusing, so again, feel free to skip to section “V.”.
One must be able to communicate with the Lifestream in order to obtain knowledge of the future. This access can only be granted to the Cetra or to the souls of the deceased that compose the Lifestream itself. Since Cloud is not a Cetra, he cannot commune with the Lifestream while he is alive, meaning a deceased post-OG Cloud would not have been able to communicate his memories of the OG plot-line with a living OG Cloud. Therefore, the only way Remake Cloud could have knowledge of the future (manifested as MOTFs) would be that Remake Cloud is inhabited by his post-OG consciousness. Effectively, this is time-traveling.
Then comes the question of how Cloud was able to time-travel at all. I have what I consider a pretty solid hypothesis. The most interesting thing about the realm of Palamecia is that every FF character that’s ever appeared in the realm for a cameo died in their core world beforehand (spoilers for FFI, FFV, FFVI, FFX, FFXII, FFXIII, FFXV incoming). These characters include Tidus (FFX), Lightning (FFXIII), Garland (FFI), Sephiroth (FFVII), Gilgamesh (FFV), Vargas (FFVI), Gabranth (FFXII) and Ultros (FFXV). My interpretation of Palamecia serves at least partly as a directory for deceased souls that can’t simply fade. For instance, FFX’s Tidus actually came back to life to be with his love>! Yuna !! FFX!<. Of course, MFF x>! FFX !!FFX!< and FFX-2, just like MFF x FFVII Remake came out between FFVII OG and FFVII. And similarly to Fatal Calling, the ending cutscene of MFF x>! FFX !!Next thing you know, FFX-2 comes out and shows Tidus returning to Yuna and their core world in an optional cutscene.!< The MFF x>! FFX !! Tidus !Remake.
IV. b) ii. Post-OG Cloud’s Amnesia
If we consider that Remake Cloud is a time-travelling post-OG Cloud who’s returned to the start of the OG timeline, we encounter another logistical problem: why doesn’t Cloud remember everything or most things from the OG plot-line in Remake, like Sephiroth and Remake Aerith do? After all, aren’t the three of them in the same time-travelling boat? Why isn’t Cloud as lucid on the matter as the two others? Didn’t the post-OG Cloud in Fatal Calling face his past and origins? Shouldn’t that mean Cloud would remember all that stuff in Remake from the start?
In OG, the true Cloud’s memories are repressed by both his false persona and Jenova. The latter’s memetic abilities are able to block Cloud’s memories of the past from emerging and conflicting with his SOLDIER persona. For instance, in both OG and Remake, Cloud is unable to hear Aerith tell him Zack’s name in Evergreen Park: Jenova blocks it out. I think this is a similar situation: post-OG Cloud’s consciousness carries memories things that Jenova doesn’t want Cloud to know, so she pushes down on them. On top of that, after travelling through different worlds and back through the Lifestream for who knows how long, post-OG Cloud’s consciousness must be quite weak. We know how good Cloud is at repressing, so it makes total sense to me that post-OG Cloud’s consciousness would be trapped or suppressed somewhere deep in Remake Cloud’s subconsciousness. After all, it’s not like this whole time-travelling-consciousness thing is normal for a mind to experience. It’s no wonder Remake Cloud doesn’t consciously remember how things go in OG. However, post-OG Cloud’s love and grief for Aerith are so strong that memories related to her can occasionally pierce through to his Remake consciousness and Jenova’s barriers, resulting in his MOTFs. His pain and love for her are definitely permanent and strong enough:

“A young woman descended from the Ancients who will forever be engraved in [Cloud’s] heart” (Dirge of Cerberus, Japanese manual, Aerith’s character description).
“I believe for those who formerly traveled with her as comrades and for the viewers, each carries their own feelings and love for Aerith. In this story, Cloud also carries his own undying feelings for Aerith, even to this very day… Its relation with the church scene is… Yup. I’ll leave this part to your imagination. (laughs)” (Nomura interview on Advent Children “Designer’s Note” in *Famitsu PS2!*magazine, October 24th issue).

So you see, Remake Cloud’s mind is a little more complicated than OG Cloud’s mind. Everything is still the same in Remake as in OG, but with the added complication that his future self is hidden in his subconscious mind, probably trying to get out.
There is actually pretty good evidence of this. I’m sure you’re aware that whenever Jenova is trying to hide something from Cloud or altering his memory and/or perception, the screen glitches green with an audio cue (34:15-34:29, 1:15:30-1:15:41 and 1:17:14-1:17:29). Guess what? These Jenova audiovisual cues also occur during the MOTFs (ie: MOTF 3 2:58-3:07 and MOTF 4 0:29-0:42). Whenever post-OG Cloud’s consciousness encounters anything that reminds it of losing Aerith, the strength of its pain helps it push memories of Aerith to the surface so that RemakeCloud can consciously see them. Remake Cloud then experiences sensations and/or visions, all from his future self’s memories as they rise to the surface, propelled by grief. Jenova can’t allow Remake Cloud to fully recover his post-OG memory, so in order to shut down the process, its cells jump in to repress the MOTFs: this results in the classic Jenova audiovisual cues. The only time Jenova doesn’t bother to fight against a MOTF is the sixth, as it is quite weak: no visions occur, only a tight sensation in his chest.
IV. b) iii. Eclipse Contact and Cloud’s Memories of Reactor 1
There is one problem I have trouble decoding. In Eclipse Contact, Cloud tells Wol and Echo that the last thing he remembers is the run-up to his arrival at mako reactor 1 (FFVII OG, disk 1, chapter 1). Recall that usually, people summoned to Palamecia have no memories of their world of origin and lives before that point at all. So then why is it that upon being summoned to Palamecia, Cloud recalls the events that took place right before the start of the OG game? This strikes me as highly relevant since this is the exact point in time where post-OG Cloud’s consciousness needs to be transported to in order for Remake to begin, but I haven’t been able to figure out a solid hypothesis on what it could mean. My best guess is that this is the devs’ way of signalling to us that the events of the MFF x FFVII Remake collaboration occur before the very beginning of post-OG Cloud’s second try at the OG timeline (Remake).
Now that I’ve shown you how I’ve come to form my Mission Theory and we’ve done some pesky housekeeping, let’s connect some dots, shall we? It’s time to really get into it and see if any of my wild speculation tracks with content from the Remake trilogy so far.

V. Musical Evidence

What about the music of the game? Any hints there? Let’s try to see if we can find support for the Mission Theory in the music made for the Remake trilogy thus far!
As a preface to my musical evidence analysis, I want to insist on something: the story guys tell the soundtrack guys everything. In a high-quality production such as Remake, people who make music for audiovisual media are told everything in advance. They need to know the secrets of every little scene, because their job is to depict whatever is happening through music.
Therefore, if the Mission Theory is true, then there has to be musical evidence for it.
V. a) Preface: The Basics of the FFVII OST
There’s a lot of evidence in the music of the Remake trilogy that we have to address, but before we get into it, I do have to give you the basics of the FFVII soundscape! For the easiest experience, I suggest you keep a tab open for every link I provide for you until the music analysis is over, because we will be hopping from one musical theme to another and then back again.
V. a) i. The World Theme: Cloud’s Troubled Identity
The world theme of FFVII is a perfect example of how musicians working on an OST have to know the secrets of a story as they compose for it. On top of representing the FFVII world as a whole, it doubles as Cloud’s character theme… except that isn’t exactly right. You see, this piece does indeed contain Cloud’s true theme, but Sephiroth and Jenova’s musical motifs also contaminate it. This, of course, symbolizes how Cloud experiences identity sabotage because of these two antagonists. The result is that globally, the world theme does indeed represent Cloud’s character, but it isn’t exclusively Cloud’s in the same way that Cloud’s mind isn’t exclusively his. It’s brilliant storytelling through musical motifs, and evidently requires Uematsu to know in advance that Sephiroth manipulates Cloud’s identity in the story.
For future reference, let’s isolate Cloud’s true theme from Jenova and Sephiroth’s influence.
V. a) i. 1) Sephiroth: Dissonance and Semi-Tone Motif
I’m sure you know Sephiroth’s infamous theme: “One-Winged Angel”. The first motif we need to know is Sephiroth’s threatening, repetitive dissonance motif, which plays all throughout the piece (plays solo at 0:00 to 0:04). The second motif is what I call the semi-tone motif. “One-Winged Angel” has a ton of minor 2nd intervals, which is what we call the relationship between two notes that are only a semi-tone apart. You might recognize the minor 2nd interval in the foreboding Jaws theme. Just like in Jaws, the minor 2nd interval or semi-tone is commonly used to indicate an impending, life-threatening danger, a monster, predator, evil, or insanity; suits Sephiroth quite nicely!
V. a) i. 2) Jenova: Parasite Motif
The track “J-E-N-O-V-A” contains many competing melodies and has generated many variations of those melodies —almost like clones— that all represent aspects of the alien’s character. The main Jenova motif is simply a descending, two-octaves-long, arpeggiated mb6 chord (eight notes total). I’ve played it for you here. Sometimes, this motif is altered to form variations. For instance, in “Listen to the Cries of the Planet”, a variation of Jenova’s main motif is created by changing the order of the notes and reducing the number of notes to only six (0:00-0:03), however, it remains an arpeggiated mb6 chord. Regardless of the alteration, if you hear an arpeggiated mb6 chord, it means Jenova is creeping close by or that its influence is at work.
The variation of the mb6 arpeggiated chord that concerns us alters Jenova’s main theme so it ascends from the tonic to the b6 note and descends back to the tonic, then ending on the lower dominant for a total of eight notes. I’ve played it for you here. I call this variation the “parasite motif”, because it is often heard when Cloud is being controlled by Jenova. For instance, it plays when Cloud loses himself and becomes unusually violent in Rebirth’s chapter 13 (17:25-18:34), signalling to us that Jenova is in control. It is also the main motif of the track “Who… Am I?”, which evidently symbolizes Jenova’s fuelling of Cloud’s identity crisis— though here, the parasite motif is shortened to its six first notes.
V. a) i. 3) Cloud’s True Self
Now that we can recognize Sephiroth and Jenova’s motifs, let’s return to the world theme to isolate Cloud’s true self. Cloud’s true theme can be heard from 0:51 to 3:48. It consists of a section A (0:51-1:54), followed by a section B (1:54-2:41), and then returns to section A (2:41-3:48).
After Cloud’s true theme concludes however, it seems he experiences a psychic interference: doubt and confusion weave through the world theme (3:48-4:09), representing an instability in his identity. I call this interruption of Cloud’s true theme the “interference section”. It symbolizes a moment of psychic interference or weakness within Cloud that Sephiroth and Jenova take advantage of to take control of Cloud.
The end of the interference section introduces Jenova’s parasite motif. It slithers in (4:09), later joined by Sephiroth’s dissonance motif (4:16): Cloud’s mind and identity are being hijacked by the two antagonists in service of their evil plans.
They torment Cloud, dominating his mind until he manages to free himself: section A of Cloud’s true theme begins playing again (6:06), closing the loop of the theme.
Based on this musical storytelling, if you already knew the character motifs going into OG, you might’ve suspected something odd was going on with Cloud’s identity, and that Jenova and Sephiroth were involved. All this to say that whatever music is playing at any given time can give us hints as to what is going on. That’s the power and significance of a good soundtrack. Trust me when I say that with Uematsu and his team, we’re in excellent hands. And remember: the story guys tell the soundtrack guys everything.
V. a) ii. Aerith’s Theme
Another base we have to cover before checking out the Remake soundtrack is Aerith’s theme. I’m sure everyone here is familiar with it, but I insist that you refresh your memory. It consists of a section A (0:00-0:34), a section B (0:34-1:13) and a section C (1:13-2:00), concluding with a repeat of section A.
V. a) iii. Motifs and Timing in FFVII OSTs
I’m going to analyze pieces in great detail, which people who haven’t studied or paid attention to soundtracks may find strange. To prevent anyone from making the mistake of thinking that I’m reading too much into things, I want to emphasize that the music that plays during the Remaketrilogy’s cutscenes is carefully timed, composed and arranged to match the events in the cutscenes, as they are provided in advance to the musicians. Composers pay lots of attention to whatever is going on onscreen so they can include the corresponding musical motifs as accompaniment at the exact right moments, always striving to get the timing perfect. I’m not exaggerating the effort and minutia involved in soundtrack composition and arrangement. Here are just a few sound staff comments from the “Material 4: Soundtrack” section of the FFVII Remake Material Ultimania to prove it:

“[To] make sure players really feel the weight of the moment, we worked hard on getting the tempo and the entry timing of each instrument exactly right. In particular, that big ‘boom’ that sounds almost like a meteor crashing down was fine-tuned to match the timing of the logo's appearance. I remember this was a real sticking point for us, because if the boom's timing was even slightly off, the effect would be completely different. We […] had to sequence [each and every sound] to play at exactly the right moment” (Shotaro Shima on track “Midgar, City of Mako”, page 229).

&

“I was originally told to keep this piece to under two minutes, but it ended up being over six minutes long, in order to match the flow of the cutscene. I arranged the track while watching the latest CG visuals that had been rendered for the scene” (Naoyuki Honzawa on track “Smash ‘Em, Rip ‘Em”, page 309).

&

“This is the track that plays during the tour of Shinra’s different divisions. The movie shown in the Visual Entertainment Hall describes the history of the Ancients (0:25 onward in the soundtrack version), and I wanted to create a musical link to them as well, so I made use of the chord progression from ‘Aerith’s Theme’ [D(I)-Am(Vm)-D(I).] [This simple sequence of moving from major to minor and back again creates a really mysterious air. Then, during the section where the movie recounts the history of the construction of the Shinra Building (1:47 onward in the soundtrack version), I quoted a section of the Shinra theme” (Yasunori Nishiki on track “Stewards of the Planet”, page 313).

V. b) The Remake OST
Now that you’re ready, it’s time to verify the Mission Theory’s validity with Remake’s music.
V. b) i. MOTF 6 Music
We were able to explain Remake Cloud’s MOTFs with the Mission Theory, and it just so happens that the music that plays during the scene of MOTF 6 is unique to Remake. This gives us the perfect opportunity: we should analyze the piece that plays as it occurs to evaluate the legitimacy of our theory on the Remake trilogy, using all the motifs we uncovered in section “V. a)”.
First, a refresher on the scene and on our theory’s interpretation of it. The party is gathered in Aerith and Ifalna’s old room at Shinra HQ. Here is how the scene is described by the VA script notes:

“The Whispers once again close in [on Aerith], but Aerith refuses to stop speaking this time.
Aerith: Listen to me. […] Shinra isn’t the enemy. They were the ones who set things in motion, but our true foe is someone else.
At that moment, the spectacle of Meteor they saw in the Visual Entertainment Hall comes into Cloud and the others’ heads.
Aerith: Somehow, some way, I want to help— all of you… the planet…
For some reason, Cloud feels his chest constrict tightly” (FFVII Remake Material Ultimania Plus, VA script notes, “Aerith Speaks”).

Indeed, right after Aerith says she wants to help the planet any way she can, Cloud looks down at his chest with a frown and a quiet grunt (7:46-7:54). According to the Mission Theory, this tightness in Cloud’s chest can be explained as an emergence of post-OG Cloud’s grief, triggered by the slightest allusion to Aerith’s sacrifice.
The piece that plays during this scene is called “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”. It is one of many variations of Aerith’s iconic theme arranged for Remake. However, Cloud’s theme is just as prominent in the piece— if not, more.
V. b) i. 1) The Fate Motif
Before we interpret “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”, I need to introduce you to one more motif that crops up in the piece. There is a windy motif that appears (from 1:45 onwards) and it is unaccounted for, despite how it’s clearly meant to represent something. I’ve become certain that this wind noise symbolizes fate, and I’ll tell you why.
In the MOTF 6 scene, just after Nanaki explains how he gained knowledge of the Whispers via contact with Aerith (7:23), they emerge and begin swirling aggressively around Aerith (7:26). Her hair and dress blow and ripple in the resulting wind. From this very moment onward “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” (3:00), a string section (bowed instruments in the violin family) that deliberately emphasizes the airy sound of the bow crossing the strings enters, creating a windy effect that adds to the already present wind noise (that started at 1:45). As the Whispers progressively become even more aggressive onscreen, both the wind SFX of the cutscene and the wind noise in the piece get louder and louder. Because of the timing of its appearance and crescendo in the cutscene, I’m certain the wind noise is meant to represent the restrictive flow of fate; it only makes sense, given that destiny is a current —or a wind— that cannot be broken, and Aerith is like a helpless petal in fate’s carefully planned storm. Of course, it’s also quite significant that the Whispers make a windy noise as they fly. You can hear it every time they’re onscreen, like when they first appear to Cloud in chapter 2 of Remake (17:45-18:20), or when the White Whispers hold Cloud back from chasing after Aerith during Rebirth’s Sleeping Forest scene in chapter 14 (28:43-29:45). You can also hear the wind sounds in other Whisper-related tracks, such as “Whorl of Whispers” (clearly audible at 2:50-3:05), as well as “A Death Not Ordained by Fate” (clearly audible at 2:56-3:18). Therefore, I’ll call these wind noises the “fate motif”.
V. b) ii. 2) Interpreting “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra”
In part 1 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” (0:00-1:45), Aerith’s theme and Cloud’s true theme play simultaneously, their respective phrases fitting perfectly together, interweaving peacefully and softly. It sounds like the two of them are chatting, dancing bashfully yet contently and in perfect sync, glad to be exactly where they’re meant to be as their themes sing together in harmony (soft piano). Part 1 of this piece is about Cloud and Aerith becoming important to one another as they discover their soulmate bond.
Unfortunately that contentment doesn’t last. In part 2 (1:45-3:00), Cloud experiences a moment of psychic vulnerability (world theme’s interference section). Fate lurks (fate motif enters quietly). His instability forces our couple’s sweet dance to a halt, and Aerith’s theme must retreat as Cloud’s confusion takes center stage. Sephiroth torments and taunts him (semi-tone played by strings, 2:03-2:10), taking advantage of Cloud’s psychic interference to plunge him into darkness (world theme’s interference section ends, low cello enters, 2:18): Cloud temporarily becomes a darker version of himself as evil corrupts him (piano plays section A phrases 1 and 2 of Cloud’s true theme in minor, 2:18-2:53). Jenova finally reveals itself and promptly exits, releasing Cloud’s mind from its grasp (seven first notes of parasite motif played twice on piano 2:53-3:00). Cloud is free, but the damage has been done: his dance with Aerith has long been interrupted, and she is gone. Part 2 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is about Cloud being manipulated in service of Sephiroth and Jenova’s evil plan, interrupting his interaction with Aerith.
Part 3 (3:00-3:33) kicks off the mechanisms of a tragic fate (strings section joins fate motif, 3:00). Both anxious that she’s disappeared from his side and terrified of the darkness he just discovered inside him (in part 2), Cloud fearfully calls out for Aerith (phrase 1 of Cloud’s true theme’s section A, timid and hesitant piano, 3:04-3:15). Before his psychic interference began (start of part 2), Cloud’s voice was accompanied by Aerith’s as they grew closer and closer (their character themes mingling in part 1)… but now, Aerith isn’t answering his call, and he cannot find her (Aerith’s theme doesn’t to join Cloud’s anymore).
Anxious, Cloud tries calling out for Aerith a second time (section A phrase 2 of Cloud’s true theme’s, 3:19-3:31), searching for her in the hopes that they can continue their dance, but even now, Aerith does not respond. She’s gone (Aerith’s theme remains absent). Destiny keeps Aerith away from Cloud (fate motif gently crescendos). Part 3 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is about Cloud’s separation from Aerith, his search for her, and the fear and anxiousness he feels when he realizes he cannot find her.
And then, part 4 begins with a sweet, gentle voice, calling out from the blackened horizon: it’s Aerith (section B phrase 1 of Aerith’s theme, soft piano, 3:33-3:45). Cloud finally hears her respond to his pleas: he’s found her. Fate begins howling in protest, doubling its efforts to keep Cloud and Aerith apart (fate motif crescendos noticeably in reaction to Aerith’s theme, 3:45). You can just picture Cloud running toward Aerith, struggling against the current of destiny to try and close the distance between them. Aerith tries calling out for Cloud a second time, (section B phrase 2 of Aerith’s theme, 3:40-3:43), but the Whispers only swirl around her more ferociously, taking her away in the uncompromising current of fate (fate motif continues to crescendo). Aerith tries again (section B phrase 1 of Aerith’s theme, 3:47-3:49). It sounds like she’s saying “Cloud, I’m over here, come find me!”
Fate doesn’t take too kindly to her defying it. Cloud and Aerith are not supposed to be together; it can’t be, it won’t. She’s destined to die to save the planet, and he’s destined to remain hollow forevermore. I can picture Cloud breaking into a sprint at the sound of her voice, running countercurrent to the flow of destiny— but the winds are so loud, fate’s demands are so strong, and the Whispers are shrieking in defense of destiny now. Aerith’s voice emerges for the fourth time (first three notes of section B phrase 3 of Aerith’s theme, 3:54 to 3:56). Fate screams louder, louder (steep crescendo of fate motif, 3:59-4:02). In a desperate hail Mary, Aerith shouts out one more time, as though throwing her hand out toward Cloud’s extended fingers (section C phrase 1 of Aerith’s theme, louder and more insistent, cutting through the fate motif as it crescendos sharply, 4:00-4:06). Part 4 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” is about Cloud and Aerith desperately trying to defy fate in order to be together. And then, it all stops: fate has seemingly quieted Aerith (4:04-4:08)…
Part 5 (4:08-4:27) begins with Cloud jumping, launching himself off the ground with all his strength (Cloud’s true theme section A phrase 2, first 5 notes, melody starting on the note E5 and ascending) as Aerith plummets toward the ground in a fatal fall (Aerith’s theme section C phrase 1, melody starting on the note E6 and descending, the last note altered)— he successfully catches her in mid-air (both Cloud’s ascending melody and Aerith’s descending melody meet in the middle of the octave, first uniting on B5, and then ending on A5). I’ve recreated the melodies for you here so you can hear this reunion more clearly. If you consider that the airy strings in this piece represent fate, which I do, the fact that they follow Cloud and Aerith’s themes in part 5 signifies that they are now in control of their own destinies, and successfully making it their fate to reunite.
To be completely frank, I did not realize until right now writing this that Cloud unites with Aerith in part 5, even though his theme is right there. I’m so excited to share this part with you.
We hear Aerith once more, her voice quietly trailing off into the silence (phrase 4 of section C of Aerith’s theme) with no conclusion (phrase 5 normally follows phrase 4 to conclude Aerith’s theme, but is absent here). Part 5 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” suggests that Cloud will save Aerith and that the couple will change their fate, but also conveys an uncertain and open-ended quality.
(continued in part 5)

OK, so first I will include the information on the piercing. The age of the piercing is past the two month mark by most likely a few weeks I believe I have a Labret metal, but I’m not entirely sure what it’s called, it’s the one that curves. I have two kinds of the metal bar one is longer and one is shorter and I prefer the shorter one and so does my piercer. It’s a really sweet family run local piercing place where absolutely everyone gets their piercings done where I live. In my aftercare process I was just spraying saline on it and padding a dry. I never ever took the piercing out and the only time it came out was when I was given the shorter bars. And I have no clue what this threading business means all I know is that this piercing is internal.
Now, I’m going to get into what actually happened on why my piercing is even out. So I received a comment from my friend yesterday and she told me I should shave my mustache because it’s really bad and I explained to her I can’t really do that with the piercing when I got home I decided I was gonna shave it because I was embarrassed of my mustache so I took them out. I shave my mustache. It hurt a little bit when taking the piercings out but nothing abnormally painful just a little sting.
And when I tried to put them in one went in, but I had to push it through and I struck a nerve in my mouth, causing me to become faint and drowsy in the moment. I also heard a really loud noise in both of my ears. I don’t remember what the noise sounded like, but there was a very loud noise. The top of my head also felt like I was suffering from a chemical burn.
My grandpa threw or lost one of the two piercings.
Please please please help me on what to do. I really don’t want to get rid of this piercing and I don’t want to go anywhere without the piercing in and I have to go somewhere very soon so if anybody has any tips or help on what I can do, please let me know and I tried contacting the piercing shop, but they are closed today until 11 so when they open, I will try to message them.
Thank you for reading this post, if you have any suggestions, please let me know because I’m willing to try anything. All I’ve been doing is crying for yesterday and today because I just want these piercings back and I’m terrified that if I wait too long, I’m gonna have to pay to get them re-pierced and I really don’t have the kind of money for that.