Bulge in basketball shorts
nba2: A whole new way to look at the NBA on Reddit
2012.09.15 22:23 nba2: A whole new way to look at the NBA on Reddit
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2024.05.16 17:51 Sikatanan The Book of Brunson: What I found rewatching all 244 of his two-point attempts [OC]
You are Jalen Brunson. (Cool feeling, right?) You catch the ball on the right wing and weave together some between-the-legs dribbles while you contemplate how you should score. Pound dribble to a step-back? The double-crossover-to-hesi combo to get to the paint for a classic floater?
Not this time. You call up good ole’ Isaiah Hartenstein — love that guy — for a pick, but it’s a ruse. As he approaches, you flash the quickest in-and-out in the land and reject the screen, blowing by your hapless defender like the Road Runner lapping the Coyote. Layup drills aren’t this easy.
As Knicks fall around him like so many orange, autumnal leaves, Brunson just keeps carving a path to points. He’s had five 40-burgers in 11 playoff games. There aren’t many guards in the league with as diverse a shotmaking profile. I wanted to dig deeper and figure out how he got all these buckets, particularly the ones inside the arc, where the artistry happens.
A shot chart can show you where the shots happened (sort of), but they can’t show you what kind of attempt it was. The NBA assigns a type to every shot, but the descriptions are both inconsistent and wrong too often to be useful for a micro-analysis like this. So, I hit the tape. I rewatched all of Brunson’s 244 two-point attempts from these playoffs and categorized them into several shot types (there is some discretion involved, art and science, but I tried my best to be consistent).
Here’s how he scores inside the arc, from least prolific to most. The Book of Brunson, if you will (or if you will not; that’s what I’m calling it, regardless). It starts a little slow, but I promise it gets exciting toward the end. Kind of like every single Knicks playoff game.
[Thanks for reading! I've collected nearly a dozen video clips illustrating my points. I think they add a lot to the post! They can be found in-context here or at the various links I've put throughout.]
When I played 2K (back when a single digit followed the “2K” prefix, yikes), that was called the “rim-grazer” package. Barely gets over the cylinder. Still counts!
I digress. Back to cuts. Synergy has him in the fourth percentile for the share of shots finished off of cuts; it’s not his jam. By my count, Brunson has had precisely three field goal attempts off cuts in 11 playoff games. Two went in. For what it’s worth, Hartenstein had the assist on both (and in fact, Hartenstein’s 10 total playoff assists to Brunson are more than anyone else on the roster). Here’s one: [video here]
Understandably, the Pacers were not expecting it. Neither was I, but then again, I’m not paid eight figures to stop him.
But every once in a while, someone will poke the ball loose and toss it up to Brunson. He’ll catch it, dribble, lay it up. Most of the time, he makes it; sometimes, he misses it. If it doesn’t sound that exciting, well, it’s not.
If you want to see one, here it is. I appreciate how he uses his weirdly broad shoulders to create space around the rim: [video here]
Brunson can’t really throw it down in a highlight kind of way (except that one time when he did!). Fast-break Brunson layups are about as dull as fast-break layups can be. Let’s move on.
I mean, look at this thing. It’s gorgeous. The footwork, the arc, everything. And always — always! — using that left shoulder as a pole to spin around: [video here]
These are difficult shots, but by my count, he’s shooting 62% on turnarounds! That’s wild. I wonder if he shouldn’t take more of these and fewer step-backs, although these are a bit harder to get off with bigger bodies on him. Brunson knows what he’s doing; I shan’t second-guess him.
But it’s always fun seeing him break defenders in half on the way to the hoop like it’s the most casual thing in the world: [video here]
It isn’t casual, though. It’s a lot of work. I’m stressed about the impact of all this acceleration and deceleration on his joints, ligaments, and bones, and despite what the tenor of this piece may lead you to believe, I’m not even a Knicks fan.
I’m also stressed you’ll judge me by my chosen highlights, spent more time than I care to admit picking ones that will prove to you that I’m both knowledgeable and a little hipster. Brunson made Nesmith touch parquet twice in the ongoing series (which hurt me; I’m a huge Nesmith guy), but that’s a little too cool to be cool, you know what I mean? Here’s where I landed. Brunson’s not as big a pass-fake guy as you might expect, but he sure does love to pretend that a pick is coming: [video here]
Ah, now I’m second-guessing myself. Oh well. You know what Brunson layups look like. It’s all crazy dribble combinations and shot fakes in fits and spurts, starts and stops, that somehow end with him blurring to the hoop for a high-arcing shot off the glass.
Floaters are a weapon of last resort for too many point guards, the shot they puke up when they can’t get past their man. That can be true for Brunson at times, too.
But Brunson has weaponized the floater, often by using it to bait fouls. If he gets the hostage dribble on a defender, putting them on his back, you better believe he’s gonna throw the ball upward and his body backward to get the whistle (I thought they legislated that out of the game, but nobody told the refs judging Brunson). That’s not my favorite play, of course, but it’s hard to deny the effectiveness.
He launches floaters from everywhere and anywhere. Leaning left, leaning right, falling down. Contested, wide-open, in the middle of four bodies. Occasionally, Brunson reminds me of classic fight-movie scenes in which the protagonist is drowning in enemy combatants, buried so you can’t even see him, when he suddenly springs up, spraying bad guys everywhere: [video here]
People say Brunson is good at getting to his spots, as if there is a finite number. I don’t really agree. All spots are Brunson spots; the floater will come from whatever direction he chooses.
Midrange jumpers are generally looked down upon. You can see from my points-per-shot calculation how much less efficient they’ve been than everything else, but that’s the nature of the beast. Just because they don’t always go in doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate them.
Sometimes, it’s hard to manufacture even sub-optimal offense (and that’s particularly true in the playoffs). Sometimes, you gotta go out there and cook; as long as the meal’s not burnt, it’ll do. And sometimes, it’ll be g*dd*mn delicious: [video here]
In truth, many of these possessions are ticking grenades, and it’s up to our hero to jump on them. The Knicks try to run their offense, nobody else can do a dang thing off the dribble (not, mind you, that they receive many chances), and suddenly there are six seconds left on the shot clock. Brunson, thankfully, can do a whole lot in six seconds. This is great defense; it doesn’t matter: [video here]
The midrange isn’t dead; like wealth, it has simply consolidated into the hands of the few. Only players with sufficient star wattage are allowed to take them. And with a playoff run for the ages, Brunson’s been outshining nearly everyone.
submitted by Sikatanan to NYKnicks [link] [comments]
Not this time. You call up good ole’ Isaiah Hartenstein — love that guy — for a pick, but it’s a ruse. As he approaches, you flash the quickest in-and-out in the land and reject the screen, blowing by your hapless defender like the Road Runner lapping the Coyote. Layup drills aren’t this easy.
As Knicks fall around him like so many orange, autumnal leaves, Brunson just keeps carving a path to points. He’s had five 40-burgers in 11 playoff games. There aren’t many guards in the league with as diverse a shotmaking profile. I wanted to dig deeper and figure out how he got all these buckets, particularly the ones inside the arc, where the artistry happens.
A shot chart can show you where the shots happened (sort of), but they can’t show you what kind of attempt it was. The NBA assigns a type to every shot, but the descriptions are both inconsistent and wrong too often to be useful for a micro-analysis like this. So, I hit the tape. I rewatched all of Brunson’s 244 two-point attempts from these playoffs and categorized them into several shot types (there is some discretion involved, art and science, but I tried my best to be consistent).
Here’s how he scores inside the arc, from least prolific to most. The Book of Brunson, if you will (or if you will not; that’s what I’m calling it, regardless). It starts a little slow, but I promise it gets exciting toward the end. Kind of like every single Knicks playoff game.
[Thanks for reading! I've collected nearly a dozen video clips illustrating my points. I think they add a lot to the post! They can be found in-context here or at the various links I've put throughout.]
7) THE DUNK
1 make, 0 misses, 0 FTM, 2.00 Points Per Shot (PPS)
Brunson is listed at 73 inches tall. If you believe that, I’ve got a bridge not too far from Madison Square Garden I can sell you. He only had three dunks in 77 regular season games, but he had one threadbare yet magnificent jam in these playoffs. Here it is: [video here]When I played 2K (back when a single digit followed the “2K” prefix, yikes), that was called the “rim-grazer” package. Barely gets over the cylinder. Still counts!
6) Cuts
2 makes, 1 miss, 1 FTM, 1.67 PPS
Here’s the thing about Brunson. Brunson makes Brunson happen. He doesn’t need passes from teammates; he needs them to set picks, space the floor, and stay out of the way. In the regular season, 23% of his two-pointers were assisted, a low number. In the playoffs, that’s fallen to 15%. And calling some of these “assists” feels generous. You tell me how much the pass here had to do with Brunson scoring: [video here]I digress. Back to cuts. Synergy has him in the fourth percentile for the share of shots finished off of cuts; it’s not his jam. By my count, Brunson has had precisely three field goal attempts off cuts in 11 playoff games. Two went in. For what it’s worth, Hartenstein had the assist on both (and in fact, Hartenstein’s 10 total playoff assists to Brunson are more than anyone else on the roster). Here’s one: [video here]
Understandably, the Pacers were not expecting it. Neither was I, but then again, I’m not paid eight figures to stop him.
5) Transition
6 makes, 3 misses, 3 FTM, 1.67 PPS
The Knicks, famously, are the slowest team in the league, and they’ve crawled in the playoffs. Might be too tired from the heavy minutes; have to save your energy for offensive rebounds, I get it. Josh Hart carries most of the transition load.But every once in a while, someone will poke the ball loose and toss it up to Brunson. He’ll catch it, dribble, lay it up. Most of the time, he makes it; sometimes, he misses it. If it doesn’t sound that exciting, well, it’s not.
If you want to see one, here it is. I appreciate how he uses his weirdly broad shoulders to create space around the rim: [video here]
Brunson can’t really throw it down in a highlight kind of way (except that one time when he did!). Fast-break Brunson layups are about as dull as fast-break layups can be. Let’s move on.
4) Spinning (usually) fadeaways over his (always) left shoulder
13 makes, 8 misses, 2 FTM, 1.33 PPS
Okay, now we’re getting to the good stuff. I will lump most of Brunson’s middies together, as you’ll see shortly, but I am partial to the aesthetics of the spinning fadeaway.I mean, look at this thing. It’s gorgeous. The footwork, the arc, everything. And always — always! — using that left shoulder as a pole to spin around: [video here]
These are difficult shots, but by my count, he’s shooting 62% on turnarounds! That’s wild. I wonder if he shouldn’t take more of these and fewer step-backs, although these are a bit harder to get off with bigger bodies on him. Brunson knows what he’s doing; I shan’t second-guess him.
3) Layups and blow-bys
29 makes, 23 misses, 19 FTM, 1.48 PPS
Layups are a massive part of Brunson’s shot diet, even if it’s harder for him to get to the rim than some of his less-normal-sized peers in the league. Shot a little better doing these against Philly with a jump-less Embiid than against Indiana, where he has gone just 14-for-29 by my count (although he’s drawn a handful of fouls, so that’s a bit misleading).But it’s always fun seeing him break defenders in half on the way to the hoop like it’s the most casual thing in the world: [video here]
It isn’t casual, though. It’s a lot of work. I’m stressed about the impact of all this acceleration and deceleration on his joints, ligaments, and bones, and despite what the tenor of this piece may lead you to believe, I’m not even a Knicks fan.
I’m also stressed you’ll judge me by my chosen highlights, spent more time than I care to admit picking ones that will prove to you that I’m both knowledgeable and a little hipster. Brunson made Nesmith touch parquet twice in the ongoing series (which hurt me; I’m a huge Nesmith guy), but that’s a little too cool to be cool, you know what I mean? Here’s where I landed. Brunson’s not as big a pass-fake guy as you might expect, but he sure does love to pretend that a pick is coming: [video here]
Ah, now I’m second-guessing myself. Oh well. You know what Brunson layups look like. It’s all crazy dribble combinations and shot fakes in fits and spurts, starts and stops, that somehow end with him blurring to the hoop for a high-arcing shot off the glass.
2) Floaters
30 makes, 32 misses, 18 FTM, 1.26 PPS
The infamous Brunson floater. A cruel tool, one the Geneva Convention was specifically designed to combat. It’s unstoppable (except when it’s stopped).Floaters are a weapon of last resort for too many point guards, the shot they puke up when they can’t get past their man. That can be true for Brunson at times, too.
But Brunson has weaponized the floater, often by using it to bait fouls. If he gets the hostage dribble on a defender, putting them on his back, you better believe he’s gonna throw the ball upward and his body backward to get the whistle (I thought they legislated that out of the game, but nobody told the refs judging Brunson). That’s not my favorite play, of course, but it’s hard to deny the effectiveness.
He launches floaters from everywhere and anywhere. Leaning left, leaning right, falling down. Contested, wide-open, in the middle of four bodies. Occasionally, Brunson reminds me of classic fight-movie scenes in which the protagonist is drowning in enemy combatants, buried so you can’t even see him, when he suddenly springs up, spraying bad guys everywhere: [video here]
People say Brunson is good at getting to his spots, as if there is a finite number. I don’t really agree. All spots are Brunson spots; the floater will come from whatever direction he chooses.
1) Step-backs, side-steps, pull-ups, and other hyphenates
31 makes, 45 misses, 12 FTM, 0.97 PPS
Even excluding the turnaround fadeaways and floaters, Brunson has shot more midrange jumpers than any other type of shot. Yeah, that’s sort of cheating; I’m lumping many different kinds of buckets into one bucket. Maybe it’s too broad to be useful. But frankly, some of these are hard to differentiate (and also, this post would be too long; if you’re still here, I appreciate you. Know that this started off being much longer in a way that benefitted no one.). You’d think it would be easy to tell a pull-up from a side-step, but I swear Brunson can combine these in ways that somehow don’t defy the laws of basketball (i.e., traveling). It’s hard, so eventually, I decided to lump them all together.Midrange jumpers are generally looked down upon. You can see from my points-per-shot calculation how much less efficient they’ve been than everything else, but that’s the nature of the beast. Just because they don’t always go in doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate them.
Sometimes, it’s hard to manufacture even sub-optimal offense (and that’s particularly true in the playoffs). Sometimes, you gotta go out there and cook; as long as the meal’s not burnt, it’ll do. And sometimes, it’ll be g*dd*mn delicious: [video here]
In truth, many of these possessions are ticking grenades, and it’s up to our hero to jump on them. The Knicks try to run their offense, nobody else can do a dang thing off the dribble (not, mind you, that they receive many chances), and suddenly there are six seconds left on the shot clock. Brunson, thankfully, can do a whole lot in six seconds. This is great defense; it doesn’t matter: [video here]
The midrange isn’t dead; like wealth, it has simply consolidated into the hands of the few. Only players with sufficient star wattage are allowed to take them. And with a playoff run for the ages, Brunson’s been outshining nearly everyone.
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Remember to check our Ai Generator: CandyAI
2024.05.16 16:39 shesonearth I don't know what to do I tried the nice route.
So we live in a subdivision and we have a neighbor on one side and they were on the other side so the neighbors who moved in because we were here first and it's a brand new subdivision they are pretty cool they keep themselves they are kind of private just like us, the other neighbors beside us they from the start have been very adamant and in your face kind of neighbors
But that's not the issue the issue is how we ended up on meeting and what's been going on ever since
Usually my family we go ahead and we take my children myself and my husband to go knock or ring the doorbell and introduce ourselves and strike up friendly conversation etc, this is how we see it appropriate or just meeting everybody so we're not going back and forth then doing that whole thing we just want to get it out the way and have everybody meet everybody
So I'm working from home in my home and my husband is outside playing basketball with my children and the neighbors who are kind of in your face are home but the husband and the wife are home and the children the woman next door sends her children inside and then walks over to my husband and just loudly just waves him over and she's like always your wife home and he's like she's busy, and she just like oh I wanted to meet all y'all and all this other stuff and she just said that her children have been trying to meet my children and it was kind of odd because she sent them in before she came over to say hello to my husband and didn't bring her children to say hello to my children who are out there playing basketball with my husband also she didn't make it a point to go inside and get her husband who was also in the home to come outside so they can all collectively say hello which was kind of off-putting.
But nothing else was thought of it so it had been a while since any interaction, me and my children ended up bumping into her husband on our way to the mailbox and we had a conversation and said hello and a few things and my children met his children they started to play because they actually wanted to meet them just like she said and what not so we let them play for a little bit we only just talked for a moment and then I left went back home and then shortly later in the day the whole family comes and shows up to our home I guess he told her that we had a conversation and the children played so I guess she then wanted to come and meet me.
So they show up to the door they come at dinner time and we're just kind of in a rush and so we all say hello and this is when the red flag weird stuff starts to happen is after her husband is standing in front of her she's lightly kind of behind him so he can't really see what she's doing but she's just like back and forth staring down my husband like a piece of meat, giggling and trying to catch his gays repeatedly, and then looking back and forth at her husband trying to see if he's looking or not she didn't look at me one time while she was standing on my porch and then I made a comment and said that I had met one of her relatives when I was going on a bike ride and she said that she likes my hair and my outfit and she said oh okay and then she continued to glance back and forth at my husband and her husband and she had no interest in me and having any kind of conversation or real meeting of hello or anything.
So after that it left a bitter taste in my mouth because people like that they tend to have it all but they need more and they need like attention from the outside even though they have everything right in front of them they can't really see it. but anyway she struck me as this attention seeker and it turns out she actually is.
so her whole family came to the door, we were eating dinner, and they wanted to know if our children could come out and play and I said we just sat down to eat and you can tell that she was bothered by that and bothered by the fact that I answered the door because before she came up she was primping herself on the doorbell camera,
So I let her know that we would be coming out later after we're done so we go over and then I have her children come out and play with my children for a little bit.
We end up having a conversation while they were playing and at first she did seem kind of genuine but then she started to get over the top and just started saying I was so funny and she kept hitting me and trying to be buddy buddy and over and over again putting her hands on me laughing and it was very off putting and very fake feeling like she was trying to get bloody buddy with me somehow very quickly.
She referred to my husband as Daddy and it was kind of off-putting the way she had said it and then because I didn't like the way she said, what about daaaadyy is what she said when she asked about my husbands involvement in our day today which was kind of weird.
So I went ahead and when we were talking I said it back to her yeah your children probably need daddy too and I said exactly how she did and hopefully she got the head but nope and also she was asking me for advice about staying home and needing to be out just needing to be doing something because her husband was taken care of her too much and working but he wasn't even working a lot he work from home and in the office but he said she didn't have to and that he takes care of her but she doesn't want him to she wants to just be out there in the streets essentially doing something and being seen.
Her words not mine.
And she said she can't help it because she had her children she doesn't want to be just cooped up in the house everyday or something like that.
And so that was kind of off-putting and then I mentioned focusing on your family like being present with them and focusing solely on them reaps really good benefits because you create a closer Bond and you don't need outside anything to feel complete essentially what you have is inside of you and I just kind of reference that when she kept saying that she needs to just be on the go when she can't sit still and she said her husband always says that he's got her and that their mom needs them and things like that and I said I agree because I know how I am with my children and I have my children all the time and my family works really great because of the way our dynamic works and I tried to like give some knowledge and information to her but she kind of wasn't hearing it and didn't seem interested really in that dynamic.
So after that day she text me and wants me to go to the park with him but I'm in the shower and I never see her text message till I'm done and I have like this whole routine so it takes about an hour or so until she's just like in the park and I finally text her back the park is up the street and I text her back and she's just like kind of upset that I didn't show up and that's understandable but I did let her know like hey I was busy and I didn't see your text message can we try and do something else and so I let her know that we can have the boys hang out and we hang out tomorrow and then the next day me and my kids went for a walk and she was also on a walk with her child, we briefly passed each other cuz I'm coming out of my house and she's entering up the sidewalk to the driveway to her house she sees me and I just kind of stand there waiting so I can wave her and she just like looks through me and continues to walk
So I didn't think anything of I just kind of laughed to myself because it was kind of a petty cuz she clearly saw me but whatever but I texted her when I got back from the walk and said hey I saw you on our walk a few minutes ago I don't know if you saw me, but I just wanted to let you know that the boys are available at this x amount of time, she text me back later lets me know the time works out so the boys and I come out there later on that day at that time then this was before our dinner time so I tried to accompany and accommodate, my children are out there playing basketball and this woman literally at the exact time at her children are supposed to be out there text me and said one of her children were in trouble and can't come out there we'll catch you all next time
And I said thanks for the courtesy etc and so the next time we saw her was when my husband was cutting the grass I was inside doing some housework he was outside cutting the grass with my children running back and forth doing everything like they usually do and so during that time she makes her way outside and she's got this really short pink dress on and it's like really cold outside and it was just like really alarming to me and she's just like out there walking around sweeping her front porch and then like while my husband is cutting the side that's closest to their house she's like back to back with him and she just makes it a point to be like hey how you doing and just other stuff even though earlier in the day when we got home we both wave to them from the car and said hey and so it was kind of odd that she made another appearance to try and speak to my husband, he brought this to my attention and he said that he was very brief about it because he knows how things are between me and her and how we revives were between us and so he just briefly said Hi and then turn back around and kept cutting the grass and so I guess that wasn't enough attention for her
So after he was done cutting the grass I never took myself outside even though he said that she was out there and was trying to strike up a conversation, after that and he started to do the wrap up , but the hose away put the gutters back on and all that stuff blow the grass away.
And so basically I get a notification on my phone from the doorbell camera and the garage camera went off as well and I'm like okay someone has been spotted that's what it says and I look and I see this person standing there in a pink dress mini dress she's right there in front of my house sweeping the grass out of my driveway and sweep in the grass almost basically to the other side of the neighbor's house she's directly in front of my house sweeping my grass up going back and forth essentially waiting for my husband to come out there and I don't know what have an interaction talk I don't know look at me I'm cleaning up your grass I have no idea
And so I let my husband know like I see this happening right now on the camera and then he's just like I'm about to go cook dinner he goes to go cook dinner and I let him know I'm going to handle the cleanup and then I go out there with the broom and I walk out there I don't say anything to her and I just started sweeping and then she looks shocked to see me cuz I don't even think she knew I was home because the car wasn't in the driveway and then she just walks past and she's just wiping her nose and has her head down and she just walks back up to her driveway, her husband was cutting the grass on the other side of the house by the way her children were running around but she was in front of my house and in my driveway back and forth sweeping my grass instead of over there helping her husband with his yard work she was in my driveway and the other side of my yard sweeping the grass
And then she just after she gets back to her side of the house she's just like hey how you doing? And I say good and then I keep sweeping and then like she got this like grin on her face and she's just like see that I'm like visibly like annoyed with her and so she just keeps it moving, and so after that I went to the house and got the leaf blower and just started blowing the grass out so I can get back in the house cuz I was just like I was just really irritable, I'm blowing the grass and then I hear her come up right behind me and say hey hey where did you get that leaf blower at and I turned around and I said I don't know it's old and then I continue to blow the grass away and I guess she took the hat because I was pretty Stern with it and I think she came back to say something to me to see if I was in a good mood or to see if I was still like angry essentially because she got caught doing what she was doing
I didn't sugar coat when I spoke to her and I'm thinking okay she got the hint. And then a few days later she tried to make a playdate and then I said my children are unavailable at that time then, we were going to a nearby Creek and taking my children they wanted to go and we ate before we left we were going to leave around like 4:30 and so we didn't leave at 4:30 we ate and then we were going to leave now as we are eating I get a notification on the doorbell camera and the garage camera yet again and it says person has been spotted I checked the camera and she's out there walking back and forth back and forth back and forth with her children trying to see if we're going to come out trying to see if she can wave at us in miraculous and any kind of way I don't know but she's in front of our house her house on the complete other side and she's just back and forth walking with them
And we ended up leaving a close to 5:00 p.m. so by that time she already went in the house
And after that I just was done with any kind of interactions with her because she is very off putting and she gives off this vibe and energy of I am being fake. And I have an ulterior motive and I need to Garner attention from Men even though I have one.
Even the guy next to us was outside cleaning his car and then her husband was in the house yet again and after he went inside I guess he was like busy , So she took it upon herself to scream across the yard and say ooh that looks good. Referring to his car and so he comes over and then starts talking to her across from our yard and and her yard and she starts complimenting his car ridiculously and was just asking a bunch of stuff about his car and his pain and and what he does and how does he get it to look like that and just a bunch of stuff and what crossed my mind was the whole married women complimenting another man's car perfusively was kind of off-putting.
And so they carried conversation for a while and then to the point that he ended up getting his phone and trying to show her something about his paint job and then he actually paused before he actually had her come over and like look at the phone and she goes oh you can send it to me and I don't know if they have each other's numbers or whatever but I heard her say that and then he actually paused and said I sent it to your husband actually and then she was just like oh okay and then she stopped the conversation and went in the house
Just yesterday because we haven't had a moment to cut the grass in a while my husband cut the grass after he got off of work so me and the children were outside and we were all doing yard work like we usually do I was trimming and the boys were trimming and picking things up in the yard and she pulls up. Usually she picks up her kids and then goes in the home closes the garage and we don't see her the rest of the day, but since we are all out here and my husband's got in the grass she made it a point to pull up leave the garage open open trunk and just bring her kids out and have them running around in the driveway which I knew was going to happen, because whenever my husband's out there she makes it a point to be out there but when I hop out she flies inside of her house
So I'm out there packing up my grass and I was done because my mom had called and so I'm on the phone with her and my husband is starting to cut the side of the grass closest to her house and so, I say on the phone and I'm just like talking on the phone while looking into her driveway and garage knowing that she's going to pop out at any second to try and get some kind of attention from my husband because she's been doing that, she actually came out when I was right there just waiting and then she briefly raised her hand and waved while my husband didn't see her so he's over pushing the mower back and forth back and forth and conveniently she's in the garage going from one side of the car to the next side of the car from one side of the car to the next side of the car she did this about eight times
And he never looked her way didn't give her any kind of attention so eventually she went ahead and close the garage cuz I guess she saw me actually noticing what she was doing so she closed the garage and went house so my husband stops or is finished cutting the grass on that side of the house so he pushes it to almost the back of the outside of the fence now they don't have a fence, so her kids ran out and were right there while my husband was cutting the grass I'm guessing she was all so back there as well to try and say hello to my husband from the back of the house because she knew I was in the front of the house
And he said he didn't actually see her he was just focused on cutting the grass but I'm sure she was back there since her children were running around back and forth back there as well.
So that was pretty long but that's what has been happening since she moved in here, I am not sure how to go about anything her children seem very kind her husband is very nice and not red flaggy at all she on the other hand has the need to go up to every single neighbor and talk up people but specifically because I live next door to her it's like a game to her because she finds every moment to speak to my husband I haven't even mentioned the other times that he was out there just like cleaning out the car and she just hopped out it would just stand there and try and get his attention and then he would not give her any attention I wouldn't even look her way, it's like she can hear when we're out there or here when he's out there doing something and she can find a way to speak to him and it's really off putting and I'm not really sure what to do I've been closing all of my curtains and blinds because when she first got here she was actually looking and standing straight across looking straight. Into my house for a lot of good 5 minutes while I was vacuuming and so I close all my stuff up.
I would love some recommendations on how to peacefully handle this situation I am not sure what is going on mentally in this woman's head or why she needs to Garner this attention and I just want to be kind about it because I actually tried again and wished her a happy mother's day but then this incident happened after that so I am just done with the situation I feel like, I don't have any desire to try and be friends with her or even just be neighborly.
I would love some feedback or advice on how to peacefully go about this, the only time we are really out there is to cut the grass and do yard work which is pretty rare so I guess we don't have to really see them.
All feedback is welcome, I am close to pushing 40 so I really don't have the mental energy to deal with this kind of situation anymore I'm feeling like it's beneath me and very childish to actually do any kind of intentional situation as far as ignoring and things like that or being unkind I don't want to get roped into drama and things like that and I just wish that woman healing to be honest.
But I would love some feedback on this scenario thank you.
submitted by shesonearth to neighborsfromhell [link] [comments]
But that's not the issue the issue is how we ended up on meeting and what's been going on ever since
Usually my family we go ahead and we take my children myself and my husband to go knock or ring the doorbell and introduce ourselves and strike up friendly conversation etc, this is how we see it appropriate or just meeting everybody so we're not going back and forth then doing that whole thing we just want to get it out the way and have everybody meet everybody
So I'm working from home in my home and my husband is outside playing basketball with my children and the neighbors who are kind of in your face are home but the husband and the wife are home and the children the woman next door sends her children inside and then walks over to my husband and just loudly just waves him over and she's like always your wife home and he's like she's busy, and she just like oh I wanted to meet all y'all and all this other stuff and she just said that her children have been trying to meet my children and it was kind of odd because she sent them in before she came over to say hello to my husband and didn't bring her children to say hello to my children who are out there playing basketball with my husband also she didn't make it a point to go inside and get her husband who was also in the home to come outside so they can all collectively say hello which was kind of off-putting.
But nothing else was thought of it so it had been a while since any interaction, me and my children ended up bumping into her husband on our way to the mailbox and we had a conversation and said hello and a few things and my children met his children they started to play because they actually wanted to meet them just like she said and what not so we let them play for a little bit we only just talked for a moment and then I left went back home and then shortly later in the day the whole family comes and shows up to our home I guess he told her that we had a conversation and the children played so I guess she then wanted to come and meet me.
So they show up to the door they come at dinner time and we're just kind of in a rush and so we all say hello and this is when the red flag weird stuff starts to happen is after her husband is standing in front of her she's lightly kind of behind him so he can't really see what she's doing but she's just like back and forth staring down my husband like a piece of meat, giggling and trying to catch his gays repeatedly, and then looking back and forth at her husband trying to see if he's looking or not she didn't look at me one time while she was standing on my porch and then I made a comment and said that I had met one of her relatives when I was going on a bike ride and she said that she likes my hair and my outfit and she said oh okay and then she continued to glance back and forth at my husband and her husband and she had no interest in me and having any kind of conversation or real meeting of hello or anything.
So after that it left a bitter taste in my mouth because people like that they tend to have it all but they need more and they need like attention from the outside even though they have everything right in front of them they can't really see it. but anyway she struck me as this attention seeker and it turns out she actually is.
so her whole family came to the door, we were eating dinner, and they wanted to know if our children could come out and play and I said we just sat down to eat and you can tell that she was bothered by that and bothered by the fact that I answered the door because before she came up she was primping herself on the doorbell camera,
So I let her know that we would be coming out later after we're done so we go over and then I have her children come out and play with my children for a little bit.
We end up having a conversation while they were playing and at first she did seem kind of genuine but then she started to get over the top and just started saying I was so funny and she kept hitting me and trying to be buddy buddy and over and over again putting her hands on me laughing and it was very off putting and very fake feeling like she was trying to get bloody buddy with me somehow very quickly.
She referred to my husband as Daddy and it was kind of off-putting the way she had said it and then because I didn't like the way she said, what about daaaadyy is what she said when she asked about my husbands involvement in our day today which was kind of weird.
So I went ahead and when we were talking I said it back to her yeah your children probably need daddy too and I said exactly how she did and hopefully she got the head but nope and also she was asking me for advice about staying home and needing to be out just needing to be doing something because her husband was taken care of her too much and working but he wasn't even working a lot he work from home and in the office but he said she didn't have to and that he takes care of her but she doesn't want him to she wants to just be out there in the streets essentially doing something and being seen.
Her words not mine.
And she said she can't help it because she had her children she doesn't want to be just cooped up in the house everyday or something like that.
And so that was kind of off-putting and then I mentioned focusing on your family like being present with them and focusing solely on them reaps really good benefits because you create a closer Bond and you don't need outside anything to feel complete essentially what you have is inside of you and I just kind of reference that when she kept saying that she needs to just be on the go when she can't sit still and she said her husband always says that he's got her and that their mom needs them and things like that and I said I agree because I know how I am with my children and I have my children all the time and my family works really great because of the way our dynamic works and I tried to like give some knowledge and information to her but she kind of wasn't hearing it and didn't seem interested really in that dynamic.
So after that day she text me and wants me to go to the park with him but I'm in the shower and I never see her text message till I'm done and I have like this whole routine so it takes about an hour or so until she's just like in the park and I finally text her back the park is up the street and I text her back and she's just like kind of upset that I didn't show up and that's understandable but I did let her know like hey I was busy and I didn't see your text message can we try and do something else and so I let her know that we can have the boys hang out and we hang out tomorrow and then the next day me and my kids went for a walk and she was also on a walk with her child, we briefly passed each other cuz I'm coming out of my house and she's entering up the sidewalk to the driveway to her house she sees me and I just kind of stand there waiting so I can wave her and she just like looks through me and continues to walk
So I didn't think anything of I just kind of laughed to myself because it was kind of a petty cuz she clearly saw me but whatever but I texted her when I got back from the walk and said hey I saw you on our walk a few minutes ago I don't know if you saw me, but I just wanted to let you know that the boys are available at this x amount of time, she text me back later lets me know the time works out so the boys and I come out there later on that day at that time then this was before our dinner time so I tried to accompany and accommodate, my children are out there playing basketball and this woman literally at the exact time at her children are supposed to be out there text me and said one of her children were in trouble and can't come out there we'll catch you all next time
And I said thanks for the courtesy etc and so the next time we saw her was when my husband was cutting the grass I was inside doing some housework he was outside cutting the grass with my children running back and forth doing everything like they usually do and so during that time she makes her way outside and she's got this really short pink dress on and it's like really cold outside and it was just like really alarming to me and she's just like out there walking around sweeping her front porch and then like while my husband is cutting the side that's closest to their house she's like back to back with him and she just makes it a point to be like hey how you doing and just other stuff even though earlier in the day when we got home we both wave to them from the car and said hey and so it was kind of odd that she made another appearance to try and speak to my husband, he brought this to my attention and he said that he was very brief about it because he knows how things are between me and her and how we revives were between us and so he just briefly said Hi and then turn back around and kept cutting the grass and so I guess that wasn't enough attention for her
So after he was done cutting the grass I never took myself outside even though he said that she was out there and was trying to strike up a conversation, after that and he started to do the wrap up , but the hose away put the gutters back on and all that stuff blow the grass away.
And so basically I get a notification on my phone from the doorbell camera and the garage camera went off as well and I'm like okay someone has been spotted that's what it says and I look and I see this person standing there in a pink dress mini dress she's right there in front of my house sweeping the grass out of my driveway and sweep in the grass almost basically to the other side of the neighbor's house she's directly in front of my house sweeping my grass up going back and forth essentially waiting for my husband to come out there and I don't know what have an interaction talk I don't know look at me I'm cleaning up your grass I have no idea
And so I let my husband know like I see this happening right now on the camera and then he's just like I'm about to go cook dinner he goes to go cook dinner and I let him know I'm going to handle the cleanup and then I go out there with the broom and I walk out there I don't say anything to her and I just started sweeping and then she looks shocked to see me cuz I don't even think she knew I was home because the car wasn't in the driveway and then she just walks past and she's just wiping her nose and has her head down and she just walks back up to her driveway, her husband was cutting the grass on the other side of the house by the way her children were running around but she was in front of my house and in my driveway back and forth sweeping my grass instead of over there helping her husband with his yard work she was in my driveway and the other side of my yard sweeping the grass
And then she just after she gets back to her side of the house she's just like hey how you doing? And I say good and then I keep sweeping and then like she got this like grin on her face and she's just like see that I'm like visibly like annoyed with her and so she just keeps it moving, and so after that I went to the house and got the leaf blower and just started blowing the grass out so I can get back in the house cuz I was just like I was just really irritable, I'm blowing the grass and then I hear her come up right behind me and say hey hey where did you get that leaf blower at and I turned around and I said I don't know it's old and then I continue to blow the grass away and I guess she took the hat because I was pretty Stern with it and I think she came back to say something to me to see if I was in a good mood or to see if I was still like angry essentially because she got caught doing what she was doing
I didn't sugar coat when I spoke to her and I'm thinking okay she got the hint. And then a few days later she tried to make a playdate and then I said my children are unavailable at that time then, we were going to a nearby Creek and taking my children they wanted to go and we ate before we left we were going to leave around like 4:30 and so we didn't leave at 4:30 we ate and then we were going to leave now as we are eating I get a notification on the doorbell camera and the garage camera yet again and it says person has been spotted I checked the camera and she's out there walking back and forth back and forth back and forth with her children trying to see if we're going to come out trying to see if she can wave at us in miraculous and any kind of way I don't know but she's in front of our house her house on the complete other side and she's just back and forth walking with them
And we ended up leaving a close to 5:00 p.m. so by that time she already went in the house
And after that I just was done with any kind of interactions with her because she is very off putting and she gives off this vibe and energy of I am being fake. And I have an ulterior motive and I need to Garner attention from Men even though I have one.
Even the guy next to us was outside cleaning his car and then her husband was in the house yet again and after he went inside I guess he was like busy , So she took it upon herself to scream across the yard and say ooh that looks good. Referring to his car and so he comes over and then starts talking to her across from our yard and and her yard and she starts complimenting his car ridiculously and was just asking a bunch of stuff about his car and his pain and and what he does and how does he get it to look like that and just a bunch of stuff and what crossed my mind was the whole married women complimenting another man's car perfusively was kind of off-putting.
And so they carried conversation for a while and then to the point that he ended up getting his phone and trying to show her something about his paint job and then he actually paused before he actually had her come over and like look at the phone and she goes oh you can send it to me and I don't know if they have each other's numbers or whatever but I heard her say that and then he actually paused and said I sent it to your husband actually and then she was just like oh okay and then she stopped the conversation and went in the house
Just yesterday because we haven't had a moment to cut the grass in a while my husband cut the grass after he got off of work so me and the children were outside and we were all doing yard work like we usually do I was trimming and the boys were trimming and picking things up in the yard and she pulls up. Usually she picks up her kids and then goes in the home closes the garage and we don't see her the rest of the day, but since we are all out here and my husband's got in the grass she made it a point to pull up leave the garage open open trunk and just bring her kids out and have them running around in the driveway which I knew was going to happen, because whenever my husband's out there she makes it a point to be out there but when I hop out she flies inside of her house
So I'm out there packing up my grass and I was done because my mom had called and so I'm on the phone with her and my husband is starting to cut the side of the grass closest to her house and so, I say on the phone and I'm just like talking on the phone while looking into her driveway and garage knowing that she's going to pop out at any second to try and get some kind of attention from my husband because she's been doing that, she actually came out when I was right there just waiting and then she briefly raised her hand and waved while my husband didn't see her so he's over pushing the mower back and forth back and forth and conveniently she's in the garage going from one side of the car to the next side of the car from one side of the car to the next side of the car she did this about eight times
And he never looked her way didn't give her any kind of attention so eventually she went ahead and close the garage cuz I guess she saw me actually noticing what she was doing so she closed the garage and went house so my husband stops or is finished cutting the grass on that side of the house so he pushes it to almost the back of the outside of the fence now they don't have a fence, so her kids ran out and were right there while my husband was cutting the grass I'm guessing she was all so back there as well to try and say hello to my husband from the back of the house because she knew I was in the front of the house
And he said he didn't actually see her he was just focused on cutting the grass but I'm sure she was back there since her children were running around back and forth back there as well.
So that was pretty long but that's what has been happening since she moved in here, I am not sure how to go about anything her children seem very kind her husband is very nice and not red flaggy at all she on the other hand has the need to go up to every single neighbor and talk up people but specifically because I live next door to her it's like a game to her because she finds every moment to speak to my husband I haven't even mentioned the other times that he was out there just like cleaning out the car and she just hopped out it would just stand there and try and get his attention and then he would not give her any attention I wouldn't even look her way, it's like she can hear when we're out there or here when he's out there doing something and she can find a way to speak to him and it's really off putting and I'm not really sure what to do I've been closing all of my curtains and blinds because when she first got here she was actually looking and standing straight across looking straight. Into my house for a lot of good 5 minutes while I was vacuuming and so I close all my stuff up.
I would love some recommendations on how to peacefully handle this situation I am not sure what is going on mentally in this woman's head or why she needs to Garner this attention and I just want to be kind about it because I actually tried again and wished her a happy mother's day but then this incident happened after that so I am just done with the situation I feel like, I don't have any desire to try and be friends with her or even just be neighborly.
I would love some feedback or advice on how to peacefully go about this, the only time we are really out there is to cut the grass and do yard work which is pretty rare so I guess we don't have to really see them.
All feedback is welcome, I am close to pushing 40 so I really don't have the mental energy to deal with this kind of situation anymore I'm feeling like it's beneath me and very childish to actually do any kind of intentional situation as far as ignoring and things like that or being unkind I don't want to get roped into drama and things like that and I just wish that woman healing to be honest.
But I would love some feedback on this scenario thank you.
2024.05.16 16:12 CIAHerpes I remember the night I died and saw the Bardo.
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.
submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]
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.
2024.05.16 15:28 Downtown_Statement87 I tried to make a new mom friend in Oconee County. This is what happened.
 | Here's a very long and convoluted story about what happened when I moved out of Athens and tried to make friends in a new county. It's really long. submitted by Downtown_Statement87 to Athens [link] [comments] * When you're a mom, it seems like you'd have a lot in common with other moms. You're both exhausted. You both can change a diaper while eating a hamburger while making a doctor's appointment while driving a car. She has spit-up on her shoulder? Yeah, well you have Goldfish in your hair. But it's surprisingly hard to make mom friends. Go to any park or playground, and you'll see lots of Lone Moms dotting the landscape, swiping at their smartphones while their children play. I don't know why this is, but it's always kind of bothered me. Raising children can be a terribly isolating endeavor. You are busy, but also bored, since most of the tasks required of you are mundane, repetitive ones like loading the dishwasher, cooking food, and extinguishing the dog. You are surrounded by people all day, but these people are mostly pre-verbal, so you end up feeling lonely a lot of the time. I would think that moms would flock to each other like toddlers flock to the one thing in the house their parents forgot to baby-proof. But no. It turns out that most moms don't mix. When I lived in Athens, GA, it wasn't so hard. I'd figured it out. I'd spy a mom fiddling with her Maya baby wrap next to the sensory play area, sidle up to her, and hit her with my opening conversational gambit: "What's your position on ancient grains?" And thus would begin a heartfelt conversation about Quinoa and Amaranth and what cereals they prefer. But I didn't really care what we were talking about. I just cared that we were talking. So I was anxious when I moved out of Athens to the tiny town of High Shoals. It's just over the border from Oconee County, and most moms in Oconee County don't talk about ancient grains. They talk about things I don't have any experience with and thus can't comment on, like who is their favorite area aesthetician. (The last time I had anything resembling a facial was when I fell asleep in the middle of feeding the dogs and woke up with one of them licking my face). Oconee moms talk about where they're spending their family's spring break ("not Destin"), and how Grayson was just robbed at the regional gymnastics finals. Oconee County is very affluent, and very conservative. You still can't get a beer there on Sundays, but at least the Zaxby's drive-through stays open til 10 pm. Nonetheless, I resolved to try to make new mom friends. I practiced smiling in the mirror and repeating "What's your home church?" (my new conversation starter) until there was only a hint of crazy-eye brought on by sleep deprivation. I worked on not making sweeping generalizations about people based on what county they live in. I reminded myself to brush my teeth and my hair every morning, instead of on alternating days like I usually do. Finally, shortly after Christmas, I was ready to go. Now, at the same time all of this introspection about friend-making was going on, my oldest girl asked me for a puppy. I told her no and she went away. Then two days later she came back with a compromise: "How about a rat?" Probably most folks consider "provide a rat-free environment for your children to live in" to be up there with other parenting dictates like "don't feed your baby Jagermeister." These are rules that are so obvious that they don't even bear mentioning. But when Sadie asked for a rat, I thought back to what happened when my teenaged self and friends watched the punk-rock adolescent classic "Suburbia." Inspired by a character who had a tame rat as a pet, several of my friends rushed out and secured rats for themselves. They would carry them around in the pockets of their leather jackets when they went to the mall to ask an adult to buy clove cigarettes for them. These rats, I remembered, were well-mannered, good-natured varmints. A quick look on the web confirmed my memories. Rats, the internet assured me, are smart, and social. They are friendly, and loyal, and can be trained to learn their names and do tricks. If you aren't squicked out by the naked, scaly tail, the bulging genitalia, the beady eyes and twitching whiskers, and the general association of rats with things like plague and death, a rat might be just the thing for you. My husband was not enthusiastic about this plan, mainly because one of his morning rituals is going out to check the trap in our chicken coop to see what predator was snared overnight. Sometimes he'll come in in the morning with a possum in the trap, or even a black snake. But usually, it's a rat. "Robin," he said, trying to sound reasonable, "Please don't go out and voluntarily purchase more vermin. We have plenty of rats right here." He pointed at the hissing, red-eyed rodent trying to gnaw its way out of the cage he'd just carried in from the coop. "Yeah, but those rats are different," I said, hoping he wouldn't ask me why. "Why?" he said. "It's exactly the same thing. It's a rat." "Well..." I said, trying to stall. "Not really. See, this is an outdoor rat. We're getting an indoor one. Plus, these rats are free. The rat I'm going to get costs $18." My husband loves me, and he loves Sadie. But mainly, he's tired. And so eventually Sadie got her rat. Honey lived happily in Sadie's room in his 3-tiered Rat Palace, and every day I would take time out from soothing the infant and wrestling with the 3-year-old to play with the rat, something the pet store warned I had to do if I wanted to socialize him."Time to coddle the rat," I'd announce to the children, disappearing up the stairs to Sadie's room. I'd take Honey out of his cage and scratch his neck and ears. I'd hold him in my palm and encourage him to climb up my arm to my shoulder. I'd turn on Sadie's radio and the two of us would listen to Katy Perry together. Eventually, as Honey grew, I started taking him downstairs on brief field trips. I'd put him in the sleeve of my sweater, down by my wrist. If I kept my arm bent he would rest there contentedly, and eventually I would become embroiled in making baby food or putting away toys and would completely forget that I had a rather large rat in my sleeve. One afternoon in January, Sadie suggested that we visit a park in Oconee County. We got ourselves ready and, as we were heading out the door, Sadie stopped and said, "Hey, why don't we bring Honey?" I agreed and so Sadie cleaned out one of her purses and stuffed Honey inside. When we got to the park, I decided it would not be safe for Sadie to run around on the playground with a bag full of rat (I do have some standards), so I offered to put Honey in my sleeve. She handed over the rat, which settled in the sleeve of my v-neck sweater, and ran off to play. At first, we were alone on the playground. But after a while a mini-van pulled into the parking lot and a mom and her daughter climbed out. The daughter was the same age as Sadie, and they began enthusiastically playing together as soon as the girl hit the playground. I stood on the other side of the jungle gym from the other mom, wishing I had some of my daughter's friend-making mojo. Then I remembered my resolution. "This could be it," I realized, watching the other mom through the slats in the climbing structure. "This could be my new mom friend." I remembered that if I wanted to enlarge my social circle and meet people in this new town, I'd have to invest some energy and take some risks. I remembered what I had told myself about being friendly and open and willing to meet someone where they are. I remembered all of those things. Sadly, I forgot that I had a rat in my sleeve. I circled around the jungle gym closer to the other mom, trying to make it look like I was moving just to get a better view of my kid. When I was close enough to her to not have to yell, I gave her a big, friendly smile, and said "Our kids seem to enjoy playing together." "They sure do!" said the other mom, brightly. She smiled, too, and the conversation with my first Oconee County mom was launched. "How old is she? Oh, mine too! What school does she go to? Does she like it? Yes, we do live close by. We just moved. You grew up here? Seems like a nice place." Outside, I was engaging in normal-sounding small talk. But inside, I was rejoicing. "I'm doing it!" I thought. "I'm having a normal conversation with another adult! I'm not crying, or babbling, or forgetting where in the sentence I am! I'm just a few more comments away from suggesting our kids meet up at the library some time, and when I do that, she'll say sure, and she'll have to come to the library, too, since her kid is only six and can't drive, and then we'll see each other again and then Bam! Mom friends! Yahoo!" I decided to close the deal. I said, as casually as possible, "It's great that our kids are having so much fun together. Do you guys ever do any of the afternoon art things at the library?" The other mom smiled and said, "Yes, we...do. We do go there sometimes." "Great!" I said. But things were not great. Something had happened in between my question about the library and her response. I didn't know what it was, exactly, but I could sense it. The other mom was still smiling, still making eye-contact with me. But something had changed. I replayed the conversation in my head. The slight pause in her answer to my question about the library. "Yes, we...do." Her eyes had flicked away from my face and down to my chest for a split second -- just a momentary glance -- before meeting mine again. I'd seen her do it but had thought nothing of it, because she'd looked back at me and finished answering. And she was still looking at me, her face absolutely calm and straight and normal. Nothing bad was happening. She was still standing there, probably waiting for me to suggest a meeting. So what was the problem? As surreptitiously as possible (which was not at all, since she was standing 2 feet away from me, watching my face) I dropped my own eyes down to my chest. And then I understood. Honey, the rat who was so at home in my sweater sleeve that I often forgot he was there, had crawled up my sleeve and around to the front, and was now poking his head out of the point in the "v" of my v-neck sweater. Looking at it from my perspective, I'm just a mom who is trying to make a new friend and who also happens to have a rat crawling around in her sweater. What's the big deal? But from her perspective? I can hear her standing in her kitchen, staring into a big glass of red wine and telling it to her husband. "A woman tried to talk to me at the park today, but there was a rat in her sweater, so..." I looked up from the trembling pink nose and sharp eyes of the rodent poking out of my cleavage and into the face of the woman I was never, ever going to be friends with. I had absolutely no idea what etiquette was called for in this situation. Should I acknowledge what was happening with a breezy "oh, ha, don't worry, he's tame"? Or should I feign surprise, and act as shocked as she? "Oh my gosh," I could shriek, batting at my sweater, "How did that get in there?" Was it worse to be the kind of person who puts vermin in her sweater on purpose? Or the kind who gets fully dressed without realizing there's a rat loose in her clothing? I couldn't decide. Because this is the South -- the place where one's darkest character failings are met with a sweet "bless your heart!" -- the other mom didn't do what some other moms might have done (e.g., pepper spray me while calling Child Protective Services). Instead, she decided to do the polite thing, and pretend that our casual conversation hadn't just been interrupted by the appearance of a clothing rodent. She stood there, her serene expression belying the tsunami of WTF? probably roiling in her head, and exchanged a few more banal pleasantries with me. Taking my cue from her, I also tried to ignore the rat, who had crawled down to the waist of my sweater and now nestled there like a distended appendix. "Well," I said finally, "I guess we'd better get on home." All the other things I wanted to say -- "Maybe we'll see each other again!" "It was great talking to you!" -- felt like chalk in my mouth as I walked with my daughter to the mini-van. "That girl was really nice!" said Sadie, climbing in her booster seat. "Maybe we could meet her here again." "Maybe so," I said, reaching under my sweater and extracting Honey. He thrashed and twisted as I inserted him into the purse Sadie had brought along. "We could play with Honey, maybe," Sadie said as I started the van. "Do you think she likes rats too?" "I don't know, Bean," I sighed. Should I tell her that, no, she probably doesn't like rats very much at all. Should I tell her that if she wants to be accepted in her new town, she needs to lose the rat and turn her face to more normal little-girl pursuits, like weaving bracelets out those damn rubber band circles? Should I tell her that the weird things she loves are the very same things that will make her lonely? The way her mom sometimes is? "I don't know," I said again. "But I'll tell you what. If you find a person who likes both you and your rat, you snag 'em, OK? That's when you know you've found a friend." I pulled the car out of the lot and drove myself, my daughter, and our pet rat back home. |
2024.05.16 14:04 SportsGAGA Top 10 Soccer Drills for Beginners
 | https://preview.redd.it/p1n9ztts3s0d1.jpg?width=976&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3aa99ec13e149dfdc9433fb6269818918d418823 submitted by SportsGAGA to Sportsduniya [link] [comments] Soccer, known as football in many parts of the world, holds a special place in the hearts of millions. For newcomers stepping onto the pitch, grasping the basics is paramount. To support the growth of budding soccer talents, we offer the top 10 soccer drills tailored for beginners.
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2024.05.16 14:00 NikolaJokic2023 Victor Wembanyama Never Deserved DPOY This Season
In the last couple months of the season, there began to be a massive push for Victor Wembanyama to win the Defensive Player of the Year. He was leading the league in blocks (including 4 per game post-All-Star), he had the largest net rating shift for when he was on the floor and off of it, he led the league in steals, and was arguably the best defender in the NBA. All of that is true. But it can also be true that he did not deserve to be DPOY.
For one thing, I think people were underrating how good on defense Gobert was this season. The gap between Gobert and Wemby was far from massive. For estimated defensive +/-, Wemby was in the 99th percentile but Gobert was not far behind in the 96th percentile. Some advanced stats, like LEBRON and Defensive Win Shares, put Gobert ahead.
But I think some of the most telling stats is that Gobert contested 11 shots a game to Wemby's 9, Gobert held opponents to a lower FG% at the rim (below 50% and Wemby's opponents shot above 50%), and Gobert was more of a deterrent around the basket with opponents shooting 6% less at the rim when he was on the floor (which was first in the entire NBA).
So, Gobert was nearly just as good as Wemby this season as a defender but he was far more successful. The reason why I don't think Wemby deserved it is simply this: winning matters. People began to argue "It's an individual award!" and it is but the award has always factored in winning. To act like it doesn't would be dishonest. Now, you can argue it shouldn't, but that's a different discussion. You can't argue that this is the metric and that Wemby came up short. Wemby was the 14th seed, and the 5th worst team in all of basketball. And at the end of the day, wins and losses are more important than any number of counting stats you can achieve. Basketball, like all sports, is about winning. To try and separate it from winning is disingenuous and literally denies the central aspect of sport. You play to win. Is it Wemby's fault that the Spurs were bad? No. But the fact of the matter is that they are.
I believe Robert deserved DPOY over Wemby because he was 85% as good on defense, and just about 99% more successful this season.
submitted by NikolaJokic2023 to NBATalk [link] [comments]
For one thing, I think people were underrating how good on defense Gobert was this season. The gap between Gobert and Wemby was far from massive. For estimated defensive +/-, Wemby was in the 99th percentile but Gobert was not far behind in the 96th percentile. Some advanced stats, like LEBRON and Defensive Win Shares, put Gobert ahead.
But I think some of the most telling stats is that Gobert contested 11 shots a game to Wemby's 9, Gobert held opponents to a lower FG% at the rim (below 50% and Wemby's opponents shot above 50%), and Gobert was more of a deterrent around the basket with opponents shooting 6% less at the rim when he was on the floor (which was first in the entire NBA).
So, Gobert was nearly just as good as Wemby this season as a defender but he was far more successful. The reason why I don't think Wemby deserved it is simply this: winning matters. People began to argue "It's an individual award!" and it is but the award has always factored in winning. To act like it doesn't would be dishonest. Now, you can argue it shouldn't, but that's a different discussion. You can't argue that this is the metric and that Wemby came up short. Wemby was the 14th seed, and the 5th worst team in all of basketball. And at the end of the day, wins and losses are more important than any number of counting stats you can achieve. Basketball, like all sports, is about winning. To try and separate it from winning is disingenuous and literally denies the central aspect of sport. You play to win. Is it Wemby's fault that the Spurs were bad? No. But the fact of the matter is that they are.
I believe Robert deserved DPOY over Wemby because he was 85% as good on defense, and just about 99% more successful this season.
2024.05.16 13:26 __DoJo__ Detroit Pistons Offseason Cavs/Celtics Small Trade (Build the Foundation)
We Need A Pinned Post Lottery Offseason Thread
Detroit Pistons 2024-25 Depth Chart
PG - C. Cunningham, M. Monte, M. Sasser
SG - G. Trent Jr, J. Ivey, D. Knecht
SF - A. Thompson, C. Levert, H. Ingram
PF - S. Fonteccio, I. Stewart, C. Osman
C - I. Hartenstein, J. Duren, M. Muscala
Notable Issues from last season
Three Point Shooting (Spacing) / Interior Defense Specifically (Shot Blocking) / Turnovers / Generating Steals
Notable Positives
Rebounding / Rim Pressure (Slashing) / Mid-Range Scoring
Out
James Wiseman - Had maybe one good stretch where he was affective over five games, but struggled the majority of the season. Decent shot blocker and had a good enough motor, but still lacks a ton of court feel and often doesnt know where to be. He has a team option on his rookie contract and the team should not be looking at bringing him back under any circumstances.
Troy Brown - Doesn't do much to impact the game on either end and was pretty much invisible during his stint in the rotation. His contact ends this season and they should look to upgrade.
Malachi Flynn - Didn't show the ability to get his teammates open consistently and was particularity bad as a lead guard in the Pick & Roll. Despite the 50 point game, he struggled at pretty much every other moment while he was in the rotation. If they do think about bringing him back, it should be on the minimum for one year and they should still look at getting a true back up point guard to help ease the turnover issue the team has.
Evan Fournier - Has a team option contact worth 19 million that should be declined. Not particularly special or consistent in any one area, but had his occasional moments as a shooter. If he is brought back it should be on a drastically reduced contract, otherwise they should allow him to walk.
Chimezie Metu - Had his moments, but I question what his actual position is. Not big enough to play C and not consistent enough of a shooter or quick enough laterally on defense to play on the wings. Wouldn't be mad if they brought him back, but I feel like they should attempt to find his replacement.
Taj Gibson - Past his prime, didn't really play a ton. I don't have much else to say about him.
Quentin Grimes - One of our only decent trade assets outside of our young core and he could get us at least a decent vet role player if combined with some future 2nd rounders. Wouldn't be mad at all if he's on the roster next season, despite the fact that he struggled during his short stint with us. Could fit very well next to Cade, Ausar, and Ivey and provide versatility to our bench.
Jared Rhoden - Two-way guy didn't play alot, but wasn't affective when he was on the floor.
Buddy Boehim - Two-way guy, who I struggle to see ever making the jump to the league. Little athletism and a target on defense.
Tosan Evbuomwan - Two-way guy with good effort and motor, but he's not particularly affective at the moment. Wouldn't be mad at them giving him one more year on a two way contract.
Monty Williams - Consistently went away from lineups and plays that were affective in favor of playing his guys (Killian, Livers, Flynn). Didn't get handed the greatest hand obviously, but would frequently disrupt any flow our guys had in favor of 5 man substitutions, that would see 15 point leads gone in the span of a few minutes, and our good lineup faced with a near 10+ point deficit once subbed back in. Also didn't adjust his game plan nearly enough.
Troy Weaver - NO WORDS NEED TO BE SPOKEN.
In
Potential Coaches
Chris Quinn
Jarron Collins
Kenny Atkinson
James Borrego
Terry Stotts
Trade Pistons Get: Caris Levert/ Pick 30
Cavs Get: Quentin Grimes/ Chimezie Metu/53rd Pick/
Celtics Get: 2027 2nd Round Pick/2030 2nd Round Pick
Free Agents (That I Would Sign)
Isaiah Hartenstein - Really good defender who knows when to negate the roller and when to step up to cut off the ball handler, which is great for a young team who has its lapses in the pick & roll. Would provide a great starting option while Duren continues to develop off of the bench. Also a pretty good finisher and connective playmaker for his size. Could front load his contact and provide a significant pay raise to lure him to the team. I like him just a little more than Nic Claxton (who I believe will be resigned by the nets) because of his strength, but would be fine with either. Also would be willing to pay him more than stated seeing as New York can't offer anywhere near as much money as we can.
Gary Trent Jr - Prolific Floor Spacer. Not the greatest defender or playmaker, but shouldn't be as big of an issue next to Cade and Ausar. We will have to overpay for him though, seeing as Toronto has the money to keep him.
Or
Kentavious Caldwell-Pope - AN ACTUAL THREE & D guard next to Cade which is what this team desperately needs until Ivey is ready to play that role consistently if he ever is. Not a lockdown defender, but has a very good defensive iq and knows where to be in order to be a good team defender next to Ausar. Would obviously be a good floor spacer. Could also front load his contract to attract him to the team seeing as he's in the same situation with Denver as Hartenstein is with New York.
Monte Morris - Should not have been traded in the first place. Good playmaking option of the bench who also had one of the better AST/TO ratios in the league. Would help to cut down on TO's for a team that often lost games soley because of them.
Simeone Fonteccio (Resign) - Played very well next to the young core and was very affective from the moment he got to the team. Was practically a way better defending / slightly worse finishing Bojan. Cade played his best basketball next to him.
Mike Muscala - Good floor spacing big.
Cedi Osman - Decent wing depth vet
Other Options Nic Claxton (C) Malik Beasley (SG) De'Anthony Melton (SG) Malik Monk (SG) Royce O'Neale (SF) Bruce Brown (SG) Gary Trent (SG) Markelle Fultz (PG) Isaac Okoro (SG) Derrick Jones Jr (SF) Caleb Martin (SF) Jonas Valanciunas (C) Taurean Prince (PF) Kyle Andersen (PF) Cam Payne (PG) Jordan McLaughlin (PG) Isaiah Joe (SG) Cedi Osman (SF) Lonnie Walker (SG) Patty Mills (PG) Jalen Smith (PF) Daniel Theis (C) Thomas Bryant (C) Lamar Stevens (SF) Delon Wright (PG) Matt Ryan (SF)
Draft
Pick 5 - Dalton Knecht (Good Floor Spacer, who can also finish at the rim. Won't be asked to create a ton for himself. Not worried about his defense when played next to Ausar.) We could also trade back in the draft to get him while picking up an extra asset.
or
Matas Buzelis (Could be very affective if his high school shooting numbers translate to the league and he's able to get stronger. Biggest ? In the draft, but worth the risk.)
Pick 30 - Harrison Ingram (Good-not-great defender who may struggle to defend speedier guards, but has very good hands and can help to generate more steals while also being a good team defender. He can also space the floor consistently and could add more wing depth and length at the SF position.
Let me know what you think.
submitted by __DoJo__ to DetroitPistons [link] [comments]
Detroit Pistons 2024-25 Depth Chart
PG - C. Cunningham, M. Monte, M. Sasser
SG - G. Trent Jr, J. Ivey, D. Knecht
SF - A. Thompson, C. Levert, H. Ingram
PF - S. Fonteccio, I. Stewart, C. Osman
C - I. Hartenstein, J. Duren, M. Muscala
Three Point Shooting (Spacing) / Interior Defense Specifically (Shot Blocking) / Turnovers / Generating Steals
Notable Positives
Rebounding / Rim Pressure (Slashing) / Mid-Range Scoring
James Wiseman - Had maybe one good stretch where he was affective over five games, but struggled the majority of the season. Decent shot blocker and had a good enough motor, but still lacks a ton of court feel and often doesnt know where to be. He has a team option on his rookie contract and the team should not be looking at bringing him back under any circumstances.
Troy Brown - Doesn't do much to impact the game on either end and was pretty much invisible during his stint in the rotation. His contact ends this season and they should look to upgrade.
Malachi Flynn - Didn't show the ability to get his teammates open consistently and was particularity bad as a lead guard in the Pick & Roll. Despite the 50 point game, he struggled at pretty much every other moment while he was in the rotation. If they do think about bringing him back, it should be on the minimum for one year and they should still look at getting a true back up point guard to help ease the turnover issue the team has.
Evan Fournier - Has a team option contact worth 19 million that should be declined. Not particularly special or consistent in any one area, but had his occasional moments as a shooter. If he is brought back it should be on a drastically reduced contract, otherwise they should allow him to walk.
Chimezie Metu - Had his moments, but I question what his actual position is. Not big enough to play C and not consistent enough of a shooter or quick enough laterally on defense to play on the wings. Wouldn't be mad if they brought him back, but I feel like they should attempt to find his replacement.
Taj Gibson - Past his prime, didn't really play a ton. I don't have much else to say about him.
Quentin Grimes - One of our only decent trade assets outside of our young core and he could get us at least a decent vet role player if combined with some future 2nd rounders. Wouldn't be mad at all if he's on the roster next season, despite the fact that he struggled during his short stint with us. Could fit very well next to Cade, Ausar, and Ivey and provide versatility to our bench.
Jared Rhoden - Two-way guy didn't play alot, but wasn't affective when he was on the floor.
Buddy Boehim - Two-way guy, who I struggle to see ever making the jump to the league. Little athletism and a target on defense.
Tosan Evbuomwan - Two-way guy with good effort and motor, but he's not particularly affective at the moment. Wouldn't be mad at them giving him one more year on a two way contract.
Monty Williams - Consistently went away from lineups and plays that were affective in favor of playing his guys (Killian, Livers, Flynn). Didn't get handed the greatest hand obviously, but would frequently disrupt any flow our guys had in favor of 5 man substitutions, that would see 15 point leads gone in the span of a few minutes, and our good lineup faced with a near 10+ point deficit once subbed back in. Also didn't adjust his game plan nearly enough.
Troy Weaver - NO WORDS NEED TO BE SPOKEN.
Potential Coaches
Chris Quinn
Jarron Collins
Kenny Atkinson
James Borrego
Terry Stotts
Cavs Get: Quentin Grimes/ Chimezie Metu/53rd Pick/
Celtics Get: 2027 2nd Round Pick/2030 2nd Round Pick
Isaiah Hartenstein - Really good defender who knows when to negate the roller and when to step up to cut off the ball handler, which is great for a young team who has its lapses in the pick & roll. Would provide a great starting option while Duren continues to develop off of the bench. Also a pretty good finisher and connective playmaker for his size. Could front load his contact and provide a significant pay raise to lure him to the team. I like him just a little more than Nic Claxton (who I believe will be resigned by the nets) because of his strength, but would be fine with either. Also would be willing to pay him more than stated seeing as New York can't offer anywhere near as much money as we can.
Gary Trent Jr - Prolific Floor Spacer. Not the greatest defender or playmaker, but shouldn't be as big of an issue next to Cade and Ausar. We will have to overpay for him though, seeing as Toronto has the money to keep him.
Or
Kentavious Caldwell-Pope - AN ACTUAL THREE & D guard next to Cade which is what this team desperately needs until Ivey is ready to play that role consistently if he ever is. Not a lockdown defender, but has a very good defensive iq and knows where to be in order to be a good team defender next to Ausar. Would obviously be a good floor spacer. Could also front load his contract to attract him to the team seeing as he's in the same situation with Denver as Hartenstein is with New York.
Monte Morris - Should not have been traded in the first place. Good playmaking option of the bench who also had one of the better AST/TO ratios in the league. Would help to cut down on TO's for a team that often lost games soley because of them.
Simeone Fonteccio (Resign) - Played very well next to the young core and was very affective from the moment he got to the team. Was practically a way better defending / slightly worse finishing Bojan. Cade played his best basketball next to him.
Mike Muscala - Good floor spacing big.
Cedi Osman - Decent wing depth vet
Other Options Nic Claxton (C) Malik Beasley (SG) De'Anthony Melton (SG) Malik Monk (SG) Royce O'Neale (SF) Bruce Brown (SG) Gary Trent (SG) Markelle Fultz (PG) Isaac Okoro (SG) Derrick Jones Jr (SF) Caleb Martin (SF) Jonas Valanciunas (C) Taurean Prince (PF) Kyle Andersen (PF) Cam Payne (PG) Jordan McLaughlin (PG) Isaiah Joe (SG) Cedi Osman (SF) Lonnie Walker (SG) Patty Mills (PG) Jalen Smith (PF) Daniel Theis (C) Thomas Bryant (C) Lamar Stevens (SF) Delon Wright (PG) Matt Ryan (SF)
Draft
Pick 5 - Dalton Knecht (Good Floor Spacer, who can also finish at the rim. Won't be asked to create a ton for himself. Not worried about his defense when played next to Ausar.) We could also trade back in the draft to get him while picking up an extra asset.
or
Matas Buzelis (Could be very affective if his high school shooting numbers translate to the league and he's able to get stronger. Biggest ? In the draft, but worth the risk.)
Pick 30 - Harrison Ingram (Good-not-great defender who may struggle to defend speedier guards, but has very good hands and can help to generate more steals while also being a good team defender. He can also space the floor consistently and could add more wing depth and length at the SF position.
Let me know what you think.
2024.05.16 13:03 bsamb To try exercise physiotherapy again or not
 | I first injured my spine 6 months back and got an l4-l5-s1 disc bulge. At that time, i tried exercise physiotherapy and it was very helpful. 3 months later, i went for a wildlife Safari and reinjured my back. This time along with the bulge, I got an edema of the sacroiliac joint. I had partial success with hydrotherapy and exercises. This time i also developed left hand numbness. But I had recovered enough to drive my car for short distances with less traffic. I was asked to go to the pool twice a day since my doctor was concerned about my slow recovery. He also asked me to swim for the hand numbness. The problem with swimming was that it used to hurt my lower back a bit. He asked me to continue doing it though I expressed my discomfort. One day, I drove to the pool in the evening and felt a pop in my back when I swam. My pain surged and I developed an increased back pain along with numbness in the left leg along with burning near the butt. I went to the physio therapy clinic where I was getting treatment and they pushed me out saying that I had psychological issues. They gave me a last set of exercises that made the burning worse. Then i rushed to a hospital where they ordered a full spine mri and found that the disc had bulged further and I had an annular tear. I got ultrasound and tens therapy. That helped a bit and they gave some very basic exercises. On the final day, I asked the physio doctor to recommend a sports rehab centre to help me get back to normalcy and he asked me to only do these exercises alone and not try anything else since it might botch up my spine further if I try anything more. He asked me to do walking, swimming and cycling. I am a bit confused since swimming hurts me and I can't swim for more than 5 minutes. The same goes for walking. I practically can't sit at all. I looked up physio centers and most of even the good ones seem to be good at handling simple cases. A couple of them did look at multifactorial cases like mine but mainly catered to sports people which may be too tough for me. Is it ok for me to try exercising on my own? I am afraid that it may lead to a development of scar tissue and permanent back pain. These are the options that I can see. submitted by bsamb to backpain [link] [comments]
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2024.05.16 12:03 TaliGrayson Australia's biggest beast in the bush may have just committed serial killing. I am not sure if I can show all of you that, so I will tell you.
Being eaten.
No, I do not mean being on the receiving end as someone goes down on you. Sex seems to be popular in fiction these days, if the shitty Fifty Shades of Grey is any indication, and I sorely, desperately wish what I was about to write was all fiction. Then I could sprinkle some gratuitous sex on it, go to a publisher, and hope that it would sell. Then I would be not risking my job altogether sharing this so that strangers on the Internet would at least know of my suffering in having to watch human beings die brutal, bloody deaths to satisfy a desire even more primal than sex and far less pleasurable.
Yes, I’m talking about eating. And about being literally, bona fide eaten. An incredulous notion in modern society, where we live in concrete houses and walk on asphalt streets. Where the animals we encounter are anywhere between little quacking ducks and crotch-high geese. We live free of our early ancestor’s fear of becoming something else’s food. Crocodile, tiger, lion - pick your customer. It, in most cases, starts with the intense pressure of clamp-strong jaws, driving teeth into parts of your body where teeth should not be stabbing into. Depending on how lucky you are, there will likely be hellish pain lasting anywhere from seconds to minutes (that I am willing to bet feels much longer) before death takes you. What happens to your consciousness after that is a popular debate. What happens to your body is not. You get chewed into a consistency similar to hamburger patties in some cases, swallowed whole in others. Different vehicles to the same destination of an acidic stomach. Your useful parts are broken down into a mushy soup. The rest are ejected from the back end.
A shitty way to go, literally and metaphorically. A living human being, full of emotions and dreams and hope, turned into lifeless steak, soup then shit. At least three out of five young men and women whose last days I will recount below went that way. The other two… well, let’s say that it has been three weeks at this time of writing, and I do not have much hope.
The day started with Matthew dropping several paper files in beige covers on my desk. When I opened it and saw a report complete with pictures of grinning people on the first page, I knew right there and then that it was going to be anything but a normal day at work.
“Missing?” I asked, eyebrows raising. It was the single possibility. Police could have pictures on their desks for all kinds of stuff, but not us rangers. Only then did I notice the tight line Matthew’s lips had pressed into.
“Not like that, no.” He shook his head. “None of them got lost. All five came down here from Sydney, stayed at Winston Ward’s place. That’s Ward’s daughter, Madeleine.” His fingers pressed on the picture of a girl at the top of the page. Hair dyed blue and with the brightest smile of the bunch, I noticed. “She and one other, Cathy, their Indigenous guide, are the two still missing.” Matthew pointed next to the picture below Madeleine. Cathy was dark-skinned and had a hiking stick resting above her shoulder, clearly posing for some sort of promotional photo. “And these three, well…”
I took a quick glance at the other photos. Steve Wilson had the build of a runner, wiry and dressed in a tank top to match. Lisa Mooney, blonde with gold-rimmed glasses. Ashley Lo - his curly dark hair tied back into a ponytail. I knew I would not have to pay extra-close attention to their appearance. Two missing.
“I don’t know, man. Kind of wanted your input on it, too.” Matthew shook his head. “Best you see it for yourself. The police could not decide if it was murder or an animal attack, so they requested us. Found all three of them ripped apart. Caught, well, a suspect, I suppose, on their own cam-”
“You kidding? A suspect and they could not decide if it’s an animal attack or not?”
“I know, Tom, watch it for yourself and tell me I’m not crazy. Hells, they didn’t just have the pictures. Caught the damned killings on film, and still can’t decide if he, it - whatever - is man or animal. I will send the footage over in a bit. Some photos are in there, too. Just don’t puke up your breakfast. I’m seriously thinking of going vegan.”
What the fuck?
I frowned. Matthew could not wait for someone to share his hell, I supposed, and quickly retreated back into his office, leaving me alone with the papers.
Here are the facts.
Winston Ward, your typical real estate rich guy, bought some bushland last year next to our park. His plan was straightforward - setting up lavish air-conditioned bungalows amidst the Australian bush, complete with five-star hotel facilities such as private pools and a fine dining restaurant. A luxury retreat amidst trees and shrubs, letting you enjoy the best of nature and avoiding the worst. No insect stings, soaking rains or blistering heat that the normal campers had to suffer. Just a couple of hours drive from Sydney to boot. All well and good, except for the fact that it came alarmingly close to intruding on national park’s land. So Parks and Wildlife Service took notice and kept a close eye on Ward’s project. So far, even though he has not opened his retreat and nothing illegal had been done, Ward became a popular name among us rangers. Just in case.
I certainly did not expect his name - or his family’s name, rather - to come up this way.
It had been Ashley’s idea. An Ecology graduate, he wanted to make a documentary about Aboriginal people’s way of sustainable living among nature. He got his girlfriend, Madeleine Ward, into it, alongside fellow graduates Steve and Lisa. Madeleine easily secured the filming spot with her father. They hired Cathy as the expert for the film, and the five of them occupied two bungalows. Living in the lap of luxury while trying to promote sustainability. Three cameras were installed. Two security cams for each bungalow, expectedly. The third was a camera trap, the kind used on wildlife trails to capture pictures and videos of animals. Likely intended for fun.
As much as I respect the purpose of their never-finished documentary, I find twenty six-year-old Ashley rather hypocritical, and rather gross given how Madeleine only turned eighteen three months ago. But not to speak ill of the dead, I suppose.
I braced myself as I turned the page for the photos, and failed to stop the dry-heave that came up. Three bodies, gnawed clean of flesh. Strands of dark curly hair on the first mangled head identified it as Ashley’s. The skull was smashed open, its insides, empty where a brain had been licked clean, caked with dried blood. Shattered pieces of his bones were strewn over muddy soil, brown rain water filling in troughs where the marrow that had been sucked out. Steve and Lisa was in roughly a familiar state, and I shivered at how disturbingly clean the bones were. Take away the skull that clearly showed the remains to be human, and it could have been a smokehouse’s dump - filled with finished ribs and chicken wings.
And yet, the final photo proved even more unsettling.
It was a still taken from one of the security cameras. At night, judging from the grey filter. It was still bright enough, however, for me to make out the grassy front of a bungalow. Bushes and shrubs lined the far end. A dark figure loomed over them, casting a long shadow.
I shivered once more.
I had walked into the bushes hundreds, if not thousands, of times. I knew how dense they could be - reaching up to your chests in many places. That figure - standing on two legs with long arms drooping at its side - barely had its knees covered by the shrubs. The photo, even though grainy, was clear enough for me to make out a domed head resting upon a neck so thick the figure might as well be said to lack one. Matching broad shoulders held up that neck, deltoids bulging. The… thing, apparently, had little hair as far as I could see.
I did not notice how hard I had clenched my jaws until a cramp-like pain made me grunt. Matthew could not be fucking with me, could he? I had worked with the guy for years. I called the local police station. The woman on the other end confirmed it. Unless a whole station was in on the prank with Matthew - an idea equally impossible as what I was seeing - it seemed like we had won the reverse lottery of missing and dead people cases.
As much as the Internet likes to make fun of its deadly wildlife, most of Australia has no large land predators. Dingoes are pretty much your average dog. The huge crocs live way too far to the north and sharks do not magically appear in the middle of bushlands. Neither looked like some psychopathic, cannibalistic basketball player wearing a shaved-clean, badly proportioned gorilla suit. The police’s best option was us, I could tell, but as far as me and Matthew went, we were equally clueless.
I shook my head and rubbed my temples - for a moment questioning my sense of reality. That was until an alert jabbed into the screen of my desktop. Matthew’s email.
Here is the footage, Tom. Crazy stuff. I got them to send us a scan of Madeleine’s journal, too. Found where those kids were seen last.
An unholy amount of files came in a link he attached.
The rest of my day was spent going through them all. I still know not what to make of what I saw, and I need time to collect myself before I can write of what I have seen on those tapes.
I need a nap. And dinner. But no meat. I agree with Matthew. As much as I loved a nice scotch fillet, I’m probably going vegan for a while.
submitted by TaliGrayson to nosleep [link] [comments]
No, I do not mean being on the receiving end as someone goes down on you. Sex seems to be popular in fiction these days, if the shitty Fifty Shades of Grey is any indication, and I sorely, desperately wish what I was about to write was all fiction. Then I could sprinkle some gratuitous sex on it, go to a publisher, and hope that it would sell. Then I would be not risking my job altogether sharing this so that strangers on the Internet would at least know of my suffering in having to watch human beings die brutal, bloody deaths to satisfy a desire even more primal than sex and far less pleasurable.
Yes, I’m talking about eating. And about being literally, bona fide eaten. An incredulous notion in modern society, where we live in concrete houses and walk on asphalt streets. Where the animals we encounter are anywhere between little quacking ducks and crotch-high geese. We live free of our early ancestor’s fear of becoming something else’s food. Crocodile, tiger, lion - pick your customer. It, in most cases, starts with the intense pressure of clamp-strong jaws, driving teeth into parts of your body where teeth should not be stabbing into. Depending on how lucky you are, there will likely be hellish pain lasting anywhere from seconds to minutes (that I am willing to bet feels much longer) before death takes you. What happens to your consciousness after that is a popular debate. What happens to your body is not. You get chewed into a consistency similar to hamburger patties in some cases, swallowed whole in others. Different vehicles to the same destination of an acidic stomach. Your useful parts are broken down into a mushy soup. The rest are ejected from the back end.
A shitty way to go, literally and metaphorically. A living human being, full of emotions and dreams and hope, turned into lifeless steak, soup then shit. At least three out of five young men and women whose last days I will recount below went that way. The other two… well, let’s say that it has been three weeks at this time of writing, and I do not have much hope.
The day started with Matthew dropping several paper files in beige covers on my desk. When I opened it and saw a report complete with pictures of grinning people on the first page, I knew right there and then that it was going to be anything but a normal day at work.
“Missing?” I asked, eyebrows raising. It was the single possibility. Police could have pictures on their desks for all kinds of stuff, but not us rangers. Only then did I notice the tight line Matthew’s lips had pressed into.
“Not like that, no.” He shook his head. “None of them got lost. All five came down here from Sydney, stayed at Winston Ward’s place. That’s Ward’s daughter, Madeleine.” His fingers pressed on the picture of a girl at the top of the page. Hair dyed blue and with the brightest smile of the bunch, I noticed. “She and one other, Cathy, their Indigenous guide, are the two still missing.” Matthew pointed next to the picture below Madeleine. Cathy was dark-skinned and had a hiking stick resting above her shoulder, clearly posing for some sort of promotional photo. “And these three, well…”
I took a quick glance at the other photos. Steve Wilson had the build of a runner, wiry and dressed in a tank top to match. Lisa Mooney, blonde with gold-rimmed glasses. Ashley Lo - his curly dark hair tied back into a ponytail. I knew I would not have to pay extra-close attention to their appearance. Two missing.
“I don’t know, man. Kind of wanted your input on it, too.” Matthew shook his head. “Best you see it for yourself. The police could not decide if it was murder or an animal attack, so they requested us. Found all three of them ripped apart. Caught, well, a suspect, I suppose, on their own cam-”
“You kidding? A suspect and they could not decide if it’s an animal attack or not?”
“I know, Tom, watch it for yourself and tell me I’m not crazy. Hells, they didn’t just have the pictures. Caught the damned killings on film, and still can’t decide if he, it - whatever - is man or animal. I will send the footage over in a bit. Some photos are in there, too. Just don’t puke up your breakfast. I’m seriously thinking of going vegan.”
What the fuck?
I frowned. Matthew could not wait for someone to share his hell, I supposed, and quickly retreated back into his office, leaving me alone with the papers.
Here are the facts.
Winston Ward, your typical real estate rich guy, bought some bushland last year next to our park. His plan was straightforward - setting up lavish air-conditioned bungalows amidst the Australian bush, complete with five-star hotel facilities such as private pools and a fine dining restaurant. A luxury retreat amidst trees and shrubs, letting you enjoy the best of nature and avoiding the worst. No insect stings, soaking rains or blistering heat that the normal campers had to suffer. Just a couple of hours drive from Sydney to boot. All well and good, except for the fact that it came alarmingly close to intruding on national park’s land. So Parks and Wildlife Service took notice and kept a close eye on Ward’s project. So far, even though he has not opened his retreat and nothing illegal had been done, Ward became a popular name among us rangers. Just in case.
I certainly did not expect his name - or his family’s name, rather - to come up this way.
It had been Ashley’s idea. An Ecology graduate, he wanted to make a documentary about Aboriginal people’s way of sustainable living among nature. He got his girlfriend, Madeleine Ward, into it, alongside fellow graduates Steve and Lisa. Madeleine easily secured the filming spot with her father. They hired Cathy as the expert for the film, and the five of them occupied two bungalows. Living in the lap of luxury while trying to promote sustainability. Three cameras were installed. Two security cams for each bungalow, expectedly. The third was a camera trap, the kind used on wildlife trails to capture pictures and videos of animals. Likely intended for fun.
As much as I respect the purpose of their never-finished documentary, I find twenty six-year-old Ashley rather hypocritical, and rather gross given how Madeleine only turned eighteen three months ago. But not to speak ill of the dead, I suppose.
I braced myself as I turned the page for the photos, and failed to stop the dry-heave that came up. Three bodies, gnawed clean of flesh. Strands of dark curly hair on the first mangled head identified it as Ashley’s. The skull was smashed open, its insides, empty where a brain had been licked clean, caked with dried blood. Shattered pieces of his bones were strewn over muddy soil, brown rain water filling in troughs where the marrow that had been sucked out. Steve and Lisa was in roughly a familiar state, and I shivered at how disturbingly clean the bones were. Take away the skull that clearly showed the remains to be human, and it could have been a smokehouse’s dump - filled with finished ribs and chicken wings.
And yet, the final photo proved even more unsettling.
It was a still taken from one of the security cameras. At night, judging from the grey filter. It was still bright enough, however, for me to make out the grassy front of a bungalow. Bushes and shrubs lined the far end. A dark figure loomed over them, casting a long shadow.
I shivered once more.
I had walked into the bushes hundreds, if not thousands, of times. I knew how dense they could be - reaching up to your chests in many places. That figure - standing on two legs with long arms drooping at its side - barely had its knees covered by the shrubs. The photo, even though grainy, was clear enough for me to make out a domed head resting upon a neck so thick the figure might as well be said to lack one. Matching broad shoulders held up that neck, deltoids bulging. The… thing, apparently, had little hair as far as I could see.
I did not notice how hard I had clenched my jaws until a cramp-like pain made me grunt. Matthew could not be fucking with me, could he? I had worked with the guy for years. I called the local police station. The woman on the other end confirmed it. Unless a whole station was in on the prank with Matthew - an idea equally impossible as what I was seeing - it seemed like we had won the reverse lottery of missing and dead people cases.
As much as the Internet likes to make fun of its deadly wildlife, most of Australia has no large land predators. Dingoes are pretty much your average dog. The huge crocs live way too far to the north and sharks do not magically appear in the middle of bushlands. Neither looked like some psychopathic, cannibalistic basketball player wearing a shaved-clean, badly proportioned gorilla suit. The police’s best option was us, I could tell, but as far as me and Matthew went, we were equally clueless.
I shook my head and rubbed my temples - for a moment questioning my sense of reality. That was until an alert jabbed into the screen of my desktop. Matthew’s email.
Here is the footage, Tom. Crazy stuff. I got them to send us a scan of Madeleine’s journal, too. Found where those kids were seen last.
An unholy amount of files came in a link he attached.
The rest of my day was spent going through them all. I still know not what to make of what I saw, and I need time to collect myself before I can write of what I have seen on those tapes.
I need a nap. And dinner. But no meat. I agree with Matthew. As much as I loved a nice scotch fillet, I’m probably going vegan for a while.
2024.05.16 11:23 nuraman00 The Beverly Hills 90210 Show Podcast: Episode 127: Casting Season 4.
Dianne Young, casting director, is a guest host.
David Gail interview:
submitted by nuraman00 to BeverlyHills90210 [link] [comments]
- During season 1, the initial order was for 12 episodes. No one thought they would actually make it to 12 episodes.
David Gail interview:
- He is joining from France.
- He thinks his bellhop role is in season 2. When corrected that it’s season 1, he says “excuse-moi” (in his French accent).
- Young cast him because he was nice and easy on the set.
- His son is also on the video. His son’s name is Gautier. His son makes a bunch of funny faces and hand signs throughout the interview.
- His agent would tell him you don’t need to meet the casting director, for auditions in general. Gail wanted to meet them anyways, because he wanted to meet as many people as possible.
- The original season 1 pilot was 2 hours. Rosin passed. It was eventually trimmed to 90 minutes, and about 30 minutes of music videos were cut. Aaron Spelling then wanted to meet him, after the pilot was trimmed. Rosin took the meeting.
- Aaron Spelling did not want to have a season in college. There was a lot of anxiety about the format changing after high school.
- The first two to three episodes of Melrose Place got a higher rating than Beverly Hills, 90210. They convinced the president of FOX, Lucie Salhany,
- Gautier has now taken out a puppet. The entire podcast starts laughing, except for Gail, who doesn’t know what’s happening behind him.
- Rosin then promises FOX that they’re going to have Brenda elope, and that will be the number 1 show that week.
- There was a lot of pressure at this time.
- Young kept waiting for more details about the elopement plot line to emerge.
- No one knew that Doherty was going to be leaving at the end of the season.
- Gail was unaware about any issues Doherty might have been having with the management company.
- Gail had no idea how big this plot was going to be.
- Aaron Spelling gave Gail a kiss and hug after his audition.
- Young does not remember other people that auditioned for this role.
- Mollin says Paul Waigner and Jessica Klein also had a big part in casting Gail.
- Rosin says sometimes during auditions, people talk their way out of a role. They get nervous and talk too much.
- Rosin tells a story of how he once met an actor. Rosin told him he liked this movie he was in. The actor then spent 5 minutes telling Rosin why the movie sucked. This was an example of an actor talking his way out of a future role.
- When Gail came in season 1, he read for a recurring role. They didn’t want him because he was too green. They then offered him the bellhop role.
- During season 4, when Gail was offered the role of Stuart, he asked how they could bring him back as a different character.
- Rosin said at the time, he didn’t think people were watching the show that closely. He didn’t know that there would be dedicated fans like there are today.
- Rosin and Young wanted Gail because everyone had liked Gail from before. Young says she had known him from before, and trusted him.
- Young had reminded Rosin of what Gail had done before, in season 1.
- When Gail went into the Spelling office for this season 4 audition, and saw all of the producers lined up, he was intimidated. Gail had to use psychological tricks like telling himself to breathe. Don’t start when they start, but start when you want to start. Wait until you are in that character.
- Gail cannot walk into an audition and just start being in character. He has to be David Gail first. Meaning he has to say hi to everyone as David Gail first. Then he can get in character.
- Rosin says one of Aaron Spelling’s biggest strengths was casting.
- The first time Rosin heard Aaron Spelling say that his strength was casting, Rosin thought that was BS. But, overtime, Rosin agreed that Aaron Spelling was that good.
- Aaron Spelling knew Julia Roberts was going to be a star, when he saw her in Mystic Pizza.
- David Gail’s son somehow appears on screen, upside down, from the top of the camera. Gail has to shoo his son away again.
- During season 2, Doherty had a boyfriend in Chicago named Chris Lupus. He was wealthy. So Rosin created a character that reminded him of that boyfriend, in Stuart.
- Gail says the plot was fun.
- Gail likes how Stuart was spoiled and possibly dealing drugs. He said it’s more fun to play a character like that.
- Both actors that played Stuart’s parents (Peter Mark Richman, Claudette Nevins) have passed away.
- Mollin likes the dynamic of how Stuart’s dad thought Stuart was a loser, and Brenda was making him a winner.
- Gino Conforti, from Three’s Company, was the mechanic in “Strangers In The Night”.
- Both Richman and Conforti were on Three’s Company.
- Jessica Klein created Jesse Vasquez. That was the name of her college boyfriend.
- Young went through a lot of resumes with pictures for this character. She had put Mark Damon Espinoza aside. After a few days, she kept going back to his picture. He didn’t have a lot of credits. She wanted to meet him.
- He was so easy to talk to. He was friendly. He was from Texas.
- He had a good theater background.
- Mollin didn’t like the casting at first. He’s grown to love Espinoza. Mollin says the character worked.
- Mollin: A baby is a show killer.
- Young: All of the cast has an opportunity to give input on casting. Carteris didn’t say things about whether a potential picture on a resume was terrific.
- Rosin and Mollin now think Espinoza was pitch perfect in all of his scenes. Even the ones with Ian Ziering in season 5.
- Rosin: He’s a good friend of this podcast.
- As soon as Young saw Kathleen Robertson, Young knew she had to pay close attention.
- She was easy to work with. She wasn’t nervous.
- Robertson had a unique hat. Mollin and Rosin noticed it. They used that same hat in her character’s intro scene.
- Lou Patrick negotiated Robertson’s contract. (A woman).
- Aaron Spelling had accidentally sent out a cast renewal to Shannen Doherty. Lou Patrick saw that and alerted Rosin. It had already been decided by this point that Doherty wasn’t coming back. They were able to stop that from getting to Doherty.
- Young had hired Nicholas Pryor before on another show. He was professional.
- Young: Christine Belford (Samantha Sanders), Pryor’s wife, was a good actress.
- Kelly McDonald, Young’s assistant, met with actors for D’Shawn Hardell. She was the one that recommended Cress Williams to Young. He was very new.
- Rosin and Mollin liked him.
- Unlike Tico Wells from season 1 (whom Rosin beat in basketball), Cress Williams could not play basketball.
- Young had known Dina Meyer (Lucinda) from before. She had always liked Meyer.
- There wasn’t an audition. Tony Shepherd just told Rosin that Dina Meyer would play the part.
- Barry Bonds and Dina Meyer are the only actors that Tony Shepherd told Rosin who to pick. There wasn’t an audition.
- Young loved Scott Paulin (Professor Randall). She had known his credits.
- Young doesn’t remember too much from Tracy Middendorf’s (Laura Kingman) audition.
- Young: Noley Thornton (Erica) was wonderful. She had seen her from “The Martin Short Show”.
- They had to make a lot of arrangements to get her from one set to another, because she was on both shows. But child actors have some limitations.
- One time, they were praying Thornton would be able to make it, because The Martin Short Show was running long.
- Kerrie Keane (Suzanne) didn’t know that there was going to be a scam.
- When Jessica Klein pitched the scam story to Aaron Spelling, Spelling thought the audience would know right away. He didn’t think the scam would work. Rosin had to promise that no one would see it coming, by the end.
- Rosin likes how he can talk to actors that come on the podcast now, because he was never able to do it when the show was being made. Jason Carter (Roy Randolph) is one such example.
- Young says there were a lot of British actors, at the time, because there was a lot of work in Los Angeles. And they were paid more here, then in British Television.
- Young had met Paul Johannson (John Sears) before.
- He was one of Jason Priestley’s friends.
- David Sherrill (Jack Canner) was another one of Priestley’s friends.
- Young would tell Priestley why one of his friends would or would not get the role.
- Young loves Brook Theiss (Leslie Sumner). She had met Theiss on Growing Pains, and Just The Ten Of Us. She was such a joh to be around. Young also introduced Theiss’ husband to her.
- Young likes Theiss so much, that she would cast her for something right now if she could.
- Young does not remember Kari Wuhrer (Ariel Hunter).
- Young remembers Matthew Perreta (Dan Rubin) a little.
- Young does not remember the Minnesota girls.
- Young loves Jed Allen (Rush Sanders). His acting was similar to Ian Ziering’s. She saw it right away that he was Steve Sander’s dad.
- Ryan Thomas Brown (Muntz) was easy to work with.
- Young had known Zachary Throne (Howard) from before.
2024.05.16 10:18 Tinycubb Anyone have some basketball cards stolen recently? This post is to hopefully find the rightful owner.
Long story short, I always talk to the homeless people around my apartment. Sat down on the curb with a group around 11:45 on 05/14, and they told me they stole basketball cards from someone somewhere. After our chat one of the guys really wanted me to take them and find the rightful owner. Anyways Reddit, if someone has had their cards stolen PM me and we will figure it out.
I live in NW. That is where the conversation happened as well.
submitted by Tinycubb to Portland [link] [comments]
I live in NW. That is where the conversation happened as well.
2024.05.16 09:13 AntonioMartin12 here is my life story
Friends, talking to someone very important in my life today, I was told to write today about my life on facebook, the real story.
And hardly anyone knows the whole story, and that's true. So then I'm going to arm myself with courage and tell everything: And to take whatever comes back my way. When I was born, in Puerto Rico, I was a sickly person. I had among other things, a heart disease. At three years old I began to experience something that I had no idea it was at that time: I did not feel like a boy but like a girl instead. I told my parents but as neither they nor I understood what this was, they told me that I was male etc. By five years old I began to be attracted to girls: I liked my neighbor Noemi.
At that time, I was already attending church, because my family has always been Christian. At 7, I sang at the children's choir of the Disciples of Christ church in Bayamon.At that time my family lived well, my parents had businesses and we had a large house with a lady who I will not call a servant because to me she was like my aunt, Titi Sandra. We had some luxuries, not many but enough.
We traveled to other countries for vacation during weekends, etc. , In short, we lived well. At the age of nine, I was diagnosed with type one diabetes, and then my family lost the business for things that happen in life and we moved first to Humacao and then to Caguas, where at 11 years old I was in a coma, which decades later, I found out that as a result of that coma, my brain had been affected in such a way that in essence the doctors told my parents that emotionally (not intellectually) I was going to stay at the age I was when that took place for the rest of my life maybe. But they didn't tell me that at that time. The thing is that also at the same time I wanted with all my soul at that same time to get into boxing as a competitor. I saw in Wilfredo Gomez, Wilfred Benitez and Muhammad Ali my heroes. I wanted to be like them and started going to the gym,
I had a couple of fights as an amateur. For those who do not know, particularly my great friends from Caguas, at that time when we moved to Cayey, two extremely important things happened in my life: I met the love of my life, a girl named Thylvenetssie, who is an American girl of Puerto Rican parents, as she had arrived in Cayey from Boston, Massachusetts.
She liked music and she and her friends Hilda, Ana and Carmen formed a band which sometimes they took the stage of the middle school we all attenced and started singing at lunch, nothing seriously but for them it was serious enough. For my part, I was still in boxing and all that but, Thylvenetssiee and I fell in love, we went out to eat a few times together and then she asked me to join her band and I, in order to keep being next to her all the time, joined them. What followed was unimaginable: suddenly I gained popularity and everyone at school knew us. I enjoyed it because as she had come from the United States, she knew the lyrics of many songs, and me, living with my secret, I not only loved the songs of Van Halen, The Beatles, Menudo and Duran Duran (what a mix haha!) but also those of Madonna, Cyndi Lauper and Bananarama too. And not only that but when we became known at school, I had my "fans" also, one in particular was named Maritza and I always remember her because she was always next to me when Thilvenetssiee was not with me.
Through all that, I still went to the gym and trained because I was known as the boxer who sang. In essence I was the only male in a "girl band." But my parents saw that the hospital in Cayey was not very good and decided without telling me that we had to return to Caguas. And one weekend we returned. I wanted, cause of what I just told you about the girl and our band, to go back to school in Cayey, but I couldn't because the government wasn't going to allow me anyway because I now lived in another city. There I rejoined again with my friends and soul mates from Caguas ,and I also liked a girl named Leila.
Then I got into the Ebenezer United Methodist Church, where I was in the adult choir at 14 years old, I also continued with boxing but one day, the night before the fight between Marvelous Marvin Hagler and Sugar Ray Leonard, I had a dream where I died in a boxing match and took it as an omen and decided not to continue with that idea of becoming a boxer. I met a girl named Loyda, and other friends, I started to hang out with a clique of teen friends, I had a great time but something else very important also took place: I fell in love with a girl named Angie. At that time I wasn't used to girls telling me they didn't love me, but when I asked her out, she told me she didn't want to be my girlfriend. that happened on May 20, 1989. My friend Victor must remember because he knew how in love I was and that night I remember Victor phoned me at my home from his, to console me. Then I began to experience depression, I wanted to kill myself, I wanted to commit suicide. On top of that, when my pastor found out that I had begun to visit Angie's church, he told me to continue going to her church and I felt that he had basically told me to stop going to mine (his). I was so desperate that I went and sought medical help from my school psychologist, and the psychologist invited me to his home for a "private session."
Luckily, I did not go because it felt weird, and I knew more or less what he meant, and a month later I found out through the janitor of the school, that the doctor was fired because he had said similar things to other young people at school. Imagine that! But also, during that era, my friends and I were planning to form another band and we even used to go to town to take theater, singing, and dance classes, and because of that and also because of the conversations I had with my parents, with my friends and with my aunt Lourdes who one day grabbed me by my arm and told me "do not do what I would not do" and also because God was with me, I still had hopes and so I survived depression. But nevertheless, there was still that doubt that I had, that unresolved issue: inside myself I had this female voice. I saw myself and felt like Madonna or Molly Ringwald and I did not understand why.
Playing basketball, I saw myself as a girl. Kissing girls, it was the same. Boxing, it was the same. In church praying, hanging with my buddies, singing, it was always the same. In April 1990, we boarded a plane and moved to the United States. I wanted to become an entertainer at that time. When I arrived in the United States, I realized that I also liked boys. I still didn't know that in Puerto Rico, so I was shocked for quite some time. Here I tried to enter the Marines and I went to be sent but when they realized that I have Diabetes when they did my medical, they disqualified me, But I tried at least, and worked as an ice cream salesperson, in the hope of being able to pay my entrance to some talent agency which I achieved after many years.
I was about to marry a girl I met one day when, leaving her house, she ran to me and kissed me and there we met; two weeks later we were in court for the court wedding, but we decided not to do it and we ran out of there. She was a witch, she liked black magic and that and I got into that lifestyle even though I was still a Christian and I was never fully involved in it like her. She was Gothic and I got into the Gothic style too. From then on came the parties, the clubs, the "crazy life". I also found another church here where I started to go but I got into trouble with the pastor because of one spefific rule I disagreed with in that church. The thing is that I was in a group of more or less 20 or 30 different characters: we always went everywhere together and, besides that, I was already in a well-known talent agency working as a model.
But that agency passed into the hands of a group people which some of the other models told me were not reliable and all the models I knew, including me, said goodbye to them and that was that. At that time I had a girlfriend a very beautiful black girl by the way but I wanted to continue in my wild ways and living the crazy life.
A lifetime of meeting famous people such as several ex-Menudo, Wilfredo Gomez, Michael Jordan, Sunset Thomas, Pamela Anderson, Sylvester Stallone, Ringo Starr, two former presidents of the United States and even Princess Anne of England. Of fist fights wherever they found me, of casinos, hotels, of addiction. And another thing: not only did I know I was bisexual but also something else: transgender. I told my sister Nilda a week at the end of 1996, while still dating my fiancée. On a cold December night. (I remember they were showing a soap opera with the beautiful Mexican actress Lucero and when I told her at that time I felt very much like "Lucero" hahaha) By 1999, I asked my doctor to do an operation to change sex, but he denied it based on my Diabetes condition. I continued to play basketball every week, organizing another musical group that I had for a short time here, and leading my crazy life. Until one day I was about to do something crazy against a private property and, after that, the group I hung out with gave me an ultimatum: either I would change or my hanging out with them would end.
I went through rehabilitation, I began to behave better, but little by little that era came to an end. I returned to church but because things that happen in life, I had to move to a house where the church where I live at now is somewhat far away and then, covid also came, and I do not like to go out where there are a lot of people so much. I am still transgender, but recently one of my other aunts (Aunt Raquel and her husband Joe Gomez) spoke to me and now every day I ask God to forgive me for everything I did, for who I am and have been.And the reason why I am writing this here today is not to brag, I am neither proud nor ashamed of my life but there are many people who do not know a quarter of it and someone told me today to talk about it and encouraged me to tell you about it so that everyone knows, but they also said to speak with the truth and talk openly.
Those from Caguas do not know what happened in Cayey, many my family did not know about my time with depression, and neither those of Caguas nor most of my family and friends knew about my transgenderism and that I even own a couple of dressees. Nor about my love history or anything like that. It's time to get courageous and tell the whole truth. Whoever told me to write this, told me to tell the whole truth. And here it is.
I have bounced from one wall to the other, I had love affairs with men and women, (although now I am heterosexual again- I like only girls) I have been popular and I have been ignored, brave and cowardly, and yes I have also been both a man and a woman in spirit, I have been an angel and a demon, healthy and sick I have lived well off and kind of poor too, sung and acted, the latter in film (Eight Legged Freaks) and theater (mostly badly). That is my life, my truth.And every night I pray to God for Him to forgive me. I hope that when it is my turn to speak with Him in eternity, my heavenly Father will forgive me. For at the end of the day I never ceased to be a Christian, to believe in Him and to love Him.
My aunt Raquel still says if I dont stop being transgender I will go to Hell. She does not understand how much this hurts to hear.
submitted by AntonioMartin12 to trans [link] [comments]
And hardly anyone knows the whole story, and that's true. So then I'm going to arm myself with courage and tell everything: And to take whatever comes back my way. When I was born, in Puerto Rico, I was a sickly person. I had among other things, a heart disease. At three years old I began to experience something that I had no idea it was at that time: I did not feel like a boy but like a girl instead. I told my parents but as neither they nor I understood what this was, they told me that I was male etc. By five years old I began to be attracted to girls: I liked my neighbor Noemi.
At that time, I was already attending church, because my family has always been Christian. At 7, I sang at the children's choir of the Disciples of Christ church in Bayamon.At that time my family lived well, my parents had businesses and we had a large house with a lady who I will not call a servant because to me she was like my aunt, Titi Sandra. We had some luxuries, not many but enough.
We traveled to other countries for vacation during weekends, etc. , In short, we lived well. At the age of nine, I was diagnosed with type one diabetes, and then my family lost the business for things that happen in life and we moved first to Humacao and then to Caguas, where at 11 years old I was in a coma, which decades later, I found out that as a result of that coma, my brain had been affected in such a way that in essence the doctors told my parents that emotionally (not intellectually) I was going to stay at the age I was when that took place for the rest of my life maybe. But they didn't tell me that at that time. The thing is that also at the same time I wanted with all my soul at that same time to get into boxing as a competitor. I saw in Wilfredo Gomez, Wilfred Benitez and Muhammad Ali my heroes. I wanted to be like them and started going to the gym,
I had a couple of fights as an amateur. For those who do not know, particularly my great friends from Caguas, at that time when we moved to Cayey, two extremely important things happened in my life: I met the love of my life, a girl named Thylvenetssie, who is an American girl of Puerto Rican parents, as she had arrived in Cayey from Boston, Massachusetts.
She liked music and she and her friends Hilda, Ana and Carmen formed a band which sometimes they took the stage of the middle school we all attenced and started singing at lunch, nothing seriously but for them it was serious enough. For my part, I was still in boxing and all that but, Thylvenetssiee and I fell in love, we went out to eat a few times together and then she asked me to join her band and I, in order to keep being next to her all the time, joined them. What followed was unimaginable: suddenly I gained popularity and everyone at school knew us. I enjoyed it because as she had come from the United States, she knew the lyrics of many songs, and me, living with my secret, I not only loved the songs of Van Halen, The Beatles, Menudo and Duran Duran (what a mix haha!) but also those of Madonna, Cyndi Lauper and Bananarama too. And not only that but when we became known at school, I had my "fans" also, one in particular was named Maritza and I always remember her because she was always next to me when Thilvenetssiee was not with me.
Through all that, I still went to the gym and trained because I was known as the boxer who sang. In essence I was the only male in a "girl band." But my parents saw that the hospital in Cayey was not very good and decided without telling me that we had to return to Caguas. And one weekend we returned. I wanted, cause of what I just told you about the girl and our band, to go back to school in Cayey, but I couldn't because the government wasn't going to allow me anyway because I now lived in another city. There I rejoined again with my friends and soul mates from Caguas ,and I also liked a girl named Leila.
Then I got into the Ebenezer United Methodist Church, where I was in the adult choir at 14 years old, I also continued with boxing but one day, the night before the fight between Marvelous Marvin Hagler and Sugar Ray Leonard, I had a dream where I died in a boxing match and took it as an omen and decided not to continue with that idea of becoming a boxer. I met a girl named Loyda, and other friends, I started to hang out with a clique of teen friends, I had a great time but something else very important also took place: I fell in love with a girl named Angie. At that time I wasn't used to girls telling me they didn't love me, but when I asked her out, she told me she didn't want to be my girlfriend. that happened on May 20, 1989. My friend Victor must remember because he knew how in love I was and that night I remember Victor phoned me at my home from his, to console me. Then I began to experience depression, I wanted to kill myself, I wanted to commit suicide. On top of that, when my pastor found out that I had begun to visit Angie's church, he told me to continue going to her church and I felt that he had basically told me to stop going to mine (his). I was so desperate that I went and sought medical help from my school psychologist, and the psychologist invited me to his home for a "private session."
Luckily, I did not go because it felt weird, and I knew more or less what he meant, and a month later I found out through the janitor of the school, that the doctor was fired because he had said similar things to other young people at school. Imagine that! But also, during that era, my friends and I were planning to form another band and we even used to go to town to take theater, singing, and dance classes, and because of that and also because of the conversations I had with my parents, with my friends and with my aunt Lourdes who one day grabbed me by my arm and told me "do not do what I would not do" and also because God was with me, I still had hopes and so I survived depression. But nevertheless, there was still that doubt that I had, that unresolved issue: inside myself I had this female voice. I saw myself and felt like Madonna or Molly Ringwald and I did not understand why.
Playing basketball, I saw myself as a girl. Kissing girls, it was the same. Boxing, it was the same. In church praying, hanging with my buddies, singing, it was always the same. In April 1990, we boarded a plane and moved to the United States. I wanted to become an entertainer at that time. When I arrived in the United States, I realized that I also liked boys. I still didn't know that in Puerto Rico, so I was shocked for quite some time. Here I tried to enter the Marines and I went to be sent but when they realized that I have Diabetes when they did my medical, they disqualified me, But I tried at least, and worked as an ice cream salesperson, in the hope of being able to pay my entrance to some talent agency which I achieved after many years.
I was about to marry a girl I met one day when, leaving her house, she ran to me and kissed me and there we met; two weeks later we were in court for the court wedding, but we decided not to do it and we ran out of there. She was a witch, she liked black magic and that and I got into that lifestyle even though I was still a Christian and I was never fully involved in it like her. She was Gothic and I got into the Gothic style too. From then on came the parties, the clubs, the "crazy life". I also found another church here where I started to go but I got into trouble with the pastor because of one spefific rule I disagreed with in that church. The thing is that I was in a group of more or less 20 or 30 different characters: we always went everywhere together and, besides that, I was already in a well-known talent agency working as a model.
But that agency passed into the hands of a group people which some of the other models told me were not reliable and all the models I knew, including me, said goodbye to them and that was that. At that time I had a girlfriend a very beautiful black girl by the way but I wanted to continue in my wild ways and living the crazy life.
A lifetime of meeting famous people such as several ex-Menudo, Wilfredo Gomez, Michael Jordan, Sunset Thomas, Pamela Anderson, Sylvester Stallone, Ringo Starr, two former presidents of the United States and even Princess Anne of England. Of fist fights wherever they found me, of casinos, hotels, of addiction. And another thing: not only did I know I was bisexual but also something else: transgender. I told my sister Nilda a week at the end of 1996, while still dating my fiancée. On a cold December night. (I remember they were showing a soap opera with the beautiful Mexican actress Lucero and when I told her at that time I felt very much like "Lucero" hahaha) By 1999, I asked my doctor to do an operation to change sex, but he denied it based on my Diabetes condition. I continued to play basketball every week, organizing another musical group that I had for a short time here, and leading my crazy life. Until one day I was about to do something crazy against a private property and, after that, the group I hung out with gave me an ultimatum: either I would change or my hanging out with them would end.
I went through rehabilitation, I began to behave better, but little by little that era came to an end. I returned to church but because things that happen in life, I had to move to a house where the church where I live at now is somewhat far away and then, covid also came, and I do not like to go out where there are a lot of people so much. I am still transgender, but recently one of my other aunts (Aunt Raquel and her husband Joe Gomez) spoke to me and now every day I ask God to forgive me for everything I did, for who I am and have been.And the reason why I am writing this here today is not to brag, I am neither proud nor ashamed of my life but there are many people who do not know a quarter of it and someone told me today to talk about it and encouraged me to tell you about it so that everyone knows, but they also said to speak with the truth and talk openly.
Those from Caguas do not know what happened in Cayey, many my family did not know about my time with depression, and neither those of Caguas nor most of my family and friends knew about my transgenderism and that I even own a couple of dressees. Nor about my love history or anything like that. It's time to get courageous and tell the whole truth. Whoever told me to write this, told me to tell the whole truth. And here it is.
I have bounced from one wall to the other, I had love affairs with men and women, (although now I am heterosexual again- I like only girls) I have been popular and I have been ignored, brave and cowardly, and yes I have also been both a man and a woman in spirit, I have been an angel and a demon, healthy and sick I have lived well off and kind of poor too, sung and acted, the latter in film (Eight Legged Freaks) and theater (mostly badly). That is my life, my truth.And every night I pray to God for Him to forgive me. I hope that when it is my turn to speak with Him in eternity, my heavenly Father will forgive me. For at the end of the day I never ceased to be a Christian, to believe in Him and to love Him.
My aunt Raquel still says if I dont stop being transgender I will go to Hell. She does not understand how much this hurts to hear.
2024.05.16 08:33 pillsburyhoeboy My friend had a boner
So idk what to even say about this. I (24f) was staying at a friends house the past few days. I knew he had a crush on me in the past but I thought that was over. I got up to pack my things, we were chilling in the living room. Went back into his room for probably two minutes and as I walked back into the living room he had his hand in his pants, saw me, pulled his and out and I saw an obvious boner through his basketball shorts. Full on tent and the thing literally bounced. I have a past with sexual trauma and I just layed on the other couch and didn’t say anything for a while bc it was triggering. What do I even do about this? I left shortly after.
submitted by pillsburyhoeboy to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 07:47 AggripaDaRippa 28/M/Pennsylvania/Anywhere night owl looking for new people to chat with!
Hey there! Looking for some new people to talk to, down to chat about pretty much anything as long as you can somewhat hold a conversation haha. Not really great at writing these things so I'll just list off some of my interests and things I'm looking for.
About me:
-i like watching sports; baseball, hockey, F1, sometimes basketball.
-i love video games, I play mostly on my PC, but I also have a PS5 and a switch. Right now I'm mostly playing dota 2 and r6 siege, but I have and play a lot of other stuff too.
-I have two cats that I love to death, totally down to show you how cute they are!
I love movies, I have a pretty large physical movie collection of blu rays and 4ks, I especially love horror but I'll watch most genres.
-I also enjoy music a lot, mostly metal, but also pop punk, pop, rap, country, and some other random stuff too. I've been to A LOT of concerts over the past 10 years but haven't been to many recently.
-im pretty introverted, I work a lot and when I'm not working I like to pretty much stay in and relax for the most part.
-i work night shift, i I have a pretty unorthodox schedule and sleep during the day and I'm up all night haha
I have 6 tattoos!
I don't smoke or drink, I don't really mind or care if you do though!
Physically im 6 foot tall hazel eyes with glasses and short brown hair. Medium build, a bit of a dad bod.
That's pretty much it, I'm sure there's a lot more I could include but I'll save that for later. Now here's some things I'm looking for!
What I'm looking for:
-someone who can somewhat hold a conversation and is actually interested in getting to know each other
-down to share selfies and possibly down to voice chat in the near future
down to switch to another platform, I don't really want to use the chat feature on here, sorry.
-open to the possibility of something flirty, and or just friendship. I'm not strictly looking for friendship only.
That's mostly it I think. Shoot me a message with a little about yourself if you're interested
submitted by AggripaDaRippa to Needafriend [link] [comments]
About me:
-i like watching sports; baseball, hockey, F1, sometimes basketball.
-i love video games, I play mostly on my PC, but I also have a PS5 and a switch. Right now I'm mostly playing dota 2 and r6 siege, but I have and play a lot of other stuff too.
-I have two cats that I love to death, totally down to show you how cute they are!
I love movies, I have a pretty large physical movie collection of blu rays and 4ks, I especially love horror but I'll watch most genres.
-I also enjoy music a lot, mostly metal, but also pop punk, pop, rap, country, and some other random stuff too. I've been to A LOT of concerts over the past 10 years but haven't been to many recently.
-im pretty introverted, I work a lot and when I'm not working I like to pretty much stay in and relax for the most part.
-i work night shift, i I have a pretty unorthodox schedule and sleep during the day and I'm up all night haha
I have 6 tattoos!
I don't smoke or drink, I don't really mind or care if you do though!
Physically im 6 foot tall hazel eyes with glasses and short brown hair. Medium build, a bit of a dad bod.
That's pretty much it, I'm sure there's a lot more I could include but I'll save that for later. Now here's some things I'm looking for!
What I'm looking for:
-someone who can somewhat hold a conversation and is actually interested in getting to know each other
-down to share selfies and possibly down to voice chat in the near future
down to switch to another platform, I don't really want to use the chat feature on here, sorry.
-open to the possibility of something flirty, and or just friendship. I'm not strictly looking for friendship only.
That's mostly it I think. Shoot me a message with a little about yourself if you're interested
2024.05.16 07:46 AggripaDaRippa 28/M/Pennsylvania/Anywhere night owl looking for new people to chat with!
Hey there! Looking for some new people to talk to, down to chat about pretty much anything as long as you can somewhat hold a conversation haha. Not really great at writing these things so I'll just list off some of my interests and things I'm looking for.
About me:
-i like watching sports; baseball, hockey, F1, sometimes basketball.
-i love video games, I play mostly on my PC, but I also have a PS5 and a switch. Right now I'm mostly playing dota 2 and r6 siege, but I have and play a lot of other stuff too.
-I have two cats that I love to death, totally down to show you how cute they are!
I love movies, I have a pretty large physical movie collection of blu rays and 4ks, I especially love horror but I'll watch most genres.
-I also enjoy music a lot, mostly metal, but also pop punk, pop, rap, country, and some other random stuff too. I've been to A LOT of concerts over the past 10 years but haven't been to many recently.
-im pretty introverted, I work a lot and when I'm not working I like to pretty much stay in and relax for the most part.
-i work night shift, i I have a pretty unorthodox schedule and sleep during the day and I'm up all night haha
I have 6 tattoos!
I don't smoke or drink, I don't really mind or care if you do though!
Physically im 6 foot tall hazel eyes with glasses and short brown hair. Medium build, a bit of a dad bod.
That's pretty much it, I'm sure there's a lot more I could include but I'll save that for later. Now here's some things I'm looking for!
What I'm looking for:
-someone who can somewhat hold a conversation and is actually interested in getting to know each other
-down to share selfies and possibly down to voice chat in the near future
down to switch to another platform, I don't really want to use the chat feature on here, sorry.
-open to the possibility of something flirty, and or just friendship. I'm not strictly looking for friendship only.
That's mostly it I think. Shoot me a message with a little about yourself if you're interested
submitted by AggripaDaRippa to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]
About me:
-i like watching sports; baseball, hockey, F1, sometimes basketball.
-i love video games, I play mostly on my PC, but I also have a PS5 and a switch. Right now I'm mostly playing dota 2 and r6 siege, but I have and play a lot of other stuff too.
-I have two cats that I love to death, totally down to show you how cute they are!
I love movies, I have a pretty large physical movie collection of blu rays and 4ks, I especially love horror but I'll watch most genres.
-I also enjoy music a lot, mostly metal, but also pop punk, pop, rap, country, and some other random stuff too. I've been to A LOT of concerts over the past 10 years but haven't been to many recently.
-im pretty introverted, I work a lot and when I'm not working I like to pretty much stay in and relax for the most part.
-i work night shift, i I have a pretty unorthodox schedule and sleep during the day and I'm up all night haha
I have 6 tattoos!
I don't smoke or drink, I don't really mind or care if you do though!
Physically im 6 foot tall hazel eyes with glasses and short brown hair. Medium build, a bit of a dad bod.
That's pretty much it, I'm sure there's a lot more I could include but I'll save that for later. Now here's some things I'm looking for!
What I'm looking for:
-someone who can somewhat hold a conversation and is actually interested in getting to know each other
-down to share selfies and possibly down to voice chat in the near future
down to switch to another platform, I don't really want to use the chat feature on here, sorry.
-open to the possibility of something flirty, and or just friendship. I'm not strictly looking for friendship only.
That's mostly it I think. Shoot me a message with a little about yourself if you're interested
2024.05.16 04:52 Strange_Internal_923 Successful Surgery
You guys might remember my post last week. The surgery happened on Tuesday as planned, and it went wonderfully.
I was very nervous, in particular because I have high blood pressure, and didn’t know that I needed to have been off nicotine (I was vaping until two days before surgery). I did some googling on Monday, and saw that lots of surgeons and anesthesiologists would refuse surgery on people who have used nicotine in the last 2 months, and high blood pressure made complications way more likely.
Turns out, they didn’t care a bit, and the surgery happened as planned!
The last thing I remember was being very very anxious as I was wheeled into the OR, and the anesthesiologist giving me a heavy dose of a benzo. This stopped my brain from making any further memories, so I don’t remember counting down until the general anesthetic hit.
I woke up, was told there were no complications besides my blood pressure dropping too low requiring adrenaline infusions at two instances.
My surgeon successfully released my impinged nerves by doing laminotomjes at L4-5 and L5-S1, and removing the herniated portion of my L5-S1 disk. The herniation above it wasn’t removed, but the nerve was freed thanks to the laminotomy.
There’s quite a bit of tightness around the surgical site, it was a 3-4 inch incision. That’s the only pain I have. I had some hypersensitivity on the bottom of my foot which I confused for numbness for a few hours until I realized that I was actually feeling so much more than I was before.
I have very little sciatica pain. There’s been some hardly noticeable 1/10 pain, likely from the bulging disk at my L3-4 level, which is only noticeable now that the other pain has disappeared. It is almost imperceptible and only shows in rare positions or angles. The surgical site pain has not crossed 4/10.
I stood and walked around my house the entire rest of the night, I was up for 5-6 hours moving around, cooking, talking with my family, only occasionally sitting. It’s really a miracle.
The surgical site isn’t itchy, and only seems to be painful in the sense that the muscles are tightening and spasming. Muscle relaxers fix this and the narcotics make it disappear.
I couldn’t be happier. I have gone from 24/7 pain which never dropped below 7 out of 10, to no pain at all. The surgical site pain seems to be subsiding by the hour.
One thing I think is worth mentioning for others considering a surgery like this - I haven’t returned to my pre-injury normal in terms of mobility because I feel my muscles in the affected leg have atrophied, and the compensating gait that I’ve used with the pain over the last 6 months seems to have made my gait slightly asymmetrical. So I’ve been going on short walks and already notice it evening out.
submitted by Strange_Internal_923 to Microdiscectomy [link] [comments]
I was very nervous, in particular because I have high blood pressure, and didn’t know that I needed to have been off nicotine (I was vaping until two days before surgery). I did some googling on Monday, and saw that lots of surgeons and anesthesiologists would refuse surgery on people who have used nicotine in the last 2 months, and high blood pressure made complications way more likely.
Turns out, they didn’t care a bit, and the surgery happened as planned!
The last thing I remember was being very very anxious as I was wheeled into the OR, and the anesthesiologist giving me a heavy dose of a benzo. This stopped my brain from making any further memories, so I don’t remember counting down until the general anesthetic hit.
I woke up, was told there were no complications besides my blood pressure dropping too low requiring adrenaline infusions at two instances.
My surgeon successfully released my impinged nerves by doing laminotomjes at L4-5 and L5-S1, and removing the herniated portion of my L5-S1 disk. The herniation above it wasn’t removed, but the nerve was freed thanks to the laminotomy.
There’s quite a bit of tightness around the surgical site, it was a 3-4 inch incision. That’s the only pain I have. I had some hypersensitivity on the bottom of my foot which I confused for numbness for a few hours until I realized that I was actually feeling so much more than I was before.
I have very little sciatica pain. There’s been some hardly noticeable 1/10 pain, likely from the bulging disk at my L3-4 level, which is only noticeable now that the other pain has disappeared. It is almost imperceptible and only shows in rare positions or angles. The surgical site pain has not crossed 4/10.
I stood and walked around my house the entire rest of the night, I was up for 5-6 hours moving around, cooking, talking with my family, only occasionally sitting. It’s really a miracle.
The surgical site isn’t itchy, and only seems to be painful in the sense that the muscles are tightening and spasming. Muscle relaxers fix this and the narcotics make it disappear.
I couldn’t be happier. I have gone from 24/7 pain which never dropped below 7 out of 10, to no pain at all. The surgical site pain seems to be subsiding by the hour.
One thing I think is worth mentioning for others considering a surgery like this - I haven’t returned to my pre-injury normal in terms of mobility because I feel my muscles in the affected leg have atrophied, and the compensating gait that I’ve used with the pain over the last 6 months seems to have made my gait slightly asymmetrical. So I’ve been going on short walks and already notice it evening out.
2024.05.16 03:39 protagonist52 Boston Celtics Playoff Post 20240515
 | ☘️ Celtics 113 🛡️ Cavaliers 98 submitted by protagonist52 to u/protagonist52 [link] [comments] PlayoffBasketball2024 🏀 is moving along for the Boston Celtics ☘️ and the C's punched their ticket to the ECF☘️ ❄️ ✨ ✨ ✨ ✨🥉🦅 #JaysonTATUM led the way with 25-10-9 ☘️ 💥✨ ✨ Jaylen BROWN only dropped 11 on the short handed Cavs because Al Horford turned back the clock with 22 ☘️ CLE 1️⃣ BOS 4️⃣Can Boston make it back to the NBA Finals led by the Jays [Tatum & Brown]? Let’s discuss it in the comments section below👇🏽 . . ~~~ Double tap if you agree ☘️🏀 Tag 👥 Share 📲 Comment ✍🏽 Turn on post notifications 🔊 SuPORTSKevtheMATHMAgiciaN~~~ . 📸 Photo appears courtesy of Akron Beacon Journal .CelticsWin #BleedGreen #CelticsNation #BostonCeltics #BostonCelticsBasketball #BostonCelticsFan #BostonCelticsLove #BostonCelticsNation #CelticsFan #CelticsLove #CelticsNation #PlayoffBasketball #NBAFinals #RoadToBanner18 #AlHorford42 |
2024.05.16 01:32 Current_Plenty_116 How to stop shooting the ball right/ on the upper backboard?
When I shoot the basketball my hands always appear in this weird position where my wrist from my shooting hand and my guide hand go into this weird criss cost or x position and I want to learn how to stop it. Everything else is good but my hand going that x route messes up my shots and I see that the ball always spins in this sort of toilet route before bricking. If not that then I miss the hoop and hit the right side of the back hoop where it just bounces off. How can I fix this? Where should my hand placement be on the ball to prevent this because whatever I do nothing works and it makes me constantly miss short/shots I would be able to make if that didn’t occur.
submitted by Current_Plenty_116 to BasketballTips [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 00:00 EmotionalBroccoli394 Where’s my favorite soda?!
I forgot I have a story for here! Many years ago I stopped at a Wally-world on my way home from the gym to do my weekly grocery shopping. Let me just set the scene for you. It’s around 10am in the middle of an Arizona summer. I was looking a little rough because I had gone to the gym that morning before grocery shopping, think hair in a super messy bun, basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt, and I was very obviously wearing headphones, grocery list in hand and a shopping cart in front of me.
An elderly gentleman (using that term very gently) started yelling at me and I only noticed because I looked to the side and saw him staring at me and talking in what looked like an agitated way. Popped my headphones off and asked him what he had said and he got even more annoyed I can only guess and he started yelling at me about how could I stop stocking his favorite soda and it’s just not right. I was so confused and couldn’t figure out what part of my attire screamed I work here. I replied as such to him, “sorry sir, I don’t work here so you you’d have to take that up with someone that does” that didn’t really help because he repeated himself again and I again replied that I didn’t work there. I think he finally took in my gym clothes and overall unkempt and sweaty look about me and muttered something as he walked away. Not the first or last time I’ve had something like that happen. But probably the funniest.
submitted by EmotionalBroccoli394 to IDontWorkHereLady [link] [comments]
An elderly gentleman (using that term very gently) started yelling at me and I only noticed because I looked to the side and saw him staring at me and talking in what looked like an agitated way. Popped my headphones off and asked him what he had said and he got even more annoyed I can only guess and he started yelling at me about how could I stop stocking his favorite soda and it’s just not right. I was so confused and couldn’t figure out what part of my attire screamed I work here. I replied as such to him, “sorry sir, I don’t work here so you you’d have to take that up with someone that does” that didn’t really help because he repeated himself again and I again replied that I didn’t work there. I think he finally took in my gym clothes and overall unkempt and sweaty look about me and muttered something as he walked away. Not the first or last time I’ve had something like that happen. But probably the funniest.
2024.05.15 23:51 lightscamerasnaction Delta in-flight movies [March 2024]
I tried to write down every single movie available on my flights in March 2024. I handwrote some of my notes to pass the 13 hours which is why there are ??? when I couldn't read my own writing/abbreviations. Note that not all titles were available on all flights, and my list is missing a chunk of them (especially titles beginning with "S" for some reason). Hope someone finds it useful! Maybe someone will get to creating a Letterboxd list of them all before me! [Posted this in movies and thought delta users might find it useful too]
submitted by lightscamerasnaction to delta [link] [comments]
10 Things I Hate About You
101 Dalmatians
12 Angry Men
13 Going on 30
17 Again
2001: A Space Odyssey
27 Dresses
500 Days of Summer
80 for Brady
A Beautiful Mind
A Bug's Life
A Cinderella Story
A Compassionate Spy
A Fantastic Woman
A Few Good Men
A Good Year
A Haunting in Venice
A League of Their Own
A Room with a View
A Separation
A Simple Plan
A Simple Wish
A.I. Artificial Intelligence
Abominable
Adam's Rib
Airheads
Akeelah and the Bee
Aladdin
Alice Through the Looking Glass
Alvin and the Chipmunks
Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked
American Graffiti
American Street Kid
Amores Perros
An Inconvenient Truth
Anatomy of a Fall
Angels in the Outfield
Aquaman
Assassin Club
Asteroid City
Avatar: Way of Water
Avengers: Infinity War
Back to the Future
Bad Company
Barb and Star: Vista del Mar
Barbie
Batman
Batman Begins
Batman Returns
Batman vs. Superman Dawn
Battle of the Sexes
Beauty and the Beast
Beetlejuice
Being Mary Tyler Moore
Bend it Like Beckham
Better Luck Tomorrow
Big
Big George Foreman
Billy Elliott
Birds of Prey: Harley Quinn
Birthright Outlaw
Blackberry
Blade
Blade II
Blade Runner 2049
Blade Trinity
Blended
Blinded by the Light
Blue Beetle
Bolt
Bottoms
Brave
Brazil
Bridesmaids
Bridget Jones' Diary
Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason
Bring It On
Brown Sugar
Buoyancy
But I'm a Cheerleader
Call Me by Your Name
Carmen Jones
Central Intelligence
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
Cheaper by the Dozen
Chevalier
Chicken Run
Child's Play
Children of a Lesser God
Chinatown
Cinderella
Clifford the Big Red Dog
Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs
Clueless
Colossal
Condor's Nest
Cool Hand Luke
Coraline
Couples Retreat
Crazy Rich Asians
Crazy Stupid Love
Creed
Creed II
Crooklyn
Cruella
Chr. G
Dark Waters
Darkest Hour
Dawnland
Dazed and Confused
DC: League of Super Pets
Dear White People
Dee. Boys
Delivery Man
Desperately Seeking Susan
Despicable Me
Despicable Me 2
Despicable Me 3
Diary of a Wimpy Kid
Dret ard
Dr. Doolittle
Down with Love
Dr. Seuss Horton Hears a Who
Dr. Seuss The Grinch
Dr. Grinch The Lorax
Dreamgirls
Drop Dead Gorgeous
Drumline
Due Date
Dumb and Dumber
Dumb Money
Dune
Dunkirk
E.T.
Edge of Tomorrow
Eggs Over Easy
Elemental
Enter the Dragon
E????
Erin Brockovich
Eternals
Evan Almighty
Everest
Everything Everywhere All at Once
Evil Dead Rises
Expendables 4
F9: Fast Saga
Fallen
Fantastic Beasts
Fantastic Beasts: Crimes of Grindewald
Fantastic Beasts: Secrets of Dumbledore
Fargo
F&F: Hobbes and Shaw
Fast X
Father of the Bride
Feramana???
Ferner????
Field of Dreams
Finding Dory
Finding Nemo
First Man
Focus
Following
Fools Rush In
Forrest Gump
Freaky
Freaky Friday
Freelance
Frida
Friday
Frozen 2
Frozen River
Game Night
Gangster Squad
Garfield
Garfield: Tail of 2 Kitties
Get Smart
Ghostbusters
Glass
Glory
Godzilla vs Kong
Going in Style
Good Morning Vietnam
Gosford Park
Grand Torino
Gran Turismo
Gravity
Grease
Grease 2
Gremlins
Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 3
Guy Richie's The Covenant
Hacksaw Ridge
Half Nelson
Hanna
Happy Death Day
Happy Feet 2
Harlan County USA
Harold and Kumar: White Castle
Harry Potter 1-8
Haunted Mansion
He's Just Not That Into You
Her
Hereafter
Hocus Pocus
Honor Society
Horrible Bosses
Hotel Transylvania
House Party
How to Be Single
How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days
How to Train your Dragon
Hypnotic
I Am Legend
I Didn't See You There
I, Tonya
Ice Age: Collision Course
Ice Age: Continental Drift
Ice Age: Dawn of Dinosaurs
Ice Age: Meltdown
Ice on Fire
If Beale Street Could Talk
In the Heart of the Sea
In the Heights
In the Name of the Father
Inception
Incredibles 2
Indiana Jones: Dial of Destiny
Indiana Jones: Temple of Doom
Insidious: The Red Door
Insomnia
Instructions not INcluded
It
Jerry & Marge Go Large
Jersey Boys
John Wick
John Wick 2
John Wick 3
Joker
Jonah: A VeggieTales Movie
Journey to the Center of the Earth
Judas and the Black Messiah
Jules
Jumanji
Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle
Jurassic Park
Jurassic World
Just Married
Just my Luck
Kazaam
Kit Kittredge
Kramer vs Kramer
Kubo and the Two Strings
Kung Fu Panda
Kung Fu Panda 2
Kung Fu??????
La La Land
Labyrinth
Lady in the Water
Lakota Nation vs United States
Legally Blonde
Liar Liar
Life of the Party
Lightyear
Lilo and Stitch
Lion
Little Women
Living
Lo------
Lone Survivor
Love and Basketball
Love Again
Love Jones
Ma-d_____ ?
Madagascar
Madagascar Escape
Made of Honor
Mafia Mamma
Magic Mike's Last Dance
Malt------
Momma's Boy
Mamma Mia
Mamma Mia Here We Go Again
March of the Penguins
Mat------
Mean Girls
Meet the Parents?
Memento
Michael Clayton
Milk
Minions
Minions: Rise of Gru
Misery
Miss Congeniality
Missing Link
Mission Impossible Dead Reckoning
Mississippi Masala
Moana
Monster In Law
Monsters Inc
Monsters University
Moonlight
Mortal Enemies
Mr. Malcolm's List
Mulan
Mummies
Murder by Numbers
Murder on the Orient Express
Muriel's Wedding
My Animal
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
My Family
My Girl
National Lampoon's Vacation
Neighbors 2
Neruda
New Year's Eve
News of the World
Nights in Rodanthe
Nine Queens
No
No Country for Old Men
No Murches Frida??
Nomadland
Notting Hill
Ocean's 8
Ocean's 13
October Sky
Of tn age??
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood
Onward
Oppenheimer
Origin
Over the Hedge
Pacific Rim
Pandas
Pan's Labyrinth
ParaNorman
Paris is Burning
Past Lives
Paw Patrol: Mighty
Paw Patrol: More
Pee Wee's Big Adventure
Perfect Strangers
Persepolis
Phantom Thread
Pinball: The Man Who Saved the Game
Pitch Perfect
Pitch Perfect 3
Planes
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
Pokemon: Detective Pikachu
Practical Magic
Pride and Prejudice
Primal Fear
Priscilla
Psycho
Pulp Fiction
Puppy Love
Puss in Boots
Queen and Slim
Radical
RRadi--- Wwi?/
Raging Bull
Ra the Breata?
Rat Race?
Ratatouille
Ready Player One
Real Women Have Curves
Red Tails
Reforge
Renfield
Repo Man
Rocky
Ruby Gillman
Rumor Has It
Rush Hour 2
RV
Róise & Frank
Sacfint??
Saving Face
Saving Private Ryan
School Daze
Scoob!
Scooby Doo
Scrapper
Scream VI
Searching
Selena
Selma
Semi Pro
Seven
Shaft
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
?
Significant Other
?
?
Skyfall
Smallfoot
Smoke?
Snowpiercer
?
Something's Gotta Give
?
?
Soul Surfer
Space Jam
Space Oddity
Sp Ra ????
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
Spider-Man: Homecoming
Spider-Man Into the Spider-Verse
Split
Spy Game?
Spy Kids
Stone and D????
Ste W s5t?
Stomp the Yard
Storks
Sweet Home Alabama
Tag
Talk to Me
Tangled
Tee as Go!??
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Tenet
The Adia Prse?
The Angry Black Girl and Her Monster
The Baby-Sitters Club
The Best Man
The Big Lebowski
The Big Short
The Biggest Little Farm
The Bird Cage
The Blind Side
The Blues Brothers
The Bodyguard
The Boogeyman
The Book of Life
The Boss Baby: Family Business
The Bourne Identity
The Boxer
The Breakfast Club
The Bucket List
The Caine Mutiny
The Campaign
The Castle
The Chronicles of Narnia
The Chronicles of Narnia 2
The Chronicles of Narnia 3
The Creator
The Croods New Age
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
The Dark Knight Rises
The Dark Side
The Dead Don't Die
The Dry?
The Equalizer
The Exorcist: Believer
The Fabulous Filipino Brothers
The Fast and Furious (#1)
The S Heartbeats?
The Has???
The Gentlemen
The Good Nurse
The Goonies
The Great Wall
The Guard
The Harvest (La Cosecha)
The H????
The Hobbit
The Hobbit 2
The Hobbit 3
The Holdovers
The Hunger Games: Ballad of Snakes and Songbirds
The Hunger Games
The Hunger Games 2
The Hunger Games 3
The Hunger Games 4
The Hunt for Red October
The Huntsman: Winter’s War
The Incredibles
The Intern
The Invention of Lying
The Iron Giant
The Island
The Jungle Book
The Karate Kid
The Kids are Alright
The Lake House
The Land Before Time
The Last Out
The Last Samurai
The Lego Batman Movie
The Lego Movie
The Lesson
The Lion King
The Lion King
The Little Mermaid
The Little Mermaid
The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship
The Losers
The Man from UNCLE
The Marsh King’s Doughter
The Marvels
The Matrix: Resurrections
The Mitchells vs The Machines
The Mummy
The Neverending Story
The Nice Guys
The Nun II
The Odd Life of Timothy Green
The Other Zoey
The Outsiders
The Peanuts Movie
The Persian Version
The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything
The Place Beyond the Pines
The Popes Exorcist
The Pre--?
The Purge: Election Year
The Replacements
The Ring
The Secret Garden
The Secret Life of Pets
The Silence of the Lambs
The S --------
The ?
The ?
The ?
The ?
The ?
The Take
The Time Traveler's Wife
The True Cost
The Umbrellas of Cherbourg
The Un---- Country
The Usual Suspects
The ???
The ????
The ?????
The Wedding Singer
The Wizard of Oz
The Wood
The Zookeeper's Wife
Theater Camp
Them---?
There Will Be Blood
Thurs?
Titanic
To Kill a Mockingbird
Tooooo?
Tom ??
Tommy Boy
Top Gun
Top Gun: Maverick
Toy Story 2
Toy Story 3
Toy Story 4
Train to Busan
Training Day
Transformers Rise
Trolls
Trolls World Tour
Troy
Tully
Turning Red
Umami
Us
??
V for Vendetta
V????
VeggieTales: Abe and the Amazing Promise
VeggieTales: Merry Larry and the True Light of Christmas
Vindicta
Vivo
Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit
War Dogs
We Were Soldiers
We're the Millers
Wedding Crashers
West Side Story
Wet Hot American Summer
Where the Wild Things Are
Wildhood
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
Winters Bone
Wonder
Wonder Woman 1984
Wonka
Wreck It Ralph
Yes, Man
Yesterday
Young Punx: A Punk Parable
Zombieland
2024.05.15 23:50 Super_Season_811 AITA for moving out when I turned 18?
I, (18F) moved in with my boyfriend (19M) a couple of months after I turned 18, and my parents were furious and hurt. There’s a lot to unpack with this one, so bear with me.
My parents (40F and 42M) are very religious and were somewhat strict while I was growing up. I have two younger brothers, one 17 and one 8 (this will be important later). For context, my father is a pastor at a local church and my parent’s religious beliefs are the reasoning behind most if not all of their actions. Growing up, I was never a stereotypical girl. I didn’t have many female friends and was usually not accepted in groups with guys as I was a girl and we were kids. I was extroverted as a child but due to being repeatedly rejected by kids my age, I became more introverted. I was a major nerd who loved superheroes and I wanted to play sports. Again, for context, the town I grew up in was very conservative and my parents are very conservative themselves. Girls liked girl things- even if they claimed that’s not how they felt, it’s how they acted. However, as a kid, I did not realize this. I played soccer and basketball growing up, regardless of how “weird” it made me because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I was probably around 9 or 10 at this point. It was around this time my parents started having issues with my hobbies. I remember my parents trying to convince me to be a cheerleader because I would “like it more,” but I insisted on playing basketball. (This basketball/cheer program was through our church by the way). Because I was still young, they let it slide, but to this day I remember them being annoyed with it. This is also around the time dieting was introduced to me as well as calorie counting. I have always struggled with my weight and so has my mother, so they were very adamant on making sure I was being “healthy.” I didn’t understand it, but as a child, the only thing I was worried about was making my parents happy. A lot of discipline I received revolved around emotion. What I was doing was right or wrong and if I did something wrong, I felt terrible and awful and would often come crying to my parents about the mistakes I made, fearful of their disappointment and anger if they found things out themselves. They also made everything a moral dilemma- everything was about God and religion and as a kid, it really messed with my head. I would blame myself for everything that went wrong, seeing it as God’s punishment for my behavior. When I was 9, I went so far as to blame my grandmother’s death on myself because I was hanging out with boys instead of girls. This made me to be more of an introvert and my now anxiety disorder is much much worse.
About a year later, my parents sat down with me and my brother and told us they wanted to adopt. At first, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having another brother or sister. And I wouldn’t trade my 8 year old brother (let’s call him Scott) for anything, but adopting kids is part of what triggered a huge change in my parent’s behavior. Also- I had started getting older. I loved playing video games, watching cartoons and writing. However, these weren’t the things they wanted me to like I guess, because I started to feel their judgment become more clear and apparent as I got older. Now, I assume this is because as a kid, I just did what I was told, or my oddities were assumed to fade over time, but that is not the case anymore. Anyways, entering middle school, our family fostered a little girl, let’s call her Ally. A young woman in our church had told us that Ally’s family was out of the picture, and as her aunt, she couldn’t take her in as she was already a single mom and planned on adopting her brother, but couldn’t handle all three alone. So my family stepped in- however, we had come to find that her father was still in the picture and was actively fighting for custody. And Ally was a bit of a handful. My parents have admitted that they expected to swoop in, save a child from a hard life and be the heroes, and when things were harder than that they were very upset. Ally was about three- she remembered her mom (who was in jail i believe), her sisters, her grandma and grandpa, as well as her dad. She didn’t want our family, she wanted hers. She didn’t listen to my parents and rejected their parenting. This is what started to make my parents snap. I understand it was hard for them, but now that I’m older, I get it. She was a little girl who wanted her family. But they took her rejection very seriously and were constantly unhappy with her and made sure she knew it. Children not listening immediately was newer to them as my brother and I both did pretty much whatever they asked, and they did not take well to being told “no” by a child. 8 months after living with Ally, she was taken in by her grandparents to live with them and her sisters. The next day, my parents took my brother and I on a small trip. I’m not sure if it was to cheer us up or to celebrate. I was quite sad though- I had started to really care about Ally and had convinced myself that “God would take care of things” and I would have a sister. But I was angry- God took someone away from me and I was doing everything right. Why was he punishing me? Nothing made sense. Yet, only a year later, my parents were considering taking in another child. I wanted nothing to do with it- God had already taken one sibling away from me. I couldn’t do it again. In the end, I agreed and soon became attached to this little boy, who was two when we met him. This was Scott. I immediately became attached- and I love this kid more than I can describe- he’s my little brother and I would do anything for him.
This is where things start to go further downhill. Scott has a lot of trauma and mental issues, one of those issues being oppositional defiant disorder. That basically means that listening to any form of authority is near impossible for him, and causes him to lash out and act younger than he is. This is probably due to a number of reasons, as he was severely neglected and abused as an infant and his birth mother was on several different substances while pregnant with him, to the point where he was born high on several illegal drugs. He was left in a car seat for most of his infant life, so the back of his head is slightly flattened due to this. My parents are very obedient/disciplined-based parents, so his behavior rocked their world. In my opinion, the way they handled things with Scott was borderline abusive. There were several occasions where he would say he hated them (as young children do when they're mad) and they would flip. Telling him that if he didn’t want them that was fine. They didn’t need him. He could run back to his other parents, but his mom was in jail and his dad didn’t want him, so good luck with that. If we were in the car when this happened, they would threaten to leave him on the side of the road and good luck finding his way home. Once my mother literally pulled to the side of the road, placed him outside the car and started driving so he would “think they would leave him if his actions didn’t change,” but she turned around to get him. Because they would “never actually abandon or hurt him,” their actions were justified and perfectly fine. They would tell him he was acting like a baby when he started to cry and scream. “Little baby Scott, do you need a diaper?” Is how they would tease him when he became older, which just made his tantrums worse. They would tell him how disappointed they were with him and that he should be ashamed of himself and the way he acted because they gave him everything. They would call him, to his face, “an ungrateful manipulative piece of shit.” Because according to my parents, he could control his actions 100% and was choosing to act out to make their lives difficult. While I understand that this was hard for them, in my opinion, this in no way excuses their behavior. One time, Scott was crying and was upset (who knows why, but the kid had a lot of trauma and mental issues so it didn’t bother me too much), and my mother picked him up and put him in his room. She told him that every time he tried to leave his room, she would take away one of his stuffed animals. (He had several that he loved very much). Because this sounded so terrible to him, he ran after her trying to say it wasn’t fair. So she went into his room and took a stuffed animal. This cycle continued while he cried and begged for her to stop, because he just didn’t get it that she was going to keep doing this over and over and his trying to convince her was making it worse. Eventually, there were none left, and she told him if he didn’t stop crying she was going to throw them all away. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do know that several of them were thrown away, if not at that time than others. There are many other instances of things like this and worse occurring, but we’d be here for a while if I tried to recount them all. Moving forwards to closer when I was moving out-
Now, several years later, when I turned sixteen, I had come to terms with the fact that I was bisexual. This went against everything my family was for, and I knew exactly how they viewed queer people. So, I started learning about different branches of Christianity and felt like I knew a God who loved me as I was and was happy in my decision to switch denominations. (My parents were baptists, and I wanted to be non-denominational). A few months after this, I decided to tell my parents the truth. I had done my best to give them hints, but I wanted to be honest with them because I trusted that they would love me and be there for me no matter what. When I told them I wanted to talk to them about something, they pushed and pressed and I had been trying to wait to talk to them until the next day. I had been seeing my high school counselor, and she suggested giving them a heads-up before springing that conversation up on them. However, after telling them to wait, they went through my phone and saw that I had researched different denominations and read different sermons on queer-accepting faith. They were livid. To be clear- I had a friend over while this was happening. We were watching a movie and joking about how I lost my phone and couldn’t show them this picture I wanted to. Then, I was called upstairs. I had apparently betrayed my parents and, “how could I do this to them, when I had someone over?” My father demanded I send my friend home, but my mother convinced him for one more hour. I was told not to tell my friend anything they had said and to act like things were fine, but I couldn’t. I went back downstairs where we were hanging out and started sobbing. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. Everything was over- and the people I thought would love me no matter what made me so afraid and sad, I was completely broken. My friend did their best to comfort me and even felt weary to leave me alone with my family but I told them I’d be okay, and asked that they update our friends about the situation. That night was hellish. So many conversations, them trying to understand what I felt, but not taking me particularly seriously either. That night turned into weeks of books, slideshows, conversations, and prayers. It felt like at-home conversion therapy. Eventually, I was given a choice “put my convictional flag in the ground or loose their trust.” As the petrified 16 year old, I chose to lie. I put my “flag” in the ground and did my best to, “earn back their trust” and repair their reputation that I had tarnished. The next couple months were a blur. I felt so terrible about myself. I didn’t know what I thought or believed and I became extremely hyper anxious and depressed. I had lost all sense of privacy and I did trust my parents further than I could toss them. My 17 year old brother (he was 14 at the time, let’s call him James) was 100% on board with my parents. My life felt like a living nightmare. My parents had it so that all my texts sent or received from my phone would go directly to theirs, so I couldn’t even confide in my friends without getting into trouble (which had happened and was how I found out that they did that because I deleted the texts immediately after sending/receiving things).. Everything felt like it was about me and how I needed to earn back their trust and how I was a terrible betrayer who they were not proud of in the slightest. I had gone to get a pixie cut (with their approval) and after they told me I was disgusting and repulsive and would never find a man to love me. I was heartbroken and felt so alone and unloved in my house, while I had to watch my younger brother be treated the way he was by my parents.
Luckily, I had a lot of friends and our school counselor who had been there for me through everything. They showered me with support and love and made sure I had a safe space to exist and truthfully I think they’re the only reason I didn’t do anything drastic and am still here today. It was hard though because James went to the same school as me and would tell my parents if I was with anyone he knew was queer or queer accepting. This caused me to be very very paranoid about who I was with, when, where, etc. Constantly covering my tracks, having an excuse set up and ready to bolt if I saw anyone I knew. What made things equally hard is that the church my father works at is quite big in our area. So if someone from our church or someone who knew my family saw me with anyone they labeled as “queer” or “gay,” they would tell my family as well. For the most part, I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was constantly alert and on guard, even when I was asleep as my parents had woken me up before to confront me about someone I was friends with at school.
Fortunately for me, despite everything being such a mess, I am quite academically smart. I got a job the second I turned sixteen as I had heard the horror stories of queer kids being kicked out and wanted to be prepared. I had been saving money, taking college classes (we have a state program that pays for the classes while you’re in high school), and putting on a show for my family for quite some time. After saving some money, I paid my parents for an older car that they had paid off ten or so years ago. After my brother turned 16, he claimed it was too hard to share a car with me, so while I was away visiting a friend they bought him a car and told us that they expected each of us to pay them one thousand dollars before we graduated high school and that when we did so, they would sign over our respective cars to us. To be clear, I contributed to insurance and paid for my own gas, as well as contributing to my phone bill and money for food. Meanwhile, my brother had no job, and was constantly asking my parents for money to go out with friends. He had also taken up golfing, which as most people know is extremely expensive, and my parents funded everything. James had actually admitted to asking for more money than he needed and save the leftovers for whatever he wanted. I was also expected to chauffeur him to golf events and to get togethers with his friends, and my parents would in return give me some gas money. Another thing to note is that the only reason I was contributing to our phone bill is because James wanted unlimited data and my father said it was unreasonable unless we both contributed financially. I refused as I was trying to save money (as I would have with the car situation), however things per normal went James’s way. However, because he did not have a job, he was not expected to pay anything and would not be charged for the months and years that he did not contribute to. I did my best not to let these things get to me and to keep a level head. I paid my parents for the car because I already had over two thousand dollars saved as a seventeen year old high school student due to my hard work.
I focused on my classes and joined theater to help fill the hours in between school and work. I was much more active my sophomore year but when James also decided to join theater I retreated a bit as my once safe space to freely exist was no longer safe. I joined the stage crew but honestly that was also very enjoyable and lethargic for me and I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways, I was mostly a straight A student besides the stray Bs and one or two Cs (psychology and AP government screwed me over) and was working 15 or so hours a week. This is on top of my commitments to the church which were most of my Sundays and my Wednesday evenings. The funny thing is though- James missed more church than I ever did yet because my absence was because of work and not golf, I was the one consistently reprimanded for my lack of attendance and socialization whilst I was there. Yet because James could never do anything wrong and was a very extroverted person his lack of attendance wasn’t as serious as my own. I had one close friend through our church, let’s call her Grace (now 18F) and she actually knew about everything and was very supportive of me. I also had some other friends who really only showed up to church so I didn’t have to go through the torture alone which I don’t know if I could ever repay them for. Besides the people I was comfortable with though, I was pretty much a loner there and this heavily displeased my parents as it made them look bad and messed with their reputation. I never realized how much appearances meant to them until all of the shit that happened took place. As I mentioned before, our church is very conservative and traditional, and many sermons and lessons revolved around gender roles and the sinfulness of the world in terms fo the LGBTQ community. I consistently felt targeted because of my looks and my personality and stopped feeling comfortable there a very long time ago.
Now that more context is in place, fast forward to the end of my junior year. I had at this point finished all my high school requirements for graduation and was given an incredible opportunity to go to our local college full time for my senior year. I was very excited and happy because not only did it give me more freedom but it also meant I would get more than a year of my college education paid for by the state.
It was also around this time when I met my now boyfriend, let’s call him Dean. We were coworkers and had begun to get to know each other. We had a lot in common and while were different people personality wise, we enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. By some miracle, I convinced my parents to allow me to hang out with him outside of work by claiming he was just a friend and saying that he was a Christian (which is by no means true). They were extremely skeptical but allowed us to hang out. We had an incredible time- and by the end of our first date he asked me to be his girlfriend which I happily accepted. I was so happy, but when I got home, things spiraled out of control. I told my parents about our time, and they were extremely unhappy as they felt fooled (which they were to be fair) and told me I was not allowed to see him ever again. I was devastated and they said a lot of very uncalled for things and but I understand why they were angry. To be clear, they knew I had a romantic interest in Dean and that this hangout was to see if we would be compatible partners and get to know each other better. They did not call it a date though because they weren’t comfortable with it, even if it was a date and they kinda knew it. So while they were on some level “fooled,” I feel that their anger and harshness wasn’t called for as they knew the intentions of our hanging out. The next morning my father demanded to see my phone. This is when I started to panic. You see, they had stop tracking my texts and I had openly flirted with Dean over text. Nothing that explicit and no photos of any kind. But the flirting would be enough for them to tear my world apart and I knew it. They had gone through my personal conversations before and made me feel terrible because of it and I refused to let them do it again. So I deleted everything. The entire conversation chain, I removed it from my phone 100%. My parents absolutely lost their shit. They had been manipulating and gaslighting me for years, doing anything and everything to keep their control and with my actions I showed them they couldn’t control me forever and things went very downhill. I lost all my privacy and was once again told how I had betrayed them and I was terrible and couldn’t be trusted. Again- I partially understand their anger here because I had directly disobeyed a command. But at the same time, I feel as a young woman I should be allowed some sense of privacy and the ability to talk to people without being constantly monitored. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and would happily do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I’d be where I am today. Regardless of this, my life became a living hell once again, and my parents compared this to when I came out, “which was maybe the worst night of their lives.” They stripped me of all my privileges even if I didn’t have many to begin with. They made me feel absolutely miserable and awful about myself and I was monitored like never before. I would be working and receive texts upon texts of how I was so terrible and how could I do this to them because they had done everything for me and I’m a terrible daughter who should be ashamed of myself for the deceit and malicious nature of my actions. Again- this was because they could not read the messages between me and my now boyfriend. I understand them being mad but they took it to a completely inappropriate level. I shared everything happening with my friends and counselor and they supported me and assured me I did nothing wrong and they would be there for me which helped but as my home was now a living hellscape it was hard to hear it. I found a way to tell Dean about things and at first he felt guilty but I assured him that their actions were not his fault but theirs. He then asked me if I wanted to pause our relationship but I told him honestly that they had taken so many things I cared about over the years and I refused to let them take this. I did tell him however I understood if he didn’t want to put up with all the complicatedness of my family but he told me he cared for me and would be there so long as I was okay with it. He also told me if things ever got really bad at home, regardless of the fact we had just started dating, he had spoken to his family and they offered me a place to stay if I needed/wanted it. This really touched me, but I reassured him that it was not his job to offer that, but I appreciated the offer.
This begins our relationship and we were very happy. We had found a way to communicate over email, and we were able to hide our relationship with my family. Luckily for me, over the years I had made a habit of hanging out at the park by myself so it was not strange for me to head to the park for a couple of hours. There, I would leave my car and phone (my phone had a tracker on it) and Dean and I would hangout multiple times a week and it was heaven. At this point, we’ve only been dating for a year but I can admit without any doubt that I am in love with this man and he is in love with me. During the school year, it became easier for us to hang out in between classes as we both went to the same college (I am older for my year in school and he is younger, so he was a sophomore in college while I was a senior in high school. However, we are barely a year apart in age for anyone who is concerned). However, in order for us to communicate and hang out, I had to be extremely diligent and was consistently covering my tracks while “once again, earning my parents trust and repairing our relationship.” Because of course their actions were completely justified and I was the one in the wrong, per normal. Anyways, every day, I was editing search histories, erasing messages, and looking over my shoulder. Our church had a program on campus where Dean and I went to school, so being together in public was risky as my father’s friends and coworkers were always on campus and I knew I would be screwed if we were caught together. We had a couple of close calls over the months but it was all worth it because I hadn’t been that happy in years.
Now, to the day I left and why. You see, my parents' behavior towards Scott was becoming more aggressive and worse over time. They also had, in my opinion, a drinking problem. Considering they didn’t deny it when I called them out, they may agree. They would behave more hostile after several drinks and it was happening so consistently I was constantly walking on eggshells. Between the way they treated Scott, the way they treated me and the constant stress I was under trying to balance my life in fear of the repercussions, things became too much. When things weren’t going to shit, I was consistently expected to either babysit my brother and do chores while being a full time college student and working a part time job WHILE attending church multiple times a week and keeping up with my responsibilities as a senior. This is on top of the stress my parents' behavior caused, meanwhile James was expected to do almost nothing in comparison. Don’t get me wrong- he didn’t do anything, but he had almost no responsibilities outside of school and his extracurriculars which were exclusively funded by my parents. Yes he helped with dishes during the week and would keep his space tidy. But as my schedule became much more flexible due to my school schedule, my expectations around the house became much higher than his. Even though I paid 200 a month on gas, 50 a month for insurance and 50 a month for the phone bill, and he paid nothing for his car, insurance, phone, gas, nothing. So you would think he would be expected to help in the house more but no. Also, James’s behavior towards Scott mimicked my parents and so all babysitting responsibilities fell on me as they couldn’t be trusted alone together. I was rarely if ever paid for my cleaning or babysitting services as it was my responsibility as their eldest child. They would also consistently judge me for my weight, cloths, hair, hobbies, etc. Why did I think it was a good idea to get fast food? I clearly didn’t need it. They would “outfit check me” to make sure the outfits I wore were feminine enough because the way I look effected their reputation and I couldn’t be trusted. I was not allowed to cut my hair after their tantrum over it. As for my hobbies, I stopped playing sports in middle school as I am very short (currently 5 foot even) and was unable to keep up with my peers. However my interest in video games and cartoons wasn’t feminine enough and they proceeded to compare me to my best friend Grace because she was skinnier and liked more feminine things than I did which hurt a lot. Another thing for context, I have PCOS. It’s an endocrine disorder that heavily effects your metabolism and hormones, which in turn severely effected my weight, however my parents never acknowledged it and again made everything my fault. So from what I wore, what I ate, who I hung out with and what I enjoyed doing was constantly criticized, scrutinized and eventually controlled by my family for years. On top of everything else, I was done. I was 18, I had resaved the thousand I paid my family and knew I was at a place where I didn’t need them and was tired of being treated like shit. So I left.
The night I moved out was a total shit show. I had rallied Dean and my other friend, let’s call them Rita (18NB), and they helped me form a plan. When I returned home, Dean and Rita would be on their way. I would pack everything that belonged to me or I felt they would let me take, and prep the bags outside. After Rita arrived I went to try and explain to my parents that I would be leaving and explain calmly why. In a perfect world, we would have had a long deep talk, and things would have ended alright. That is far, far from what happened. They immediately starting screaming, and took my phone and car keys as both belonged to them, which I calmly handed over. Rita was there for emotional support, and put themselves between me and my parents as they got more angry and seemed to be turning aggressive. After that, my father called the police and claimed that there was an intruder in their home trying to take their child. Yeah. Complete bullshit- which to this day I’m surprised they were never charged with falsifying a 911 call. They screamed at Rita to get out of their home and was screaming that I was throwing away everything and I needed to reconsider. I ignored them and attempted to calmly walk out, and my parents attempted to barricade the doors while harassing Rita to leave. Because Rita is incredible and one of my closest friends now, they refused to leave without me which was very calming. While my parents were distracted yelling at them, I slipped out through the garage. My mother saw this and then grabbed me, attempting to drag me inside by my arm. Rita saw this and assisted me in getting her off me, and after doing so we continued to walk towards Dean’s car where he was waiting for us. He figured it would be best if my family didn’t see him for the time being as they would definitely lose their minds at seeing his face. My parents continued screaming and then the cops arrived. They were quite confused at first because they had been sent to deal with a potential kidnapping, only to see two grown adults throwing a tantrum because their adult child didn’t want to live with them anymore. That night was honestly so insane I could write three more pages about everything they said and did. The most notable events were first when my mother tried to explain to the police that because I was her child, she was allowed to put her hands on me, which they humorously informed her was not the case. The next was when James came home from theater rehearsal, to which my parents told them that I was abandoning our family. He was an emotional wreck through all of it, and to this day has told me that until I “fix” things with our parents he is not okay with having any form of relationship with me. Throughout all of this Scott was in his room, and I was allowed to give him one last hug before leaving. The final and most notable thing, was as the cops allowed my boyfriend, Rita and I to leave, my father threatened violence towards my boyfriend and accused him of "taking advantage of his underage daughter," which is just ridiculous as we are practically the same age, and anything we had done together was consensual and reserved for after I turned 18. Another thing my parents did was go through each bag I had packed and took everything they felt belonged to them, including the laptop provided to me by my high school, which they hilariously were made to give back to me several days later as it was not theirs and they had no right to take it. They tried claiming they were giving it to me out of the kindness of their hearts, but that bullshit meant nothing as after I informed the school of their behavior, the school assured me they would be made to give it back. Another thing they threatened to do as I left was pull me out of high school, which I was assured by the police they were not capable of doing as I was 18. The police were for the most part annoyed with my parents, tired of their bs and told me I seemed to be a capable young woman and wished me the best of luck. My parents had tried to ask the police to say I was mentally unstable for the time being so I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, as their “she’s still in high school” excuse didn’t do anything. You see, as my father is an influential church figure and had friends in the police force, he thought they would be on his side but was sorely mistaken as the chief told him they wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And with that, I was free.
My boyfriend's family has been nothing but unconditionally kind and supportive and have accepted me as part of their family which has been a huge blessing in all of this. I am in contact with my father’s sister and his father, my aunt and grandpa, and as I have expressed my unhappiness at home, they are supportive of me as well. However, as my aunt lives further away and my grandpa is not in the best place to have me live with him, I have been with my boyfriend's family since I left home in October. I have a lot more I could say but I already feel like there are way too many parts here and so for now I’ll leave it at this. So yeah, AITA for moving out after I was treated like shit for years while witnessing the mistreatment of my sibling?
submitted by Super_Season_811 to narcissisticparents [link] [comments]
My parents (40F and 42M) are very religious and were somewhat strict while I was growing up. I have two younger brothers, one 17 and one 8 (this will be important later). For context, my father is a pastor at a local church and my parent’s religious beliefs are the reasoning behind most if not all of their actions. Growing up, I was never a stereotypical girl. I didn’t have many female friends and was usually not accepted in groups with guys as I was a girl and we were kids. I was extroverted as a child but due to being repeatedly rejected by kids my age, I became more introverted. I was a major nerd who loved superheroes and I wanted to play sports. Again, for context, the town I grew up in was very conservative and my parents are very conservative themselves. Girls liked girl things- even if they claimed that’s not how they felt, it’s how they acted. However, as a kid, I did not realize this. I played soccer and basketball growing up, regardless of how “weird” it made me because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. I was probably around 9 or 10 at this point. It was around this time my parents started having issues with my hobbies. I remember my parents trying to convince me to be a cheerleader because I would “like it more,” but I insisted on playing basketball. (This basketball/cheer program was through our church by the way). Because I was still young, they let it slide, but to this day I remember them being annoyed with it. This is also around the time dieting was introduced to me as well as calorie counting. I have always struggled with my weight and so has my mother, so they were very adamant on making sure I was being “healthy.” I didn’t understand it, but as a child, the only thing I was worried about was making my parents happy. A lot of discipline I received revolved around emotion. What I was doing was right or wrong and if I did something wrong, I felt terrible and awful and would often come crying to my parents about the mistakes I made, fearful of their disappointment and anger if they found things out themselves. They also made everything a moral dilemma- everything was about God and religion and as a kid, it really messed with my head. I would blame myself for everything that went wrong, seeing it as God’s punishment for my behavior. When I was 9, I went so far as to blame my grandmother’s death on myself because I was hanging out with boys instead of girls. This made me to be more of an introvert and my now anxiety disorder is much much worse.
About a year later, my parents sat down with me and my brother and told us they wanted to adopt. At first, I was very excited. I loved the idea of having another brother or sister. And I wouldn’t trade my 8 year old brother (let’s call him Scott) for anything, but adopting kids is part of what triggered a huge change in my parent’s behavior. Also- I had started getting older. I loved playing video games, watching cartoons and writing. However, these weren’t the things they wanted me to like I guess, because I started to feel their judgment become more clear and apparent as I got older. Now, I assume this is because as a kid, I just did what I was told, or my oddities were assumed to fade over time, but that is not the case anymore. Anyways, entering middle school, our family fostered a little girl, let’s call her Ally. A young woman in our church had told us that Ally’s family was out of the picture, and as her aunt, she couldn’t take her in as she was already a single mom and planned on adopting her brother, but couldn’t handle all three alone. So my family stepped in- however, we had come to find that her father was still in the picture and was actively fighting for custody. And Ally was a bit of a handful. My parents have admitted that they expected to swoop in, save a child from a hard life and be the heroes, and when things were harder than that they were very upset. Ally was about three- she remembered her mom (who was in jail i believe), her sisters, her grandma and grandpa, as well as her dad. She didn’t want our family, she wanted hers. She didn’t listen to my parents and rejected their parenting. This is what started to make my parents snap. I understand it was hard for them, but now that I’m older, I get it. She was a little girl who wanted her family. But they took her rejection very seriously and were constantly unhappy with her and made sure she knew it. Children not listening immediately was newer to them as my brother and I both did pretty much whatever they asked, and they did not take well to being told “no” by a child. 8 months after living with Ally, she was taken in by her grandparents to live with them and her sisters. The next day, my parents took my brother and I on a small trip. I’m not sure if it was to cheer us up or to celebrate. I was quite sad though- I had started to really care about Ally and had convinced myself that “God would take care of things” and I would have a sister. But I was angry- God took someone away from me and I was doing everything right. Why was he punishing me? Nothing made sense. Yet, only a year later, my parents were considering taking in another child. I wanted nothing to do with it- God had already taken one sibling away from me. I couldn’t do it again. In the end, I agreed and soon became attached to this little boy, who was two when we met him. This was Scott. I immediately became attached- and I love this kid more than I can describe- he’s my little brother and I would do anything for him.
This is where things start to go further downhill. Scott has a lot of trauma and mental issues, one of those issues being oppositional defiant disorder. That basically means that listening to any form of authority is near impossible for him, and causes him to lash out and act younger than he is. This is probably due to a number of reasons, as he was severely neglected and abused as an infant and his birth mother was on several different substances while pregnant with him, to the point where he was born high on several illegal drugs. He was left in a car seat for most of his infant life, so the back of his head is slightly flattened due to this. My parents are very obedient/disciplined-based parents, so his behavior rocked their world. In my opinion, the way they handled things with Scott was borderline abusive. There were several occasions where he would say he hated them (as young children do when they're mad) and they would flip. Telling him that if he didn’t want them that was fine. They didn’t need him. He could run back to his other parents, but his mom was in jail and his dad didn’t want him, so good luck with that. If we were in the car when this happened, they would threaten to leave him on the side of the road and good luck finding his way home. Once my mother literally pulled to the side of the road, placed him outside the car and started driving so he would “think they would leave him if his actions didn’t change,” but she turned around to get him. Because they would “never actually abandon or hurt him,” their actions were justified and perfectly fine. They would tell him he was acting like a baby when he started to cry and scream. “Little baby Scott, do you need a diaper?” Is how they would tease him when he became older, which just made his tantrums worse. They would tell him how disappointed they were with him and that he should be ashamed of himself and the way he acted because they gave him everything. They would call him, to his face, “an ungrateful manipulative piece of shit.” Because according to my parents, he could control his actions 100% and was choosing to act out to make their lives difficult. While I understand that this was hard for them, in my opinion, this in no way excuses their behavior. One time, Scott was crying and was upset (who knows why, but the kid had a lot of trauma and mental issues so it didn’t bother me too much), and my mother picked him up and put him in his room. She told him that every time he tried to leave his room, she would take away one of his stuffed animals. (He had several that he loved very much). Because this sounded so terrible to him, he ran after her trying to say it wasn’t fair. So she went into his room and took a stuffed animal. This cycle continued while he cried and begged for her to stop, because he just didn’t get it that she was going to keep doing this over and over and his trying to convince her was making it worse. Eventually, there were none left, and she told him if he didn’t stop crying she was going to throw them all away. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I do know that several of them were thrown away, if not at that time than others. There are many other instances of things like this and worse occurring, but we’d be here for a while if I tried to recount them all. Moving forwards to closer when I was moving out-
Now, several years later, when I turned sixteen, I had come to terms with the fact that I was bisexual. This went against everything my family was for, and I knew exactly how they viewed queer people. So, I started learning about different branches of Christianity and felt like I knew a God who loved me as I was and was happy in my decision to switch denominations. (My parents were baptists, and I wanted to be non-denominational). A few months after this, I decided to tell my parents the truth. I had done my best to give them hints, but I wanted to be honest with them because I trusted that they would love me and be there for me no matter what. When I told them I wanted to talk to them about something, they pushed and pressed and I had been trying to wait to talk to them until the next day. I had been seeing my high school counselor, and she suggested giving them a heads-up before springing that conversation up on them. However, after telling them to wait, they went through my phone and saw that I had researched different denominations and read different sermons on queer-accepting faith. They were livid. To be clear- I had a friend over while this was happening. We were watching a movie and joking about how I lost my phone and couldn’t show them this picture I wanted to. Then, I was called upstairs. I had apparently betrayed my parents and, “how could I do this to them, when I had someone over?” My father demanded I send my friend home, but my mother convinced him for one more hour. I was told not to tell my friend anything they had said and to act like things were fine, but I couldn’t. I went back downstairs where we were hanging out and started sobbing. I felt like my whole world was falling apart. Everything was over- and the people I thought would love me no matter what made me so afraid and sad, I was completely broken. My friend did their best to comfort me and even felt weary to leave me alone with my family but I told them I’d be okay, and asked that they update our friends about the situation. That night was hellish. So many conversations, them trying to understand what I felt, but not taking me particularly seriously either. That night turned into weeks of books, slideshows, conversations, and prayers. It felt like at-home conversion therapy. Eventually, I was given a choice “put my convictional flag in the ground or loose their trust.” As the petrified 16 year old, I chose to lie. I put my “flag” in the ground and did my best to, “earn back their trust” and repair their reputation that I had tarnished. The next couple months were a blur. I felt so terrible about myself. I didn’t know what I thought or believed and I became extremely hyper anxious and depressed. I had lost all sense of privacy and I did trust my parents further than I could toss them. My 17 year old brother (he was 14 at the time, let’s call him James) was 100% on board with my parents. My life felt like a living nightmare. My parents had it so that all my texts sent or received from my phone would go directly to theirs, so I couldn’t even confide in my friends without getting into trouble (which had happened and was how I found out that they did that because I deleted the texts immediately after sending/receiving things).. Everything felt like it was about me and how I needed to earn back their trust and how I was a terrible betrayer who they were not proud of in the slightest. I had gone to get a pixie cut (with their approval) and after they told me I was disgusting and repulsive and would never find a man to love me. I was heartbroken and felt so alone and unloved in my house, while I had to watch my younger brother be treated the way he was by my parents.
Luckily, I had a lot of friends and our school counselor who had been there for me through everything. They showered me with support and love and made sure I had a safe space to exist and truthfully I think they’re the only reason I didn’t do anything drastic and am still here today. It was hard though because James went to the same school as me and would tell my parents if I was with anyone he knew was queer or queer accepting. This caused me to be very very paranoid about who I was with, when, where, etc. Constantly covering my tracks, having an excuse set up and ready to bolt if I saw anyone I knew. What made things equally hard is that the church my father works at is quite big in our area. So if someone from our church or someone who knew my family saw me with anyone they labeled as “queer” or “gay,” they would tell my family as well. For the most part, I didn’t feel safe anywhere. I was constantly alert and on guard, even when I was asleep as my parents had woken me up before to confront me about someone I was friends with at school.
Fortunately for me, despite everything being such a mess, I am quite academically smart. I got a job the second I turned sixteen as I had heard the horror stories of queer kids being kicked out and wanted to be prepared. I had been saving money, taking college classes (we have a state program that pays for the classes while you’re in high school), and putting on a show for my family for quite some time. After saving some money, I paid my parents for an older car that they had paid off ten or so years ago. After my brother turned 16, he claimed it was too hard to share a car with me, so while I was away visiting a friend they bought him a car and told us that they expected each of us to pay them one thousand dollars before we graduated high school and that when we did so, they would sign over our respective cars to us. To be clear, I contributed to insurance and paid for my own gas, as well as contributing to my phone bill and money for food. Meanwhile, my brother had no job, and was constantly asking my parents for money to go out with friends. He had also taken up golfing, which as most people know is extremely expensive, and my parents funded everything. James had actually admitted to asking for more money than he needed and save the leftovers for whatever he wanted. I was also expected to chauffeur him to golf events and to get togethers with his friends, and my parents would in return give me some gas money. Another thing to note is that the only reason I was contributing to our phone bill is because James wanted unlimited data and my father said it was unreasonable unless we both contributed financially. I refused as I was trying to save money (as I would have with the car situation), however things per normal went James’s way. However, because he did not have a job, he was not expected to pay anything and would not be charged for the months and years that he did not contribute to. I did my best not to let these things get to me and to keep a level head. I paid my parents for the car because I already had over two thousand dollars saved as a seventeen year old high school student due to my hard work.
I focused on my classes and joined theater to help fill the hours in between school and work. I was much more active my sophomore year but when James also decided to join theater I retreated a bit as my once safe space to freely exist was no longer safe. I joined the stage crew but honestly that was also very enjoyable and lethargic for me and I enjoyed it a lot. Anyways, I was mostly a straight A student besides the stray Bs and one or two Cs (psychology and AP government screwed me over) and was working 15 or so hours a week. This is on top of my commitments to the church which were most of my Sundays and my Wednesday evenings. The funny thing is though- James missed more church than I ever did yet because my absence was because of work and not golf, I was the one consistently reprimanded for my lack of attendance and socialization whilst I was there. Yet because James could never do anything wrong and was a very extroverted person his lack of attendance wasn’t as serious as my own. I had one close friend through our church, let’s call her Grace (now 18F) and she actually knew about everything and was very supportive of me. I also had some other friends who really only showed up to church so I didn’t have to go through the torture alone which I don’t know if I could ever repay them for. Besides the people I was comfortable with though, I was pretty much a loner there and this heavily displeased my parents as it made them look bad and messed with their reputation. I never realized how much appearances meant to them until all of the shit that happened took place. As I mentioned before, our church is very conservative and traditional, and many sermons and lessons revolved around gender roles and the sinfulness of the world in terms fo the LGBTQ community. I consistently felt targeted because of my looks and my personality and stopped feeling comfortable there a very long time ago.
Now that more context is in place, fast forward to the end of my junior year. I had at this point finished all my high school requirements for graduation and was given an incredible opportunity to go to our local college full time for my senior year. I was very excited and happy because not only did it give me more freedom but it also meant I would get more than a year of my college education paid for by the state.
It was also around this time when I met my now boyfriend, let’s call him Dean. We were coworkers and had begun to get to know each other. We had a lot in common and while were different people personality wise, we enjoyed each other’s company quite a bit. By some miracle, I convinced my parents to allow me to hang out with him outside of work by claiming he was just a friend and saying that he was a Christian (which is by no means true). They were extremely skeptical but allowed us to hang out. We had an incredible time- and by the end of our first date he asked me to be his girlfriend which I happily accepted. I was so happy, but when I got home, things spiraled out of control. I told my parents about our time, and they were extremely unhappy as they felt fooled (which they were to be fair) and told me I was not allowed to see him ever again. I was devastated and they said a lot of very uncalled for things and but I understand why they were angry. To be clear, they knew I had a romantic interest in Dean and that this hangout was to see if we would be compatible partners and get to know each other better. They did not call it a date though because they weren’t comfortable with it, even if it was a date and they kinda knew it. So while they were on some level “fooled,” I feel that their anger and harshness wasn’t called for as they knew the intentions of our hanging out. The next morning my father demanded to see my phone. This is when I started to panic. You see, they had stop tracking my texts and I had openly flirted with Dean over text. Nothing that explicit and no photos of any kind. But the flirting would be enough for them to tear my world apart and I knew it. They had gone through my personal conversations before and made me feel terrible because of it and I refused to let them do it again. So I deleted everything. The entire conversation chain, I removed it from my phone 100%. My parents absolutely lost their shit. They had been manipulating and gaslighting me for years, doing anything and everything to keep their control and with my actions I showed them they couldn’t control me forever and things went very downhill. I lost all my privacy and was once again told how I had betrayed them and I was terrible and couldn’t be trusted. Again- I partially understand their anger here because I had directly disobeyed a command. But at the same time, I feel as a young woman I should be allowed some sense of privacy and the ability to talk to people without being constantly monitored. I don’t feel like I did anything wrong and would happily do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I’d be where I am today. Regardless of this, my life became a living hell once again, and my parents compared this to when I came out, “which was maybe the worst night of their lives.” They stripped me of all my privileges even if I didn’t have many to begin with. They made me feel absolutely miserable and awful about myself and I was monitored like never before. I would be working and receive texts upon texts of how I was so terrible and how could I do this to them because they had done everything for me and I’m a terrible daughter who should be ashamed of myself for the deceit and malicious nature of my actions. Again- this was because they could not read the messages between me and my now boyfriend. I understand them being mad but they took it to a completely inappropriate level. I shared everything happening with my friends and counselor and they supported me and assured me I did nothing wrong and they would be there for me which helped but as my home was now a living hellscape it was hard to hear it. I found a way to tell Dean about things and at first he felt guilty but I assured him that their actions were not his fault but theirs. He then asked me if I wanted to pause our relationship but I told him honestly that they had taken so many things I cared about over the years and I refused to let them take this. I did tell him however I understood if he didn’t want to put up with all the complicatedness of my family but he told me he cared for me and would be there so long as I was okay with it. He also told me if things ever got really bad at home, regardless of the fact we had just started dating, he had spoken to his family and they offered me a place to stay if I needed/wanted it. This really touched me, but I reassured him that it was not his job to offer that, but I appreciated the offer.
This begins our relationship and we were very happy. We had found a way to communicate over email, and we were able to hide our relationship with my family. Luckily for me, over the years I had made a habit of hanging out at the park by myself so it was not strange for me to head to the park for a couple of hours. There, I would leave my car and phone (my phone had a tracker on it) and Dean and I would hangout multiple times a week and it was heaven. At this point, we’ve only been dating for a year but I can admit without any doubt that I am in love with this man and he is in love with me. During the school year, it became easier for us to hang out in between classes as we both went to the same college (I am older for my year in school and he is younger, so he was a sophomore in college while I was a senior in high school. However, we are barely a year apart in age for anyone who is concerned). However, in order for us to communicate and hang out, I had to be extremely diligent and was consistently covering my tracks while “once again, earning my parents trust and repairing our relationship.” Because of course their actions were completely justified and I was the one in the wrong, per normal. Anyways, every day, I was editing search histories, erasing messages, and looking over my shoulder. Our church had a program on campus where Dean and I went to school, so being together in public was risky as my father’s friends and coworkers were always on campus and I knew I would be screwed if we were caught together. We had a couple of close calls over the months but it was all worth it because I hadn’t been that happy in years.
Now, to the day I left and why. You see, my parents' behavior towards Scott was becoming more aggressive and worse over time. They also had, in my opinion, a drinking problem. Considering they didn’t deny it when I called them out, they may agree. They would behave more hostile after several drinks and it was happening so consistently I was constantly walking on eggshells. Between the way they treated Scott, the way they treated me and the constant stress I was under trying to balance my life in fear of the repercussions, things became too much. When things weren’t going to shit, I was consistently expected to either babysit my brother and do chores while being a full time college student and working a part time job WHILE attending church multiple times a week and keeping up with my responsibilities as a senior. This is on top of the stress my parents' behavior caused, meanwhile James was expected to do almost nothing in comparison. Don’t get me wrong- he didn’t do anything, but he had almost no responsibilities outside of school and his extracurriculars which were exclusively funded by my parents. Yes he helped with dishes during the week and would keep his space tidy. But as my schedule became much more flexible due to my school schedule, my expectations around the house became much higher than his. Even though I paid 200 a month on gas, 50 a month for insurance and 50 a month for the phone bill, and he paid nothing for his car, insurance, phone, gas, nothing. So you would think he would be expected to help in the house more but no. Also, James’s behavior towards Scott mimicked my parents and so all babysitting responsibilities fell on me as they couldn’t be trusted alone together. I was rarely if ever paid for my cleaning or babysitting services as it was my responsibility as their eldest child. They would also consistently judge me for my weight, cloths, hair, hobbies, etc. Why did I think it was a good idea to get fast food? I clearly didn’t need it. They would “outfit check me” to make sure the outfits I wore were feminine enough because the way I look effected their reputation and I couldn’t be trusted. I was not allowed to cut my hair after their tantrum over it. As for my hobbies, I stopped playing sports in middle school as I am very short (currently 5 foot even) and was unable to keep up with my peers. However my interest in video games and cartoons wasn’t feminine enough and they proceeded to compare me to my best friend Grace because she was skinnier and liked more feminine things than I did which hurt a lot. Another thing for context, I have PCOS. It’s an endocrine disorder that heavily effects your metabolism and hormones, which in turn severely effected my weight, however my parents never acknowledged it and again made everything my fault. So from what I wore, what I ate, who I hung out with and what I enjoyed doing was constantly criticized, scrutinized and eventually controlled by my family for years. On top of everything else, I was done. I was 18, I had resaved the thousand I paid my family and knew I was at a place where I didn’t need them and was tired of being treated like shit. So I left.
The night I moved out was a total shit show. I had rallied Dean and my other friend, let’s call them Rita (18NB), and they helped me form a plan. When I returned home, Dean and Rita would be on their way. I would pack everything that belonged to me or I felt they would let me take, and prep the bags outside. After Rita arrived I went to try and explain to my parents that I would be leaving and explain calmly why. In a perfect world, we would have had a long deep talk, and things would have ended alright. That is far, far from what happened. They immediately starting screaming, and took my phone and car keys as both belonged to them, which I calmly handed over. Rita was there for emotional support, and put themselves between me and my parents as they got more angry and seemed to be turning aggressive. After that, my father called the police and claimed that there was an intruder in their home trying to take their child. Yeah. Complete bullshit- which to this day I’m surprised they were never charged with falsifying a 911 call. They screamed at Rita to get out of their home and was screaming that I was throwing away everything and I needed to reconsider. I ignored them and attempted to calmly walk out, and my parents attempted to barricade the doors while harassing Rita to leave. Because Rita is incredible and one of my closest friends now, they refused to leave without me which was very calming. While my parents were distracted yelling at them, I slipped out through the garage. My mother saw this and then grabbed me, attempting to drag me inside by my arm. Rita saw this and assisted me in getting her off me, and after doing so we continued to walk towards Dean’s car where he was waiting for us. He figured it would be best if my family didn’t see him for the time being as they would definitely lose their minds at seeing his face. My parents continued screaming and then the cops arrived. They were quite confused at first because they had been sent to deal with a potential kidnapping, only to see two grown adults throwing a tantrum because their adult child didn’t want to live with them anymore. That night was honestly so insane I could write three more pages about everything they said and did. The most notable events were first when my mother tried to explain to the police that because I was her child, she was allowed to put her hands on me, which they humorously informed her was not the case. The next was when James came home from theater rehearsal, to which my parents told them that I was abandoning our family. He was an emotional wreck through all of it, and to this day has told me that until I “fix” things with our parents he is not okay with having any form of relationship with me. Throughout all of this Scott was in his room, and I was allowed to give him one last hug before leaving. The final and most notable thing, was as the cops allowed my boyfriend, Rita and I to leave, my father threatened violence towards my boyfriend and accused him of "taking advantage of his underage daughter," which is just ridiculous as we are practically the same age, and anything we had done together was consensual and reserved for after I turned 18. Another thing my parents did was go through each bag I had packed and took everything they felt belonged to them, including the laptop provided to me by my high school, which they hilariously were made to give back to me several days later as it was not theirs and they had no right to take it. They tried claiming they were giving it to me out of the kindness of their hearts, but that bullshit meant nothing as after I informed the school of their behavior, the school assured me they would be made to give it back. Another thing they threatened to do as I left was pull me out of high school, which I was assured by the police they were not capable of doing as I was 18. The police were for the most part annoyed with my parents, tired of their bs and told me I seemed to be a capable young woman and wished me the best of luck. My parents had tried to ask the police to say I was mentally unstable for the time being so I wouldn’t be allowed to leave, as their “she’s still in high school” excuse didn’t do anything. You see, as my father is an influential church figure and had friends in the police force, he thought they would be on his side but was sorely mistaken as the chief told him they wouldn’t be doing him any favors. And with that, I was free.
My boyfriend's family has been nothing but unconditionally kind and supportive and have accepted me as part of their family which has been a huge blessing in all of this. I am in contact with my father’s sister and his father, my aunt and grandpa, and as I have expressed my unhappiness at home, they are supportive of me as well. However, as my aunt lives further away and my grandpa is not in the best place to have me live with him, I have been with my boyfriend's family since I left home in October. I have a lot more I could say but I already feel like there are way too many parts here and so for now I’ll leave it at this. So yeah, AITA for moving out after I was treated like shit for years while witnessing the mistreatment of my sibling?