Perverted questions to ask your boyfriend

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TDLR: I (26F) have been with my boyfriend for 3 years now. I sometimes perceive/judge him to have a weird/flirty attitude towards other girls sometimes. Am I trippin?
There have been a few instances that have made me feel weird; and I’ll explain the 2 instances that feel the most significant to me below. I just can’t tell, dawg. He’s social. He’s proud. He’s youthful, and he loves variety- variety of people. He lives for conversation, and I just don’t want to be overthinking here. I wonder: is my boyfriend playing some dumb game sometimes, or am I trippin? (I’ve brought this thought up to him in the past- after the first instance I listed here. He denied any foul play...but then, ya know, something weird happened again.)

Instance 1: We were at a gym, waiting at the front counter for me to get a new gym card. Turns out he knows the girl who walks up, and she doesn’t look at me- instead; they explode into 10+ mins of non-stop talking like old friends who need to hangout again. But something about her demeanor just felt flirty- there was a lot of “oh really?” Eyebrow raises, small smirks, nobody’s looking at me, or acknowledging me- I’m standing literally right beside him. Eventually he asks her what she’s doing; to which she replies “some homework- want to come help me?”
He chokes up for a second and says something like “well, I can’t cuz I gotta workout…and also she needs a new gym card” and gestured to me. As we walked away, he noted “that was weird.” When I asked him to elaborate; he got sketchy and avoided elaborating; kinda felt like he was throwing fluffy fake stuff out there to avoid getting to his original point. I pushed and he said it “kinda felt flirty?” I said “ok, I can see why you think that.” I later on told him I felt like she was flirting with him and it made me feel weird that he didn’t even introduce me to someone who he apparently had some connection with (turns out she was friends with his ex.)
A month later; he asks me if I’d enjoy a party. I keep asking questions to ask who’s party, turns out he spoke to her earlier at the gym and found out she’s going to a party at a college. He was like “I thought it might be fun for us, something different.” I was like hey man, not cool. How do you even know her? And did you not admit you felt yourself she flirted with you? He got all apologetic eventually as I argued my point and things felt a little pathetic for me after. Well, we moved on.

Instance 2: We were visiting my friend at the bar she works at. There was a new worker there, a woman near our age. When my friend brings her to us to introduce her; my bf immediately says “hey- do you workout? I can tell.” They explode into 10+ mins of hyper chit chat; jesting, throwing around wit, getting to know each other with excited intrigue. I tried to add to the convo a couple times but realized my words didn’t land on anyone’s awareness, so I sat back and chilled- letting my thoughts flow freely and privately so that I wouldn't end up reacting internally; which would lessen my peace of mind. Eventually, my bf's and I's companion (who accompanied us) gets quiet- and I got the vibe he was observing my bf and the woman speaking too- as he was also saying nothing. He's a good friend of mine as well and he's always been invested in the relationship I have with my bf. I think after a while my bf noticed we'd been rather silent and he starts interacting with me again, rubbing my back.
See? I don’t want to be tripping over dumb stuff here.
But uh... We later get home, and he randomly brings her up again- how cool she was, how muscular she was, and more thoughts about her. Eventually the topic died down because I was just kind of candidly responding; waiting to see if there was something else he was trying to get at.
Now like. We live together, he loves spending time with me; all that. He's never hurt our trust in a sense of being unfaithful; so that's where I'm stuck feeling like...do I just have some internal stuff to work out here?

Before anyone asks: yes, I have worked in fast food. I did so for a long time. Moving on. I've been thinking a lot about why it might be that some fast food restaurants almost always get my order wrong and other fast food restaurants almost never get my order wrong. I've considered things like the customization level of my order, better paid staff, having enough or too little staffing, etc. The main theory I have for why an order might come out wrong, though, is that there must be some disconnect between when the order is placed and when the order is given to the customer. To give an example, I can only remember one instance where I've gone to McDonald's and gotten everything I ordered and everything made correctly. The only customization I usually make to my order at McDonald's is no cheese on a #7. On the other hand however, when I've gone to Chick-fil-A, I can only remember one instance ever where I didn't receive everything I ordered. For some context, I hate holding up drive-thrus because I know how it feels to have your boss hound you to be faster, even when it might not be your fault that the line is moving slowly. Therefore, I've never been the type of person to check my order before driving away. This has forced me countless times to either go inside the restaurant, which I try to avoid because of a disability, or to get back in a long drive-thru line to get my order fixed. I've stopped doing this at certain places, like McDonald's, though, because I've grown to value my time more than shaving a few seconds off of an arbitrary drive-thru timer. I shouldn't have to go back to restaurants as many times as I have in the past. I never have to do this at places like Chick-fil-A because my order is right roughly 99% of the time. The question remains though. Why is there such a distinct difference when both establishments are of the same category of business? What differentiates them so much that would cause this disparity? I've tried to find any articles or research that might explain this but I suppose it's not that important since I haven't found anything very helpful. I'm wondering if anyone has any insite into how various fast food establishments function and why they might be more or less efficient and accurate than others.

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THE NEW TITANS

In Shadow of Kestrel
Issue Nine: War Dove
Written by AdamantAce, GemlinTheGremlin & PatrollinTheMojave
Edited by Deadislandman1 and Voidkiller826
 
Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
“Raven!”
Slade’s gruff voice pierced through the deafening, wave-like roars in Raven’s head, but the rage was too much to bear. Her hands sizzled as hellfire danced in her palms, her body readying for another attack. She locked eyes with a reptilian soldier, dismounting his simian steed and charging on foot, but as she lunged forwards to strike him, she watched a man fly into her path. Slade Wilson caught the young Titan’s hand and pushed, throwing Raven backwards.
“Come on, kid, snap out of it!” But as Slade’s words fell on deaf ears, he felt the familiar sting of a fist to his jaw, a crack echoing in his ears. He recoiled from the attack but powered through his injury and stood his ground. Sinking his heels into the ground, he locked eyes with the girl before him. Her face seemed contorted and uncanny, as if all of the rage she was feeling was pouring out of her. She groaned angrily as she thrusted her head downwards, her forehead making contact with Slade’s teeth, before pulling her head back up again in preparation for another attack.
Before she could make one, however, one of the lizardmen had almost reached the warring duo’s sides, and as he lunged forward with his long spear, he made contact with Raven’s side. A small rip formed in the side of Raven’s outfit, which seemed to only anger her further. However, it did seem to distract her enough; Mar’i fired off a single Starbolt which struck only the ground - a warning shot.
“Raven! Please!” the half-Tamaranean cried out. But the Raven she knew was buried under unfathomable amounts of fury; she ignored her teammate’s call and instead flew forwards and swung out at the reptiloid. The strike glowed with red flame, sending the creature skidding across the floor, barely conscious. Slade spotted a flash of something else on her face, as if she was finally able to fight back against the endless rage - pain, perhaps, or anguish. But in an instant, it was gone.
That flicker of something other than white-hot anger was enough for Slade.
He clutched his side as his still open wound began to ache, the bandages feeling wet with fresh blood. His jaw felt crooked, and as he gritted his teeth, it felt as though they sat differently atop each other. And yet, he clutched his staff tightly in one hand, and with the other he beckoned to Raven.
“Kid, you’re fighting it, I know you are!” Slade felt his mouth filling with blood rather than saliva.
Within a moment, Raven’s attention was locked on the white-haired man once again. She fired bolt after bolt of black and red flame, but Slade was still dextrous despite his pain. He dodged and dived, weaving through the fire, until he finally managed to make contact with his opponent. He drove his staff into her chest and pushed his weight against the weapon, forcing her backwards. She rose into the air, a black mist pouring from her arms and over her face, a large ghostly corvid taking her place. He felt the deathly cold shadow of the bird’s wing fall over him, his feet leaving the ground as she scooped him into the air.
He looked down at the ground far beneath him. A fall from this height would kill anyone, he thought, let alone someone beaten half to death.
Then, as a verdant bolt of energy struck it in the side, Raven’s Soul Self shrieked and the shadows retreated inwards. Slade felt himself falling through the air for a second, then two, before he felt his back collide with something soft and cushioned. As he looked up, he met the gaze of Conner, who soared to the ground in an instant, placing the snow-haired man on the ground and giving a swift nod.
Raven let out a pained, frustrated yell as she returned to the ground, aided by a grappling line expertly positioned by Tim, and in response, Conner jetted off towards the sound of her cries. Slade’s feet faltered beneath him, and he stumbled to keep his balance. His breathing was laboured and his vision was becoming fuzzy. It felt as though, he realised, all the blood loss and violence he had suffered over the past few hours were finally catching up to him. Was this what dying felt like?
“Slade!” shouted a voice, followed by the dulled drumming of hurried footsteps. Slade pulled his hand across his face to wipe away the mental haze and drops of blood. It was Don, sprinting towards him. When Slade felt Don clasp him by shoulders, he realized just how slowed he was by his injuries. “Plan?,” Slade coughed out.
“You’ve seen what she can do. I only see one way out of these without one of the kids getting hurt. I’d do it myself, but I’m out of practice and this is too important to leave to chance.” Don looked around anxiously, his face betraying that he had a lot on his mind. “I’m giving you the powers of a god.” Slade opened his mouth to ask a question, a million came to mind. He glanced across the battlefield. Through a blurry film, he saw Raven’s Soul Self bat Conner away with its wing. He careened into the trunk of a thick tree, uprooting it with a deep crunch. “Are you sure?,” Slade asked, breathless.
“I’m not losing another Titan.” Don squeezed his eyes shut. His grip on Slade tightened as pale, almost blinding light enveloped them. It felt warm. No, better than that: it felt peaceful. With his enhanced senses, Slade could hear his erratic heartbeat slow. Fleeting visions bubbled up in his mind, opening up his awareness beyond the wildest dreams of Project Veritas. He felt rivers of magical energy flowing through the air and earth. Each of them spiralled towards a depression. Towards Raven, he knew instinctively. Iridescent blue light spread outward from his shoulders. It washed over his body armor, bleaching the jet black panels until his entire body shone with radiance. The pain from wounds old and new faded, replaced by serenity - and power. Don opened his eyes again and sighed gently; a concoction and joy, relief, and quiet mourning.
“There,” Don remarked. Slade felt lighter, less angry, less burdened. He looked down at the iridescent light enveloping his body. Magical energy buzzed against the surface of his skin. “The powers of the Dove - officially yours.”
Slade sucked in a nervous breath. “Don…” Even rejuvenated, he was still lost for words.
“They’re yours now,” Don smiled weakly. “Now go earn them. There’s a Titan in dire need of our help.”
Conner floated out of the dense jungle, rubbing his forehead. “Is Slade glowing or do I have a concussion?”
Slade looked over at Raven. She seemed less erratic, her movements driven by her brain rather than her gut. Tim’s staff batted fiercely against her, each strike buffeting her back more and more, but it was clear to Slade that Raven was not any weaker physically - her mind, however, was another story.
Slade began marching towards her, the ache in his side dulled. “Raven. You’re strong. Fight this rage inside of you.” Raven glared at him, a spark of something in her eyes, as she swooped in towards him at top speed. As she neared him, however, Slade readied his staff, stretching it out in front of him. As the tip of the weapon struck Raven, a beam of white energy coursed through her, as if she had been struck by lightning, and her body was flung backwards across the dirt.
Slade danced a hand over his rifle, but something felt different. He pulled it into his hands and inspected it swiftly; nothing seemed out of order. Raven rose slowly from her supine position, snarling softly to herself. Her movements had slowed, the expression on her face becoming closer to horror than rage. She was doing it.
“You’re nearly there, kid,” Slade soothed, his words suddenly like butter. He watched Raven’s shoulders start to relax. “That’s it. Just fight this, Raven. You’re almost there.”
Despite her tremendous progress, Raven’s blistering fury won out once more, and she charged a large bolt of hellfire in her hands. Slade fiddled with his rifle and crossed his fingers. There was a standstill between the two. Slade analysed his rifle again; there was something different about the barrel, as if it had been swapped out for another similar model. The stock felt lighter, too, as if the weight had been–
Raven roared at him, swiping wildly with glowing fists, and in an instant Slade instinctively pulled the trigger.
What fired from the gun was not a silvery bullet, but a familiar glowing bolt of white light, cloud-like in appearance. As it struck Raven, she sucked in a deep breath, the energy engulfing her. Her face softened and her posture relaxed. Then she swung out for the man’s weakened side, his bandages poking through the aura of light. And yet, as he stayed steadfast, not even attempting to dodge the attack. Sparks flew from the point of contact. Slade just readied another shot and fired.
Her body swayed with the blow. Slade closed the gap between them and focused on the new warmth he felt, concentrating it into his staff as best he could. Then, as he held it out in front of him at arm’s length, he swiped at Raven and struck her in the side of the shoulder. Each blow seemed to be more effective than the last, but as Raven’s movements continued to slow, Slade held fire.
“You’re doing it, Raven,” Slade encouraged. He watched as the other Titans surrounded Raven, each of them ready for any further attacks. Everyone watched with bated breath as their teammate and friend thrashed and recoiled from the hit. Her breathing was rapid, although it felt closer to panic than unabashed fury. She clasped her hands over her head, groaning. Then, suddenly, she stopped.
Her face had softened completely, her jaw slack, and tears filled her vision. She looked up at Slade with a comfort in her eyes. The aura emanating from him was pervasive and contagious, and although she had felt lost in a sea of impossibly vast emotions, its warmth and comfort cut through. The anger was still there somewhat, the last remaining dregs still working its way out of her system, but the comfort, the peace that Slade was providing was the anchor for her to stabilise herself. She had only ever seen this kind of power when Don…
Raven’s eyes widened as she realised what that meant. She collapsed to her knees, suddenly feeling the bone-deep fatigue her rage had suppressed. Her teammates rushed in around her. Mar’i dropped to a knee by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s OK. You’re safe. Everyone’s OK.”
“Don I’m—” She wiped away a stream of tears, stumbling her way out of the emotional vortex she’d been sucked into. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’ve lost control before, but never like this.”
Don looked older. Creases ran across his forehead and around his eyes. His smile hadn’t changed. “Raven, my brother and I got those powers when I was a kid. We didn’t ask for them. We weren’t ready for them. We didn’t know how to use them, let alone control them.” He laughed dryly, recalling Hank. “I don’t regret anything. Giving my powers to Slade is the best thing I’ve done with them in years. I know Hank would feel the same way.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Raven rose to her feet and pulled her cloak tightly around herself. She was still shaking. Tim’s eyes drifted from her to Slade. “Something’s gnawing at me. Kestrel’s powers are weakened in Skartaris. Don’s…” He coughed, “Slade’s powers are amplified. If this place is what affected you—”
Mar’i’s face flashed with recognition, “—your powers must be tied to the Lords of Order and Chaos!”
Tim furrowed his brow. “Maybe.” He hardly had time to consider further when a thundering crack tore open the sky. Two bolts of swirling energy - one red and one blue - met above them, forming a swirling portal at their vertex. The Titans readied their weapons, expecting the worst.
“It’s them.” Slade murmured, still put off by his uncanny awareness. Terataya and T’Charr descended from the sky, one wreathed in mist, the other, magma. The two elementals stopped a few feet above the ground, hovering.
Terataya was the first to speak. Even at a whisper, her voice reverberated through the air. “I don’t usually care for surprises, Don, but this was a pleasant one.” A thin smile appeared on her face.
“Slade Wilson.” Terataya’s neck turned at an unnatural angle to face him. “You wield the powers of Order with great skill. Who understands the dangers of unchecked War better than a soldier. Become my champion. Protect the balance.”
Slade took a step back, then glanced at Don.
“She’s right.” Don said, with only a hint of hesitation. “It took me years to use the powers like you used them today. You’re a natural.”
Slade looked at his hands, still gently pulsing with pale blue light. “Thanks.” He allowed himself a weak smile. “But no thanks.”
“What.” T’Charr’s voice boomed.
“It doesn’t take Zatanna to realize an old soldier like me makes a piss-poor Avatar of Peace. I fight for a living, and I’m not deluded enough to think that makes me good at anything but fighting. If you want someone who understands the need for balance, Don just sacrificed everything special about him for it.”
Don raised an eyebrow. “None taken.”
“His actions today were noble, but they do not make up for years spent squandering the gift.”
“Squandering? The Titans wouldn’t exist today if he hadn’t pulled them together. Everything they’ve done. Everything they’ve achieved for your balance wouldn’t have happened without him, including stopping that monster you made.”
“Watch your tone, mortal.” T’Charr threatened.
“There may be a vein of truth to his words, lover.” Terataya said. “But *if we were to restore Don Hall’s power, we would need assurances. His indecision led down this path.”*
Rocks ground against each other as T’Charr landed beside Don. “You would have weeks, not years, to select a counterpart and return to your duties.”
Don’s response was instantaneous. “I’ve made a decision.”
“You’ve decided if you’ll take up the mantle of Dove again?”
Don nodded. “And who should be the new Hawk.”
Terataya giggled. “Full of surprises today. T’Charr?”
“We should discuss this.” He said. “In private.”
The three of them vanished, leaving the Titans and Slade alone on a battlefield riddled with bits of dino meat and ape fur.
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
“You don’t think they’re gonna come back in like, 200 years, right?” Conner asked. He sat beside the depowered Slade Wilson, who was downing aspirin to make up for the sudden deficit in peace energy.
“I don’t know.” Tim said. “But we should give them more than fifteen minutes.”
As if on cue, the skies opened again. Again, the chromatic energy lit the sky and again a portal opened its swirling maw. This time, however, it wasn’t two elemental Lords to descend. Raven squinted to make the figures out.
“Oh my god.” Conner said, having a far easier time with his super-vision.
“What? Who is it?” Tim asked.
“Donna!” Mar’i shouted. She shot off the ground towards her. Her black combat armor was replaced with a crimson and white bodysuit studded with stars that seemed to twinkle as the light shifted around her. The sword at her side was gone too, replaced with a coiled loop of rope suffused with the same brilliant energy. The two collided into an embrace, spinning through the air as they held each other tightly.
Don was the first to land, restored with the powers of Dove. He looked stronger than ever, and maybe more importantly, happier. Even Tim’s typical thoughtful brooding has been pierced by an unimpeachable joy.
“I don’t understand,.” Raven said. “S-She’s alive. How is this possible?”
“I knew there was only one person who could be trusted with the powers of War, with Hank’s abilities.” He scratched the back of his neck, a bit guilty. “And she’d been staring me in the face for years. It took some doing, but eventually T’Charr and Terataya saw that too.”
Donna landed beside him, Mar’i only a step behind. By now Conner had stepped forward. He tried not to choke over his words. “I’m sorry. If I’d—”
Donna didn’t let him get the words out before pulling him into a grapple-turned-hug that quickly grew as the rest of the team piled in. Slade flicked another aspirin into his mouth.
“Danyah!” A voice called out from over the ridge. It was Travis, mounted atop a fanged reptilian creature in the vague shape of a horse and flanked on either side by his gold-armored honor guard. He broke into a gallop, stopping just short of the Titans. “When I saw the skies, I feared the worst. Is it really you? Has sorcery brought you back to us?”
“It’s me, Travis. A Lord of Chaos brought me back.”
“Not to interrupt,.” Slade said, still nursing his wounds. “But did either of you ask them to bring us back to Chicago?”
“I…” Don grimaced. “Donna, how do we get home?”
“How did you get here? Surely you could return the way you came.” Travis said.
“No, we can’t.” Tim said, pressing a few buttons on his wrist’s holographic display. “Whatever magic pervades Skartaris is also causing some extreme time dilation. I can’t guarantee we’d return to the 21st century, or even to Earth.”
“I spent a decade in Skartaris and returned to Earth nearly two centuries later. It’s the influence of Chaos. We’d need a Skartaran mage of overwhelming power to stabilize our return.” She spat the word mage with disgust. Travis’s expression seemed to confirm the reputation of Skartaran spellcasters.
Before their anxiety could spiral, the sky above began to churn. Moments later, the ground shook as a violent bolt of lightning cleaved the air, striking with such ferocity that all but Conner and Donna were flung backward. Mar'i skidded across the damp undergrowth, her senses overwhelmed by the acrid scent of ozone. Her mind was racing; their victory was hard fought, and she doubted they had much left in the tank for another confrontation. She dug her hands into the ground and pushed herself up as she choked from the smell. The Warlord Morgan and his military guards snapped to attention, forming a protective ring around the crater that now marred the earth.
From the smoking pit, a figure rose, unfolding from a crouch like something out of Terminator. Adorned in a red and white jumpsuit that accentuated his lithe build, the young man's appearance was marked by a red cowl and goggles, with sandy brown hair rebelliously spilling out.
Conner squinted through the dissipating smoke, murmuring under his breath, “A speedster?” The Flashes had had a variety of different sidekicks and other allies over the years, but none of them recognised this one
With a nonchalant flair that seemed at odds with the charged atmosphere, the newcomer greeted them. “Hey, everyone chillax. I'm here to get you guys back home.”
Donna, ever the leader, stepped forward and spoke with a commanding curiosity, now emboldened with the war aura of Hawk. “And who are you exactly? Why should we trust you with such a claim?”
Flashing a cheeky grin, he tilted his head and responded, “Well, I’m a speedster for one. Name’s Impulse. If I run fast enough, then I can… well, I guess bend time.”
Behind Donna, the group exchanged sceptical glances. Raven's face remained shadowed by recovery, Mar'i and Conner braced for action, and Tim discretely checked his gadgets, no doubt for something that he could use on a speedster should the need arise.
“Yeah, we figured that much,” Don cut through the tension, his voice calm yet insistent. “Who sent you?”
Impulse chuckled, his demeanour remaining unfazed by their scrutiny. “Look, the details aren't the fun part. Trust me, I can get us back.”
As a silence thick with doubt and scepticism settled over the group, Impulse seemed to realise his casual assurances weren't sufficient. With a theatrical sigh, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face familiar to both Mar'i and Raven.
“Brody!?” Mar'i exclaimed, her surprise echoing through the clearing as she stared at the boy who had once hobbled through their college classes with his leg in a cast.
The young man’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of pride. “Actually, it’s Bart.”
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
When Slade emerged from the shower, his skin was glistening with moisture, the water tracing the contours of his scars. He wrapped a stark white towel around his waist, and crossed the plush carpet to sit on the edge of the hotel room bed. He released a slow, deep breath; it was a good job the speedster kid arrived when he did. The notion of being stranded in an alien land or, worse, a different time had gnawed at him with a ferocity that was hard to admit. Without Bart’s intervention, every one of Slade’s meticulously crafted plans would have been utterly dashed.
Facing him, a wall-mounted mirror caught his rugged reflection. Drawn to his own image, Slade studied the scars that mapped his trials, the slick white hair that crowned his head, and the deep lines etched into his face. A familiar discomfort nagged at him, focusing his attention on his right eye. Unable to alleviate the irritation through the skin, Slade exhaled heavily and carefully removed the eye altogether. The movement, fluid and practised, spoke of years of adaptation.
He placed the prosthetic gently on the bed beside him and as he massaged the socket, a decades-old habit, his mind wandered. He wasn't accustomed to keeping the prosthetic in for extended periods. Showering with it had been an uncomfortable experiment in necessity - he didn't like it, but understood the importance of maintaining the facade. The Slade he would have people believe he was would have never lost an eye, because that Slade had led a life far from by the darker paths Slade had truthfully trodden.
His thoughts wandered to his brief time wielding the potent powers of Dove, and Slade felt a twinge of regret at their loss. The clarity and strength those powers had provided were intoxicating, yet he recognised that he had a more important goal, one he couldn’t compromise. His current role demanded not the accumulation of power but the perfection of his deceit, ensuring that all believed he was not the Slade Wilson they knew, but a Reawakened, more innocent doppelganger.
Now, with the glass eye resting beside him, Slade stared at his unmasked visage. Maintaining the myth of the noble Slade was critical. The ruthless mercenary, the World’s Deadliest Killer - those identities had to remain buried. The Titans had believed him enough to entrust him with divine powers, their faith a testament to his performance, but the game was far from over; in fact, it was entering its most critical phase.
 
 
Next: Return to normality in The New Titans #10
 

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5. Today's Topic: What are some of the healthcare, nursing and medical writing styles you like?

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Yahoooo! Welcome to the Daily Discussion Thread! Have a very cool day! Luigi numbah one!
Welcome to the Daily Discussion Thread. This is the place for asking noob questions, venting about netplay falcos, shitposting, self-promotion, and everything else that doesn't belong on the front page.

New Players:

If you're completely new to Melee and just looking to get started, welcome! We recommend you go to https://blippi.gg/ and follow the links there based on what you're trying to set up. Additionally, here are a few answers to common questions:
Can I play Melee online?
Yes! Slippi is a branch of the Dolphin emulator that will allow you to play online, either with your friends or with matchmaking. Go to https://slippi.gg to get it.
Netplay is hard! Is there a place for me to find new players?
Yes. Melee Newbie Netplay is a discord server specifically for new players. It also has tournaments based on how long you've been playing, free coaching, and other stuff. If you're a bit more experienced but still want a discord server for players around your level, we recommend the Melee Online discord.
How can I set up Unclepunch's Training Mode?
First download it here. Then extract everything in the folder and follow the instructions in the README file. You'll need to bring a valid Melee ISO (NTSC 1.02)
I'm having issues with Slippi!
Go to the The Slippi Discord to get help troubleshooting.
How does one learn Melee?
There are tons of resources out there, so it can be overwhelming to start. First check out the SSBM Tutorials youtube channel. Then go to the Melee Library and search for whatever you're interested in.
But how do I get GOOD at Melee?
Check out Llod's Guide to Improvement
Where can I get a nice custom controller?
https://customg.cc/vendors
I have another question that's not answered here...
Check out our FAQs or post below and find help that way.

Upcoming Tournament Schedule:

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Make a submission to the tournament calendar here. You can also get notified of new online tournaments on the Melee Online Discord.
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Hi Trailblazers!
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** This thread is for CONFIRMED losses only. If you suspect a loss and/or have not received confirmation from your RE, then you must post in the Weekly Results Thread until confirmed **
This thread is a dedicated space for members of infertility experiencing a confirmed loss – be it a blighted ovum/anembryonic pregnancy, chemical, ectopic, molar, miscarriage, stillbirth, TFMR, or infant death. This is the space to come together and find support as you grieve, away from the maelstrom of treatment. This is not to imply that these discussions are not allowed in the treatment thread, but is a focused effort to give an additional space to our members grieving a loss. We have many spaces you can discuss a confirmed loss, but we created this space so you don't have to post where it might be hard to.
Please use this space to vent, cry, talk about how you’re coping, share your loss experience, and ask specific questions pertaining to your loss (either resolved or ongoing). Our rules around mentions of pregnancy, children, and prior success still apply in this thread.
Above all - Science minded perspective and respect for others is important here. Please treat your fellow peers with compassion.
If you are looking for further specialized support, we recommend you explore the following communities (their wikis include helpful posts on resolving your loss via multiple methods, coping with your loss, ways for you to honor your grief, and much more):
Miscarriage
ttcafterloss
babyloss
/TFMR_support

TLDR: a close friend and I are taking a class together where you basically j do a group project for a semester, its highly encouraged to have your groups figured out at least somewhat before the class starts. I was going to work w her and a few of her friends but 2 weeks before the class started her friends said I couldn’t be in the group because they needed someone with a different major and had apparently never agreed to me in the first place(some miscommunication btwn her and them). I found a new group in time but I’m still hurt, and not really sure how to address it, or if I even should.
———
So essentially, I(21NB) and my friend (21F) (who I’m p sure is also autistic) are in college together. We’ve been friends 3 years now, and were roommates in freshman year. We are part of a small, tight knit friend group that lives together, and the two of us are especially close I thought, as she is one of the people I have probably opened up with and been vulnerable with the most jn my life other than like 2 other people.
We are in the same major(unlike rest of the group) and for our major there is kind of a final project class where you work with a group and just make something for a semester.
I wanted to work with her, because I thought it would be fun, and I don’t remember much of how the convos went because I wasn’t over analyzing it because friends, but she had 2 friends she wanted to work with, and since you can have 6 people in a group there was space for me to join too.
I had another friend ask me to work with them, and I asked her if they could join, and she said there was no space because her friends had people they wanted to work with as well and they wanted people with different majors on the project, so I told the other friend no.
This was the state for about a month, until about 2 weeks before the class started, when she said her group mates had talked and told her they needed to find another person of a different major, and when she asked about me(because we wouldn’t have space for me and another new person), they said they had never agreed to me joining in the first place (she had asked them in the beginning and thought they had said yes and then never confirmed anything with them when I confirmed I would be joining). This was a problem, because we were supposed to have groups figured out prior to starting the class, and I hadn’t been looking because I figured I already had my group.
I was obviously upset, and tried to go cry in my room lol but when I went to leave she asked to hug and then I broke and she like tried to help but I couldn’t rly explain that I felt hurt because of her so idk what I even said.
When she saw I was like really upset, she was like I can convince them to let you join again like I can fix it and I was like no I don’t want to force myself on ppl who don’t want me (ie: her) and I did eventually manage to finagle another group.
The problem is, I still feel really hurt about this, and I don’t know how to address it with her, or if I even should.
I originally was just mentally trying to drop it(I was hurt she didn’t want to leave to work with me but whatever), but when I told my parents they got really mad at her(they already didn’t like her tho but this felt different than that), so I feel like maybe it is actually a big deal and like a not great thing to do? Logically I get why she did it, a set group with people who will do work vs one person, but I just really don’t understand because I would never do that to someone I was close friends with? Someone I wasn’t that close to maybe, but if I was really close with someone I wouldn’t leave them in the lurch like that, ever, so I guess I’m just questioning our friendship and if she actually cares or I’ve been misreading it? Or if I need to take a step back? (The ppl she is in a group w was one friend she hangs out with outside of studying maybe a couple times a semester, and someone else she has said she doesn’t consider a friend they just work well on projects together, so I’m like do I mean less to you than that?(I know it’s not that, they’ve j done projects together before that worked well, but that’s what it feels like lol))
I know it’s probably because we were raised very differently, I was raised to feel like I needed to have friends, and also to be loyal to your friends because it’s the right thing to do even if it’s not what you might want to do in the moment, but she was raised in a more individualistic style where you focus on yourself and friends are there when you need them but like the focus is on you and what’s best for you. There’s nothing wrong w that obvi, but because I wouldn’t have approached this situation the way she did (I would have left the group with friend, or tried harder to get my other friends to see the situation since I had committed already, or at least taken some time to think about it myself or talk it over with someone to figure out what to do about it).
So essentially, should I talk to her about it, and if so, what do I even say? I don’t want to j make her feel bad, she j approaches it differently it’s not wrong, but like it hurt me idk
(My parents have also said it seems like she didn’t want to work with me at all the whole time she just was like whatever because I was asking a lot, because I think I had to ask her first and like she didn’t join the same section as me for the class she waited for her friends sections first, and I can’t remember whether she invited me or I asked, etc. I assumed she wanted to work with me because she had been really enthusiastic about it freshman year, but I guess things change, which is totally fine I just wish she would have told me if that was the case, rather than going along with it and then dropping me at the last minute, but it’s not like I can ask her did you actually want to work w me or was it j bcuz I kept asking because the situations over now so she’d prob j say she did regardless).
(Something I’m quite worried about is that, I probably missed these big cues about she didn’t actually want to work with me the whole time, so what else have I been missing in our friendship? I talked to one of my other friends(her gf) about it in vague terms and she said original friend does consider me a close friend and is v picky about her friends lol so I think I’m prob good on still friends point but the situation still kinda hurt me and I don’t understand it.)

Our community threads are the heart of our subreddit and operate much like a specialized support group – we share our experiences and strive to collectively support one another on the topic at hand.
Please use this space for sharing and discussing any type of treatment, trying to conceive, or family building measures. This includes, but is not limited to:

• Advice / Updates on current treatment cycle or planned/future treatment cycles
• Questions / Discussion about medications, treatment, diagnostic tests, and lab results
• Any measures taken/evaluated to improve treatment outcomes – supplements, diet, exercise, etc
• Seeking emotional support related to upcoming treatment, treatment outcomes, infertility diagnosis, and confirmed loss
• Commiseration and venting related to treatment
• Supporting and cheering on fellow members as they run the gauntlet of infertility treatments

Essentially, if you mention treatment, TTC, or family building measures – it goes in this thread.
​
A few notes:

• Positive HPT or Beta Results (including Beta Hell) should only be posted in the Results thread as per the rules (except for confirmed loss): https://www.reddit.com/infertility/search?q=flair_name%3A%22Results%22
• We recognize that the AM/PM distinction doesn’t match up with every time zone in our global community, we ask that you pick the most recently posted thread wherever you are.
• Standalone culture here is saved for complex topics, usually including detailed conversations around scientific studies, or asking multi-part complex questions around treatment plans. We strongly recommend posting in the community threads first. If you aren’t sure, ask in the daily threads first!

Above all - Science minded perspective and respect for others is important here. Please treat your fellow peers with compassion.

*** Comments mentioning anything related to treatment, trying to conceive, or family building measures in this thread will be removed via our OFF TOPIC rule. Consider if you were taking a break from treatment because you were exhausted and sad - treatment (yes anything related to it) goes in treatment **\*
Coping with infertility is complex, and it is our imperative to create places where we can honor the distinctly unique needs created by infertility. Sit beside us and share what’s on your mind and going on in your life. This is a great place to get to know your fellow members outside the gravity of treatment. Discussion here includes, but is not limited to:

• Venting about the impact of infertility on our lives/relationships/careers
• Non-IF Rants of all kind – marriage, career, societal, social media, friendships, mental health, and yes… politics too. It doesn’t need to be infertility related!
• Discussions around dealing with the influence of infertility – therapy, coping methods, finding supportive friends, getting lapped by a friend, dealing with pregnancy announcements, pushy parents, people that don’t understand, etc. The big picture stuff.
• Sharing stories and parts of your life (pictures of pets always welcome!) outside of infertility

​
Example of the difference between the Treatment and Chat Thread:
Comments for the Treatment Thread

• Literally anything that involves or mentions treatment, trying to conceive, or any family building measures: paying for it, being exhausted by it, fighting about it, telling other people about it. If anything about your comment has anything to do with treatment or TTC, it belongs in the treatment thread. Also including diagnostic tests, medication, lab results, or lifestyle measures taking in the hopes of improving treatment outcome.
  • I'm in the TWW, and I'm glad I scheduled a vacation as a distraction!
  • I'm trying to decide if I should delay my egg retrieval cycle because this is a big work month for me.
  • I told my parents about IVF, and they were incredibly supportive. I feel really grateful.

Comments for the Chat Thread

• You can of course still discuss infertility in the chat thread:
  • I am super bummed about being lapped by a friend.
  • I have two currently pregnant coworkers, and I am losing my mind with all the pregnancy discussion.
  • Today is the anniversary of my loss, and I'm really struggling.
• Or you can discuss things unrelated to infertility:
  • Whoa, my dogwalker taught my dog to roll over.
  • There's this donut place next to my work that sells donuts for $5 each, but the WILD thing is that they're worth it!
  • My spouse and I are planning a trip to Europe. Opinions on Italy vs Greece?

A few notes:

• Positive HPT or Beta Results (including Beta Hell) should only be posted in the Results thread as per the rules (except for confirmed loss): https://www.reddit.com/infertility/search?q=flair_name%3A%22Results%22
• We recognize that the AM/PM distinction doesn’t match up with every time zone in our global community, we ask that you pick the most recently posted thread wherever you are.
• Standalone culture here is saved for complex topics, usually including detailed conversations around scientific studies, or asking multi-part complex questions around treatment plans. We strongly recommend posting in the community threads first. If you aren’t sure, ask in the daily threads first!

Above all - Science minded perspective and respect for others is important here. Please treat your fellow peers with compassion.
Last reminder - this is the CHAT thread. Not the place to discuss anything focused on treatment, TTC, or family building measures.

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Chapter 1: the event
It was the fall of my intern year as I bean my off service trauma rotation. This month was ubiquitously notorious for being the most labor intrusive and least productive rotaion of our emergency medicine program. Knowing this I entered with the intention of simply surviving the month.
Another intern and I let’s call them A for sake of ambiguity, we’re the first emergency medicine residents to roste on the trauma services that year. A shaky start would be an understatement. In the words of chance the raper “like my grama with the Parkinson’s playing operation.” Would better describe it. Medically we did well. We were very competent and completed our work daily, but communication and coordination was non existent. Our Cheifs had informed us that Tuesday was our day of and the Trauma cheif residents had minimum communication with us, or our Cheifs as it seams when A and I did not report on Tuesday they sternly made their dissatisfaction known.
I have struggled with insomnia sense the age of 10. Had 2 sleep studies by this point in my life and been prescribed nearly every sleeping aid on the market. The 80-94 hr work weeks of our trauma rotaion only worsened my insomnia. My lack of sleep likely contributed to a less than prime adaptive immune system and 2 days out of my trauma rotaion I contracted strep like symptoms with associated nausea, requiring me to call for a sick day the next day. No the first day that I felt too ill to work. I was not fully aware of the reporting process. I reported to my Chiefs, but I did not believe I could come to work tomorrow with amble time and notice, however I was somewhat delayed in letting their Cheifs know, because the surgical chiefs rotated every few days and I did not know who my was going to be the next day. The second day which I had to call out sick I was able to locate the cheif for the next day and reprot according to our university’s protocol, which requires that if a resident feels they are not fit for work they must not come in and the university must have staff coverage without any fear or implementation of punitive actions.
I had finally survived to the last week of my trauma rotaion and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. What I could not see was the pile of stress, shitty diet, lack of mental well ness and sleep deprivation which I was pushing down to reach the light. By this time I had seen a psychiatrist regularly for sleep medication. I had mentioned to him that I had been experiencing more stressed lately and feel that I might be depressed. he reassured me that it was likely only due to my circumstances, given the difficulty of the trauma rotation and wish to reassess once the rotation was over. Looking back I had to fill the habit of drinking more than I usually do. My only on nights before I have days off became 1-2 beers every other night. All of this repressed unhealthy shit finally pushed bad on September 23rd. That night I was at work even later than usual, I stayed up later than usual and couldn’t seem to fall asleep. With the stress of only having minimal sleep and knowing I only had 2 more days of trauma left, I took an extra dose of my sleeping medication.
I opened my eyes to the fighting sight of sun beaming in my window and I instantly knew I was late. (Sense I hadn’t seen the sun in a month) . Due to my need for scrupulous sleep hygiene I have been sleeping with my phone of and away for me. I rushed to grab it and watched as the little Apple logo seamed to glow on the screen for an eternity. Then in conjunction with its fading I saw 3 missed calls from my director, a text from college A and 2 missed calls from the surgical director. Still, I was able to calm myself, knowing that resident A had been late to this rotation by a few hours 2 other days and nothing came of it. I called my director back and he asked me to report to his office where I was greeted by my director, my coordinator and another emergency medicine facility.
With the only explanation of: “we just want you to get better”, I was handed a letter, to my relief it did not entail my termination, but a declaration of administrative leave and a requirement to undergo an evaluation at a well known university in Florida.
Lake any other savvy millennial, I did my research. By research I mean numerous google searches and screeches thru the depts of redit. To my dismay I discovered that in order for a residency program to fire you, they must first initiate an administrative suspension. I would soon find out however, being terminated would have been a delightful outcome compared to what ensued.
I spend the next few weeks in the wallos of regret and depression. I indulged in higher qualities of alchohol then I ever have before. I all but ceased communing with peers, and abruptly stoped any physical activity I had once enjoyed. Frightened as I was I was ensured, it will be ok “we just want you to get better”
Chapter 2 The evaluation : guilty until proven innocent I did exactly as instructed and scheduled an evaluation, I supposed that this was either a mental evaluation to assess if I’m fit for work with plans of termination or it actually was an evaluation to better treat my insomnia. To this day I regret my ignorance, and wish I had researched the process more. The Hindi / sand-skrt idea of Hamsa 🪬 is that in order to do any good you must have full knowledge or else good intentions can result in harm. I truely believe my director had good intentions, however but him and I did not have full knowledge of the nature of this evaluation.
Looking back see how easily I could have avoided my troubles by asserting legal aid at this point or even by researching this evaluation process more in depth. If one searches impaired practitioner program which I now know this evaluator works for, the search entire will populate 5 or 6 layferms along side their home website and there is a valid reason for this.
If one every finds themself in this process I employ you to bring a DSM to your evaluation or at least be familiar with the most common use disorders in the DSM-5, because your evaluation will turn into a dance of questions where the evaluator attempts to trap you in a round about way to stating something that may qualify for one of the diagnosis. I have provided an image from the DSM-5 below outlining AUD, which the evaluator concluded that I had the most severe from:
Image
Example***** Here are 10 examples of how he fraudulently assessed me taken directly from his assessment note.

1. Evaluator: Have you ever stoped drinking in the last year.

Me: yes I stoped every week day, I was only drinking on the weekends, until two weeks ago.
-Evaluator uses stoping and starting every week to qualify for 2 or more unsuccessful attempts to stop in the last year “There is a persistent desire or unsuccessful efforts to cut down or control alcohol use.”

1. Evaluator Have you ever had withdrawal symptoms

Me no
Evaluator Well Have you ever had a hangover? You know that’s a from of acute withdrawal
Me: yes in college, I had a few but that was years ago and I’m pretty sure the pathophysiology is different.
Evaluator uses this to count for withdrawal symptoms even tho is was more than a year ago

1. Evaluator: Have you even taken your sleeping medication on a day or night which you drank? Me: Yes, I took my prescriptions are prescribed but I never drank close to bed

Evaluator: qualified this as dangerous behavior with alcohol (where the DSM gives examples such as unprotected sex and drunk driving). The sleeping medication I was on is not a benzodiazepine therefore it is not deadly with alcohol. I personally have seen many patients in the ED who have taken their entire bottle of the medication and drank copious amounts, we just monitor them over night and rehydrate them

1. Evaluator Has anyone told you you drink to much or been worried about you Me: No I drink much less than my friends

Evaluator what about your girlfriend? Me: well she actually doesn’t drink at all she doesn’t like it. She often buys me beer for The Weeknd’s tho. One time we went to a movie and she got a little irritated because I waited for beer then complained about them not having any craft beer. So she said, “you couldn’t have just said no” and drank something else. However, she apologized after and said it’s worth waiting if it’s my only day off.
Evaluator said this qualifies for continued drinking despite causing significant relation consequences, ie divorce.

1. Evaluator : you have sleep issues I hear, and your chart says you’ve had depression in the past, don’t you know that alcohol can effect your sleep and mood Me: yes that’s why I never drink within 3 hours of sleep.

Evaluator but you knew this and still drank
Evaluator: qualifies for drinking despite unwanted physical or psychological effects (this should be recurring to effects the alcohol is causing, I have had insomnia sense the age of 10 long before I took my first sip)
7 evaluator you were late for work and told my you had a drink the day before
Me: Yes but I was late because I didn’t sleep and took double my sleeping meds, I will never do that again
Qualifies for 2 significant work or school issues in the past year ( a therapist and other psychologist ensured me that being late on or a few days doesn’t count they typically are getting fired or failing) ( moreover, this would assume I was late do to drinking it’s self and also assume if happened more than once)

1. • Alcohol is often taken in larger amounts or over a longer period than was intended

He never once asked anything related to this question yet said I qualified in his final report 9. A great deal of time is spent in activities necessary to obtain alcohol, use alcohol, or recover from its effects. The evaluators logic here was sense I was late for work and I had 2 beers the day before I must be taking long to recover from it (this is assuming I missed due to alcohol)

1. Tolerance drinking more to require the same effect: this he checked as true in his final note however it was never even discussed in our evaluation. I did mention to him that I’ve been drinking more than I had earlier in the year frequency wise, but they said nothing to do with quantity or needing more.
   
2. Wanting to drink so bad you can not think of anything else: this is the only qualification of SAUD my evaluator said I did not have.
   

Moreover, without legal help I was not aware that I could obtain a second evaluation or even oppose going to get evaluated at all, but that wouldn’t have mattered seeing I still thought this was for my health and wellbeing as seen when I was asked why do you think you are here to today, to which I replayed “so that I can be evaluated to see what is needed to get back to work”.
To maks the ordeal more infuriating the evaluator continues to ingratiate himself and lie through the process telling you, “it will be fine as long as you are 100% honest”, “anything you say in here is between you and me” or “you slipped up once with your meds, I know your residnecy program they will probably just want a few more out patient tests”
Two weeks later I received a phone call right before I left for an out of state vacation to visit my nice for her birthday. During the call I was informed that I would be required to complete a partial hospitalization program (PHP) lasting “6-10 weeks” which would coast from 15-50 grand not including doctor visits or housing which is billed separately. I suppressed this inconvenience, enjoyed my vocation and reported when I returned, knowing that I must complete this soon so I may return to work with due to the fact that my payed time off would soon be diminished. At this time I had not yet heard of the organization PRN.
Chapter 3 Guilty till proven innocent: The diagnosis
Shell shocked I arrived to a in patient psychiatric unit and was rapidly cleared to progress to treatment without detoxification. During my 90 day of forced rehabilitation I met a few other individuals who were unjustly and fraudulently forced into treatment. I began to look up to one of these such members of the men’s community, who I will refer to as patient X for ambiguity sake.
Unlike me patient X did have alcohol use disorder. He spent many clinic days drinking to avoid alcoholic withdraws. The curious component of his story is that he admitted his depravity, saught help and through his own journey became sober. The bodies at be, namely his local physician, Health monitoring program, rejected his personal path to sobriety and forced him to undergo 90 days of in patient treatment before he could practice medicine again. When he checked in to rehab he had been sober for over a year.
Ask for Stories of people from online
As for me I spend many sleepless nights pondering how consuming a legal substance in a moderate amount could throw me into significant legal financial issues. My labs my toxicology, my story and my collateral from colleagues from colleagues all indicated light to moderate alcohol use but my evaluators word stood as the word of God.
More frightening was the director of this rehabs acknowledgment of this. The director who happens to also coincidentally be the evaluator, stated to me as well as to staff on multiple occasions: “ I suggest inpatient treatment for everyone who is reported”. “This is safer for me not to miss anyone who could harm patients, and I figure there must be a reason someone reported them.”
I am still elucidating the reason why I was determined guilty and proven innocent, however I can say from my 90 day stent that the majority of the patients at this rehab needed to be there. This program is saving lives of both providers and patients, however it is destroying the lives of those wrongfully accused.
Chapter 4 your lisense rehab or jail : Upon arivil I was sent to a detox hospital underwent a medical examination and was “one of the lucky ones” who required no detoxification and could report directly to PHP. Like everyone else, I spent 90 days in a PHP, being as 6-10 weeks is simply a lie they tell patients to decrease the change of resisting the treatment. When discussing the topic one therapist sated “if we told patients 90 days they would never come.” She then attempted to justify the treatment by outlining the story of a patient she had called who “didn’t make it to treatment” and killed themselves”. It is my belief that it is not the lack of PHP which impelled such professionals to take their life, but them realizing that they now will be obliged to undergo 90 days of PHP, 5 years of PRN monitoring with a loss of autonomy and hundreds of thousands of dollars taken from them that induced their hopelessness. For even if these professionals were truly mentally unstable in their addictions, in every case it was only following a phone call where they were informed they must undergo treatment that they took their life’s. By this time I still haven’t the slightest clue what PRN was.
Despite the security these programs provide for many my 6 main issues with them can be summarized in : 1. Kick backs: evaluators are directors of treatment clinics 2. The reported are guilty till proven innocent 3. The price, the overflow of money these places drag in from both patients and state universities is appalling, they charge separately for every visit and test 4. Although they make the claim that they are individualized, they are anything but. Every patient gets the same stay and treatment from the doctor drunk on the job and the one who was late to a shift 5. They force voluntary treatment. remember that friendly evaluator who promised he had your best interest at heart, so you opened up and told him everything about your substance use/ developmental / family history, well if you don’t stay for 90 days he will be “normally obliged” to tip the board of medical off to you.

1. The programs have overstepped their intended jurisdiction. -these programs work well if they function how they were intended at their inception. Cite original purpose. Originally these programs were designed to protect physicians and civilians from impaired practitioners; being healthcare workers who were impaired at work. Over the years, these organizations have extended their authority to encompass individuals with substance use disorders When not at work and also those who are in training to become healthcare professionals. Take for example myself compared to a physician who is impaired at work. A doctor who arrived for duty under the influence would surely benifit from the extensive testing, therapy and accountability enforced via these programs. In accordance the 20,000$ per year cost is appropriate when only making up roughly 7% of their yearly salary vs nearly half of a residents. In my case with my loss of income from employment, coast of treatment and monitoring, this year I will be required to pay 20,000$ to work. Yes, I will be losing money to work. Even if did indeed have a substance use disorder this level of monitoring wouldn’t not be considered appropriate.

Dispite all of the miscomings of this System My time spend in PHP was indeed helpful, as I believe it would be for anyone. Time for exercise, a reprieve from work and weekly counseling. A sample structure of my day to day schedule is provided below for insight:
Structure The general structure of these rehabitation centers is as follows: 1. One week of orientation phase, where you are not allowed in electronics or contact with the outside world world. Therefore, if you’re going, bring some things you would like to read or study. 2. In phase 2, you can use your phone however you cannot leave campus. You must stay in the dorm on campus. These shitty 1 room run down apartments with two other roommates will cost you about $1000 a week, they are required for at least four weeks and they are billed separately, no insurance will help you out here. 3. In phase 3 you can commute to campus if you beg your therapist and live very close. Whether you’re on campus or living off-campus, you are allowed to leave up to four hours per day. If you commute, you’ll be required to take a sober link decide you must Breath, alcohol test into every 6 hours. Like everything else in this program you must pay for this separately, a few hundred dollars a week. You advanced to other phases by completing assignments, however, assignments are limited by required built-in time, intrusive, scheduling, and reviewing. Therefore, if you do everything as rapidly as possible phase 1 will take one week phase 2 will take three weeks.
Every day schedule:
7:30: wake up, report to the front desk to inform them that you haven’t ran away yet and take and prescribed medications. They keep all your medications and require that you report to take them; for me this was antidepressants in an attempt to dispel the depression I contracted from being forced into treatment and whatever off label medication they were attempting to treat my ADHD with, since control medications were forbidden.
8 am: community group assessments This consisted of other patients presenting their assignments amongst the large group, on the weekends this was often an hour later and 12 study regularly took the place of assignment presentation.
10 am: process group. This was a two hour group therapy session with 6 to 12 other professionals in a therapist and training or occasionally a licensed mental health therapist.
1 pm: recreation This was generally about an hour of some sober themed craft or activity. Once a week this time slot was used for yoga.
2 pm: this was another time slot used for patients to present assignments as well as for individual therapy sessions. Each patient had one individual therapy session lasting 30 minutes per week.
3pm: This was time allotted to work on assignments or go to the gym on your sex specific scheduled gym day.
5pm: this time was used for guest speakers or another 12 step study group.
6 pm : this was generally an off-campus 12 step group
10 pm: report to the front desk and let them know you still haven’t ran away and take and Medication which are prescribed to take at night, then return to your cot bed in your room with 1-2 other roommates.
I found the community to be one of the most beneficial aspects of the PHP program. I was in a cohort of chill ass professionals of the same occupation who were always there to help each other.
Assignments The curriculum of the PHP consisted of assignment based on every step of the 12th step program. Generally, a patient would be required to complete an assignment on their own, review it with other patients, then faculty and finally present the assignment in front of the whole treatment group. You’re only given one assignment at a time and there are multiple steps to each which all requires scheduling this ensures that no matter how determined a patient is a full 90 days of treatment is required to complete all the assignments.
AA structure -the obsolete nature of AA has been verified in numbers studies, but I will refrain from divulging here and lend that endeavor to Dr. Lance Dodes very thorough discussion on the subject,in “the sober truth “
In all sincerity, if I truely did have a severe use disorder this experience could have been life saving. I only wish I could have used my 50 grand for someone who has spent their life time In addictive without reprieve. My first conversation when I was given my phone back was how I wish my father could be able to attend this PHP.
Chapter 5 reporting and PRN Self reporting What they ask you What you should tell them
There’s a third-party agency called professional resource network. Every state has their own. This agency works as a liaison between you and whatever credentialing service your occupation requires. Essentially they ensure your monitoring after treatment. Stake governments and licensing boards trust them, mainly because they monitor with the highest level of intrusiveness. This alleviates much work for state governments and licensing boards because once an individual is being monitored by a professional resource network, then they are deemed appropriate for duty and no further investigation/litigation needs to occur, as long as the monitored individual completely complies.
Because I was never impaired at work I was never reported to this agency. The general workflow of things someone would report you to professional resource network, then the resource network would contact you, and then you would be required to report for an evaluation at a treatment center, which would inevitably result in a suggestion I’ve treatment at that given treatment center. In my case I was sent to the treatment center without PRN being involved. Thus, two weeks into treatment. I was notified by my therapist that I needed to call PRN and self report. I attempted to resistance given that I did not have a problem and was not individually seeking help. I asked what happened if I didn’t self report. I was told that in order to stay in the treatment program I had to report to PRN. This meant either I report to PRN or I get kicked out of the treatment program and lose my job.
When you report to PRN they will ask you why you are in treatment. They will then list off every substance imaginable, asking you if you have ever tried the substance and when your last use was. Ultimately, they will obtain your discharge information from your treatment center, so it is in your best interest to report only what was found in your biochemical testing. If it wasn’t in your hair, I would argue that you don’t have a use disorder regarding that substance and it’s not relevant. I don’t believe it’s important for them to know that you smoked weed when you were 12.
Chapter 6 The contract:
Before being discharged from a treatment facility, a professional resource network will have you sign a contract. A little known fact which I was oblivious to is that contracts can be negotiated. Though this isn’t it possible, it is highly improbable that you can negotiate your contract since PRN has a power to delay your clearance to return to work.
Contractor almost never personalized, and I have not heard of a contract which is not a five-year agreement. You will sign releases of information so that PRN has access to all of your information which was gathered at the treatment facility. You must have a therapist, psychiatrist, primary care, doctor, and a addiction, medicine psychiatrist. You assign releases of information for all of them. You will be required To commit to: 1. three mutual aid meetings a week which you must log. I log smart recovery meetings. 2. Weekly therapy sessions with an approved mental health therapist from their list 3. Monthly doctors appointments with an addiction medicine psychiatrist 4. Yearly appointments with a primary care physician 5. Monthly appointments with a psychiatrist 6. Daily check-ins on a random drug testing app ( you will agree to weekly urine tests, a peth test 4 times a year, a hair test twice a year and a little caveat that says anything else they deem, clinically reasonable) 7. Quarterly update reports which you are required to obtain from a workplace monitor, therapist, addiction, medicine, psychiatrist, primary care physician and any other doctor you are seeing. 8. You must upload all of your prescriptions into a mobile application every single time you get them refilled and are not allowed to take them until they are approved. 9. Attendance of a PRN group via zoom. This is a local group you are assigned along with other monitored practitioners. There is a fee of roughly 130$ a month to attend this required group. For me all of these requirements coast around 20,000 a year. If you ever have a positive test even if it is the result of contamination from rubbing alcohol or unintentional ingestion of alcohol/ allergy medication your contract will rest to 5 years from the time of positive test. Once your five year contract is completed, you must ask to be released from monitoring. At that point they will search for any reason to keep you under monitoring. This could be dilute urines, daily check ins or a week where you did not attend mutual aid meetings. Every certification and license which you apply for will likely ask you if you were under a monitoring program/ have been treated for substance use. You must give an explanation and check yes. As far as licensing programs are concerned, if you were under the monitoring of PRN, you are safe, however they group practitioners who have had behavioral issues with practitioners who were diverting drugs from work. Therefore, keep in mind that you will be labeled as a sever addict.
7 Back to work and only work. During treatment your only goal is to return to work, however when you return your experience will be drastically distinct from what you remember. For me, I was now working in isolation. Missing six months of my training meant that no other Resident was on the same rotation as me. My coworkers at all formed friend groups. When I returned I was greeted with much concern for my well being. No one would speak to be about my absence, however everyone knew there is only one reason a resident would leave for 6 months then return. My Accdeemic meetings were consisting of attending telling me “I have a target on my back now” and “ I have to preform even better than others” in the light of my time missed. If this wasn’t alienating enough, the majority of Resident events, sponsored by recruiters and my university revolved around alcohol to which I had to give some excuse to why I can not partake with others. I’m fortunate that I do not have an addiction, because these stressful conditions along with the daunting amount of dead and requirements imposed by PRN are enough to make any addict relapse. While I was at treatment, I was in the dative with Samyr stories a physicians whose addictions got the best of them. Physicians who did not make it to treatment, often taking their own life. These stories were presented as a warning. Your addictions will kill you without our treatment was the message. When, in reality I did not hear one story in which the addiction killed physician. Every physician who didn’t make it to treatment took their life after being told they must report to a treatment facility. Perhaps they knew what this entailed and it was not their addiction or getting caught which caused them to end their lives, but the unmanageable and often unreasonable burden that treatment would put on their lives.
9 How to escape So your fucked your in PRN and should be or you should and now your recovered and want to terminated your contract.

1. You ask to be released early done at 1/2 time ( good luck)
2. You have “good reason” (no one has ever been let out of contract because of this reason, the verbiage is far too vague)
3. You serve all your time and they let you out(maybe, as discussed earlier, they would do everything they can to keep you in your contract as long as your practicing)
4. You can’t practice medicine anymore

10 Layer up butter cup : I cannot emphasize the extent to which legal help is required in this process. You much seek it and seek it early. Lawyers can provide many avenues to you early in the process. Once you have committed to treatment, gone for evaluation or are in a PRN contract , this is very little that you or legal help can do. Spend a few thousand dollars when you are accused and save the 20-30,000 later.
After you have been evaluated if you disagree as I did, then this is the process you must undergo. 1. Hire a occupation, defense, lawyer 2. Prove you don’t have an addiction, this is done by having an alternative evaluator with similar credentials state that either you don’t have an addiction or that PRN’s level of monitoring is not medically appropriate ( this will need to be a multi day neuropsychological evaluation, which will cost about $5000). 3. Your lawyer must draft in writing that the medical level of monitoring is not required such as another medical professional and send this to PRN 4. PRN will tattle on you to the board of medicine. 5. The board of medicine will conduct an investigation. 6. At the end or when they believe they have enough reasonable evidence to the board of medicine will suspend your license or claim, you must comply with the PRN contract to practice. 7. At this time your lawyer will defend you in the state court against the board. This is costly but much less than the coast of a 5 year PRN contract 8. If you win you will likely suggest an alternative level of care such as gonna get therapy every week. If you lose, than you wasted a fuck ton of money and are still bound by your PRN contract.
Overall this entire process has coast me Over all coast:
My finances for this year only including PRN and rent are as follows:
120-200$ every week for testing 480-800/ month
65 every week for therapy 195/month
125 every month for PRN group
About 50-69 every month for 2 doctor apts
So at least 745$/month at the lowest
Treatment at the recovery center coast 20,000 for me out of pocket and
I wasn’t payed for 6 months with no FMLA because I am a first year. At the 1 year mark I will have made 26,000 this year after taxes And payed About 29,000 on PRN alone
Rent is 1,000 so that’s 12,000 a year
Just in rent and PRN alone I will be at 26,000- 41,600 -15,600.
I will be in debt by at least 18,000 at the 1 year mark
Coast of treatment center 20,000 (with insurance) For each year of PRN roughly 20,000 Add that to 6 months of attending salary which was delayed due to my treatment time: at least 150,000 Layer coasts along with other evaluations 25,000 Missing 6 months of residency pay 30,000 Coast of 1 year in monitoring: 245,000 Coast of 5 years 325,000
If my case progress to a trail I will require an extra 20,000 in court coasts
Chapter 11 My secondary eval: Dr sushi After I arrived at my treatment center I challenge my evaluation multiple times. Each and every time I was discharged and often accused of alternate mental health/ substance abuse issues to discourage my advances. I was never given the opportunity to undergo alternative assessment, however PRN guidelines state that you can obtain a second option within 7 days of your first. This is a mute point, however, because you will not receive the results of your evaluation until over a week after it is conducted and the second evaluation must be conducted by another PRN hired evaluator of their choosing. During my stay in rehab I contacted PRN multiple times to attempt another evaluation/ legal help. They warned against both stating they were a “waste of money” and “pointless”.
After completing my treatment with the guidance of many addiction, experienced physicians, mental health counselors and psychiatrists recommendations I sought in a secondary evaluation. I chose a highly qualified professional with over 30 years of experience to conduct an extensive neuo psycho social evaluation of me. One that I was sure would be more extensive than the evaluation I received at treatment and more importantly an unbiased evaluation.
The results from my evaluation not only showed that I did not have a substance abuse problem warranting PRN level monitoring, but also that PRN was falling to allow adequate treatment of other conditions such as my ADHD. My evaluation showed my ADHD was not only untreated by PRNs attempt at using non controlled medication, but also in the top 3% most severe presentations of ADHD. My evaluator went on to explain my results by questioning why my treatment center even mandated I undergo neuro cognitive evaluation. The only neurodiverse findings were my IQ, my dyslexia and my ADHD. However, a neuo cognitive examination can be billed separately by treatment centers, therefore they always recommend one.
Chapter 12 Amongst its greed, intrusive nature and faulty accusations, professional recourse network function highly proficiently at the task they were designed to; protective physicians and patients from physicians who are impaired at work. In this domain they save lives, offer second changes and protect the public. When they act beyond their intended jurisdiction by imposing unnecessary monetary demands on practitionersin training, accuse practitioners without proof or act on behavior exemplified outside of a work setting they unjustly and inappropriately attack the week and innocent.
Proposed reform: As a trainee my universities malpractice insurance covers me for mistakes made at work. If a learner mistakenly harms a patient, then the university stands on their behalf. If the learner does something wrong under a teachers direct guidance, then the teacher is at fault. This makes sense logically as well as pragmatically. The state entrusts large amounts of money to hospital systems and universities to train resident physicians. A portion of this money is allocated to malpractice insurance. This should extend to accused impairment.
Suppose a training university was required to cover rehabilitation and monitoring of a resident of whom they claim is impaired. Alternatively they have the option of firing the trainee. This would reduce the number of innocent trainees being accused of impairment, make the process of rehabilitation more fair and provide a better use for tax payer derived dollars, which hospital systems are given to train residents. The truly impaired could still seek help, less false accusations would be made and with the employers having the ability to fire at the moment of impairment, there would be less chance of impairment at work.

I have a genuine question. In my head it makes sense that even a married couple should have separate rooms if possible. Sometimes you need your own private space. A space to release your own energy, emotions or any matters you want to deal with personally. Maybe even sleep on your own once in a while.
I tried asking my social circle and I was met by strong pushbacks. I understand their point. A marriage is a union, where your relationship grows stronger and closer. But maybe I don’t get it. Why can’t married couples have that but not take away from privacy and individuality. I guess my thought is, you can sleep in separate beds from time to time but still be in a healthy and thriving unity.
I read in a research paper that it can be healthy to have a separate space from time to time to allow for yearning of the other body to grow. So I guess to me, I really do like the idea of sharing a roof together but having a common as well as separate rooms.
I’m by no means married, or at least not for now, but, if I do get married, i quite like to adopt this idea.

I thought I would ask another question as something has been on this health anxiety person's mind lately.
I had a root canal done on one of my main top incisors 6 years ago. The root had developed a cyst. For a little while after the procedure, I would get this strange "sensation" when I would push on the roof of my mouth with my tongue in the spot where the root of the root canaled tooth is. I could also trigger this sensation by pushing, with my finger, above my upper lip that is on the opposite side of the tooth.
It is NOT pain of any kind. Just like a slight nerve feeling that lasts for a second with the pressure. This "sensation" has followed me for six years and sort of comes and goes when I am thinking about it. Like I said it is not painful. Just that slight tingle when I put pressure on the roof of my mouth in that spot.
Does this make any sense? Is it anything to worry about? Have other root canal folks had something similar? Is this my health anxiety amplifying something because I am thinking about it too much? Thank you for your thoughts. Hopefully I am not coming across like a crazy health anxiety person.

There is any extra-questions I should consider asking before taking this offer? What do you think?
1. PERSONALIA

• Age: 36
• Education: PhD Machine Learning
• Work experience : 6 years
• Civil status: Single
• Dependent people/children: 1

2. EMPLOYER PROFILE

• SectoIndustry: Consultancy
• Amount of employees: 10-20 in company, 1-150 in the group it's a part of
• Multinational? YES

3. CONTRACT & CONDITIONS

• Current job title: AI engineer, but it's more a blend of AI and data engineering
• Seniority: ?
• Official hours/week : 38
• Average real hours/week incl. overtime: 40
• Shiftwork or 9 to 5 (flexible?): 9 to 5, should also be flexible
• On-call duty: NO
• Vacation days/year: 32 (20 legal holidays, 12 compensation days, 10 Belgian Public Holidays)

4. SALARY

• Gross salary/month: 4500
• Net salary/month: should be around 2900
• Netto compensation: 115
• Mobility budget/cabike/...: €450 net/month leasing budget for+ card
• 13th month: Full
• Meal vouchers: 6
• Group insurance: Included
• Other insurances: Included
• Other benefits: Sectorpremium Industry Committee 200 (what is that?)

5. MOBILITY

• City/region of work: Brussels, Depends on the customer
• Distance home-work: 60 minutes one way
• How do you commute?: Car
• How is the travel home-work compensated: company car OR public transport (even with mobility budget)
• Telework days/week: Depends on the customer, but should be 3

6. OTHER

• How easily can you plan a day off: unknown, but shouldn't be all to difficult and again, depends on the customer
• Is your job stressful? I hope not
• Responsible for personnel (reports): No

Hey all,
Long story short, I'm using a part of the Edward Conze translation of Questions of King Milinda to write a final paper on how Buddhism and Daoism handle the concept of "the self" for my Asian Philosophy class. Anyway, you can probably guess from the title that I'm struggling to understand what a certain part of it is trying to say. Here's the excerpt with the part I'm struggling with in bold:

c. Personal identity and Karma The king asked: 'Is there, Nagasena, any being which passes on from this body to another body?' 'No, your majesty!' ' If there were no passing on from this body to another, would not one then in one's next life be freed from the evil deeds committed in the past?' 'Yes, that would be so if one were not linked once again with a new organism. But since, your majesty, one is linked once again with a new organism, therefore one is not freed from one's evil deeds.' 'Give me a simile!' 'If a man should steal another man's mangoes, would he deserve a thrashing for that?' 'Yes, of course!' 'But he would not have stolen the very same mangoes as the other one had planted. Why then should he deserve a thrashing?' 'For the reason that the stolen mangoes had grown because of those that were planted.' 'Just so, your majesty, it is because of the deeds one does, whether pure or impure, by means of this psycho-physical organism, that one is once again linked with another psycho-physical organism, and is not freed from one's evil deeds.' 'Very good, Nagasenal'

I take this to mean that even though the victim of theft didn't originally plant the mangoes, they still got them from somewhere, which means harming the mango victim is by extension harming the original grower. If this is a decent take on it, that's great. But I still don't understand what that means in terms of how Buddhism "preserves karma" from "one life to the next," especially compared to Hinduism.
To be honest, I'm not even using this specific part in my paper. I just found this class extremely interesting and enriching. Really, I'm just asking for some discussion about it!

I love the idea and would use it frequently as a Jarvis type of thing. However, 40 messages is nothing in 3 hours when using voice mode. You can't use it for anything practical other than as a gimmick to ask your normal questions but with your voice.

A relationship takes 2 people to make it work.
I often always hear from women that their husband's or boyfriend's never put in work or effort into the relationship after some time, but why is they never a question of why don't women be the one to put in the effort they are asking from time to time. Assuming that they aren't already doing the vast amount of domestic labour.
For example, most women complain that their boyfriend/husband doesn't take them on dates at a certain point in the relationship. So i always ask why do you offer to take him on the date and often when I mention this its always pushed back with "are you gay" or "do you want to be the woman in the relationship " or something along those lines.
But truth be told most men would love effort as well. It's such a turnoff to be the only one doing everything in terms of maintaining the love in the relationship assuming the woman is doing all the domestic chores, to the point where you just get tired and aren't motivated to do more. Hence why at some point in the relationship men just stop trying and putting effort and then we get blamed for being 'low effort' . Its almost like a man's concerns and needs aren't put as much of a priority in the relationship and if a man requires something or voices his needs then he is toxic or low effort.
And again i making this post with the assumption that the woman isn't already doing the vast majority of the domestic chores
The other day i heard a woman complain that her husband doesn't take her on movie nights and in my mind i was like, wouldn't it be nice if the wife maybe suprised him with a movie night but i guess she didn't think to herself she also needs to put in effort as well or that her husband could be so burned out from always being expected to bend over to her all the time.
Then when the relationship is over, people primarily women will be like "oh, yah she was a good woman and he was the toxic one, he probably wasn't meeting her needs hence why she left or whatever lies they want to say"

Hodadenon: The Last One Left and the Chestnut Tree
Long ago a boy and his uncle lived together in an elm bark lodge.
The boy’s name was Hodadenon, which means “The Last One Left.”
All of the rest of his family had disappeared over the years and it was thought they had been killed by those who were ‘otgont’, possessed of wicked powers.
Each morning the uncle would feed Hodadenon and then go out of the lodge to hunt, leaving the boy by himself. Each evening he would return, again feed the boy, and then go to sleep.
One day Hodadenon was playing by himself in the lodge.
He began to think. “Enh,” he said, “why is it that I never see my uncle eat?”
Then he took a bone awl and made a small hole in the deerskin he used as a blanket each night.
“Tonight,” said Hodadenon, “I shall see what happens after we go to bed.”
That evening as always the uncle returned. He fed the boy and told him to go to sleep. Hodadenon lay down on one side of the fire and on the other side the uncle lay down on his couch, which was made of saplings and covered with many animal skins.
Pulling the deerskin over his head, Hodadenon pretended to sleep, but he could still see his uncle through the small hole he had made.
After a time, the uncle stood up and went over to the fire.
“Hodadenon,” said the uncle in a soft voice, but the boy did not answer.
Three times more the uncle called his name, but Hodadenon still pretended to sleep. Coming closer to the fire, the uncle blew very hard into it.
Sparks flew out, landing on the boy’s legs.
“Hodadenon,” said the uncle, “be careful. You are going to be burned.”
But even though some of the sparks fell on his bare skin and burned him Hodadenon did not move.
“Nyoh,” said the uncle, “the boy is indeed asleep.”
He went over to his couch and removed the skins.
He lifted off the top of the couch and took out a box made of birch bark.
All of this Hodadenon watched through the hole in his blanket.
Opening the box made of birch bark, the uncle took out a small pot.
It was so small that it fit easily in the palm of his hand.
From inside the pot he took out another object which the boy could not clearly see though it looked to be smaller than an acorn.
Using a little knife, the uncle scraped tiny shavings from the thing into the pot.
Then, putting the tiny pot over the fire, he blew on it and sang this song:
Grow, pot, grow in size
Grow, pot, grow in size
And as Hodadenon watched, the pot grew in size as the uncle sang his song and blew on it. Finally the pot was as large as a normal cooking pot and the odour of something delicious came from it.
Before long the food was ready and the uncle ate it all.
When he was through, he blew once more on the pot and sang this song:
Shrink, pot, shrink in size
Shrink, pot, shrink in size
And once again the pot became small enough to hold in the palm of his hand.
Replacing the thing he had scraped in the tiny pot, Hodadenon’s uncle replaced the pot in the birch bark box and again hid everything in the secret compartment under his couch. Then he went to sleep.
The next morning, as always, the uncle went out hunting and left the boy alone in the lodge. For a time Hodadenon played around the lodge.
He shot his small bow and arrow at a target and did other things, but the song his uncle sang to the pot kept going through his head.
Finally he could stand it no longer.
“My uncle will be back soon from his hunting,” he said. “He will be very hungry. I should prepare a meal for him.”
Hodadenon went over to his uncle’s couch, pulled off the skins and opened the compartment.
Taking out the box of birch bark, he opened it and found the tiny pot.
Within it was half of a small dry nut.
“So this is my uncle’s food,” said Hodadenon, “but it is almost gone.
If I want to make enough for him to eat, I must use it all.
I am sure he can get more.” So Hodadenon took a knife and scraped all that was left of the nut into the tiny pot.
Then, placing the pot over the fire, he blew on it and sang:
Grow, pot, grow in size
Grow, pot, grow in size
Sure enough, just as it had done for his uncle, the pot became larger.
Now it was the size of a normal cooking pot and it was boiling and boiling.
But Hodadenon was not satisfied, “surely my uncle will be more hungry than this when he comes home.
I must make more.”
Then he blew on the pot and again sang:
Grow, pot, grow in size
Grow, pot, grow in size
Now the pot was so large and bubbling so fast that Hodadenon had to stretch to stir the contents, which smelled very good indeed.
“Neh,” said Hodadenon, “this isn’t enough. What if my uncle wishes to share this good food with me.
After all, he will be grateful that I prepared it.
I must make more.”
So, once more, he blew on the kettle and sang the song.
Again the pot grew and now it was so large that Hodadenon had to stand on top of his uncle’s couch and use a canoe paddle to stir the contents, but he was so excited that he did not want to stop.
“This is almost enough for us,” he said, “but what if we should have visitors?
We should have enough to offer them as well.”
So, for a fourth time, Hodadenon blew on the pot and sang the magic song.
The pot grew so big that Hodadenon had to get out of the lodge because it filled the whole place from side to side! It was so big that the only way the boy could stir it was by taking a long pole up to the roof and reaching down to stir it through the smoke hole!
When Hodadenon’s uncle came back from hunting, the first thing he saw was the pudding bubbling out of the door of the lodge.
He heard someone singing above him and looked up.
There was Hodadenon, swinging his legs in the smoke hole, still stirring the pudding and singing happily:
What a good cook I am
What a good cook I am
We all will eat well now
What a good cook I am
“Nephew,” called the old man, “come down from there.
What you have done has killed me.”
Then Hodadenon’s uncle blew on the pot through the door of the lodge and sang the song to make it grow small.
When it was down to the size it had been at the beginning, he entered the lodge, lay down on his couch and began to weep.
Hodadenon, who had come down from the smoke hole, walked over to where the old man lay.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “what is wrong?”
“Hodadenon,” said the uncle, “you have used up all of the only food I can eat.
Now I will starve to death.
This is why I never allowed you to see me eat.
I knew that you would do this.”
“Uncle,” said the boy, “things can’t be that bad.
Just go and get another of those little nuts.”
“Neh,” said the uncle, “that is the kind of food called a chestnut.
Long ago, though it was very dangerous, I obtained that one.
All these years I have eaten it and it would have lasted for many more.
Now I am too old to get another one.”
“Wah-ah,” said Hodadenon, “this is my doing.
I shall go and bring back many chestnuts.”
“It is not possible,” said the old man.
“The way is long and guarded by many terrible creatures.
Others of your family have gone there but none have ever returned.”
Yet Hodadenon would not give up. Finally the uncle agreed to tell him the way.
“Go straight to the north, the uncle said. “There you will find a narrow path.
At its first turn it is guarded by two great rattle snakes, slaves to the evil ones who own the chestnut trees.
No one can get past them.”
“But what if I do, Uncle?” asked Hodadenon.
If anyone by good luck passes the great snakes, he will next encounter two huge hears.
They guard a passageway between the rocks.
They too are slaves of the evil ones.
They will tear apart anyone who tries to pass.
“Further on down the path are two giant Panthers which leap upon anyone who attempts to get by them. Hodadeno, it cannot be done.”
“Is that all, Uncle?” Hodadenon said.
“Is it not enough?” said the old man.
“Neh, that is only the beginning. Next is the place where the chestnut trees grow.
There live the seven sisters who own the trees.
All of them are strong in ‘otgont’ power.
If anyone comes to steal the chestnuts, they run from their long lodge and beat the person to death with their clubs.
No one can hope to go undetected, for a flayed human skin hangs in the top of a tree looking down on the chestnut grove and it sings a warning when anyone comes close.”
“Nyah-weh, Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “I thank you for your good advice.
Now I must he on my way. I shall return with the food you need if all goes well.”
Taking two sticks, he tied them together and placed them standing near the fire.
“Watch these sticks, Uncle,” said the boy. “If all is well with me they will not move, but if I am killed they will break apart.”
Now Hodadenon set out on his way.
He went straight to the north and found a narrow path.
“This must be the road my uncle told me of,” said Hodadenon. “It looks easy enough to travel.”
The boy continued along and soon the path began to twist and wind.
Ahead, it turned sharply to the left. Hodadenon stopped, crept off the path, went through the trees, and peered out cautiously.
There on either side of the path, were two great rattlesnakes, coiled and ready to strike.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “you know this road well.” He went and caught two chipmunks. Holding one in each hand he again began to walk the path.
When he came to the two rattlesnakes he threw a chipmunk into the mouth of each before they could strike him.
“Tca,” he said, “you seem to be in need of food.
Now I have given you that which you should hunt for yourselves.
Hawenio, our Creator, did not make any of his beings to be slaves. Go from this place.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the two rattlesnakes uncoiled and crawled off in different directions, leaving the road unguarded as Hodadenon went along his way.
Meanwhile, back at the lodge, the two tied sticks which had been quivering now stood still as Hodadenon’s uncle watched them intently.
Now the path entered a rocky place.
Again Hodadenon left the trail to scout ahead.
There, where the way dipped between two big boulders, were a pair of giant bears, crouched and ready to tear apart anybody who tried to go by.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “you have travelled this road before.”
He climbed a tree where he heard the buzzing of many bees, pulled out two combs of honey and went back onto the path.
When he came to the bears, he hurled the combs of honey into their mouths before they could grab him.
“Hunh,” the boy said, “it looks to me as if you were hungry.
Now I have given you that which you like best of all.
The one who gave us breath, Hawenio, did not make us to be the slaves of anyone.
Go from this place.”
At his words, the two bears turned and went away,each in a different direction as Hodadenon continued down the trail.
Meanwhile, back at the uncle’s lodge, the two tied sticks stopped quivering and Hodadenon’s uncle breathed a sigh of relief.
Now the path entered a deep forest and wound between large trees.
Leaving the trail, Hodadenon crept along till he could see the place where two huge panthers, eyes glowing like green flames, hid behind a pair of giant pines on either side of the path.
“Uncle,” Hodadenon said, “you remember your travels well.”
Taking his bow and arrows, he killed two deer.
Carrying them over his shoulders, he went down the trail once more.
Before the panthers could leap upon him, he threw each of them a deer.
“Ee-yah,” he said, “I see that you were in need of food.
Now I have given you that which you are supposed to hunt.
Know that the one who gave us strength to walk around, Hawenio, did not intend that any living creature should serve another as a slave.
Go from this place.”
In two different directions away into the trees slunk the panthers and the boy continued along his way.
Meanwhile, back at the lodge, the two sticks which had been shaking as if struck by a strong wind once more stood still as Hodadenon’s uncle watched them.
The path in front of Hodadenon was very straight and wide. It looked to have been travelled by many feet.
The boy listened very carefully and soon he began to hear a very faint song coming from the treetops.
Crawling forward through the brush, he peered up and saw the one who was singing.
It was the skin of a woman tied in the top of a tree.
This was her song:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
I am the one who sees all,
I see you
The song was very soft.
Hodadenon could barely hear it, but he knew it would grow loud indeed if she caught a glimpse of him.
Below her was a grove of trees.
They were covered with a fruit which had burrs all over it.
These, Hodadenon knew, must be the chestnuts.
Beyond the skin woman and the trees was a great pile of human bones and just to the other side of them was the long lodge of the seven witches.
“Tcu,” said Hodadenon, “now I shall need some help.”
Going to a basswood tree, he peeled a long strip of bark.
With a burned stick and the juice of berries, he decorated the piece of bark until it looked just like a long wampum belt.
Slinging it over his shoulder, he knelt down and tapped four times on the earth.
“My friend,” he said, “I am in need of help.”
Up out of the ground poked the nose and then the head of a female mole.
“Nyoh, Hodadenon! How can I help you?” asked the mole.
“Grandmother,” said the boy, “if I make myself very small, will you carry me under the earth with you?”
“That’s too easy,” said the mole. “Let’s go!”
Then Hodadenon began to rub himself with his hands.
As he did so he grew smaller and smaller until he was small enough to travel with the mole under the earth.
Down into the ground they went, coming up beneath the very tree where the Skin Woman was swaying back and forth.
Once again Hodadenon rubbed himself with his hands until he was back to normal.
Then he called up to Skin Woman.
“Sister,” he called, “I have seen you first.
Do not tell the others I am here and I will give you this fine belt of wampum.”
“Wah-ah!” said Skin Woman, “I did not see you, Hodadenon.
Give me the belt and I will not warn them you are here.”
Hodadenon tossed the belt up to Skin Woman.
She put it on and immediately it wrapped itself so tightly about her she could not speak. Under the tree, Hodadenon quickly filled his pouch with chestnuts.
Then, making himself small once more, he called for his friend, Mole, to take him back under the earth.
Up in the tree, Skin Woman finally got her breath. She began to sing:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
Someone has bribed me
I cannot say who
Out from the long lodge ran the seven witches.
Each of them carried a long club.
They ran to the place where Skin Woman hung, but they saw no one.
“Someone has been here,” said one of the witches.
“Some of our chestnuts are gone,” said another.
“Skin Woman,” said a third witch, “you are our slave.
Speak and tell us who has been here.”
But Skin Woman did not answer the question.
All she did was swing back and forth in the wind, singing this song:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
I’ve been given a wampum belt
Shining and new
“You are a fool,” said another of the witches.
“That is only the bark from a tree.”
“It must have been The Last One Left.” said the fifth witch, “the boy whose uncle stole from us long ago.”
“If he comes back,” said the sixth witch, “we will catch him and kill him.”
“Nyoh,” said the last witch, “now we must punish our slave.”
She took her club and struck Skin Woman a heavy blow.
Each of the others did the same.
Then the seven witches went back into the long lodge, leaving the Skin Woman covered with bruises, but still singing softly of her fine new belt of wampum.
Meanwhile, back in the lodge of Hodadenon’s uncle, the two sticks had fallen over on the floor.
Picking them up and standing them upright once more, the old man watched them with great concern.
From his hiding place in the earth, Hodadenon had listened to all that was said by the seven sisters. “It is not right,” he said “that those terrible creatures should go on like this.
Friend Mole, we must go back there.”
The mole dove deeper into the earth.
She carried Hodadenon under the long lodge and came up beneath the couch where the sisters slept.
There, tied to a string of sinew, were seven hearts.
Quick as a spark leaping from the fire, Hodadenon grabbed the string of hearts and ran from the lodge.
Seeing him, the seven witches grabbed their clubs and gave chase.
Now back in the lodge of Hodadenon’s uncle the two sticks fell over once more.
The old man was so disheartened that he did not stand them up again.
He lay there staring at them, certain that his nephew would now never return alive.
From the top of her tree, Skin Woman sang as the seven witches chased Hodadenon:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
Hodadenon has your hearts
This will be the end of you
Now the first witch had almost caught up with the boy and raised her club to strike him.
As she did so, Hodadenon squeezed one of the hearts on the sinew string and the witch fell dead.
Now the second witch was about to strike.
Again Hodadenon squeezed a heart and the second witch died also.
In the end, he had squeezed all seven of the hearts and all seven of the evil sisters had fallen dead.
Climbing to the top of the tree, Hodadenon cut loose the cords which held Skin Woman.
He brought her down and placed her on top of the pile of human bones.
Then he began to push against a great dead hickory tree which was near the pile.
“Get yourselves up, my relatives!” he shouted. “A tree is about to fall on you!”
Immediately Skin Woman and all of the people whose bones were piled there leaped up and came back to life.
Skin Woman was, indeed, the sister of Hodadenon.
Long ago the evil witches had caught her and the others of his family whose bones lay in that pile.
There before him were his parents, his brothers, and all his relations.
All were very happy to be alive and thanked the boy again and again.
Taking the chestnuts from the ground, Hodadenon passed them out to all his relatives.
“Plant these all over,” he said. “Food will be shared with everyone from now on.”
Finally, his pouch filled with chestnuts, Hodadenon went back to the lodge of his uncle.
The old man lay there on his couch, thin as a skeleton, his eyes fixed on the two tied sticks.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “I have returned.”
The old man jumped up and embraced the nephew.
To this day he still sits in that lodge, making chestnut pudding in his pot.
And from that time on, the chestnuts, like all the other good things given to us by Hawenio, our Creator, no longer belong to just one family, no matter how powerful they are, but are shared by all.