Hello, I am 35yo male, with no health issues and in pretty good shape. I am eating healthy but last couple of years i have terrible insomnia.. Well, it started 5 years ago after some time and some advices I got antidepressant druh (mirtazapine) which helps and I was sleeping pretty good last 2,5 years. but.. Mirtazapine is drug that changes your metabolism and makes pus*y from you.. Gaining weights despite a lot of training, crazy gaining of fat in abdominal area by just looking on some sugar etc.. Well i tappered it off few months ago. So insomnia comes back.
I have tried EVERYTHING in various doses - Theanine, glycine, all forms of Magnesium, melatonin, valerian root, apigenin, chamomile, tryptophan, bacopa, 5-htp, ZMA, taurine, B1, B6, B complex, C, E, D, well all vits.., Ashwagandha, PSerine, Lemon Balm, Omega 3, emodin, cortisol blockers and many many more..
I still use some of these in my sleep stack but it mostly works only to get me calm and helps with initial falling into sleep, it also has problems with tolerance/cycling or saturation where it after some time actually makes other thing (excitement instead of sedation), because inbalance in some vits etc.. So it is not that reliable unfortunatelly.
one of things that helped me before was Tryptophan, but again it was not reliable, it was possible to get pretty good sleep or does not work at all no matter how high dose i take.
so long story short, I have recently discovered the importance of having high carbs, low fat and low proten meal with tryptophan, ideally complex carbs to work longer. And it somehow works..
I eat (150g) of parboiled rice and kiwi 1-2h before sleep + 500mg to 1 g of Trypto.
these evening carbs seems to work not just with making serotonin (melatonin prec)itself, but even in lowering that high night cortisol which seems to be reason for night waking up.
Unfortunatelly I am not sure about this approach because of higher night insulin - insulin resistence, weight gaining, potential prediabetes etc.
What do you thing about this.

Hi!!
For a while I had constant sleep paralysis's and bad dreams and I would get 3-4 hours of sleep at night so I decided to start taking melatonin to get a good nights rest but it didn't help at all. It enhanced my dreams and didn't relax me one bit.
I take 10mg a night but ever since I did, my dreams got more vivid and worse(but I stopped experiencing SP). I was thinking about getting the L-Theanine Double Strength 200mg but I don't know if it will help me sleep better if 10mg already doesn't.
Has anyone experienced this? Any advice?

F20 with a history of iron deficiency anemia and eczema (though no flare ups in a year now), and gut issues that are currently still being checked. Not a smoker, and recently been taking some over the counter melatonin to help with sleep troubles.
I developed a painful bump on my scalp that was not itchy, but was quite sensitive to the touch. A week has passed and the bump has gone down and pain is also gone. The skin there is also slightly more pink than the rest of my scalp, but otherwise much improved.
However, I was feeling that area of the scalp when a handful of hairs from that spot seemed to fall off all at once, without any pain (around 15-20 strands). I also noticed the skin there has become completely smooth and seems to have lost some feeling. It now looks and feels like a bald spot.
I have been washing my hair roughly every other day the past few weeks, though I have had a less stringent hair washing schedule for a bit prior to this, where I was so busy on school term that I would often forget and go probably 4-5 days without a hair wash. This was an on and off problem for about a month and a half. Could that have led to this?
Overall, any idea what this could be, or what could have caused this? I am confused as this has never happened before.

The ones that are commonly available at pharmacies.

Melatonin always leaves me with black circles the next morning. Even if I only take 0.75mg, I can get 9+ hours of unbroken sleep. Usually, I just use it to reset my sleep routine, which I can tolerate for a day or two. However, I've been taking topical melatonin for my hair, and I feel it's having the similar impact.
Is this happening to anyone else? How did you fix it?

CN: Domestic violence
When I couldn't sleep as a child he would let me take some of the sleeping pills he took home from his work at a hospital. He only did it when my mother had night shift and he threatened me to institutionalize me or kill me if I told her anything about it. I mean Wtf I was a 5 y/o girl. He would then take off his and my clothes at night thinking I wouldn't notice. He always told me it was because things would feel itchy otherwise. When I told my mom he choked me until I "admitted" it was only a lie. Very fortunately that is all I can remember.
When I was 12 he would always frame me as a pill addict even though I didn't do ANY drugs at that time. He convinced my mother I was a drug addicted child prostitute when I was 12 and later that I had been part of child trafficking when I was actually visiting a friend for summer holidays because I couldn't stand him being around any longer. He sent me to multiple psychiatrists and psychiatries at an early age pretending to be the loving dad who cares for his mentally ill daughter but behind closed doors he hit, choked, drugged and insulted me.
I really don't understand why he did all that. For me it feels kind of munchhausen-py-proxy.
What really haunts me on the other hand is that many of ths things he accused me of or threatened to do actually came true later. F.e. I actually got addicted even though later in life. That makes me feel as if I'm in the wrong

I took 12.5 mg of agomelatine for 4 weeks and then went up to 25 mg for 3.5 weeks (so far). Unfortunately I feel like I'm about ready to jump ship because the side effects are so debilitating. I'm looking for some hope or just other people's experience who have been on this longer.
Since the first tablet I've had absolutely brutal nightmares literally every night, often waking up screaming, in some kind of weird haze between dreaming and waking that's very disturbing and dysphoric. In addition I have back pain upon waking and started grinding my teeth and jaw clenching. I wake up often and sleep badly— my sleep architecture was improved at first with more deep sleep but now I'm getting like 20 min of deep sleep per night. Has anybody had these things improve with time? (nightmares/teeth grinding/back pain/terrible sleep)?
On top of this the drug is very constipating to the point of nausea. I've been trying to manage with magnesium and vitamin C but it's pretty ridiculous. It has improved slightly but still a major problem. Has anyone had this and improved? I saw a post about this improving at a higher dose, like moving from 25 to 50 mg which sort of makes sense because increased 5-HT2C antagonism should improve gastrointestinal transit (I think the melatonin agonism is causing the constipation).
Beyond this I'm very angry a lot on this which is not typical for me and sometimes I feel like ly my anxiety has worsened, or at least, if there's any improvement it's extremely inconsistent (I'm taking it for anxiety). First couple weeks were especially bad for anxiety though with multiple full blown and partial panic attacks, which is also not typical for me. I've also found over the past couple weeks I seem to be getting depressive thoughts, even though I'm not even taking this for preexisting depression.
I also initially had very blurry vision and weird headaches and quite bad dizziness which have improved but do come back regularly. Fatigue too but I chalk that up to horrendous sleep.
Could this all miraculously turn around at 4 weeks or beyond on 25 mg? Could a dose increase to 37.5 or 50 help? Any thoughts or experiences at all are appreciated because I feel I am nearing the end of my tether with this.

I am promoting melatonin sleep supplements what keywords that i need to avoid? Heard health product high risk to get violation.

Gahhhh I'd been sleeping so wellllll for a while there. Then last night and tonight. Not even with melatonin.
At least the cars flying by and revving engines has mostly quieted. And some neighbors appear to have packed up and left quickly... honest to gawd. SO many weird things. It raises a person's tolerance to it ya know?
Did I miss some news??? I know I seem to be last one in the know about these things... so many things....
Meh, I love silence just as much as a good jam

So currently my husband’s entire family (parents,sister and Nani) has come to stay with us. Since, they have come, after office and on weekends he only spend time with them along with our 9 month old baby. He would only come in our room to sleep. Neither he talks to me nor we have any physical intimacy between us.
To give more context he is the dominating partner in our relationship where he decides everything, he doesn’t like if I do not agree with him or want something else. He want me to always talk in polite tone (even when I do not agree with him or is angry/upset) but he can say the most hurtful things when angry or use his hand gesture at me or shout at me or push me or say things like ‘yahan se niklo’ or ‘mujhse baat mat karo’ or ‘mera dimaag mat khao’
Last night I asked him about his behaviour towards me and said that since his family had come he does not have anytime for me. To this he said ‘he thinks our frequency doesn’t match now a days’. During the discussion he also started complaining about my weight gain post pregnancy and how he doesn’t like when I do not agree with him. Overall, he wants a wife who listen to him, do as he like and love his family (whereas he can treat my parents as low level citizen, see my earlier post).
We had a love marriage 7 years ago (dated for 5 years before marriage) but now he has changed completely. I used to think that after baby, love between couple blossoms but in our case it has worsened. All of this is very suffocating for me, last night all I wanted to do is resign from my job and take my baby with me and live with my parents. But then I thought I come from a conservative family, I also love him and care for him. My parents will be shattered by all this.
All this is affecting me and my mental health a lot. At night I have to take sleeping pills to sleep. I want to work on my marriage and relationship with my husband, I want him to also love me (like I love him) and prioritise me as well. Please guide me how I can do this .
Sometimes I feel if I leave him it won’t affect him much, he will be happy with his family and will find someone else. Even if he doesn’t he will still be happy. Whereas I will be totally lost in this world, I won’t have anything left in my life and I won’t be able to love anyone else ever.

I want to share this with you to give you hope. I have been in treatment for CPTSD from early childhood neglect and emotional abuse and bullying. I've been through what many here have been through: several rounds of CBT with either no effect or leaving me retraumatized, antidepressants (which actually help me to be more stable for trauma processing), been into acute psychiatric care (they gave me a handful of anti anxiety and sleeping pills and some good words) and EMDR. First I thought EMDR didn't work sufficiently - but actually it did, it just took time. Very recently I experienced a big breakthrough. It started as a panic attack and a very unpleasant lingering feeling in my stomach. About two days later I felt how this huge clump of pain and anxiety broke into smaller parts. And since then these parts have been coming up and I feel like getting rid of something which has been poisoning a great part of my life. It is SUCH A relief, it feels so wonderful, it's beyond words. This sub helps me so much when I'm in the middle of the trauma processing storm.
Don't give up. 💔❤️‍🩹🩷 It is possible to heal. But it might take some time.

Warning: Mentions of violence, blood, and some self harm near the end.
While browsing some random conspiracy site, I found what is a supposedly leaked file from the Nevada County Sheriff's Department; however, nothing has been confirmed. According to the OP, it is believed the following is the personal account of a 21 year old Jonathan Ashford of Grass Valley, California. Normally I would write stuff like this off but this one is...different. I’ve done my best to correct most of the grammar and misspelling while at the same time trying to avoid skewing the original account.
-September 15, 2022
I’ve never really been an outdoor person. Well, I guess that’s because I’ve never really been outdoors much in the first place. And that’s because I guess…I've never been invited? I don’t really have any friends. So, needless to say, I was surprised to find myself on a backpacking trip with a group of 5 other students from my university. The plan was five days in Tahoe National Forest some place called Mystery Lake. Monday-Friday. I don’t know why they decided to do it during the week. Most of us had okay grades at best and part time jobs on the side so taking a week off of it all seemed at the very least a bit irresponsible; and yet, I went anyway. Listen, I didn’t plan it, okay? This was one of my only chances to get to know people. The hike wasn’t too long but my genius self who had only been backpacking once when I was around 9 years old or so decided to carry 60 pounds of bullshit up the mountain resulting in my shoulders being sore and raw for the foreseeable future.
-10:11 PM
To be honest, I don’t really know why they let me come with them. I only know one of them and the group has been ignoring me for pretty much the entire trip. I was always bringing up the back on the hike in and I set up my tent outside of the main camp behind some trees. I haven’t eaten any meals with them or talked to them or, now that I think about it, anything really. Regardless. The trip has been an experience. Hopefully things get more exciting tomorrow.
-September 16
I’ve only ever slept in a tent a couple times so the new environment and lack of sleeping pills resulted in quite a restless night. I woke up at about eleven; everyone else was gone. I remembered they were talking about a day hike on a trail headed north so assuming that’s where they went, I hurried to get dressed and grabbed some granola bars. I’m about to head out. I hope I find them.
-12:21 PM
I’d been briskly walking for around an hour and was feeling quite exhausted so when I heard the group’s voices off in the distance I was very relieved. I started to jog in their direction when–when this jolt or–wave of energy flooded my mind. My head instantly started throbbing and my vision went blurry. The best way I could describe it is–TV static? Like the old TVs that would go all staticky when the signal got bad. I could barely make out shapes and a space in the middle of my vision was especially dark to the point where I couldn’t see past it. That wasn’t the worst of it, though. God no, if only I was that lucky. I can still hear the shrieking. That goddamn shrieking. In an instant all I could hear was this sharp, scratchy shrieking. It pierced through my ears and rooted itself in my head. I think I cried out in pain but even if I did I couldn’t have heard it. It was as if the damned souls of hell all cried out in eternal pain all at once and begged for death. I gripped and pulled at my hair, hardly noticing the pain that resulted from it as I fell to my knees in agony before…
I slowly opened my eyes. My head hurt and there was a slight buzzing in my ears. I lay in a pile of ivy next to a fallen log, my back dampened from the cool soil beneath me. I stood up, the hill on which I previously stood was nowhere in sight. As I leaned my shoulder against a tree to steady myself I heard voices. Cautiously, I walked through the foliage as the low vines dragged along my ankles. As I walked, I looked up. The falling sun cast a soft orange glow across the sky. It was probably around five O’clock or so. I climbed up on a large rock only to realize I was near the main camp. I pin-pointed the voices of my fellow campers as they huddled around a low-burning campfire. As I sat down to listen to them speak I could sense a strong feeling of uneasiness resonating from the group. Then it hit me.
“Are you sure you haven’t seen her since earlier this afternoon?” One of them said, I think his name was Matthew? He was tall and lean, by far the tallest in the group.
“I’m sure! It just doesn’t make sense. One minute she was behind me going on about who knows what and then the next when I turn around she’s gone!” A girl with light brown hair said. I didn’t know her name. I could see tears forming at the corner of her eyes as the wind blew her hair into her face.
“We need to find her before it gets dark. Groups of two; stick together!” A shorter man with brown hair said. Ryan. He was the only one I knew. We weren’t friends. Definitely not. But he was nice enough to me in the classes we had together and I was grateful that I was able to go on the trip with him. As he walked past the boulder I sat beside, paying me no mind, I saw his lower lip quiver as his wide eyes looked straight ahead. He was more nervous than he led on. I zoned out for a few seconds, the static from earlier crawling its way into the corners of my vision when a chipmunk climbing a tree snapped me back to reality and I realized I had been left at camp. I looked around at the tall forest but the group was nowhere in sight. I assumed they wanted me to wait at camp in case the missing girl, Alice, came back, but as I moved toward the dying campfire the call of nature occupied my thoughts. I found a spade and a roll of toilet paper and strode briskly into the forest, the cool Autumn air rushing against my chapped lips as I walked. I reached over to scratch an itch on my arm when I saw it.
“The fuck?” I wondered out loud. There on my upper forearm was…a bite mark. I rattled my brain trying to think what could have made that kind of mark. As I examined it more I confirmed my suspicions. It seemed human. At least I think it was human. It’s not like there are any goddamn monkeys native to Middle of Nowhere, California. There was also a dark purple bruise on my lower forearm. Didn’t remember getting that either.
I looked around for a good spot. Stepping over a log, I set my foot down on something soft. It was Alice. Her right hand crushed and mangled and a dried trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth had pooled on a flattened leaf. I screamed, tripping and falling back in the direction I hoped was the camp. As I jumped over a rock I landed hard on my left ankle as a streak of pain shot up through my body. I was trying to get back up when I heard it. The screeching. It steadily yet quickly faded in until it flooded my hearing. My vision was clouded by that same static. I curled up into a ball, kicking at the air. My eyes watered and I felt the urge to vomit…
A wave of dizziness hit me as I opened my eyes and fell on my tailbone, pain shooting up my back. I lay down on my back and looked up at the trees, my nose bloody. It was still dark. Had I been standing? I tried to recall what I had been doing but all I remembered were faded images. One thing I didn’t forget was the screeching. All that I could remember was covered by that screeching and a faint veil of that static. Just thinking about it made my head throb.
A groan. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned to look in the sound’s direction. It was David. He looked injured, lying on the ground, but quickly crawled back in what looked like fear when he saw me.
“You bitch!” He muttered between gritted teeth. Before I could react he was up on his feet charging in my direction. I tried to doge him but the wind was quickly knocked out of me as he headbutted me in the stomach. I fell back onto the ground and between coughs I saw him running towards me. Before he could deliver a heavy stomp to my chest I caught his foot and kicked up into his groin. He stumbled back with a low yelp of pain and, taking my chance while he was stunned, I stood up as fast as I could and prepared to block another attack. He ran up to me and attempted to deliver a blow to my stomach with his right fist, leaving his upper body undefended; I used the opportunity to send a hard punch into the side of his neck. He fell back choking, tears in his eyes. As he tried to sit down he tripped on a root and hit his head on a nearby boulder with a sickening crack. He squirmed for a moment, then nothing.
Silence. There was a faint red stain on the side of the rock, and beneath his blood-stained hair, his head seemed unnervingly misshapen. The closer I looked, the more I saw. Bruised neck, flowing blood, even some pinkish bone exposed near the worst of the damage to his skull. The fall must’ve been worse than I thought. Why would he attack me? What was wrong with him? Had he mistaken me for someone else? I sat against the blood-stained boulder and leaned my head back. I’m exhausted. Everything hurts. My ankle is throbbing. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve slept and I don’t know what to do. I should probably go try to find the camp but…I’m too tired. I think I’m going to go to sleep now.
-September 18
I slept through the entire day and most of the night! Or, at least I think I did. The more I think about it I’m not so sure. It’s like 2:30 AM, glad my phone still works even if my brain doesn’t, just wish I had signal. I’m not sure what to do but I might try to go find
-4:29 AM
Something’s definitely out here with us. Or–me. Not sure how many of the others are left out here. I’m sure that shrieking is tied to something. I heard something off in the distance while writing and decided to go check it out. It was Matthew and that other girl. They were walking briskly and their eyes seemed to be darting around frantically. They were talking in hushed tones but from what I heard they found Alice's body, and they were worried. I was about to reveal myself to them when the shrieking came back. It hit me like a train, and sometimes I think a train would have hurt less. It felt like it lasted for hours, I bit a hole through my lip and fell off of the boulder I was sitting on. I couldn’t see anything except a dark patch of static in the middle of my vision surrounded by more static. All the cuts and bruises in my body seemed to amplify and I could barely breathe. I just wanted it to stop but it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t stop.
The two were dead when I came to. I wasn’t much better off myself. No matter how much I spit I can’t get the taste of blood out of my mouth. My arms are covered in cuts and bruises and my shoulder was dislocated. That was a fun half hour figuring out how to put it back in place. I think whatever is out here with us clouds your vision and makes it impossible to hear anything as a way to hunt you. I’m amazed it hasn’t killed me yet. I hope Ryan is still out there.
-6:06 AM
It’s been a long night. A really long night. I found Ryan but–but now I wish I hadn’t. It was around five AM I think, I had been aimlessly wandering through the forest looking for something, anything. By the most unlucky luck Ryan came stumbling around a tree. When he saw me his eyes went wide.
“Jon, what the hell?” Then he squinted his eyes and seemed to notice the wounds on my arm.
“Oh god,” he said. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small knife, glaring at me during the process. Before I could reply, he charged me, knife in hand. I–I didn't want to kill him. I really didn’t. He tackled me to the ground, forcing the knife close to my chest. I desperately tried to push him away and being the stronger one, I knocked him off me. As he hurried to get back on top of me I sent my right leg flying into his arm, knocking the knife from his hand. Before he realized what was happening I grabbed the knife from the ground. In what seemed like a last desperate attempt he tried to force me down again but, already having the knife in my hand, I quickly slashed his chest and one of his wrists without thinking. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t mean to kill him! I was just defending myself. I don’t know why he attacked me, what’s gotten into him and David? Is that thing controlling them? They didn’t seem like they were under some kind of spell…I don’t think so at least.
After a soft cry of pain he collapsed and rolled down the steep hill we were standing on. I didn’t bother looking for his body. No point. Odds are that thing would use his body as a trap for me or something. I don’t know anymore.
Somehow I found my way back. I don’t remember how, all I remember is collapsing against a tree out of exhaustion but, here I am at the trailhead. I guess my half dead brain forgot most of it. I don’t know what I’ll do now, I don’t think I’ll tell the police. If they hear that some creepy ghost creature is hiding out in the forest killing my friends I’ll probably get locked up in who the fuck knows where for who the fuck knows what. But, no matter how many or how few believe me, I know something is out there. And I know it’s dangerous. I doubt the bodies will ever be found. That forest is huge and I buried Matthew and Elizabeth, found her name in a backpack she had on.
This will be my last entry. My name is Jonathan Ashford, and I survived something dangerous in the Tahoe national forest. Whatever you do, do not go there. Goodbye.
-September 22, 2022, 5:06 PM
Ryan survived. The police are after me. Apparently he told them I stalked them in the forest and picked them off when they weren’t together. I don’t know what’s happening. There are some gaps in my memory but I know that I didn’t kill those people. I only killed David, and that was self defense. I’m not sure what I’ll do. The police don’t know where I am but I’m sure that won’t last long.
-8:19 PM
I saw an interview with Ryan on the local news while browsing channels. He seemed–off. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. He seemed nervous, shaky. I hope he’s ok. I still don’t understand why he thinks I killed them.
-September 23, 3:12 AM
ok ok. I have a theory. I’ve been up all night thinking and it makes so much sense now. That thing can shriek. Terrifying right? But explainable. The static I still can’t make sense of, there’s no feasible way it could naturally do that. What if whatever supernatural force causes the static can also control people? Maybe that’s why Ryan looks so crazy. It must be controlling him. But why would it want me? Am I immune to its effects? Maybe.
-6:04 AM
They didn’t notice it. It didn’t hit them. When I was spying on Matthew and Elizabeth, right before they were–anyways.
The shrieking hit my ears before the static hit my eyes and in those few seconds, they didn’t notice. It didn’t affect them. They didn’t hear the shrieking. Maybe the shrieking is that monster thing's abilities failing to control me. Maybe that's why ryan-whatever’s controlling Ryan wants me. It’s because I’m a threat to it. Because It can’t control me. When I woke up I was injured, but never killed like the others. Maybe it doesn’t have as much power over me as others.
But why would the authorities believe Ryan? There’s no way his story can add up. Even if that creature, that thing, is intelligent, it can’t be that smart to fake a story. Why are they after me?
-11:42 PM
The police came by today. I was about to update this log again when they started banging on my door. I was able to sneak out a window before they noticed me, glad I live on the ground floor.
Something seemed off about them. I can’t say what but, something, like the uncanny valley effect, where something looks human but isn't. Whatever. It’s probably just my imagination. I need sleep.
-September 24, 2:20 AM
Something is wrong–something is definitely wrong. How did they find me? Holy shit that was close! I was dozing by a couple of dumpsters behind a gas station. Figured it was safe enough since it was out of the way and partly blocked by a fence until I heard dogs barking. Not sure how many of them there are, at least two–maybe three, I can still hear them barking. I figured they were just strays that would hopefully leave me alone until I saw the lights. Damn things half-blinded me!
“Son, what are you doing back here? Can we walk to you?” one of the officers said, his face was clammy and pale, he seemed tired, he seemed–off. I didn’t respond or wait for them to try and get closer, I dashed past them before they could call their dogs on me and jumped the fence, running into the tree line. I managed to climb my way up a tree a ways into the woods before they could get around the fence and send their dogs out. They haven’t found me yet, but they’re still looking for me. I can see their flashlights periodically bathing the tree line in a pale glow. I think I’ll try to wait them out and then climb down and run for as long as I can. Not sure where I’ll go yet but they keep finding me so I’ll have to get creative. Not sure how they’re finding me so quickly and easily, but maybe I can come up with something. Is that–thing finding me? Does it always know where I am? Is it controlling the police? Maybe that's why they looked so…wrong. I don’t know. I’m starting to think I don’t know anything anymore. I keep noticing the static in the corner of my vision occasionally, not sure why.
-September 24, 5:03 PM
I fucked up. Big time. Last night, somehow, I fell asleep. I don’t know how, guess I was just too exhausted. The sound of a helicopter pierced through the top of the tree line. Before I could register everything, I slipped and fell down the tree. I was able to slow my fall a bit by dragging my hands along the tree–hurt like a bitch–but I still landed hard. Can barely sit down. I think I was able to avoid being detected by the helicopter. I’m going to start walking. Not sure where but, I need to go somewhere. The static is constantly in the corner of my vision whenever I focus on it now. Why is this happening?
-10:44 PM
This doesn’t make any sense, I don’t know what's happening anymore! I was wandering through the forest when the static came back. God, it was awful, forgot how bad it was. Hell, maybe it was worse this time. Who knows. This isn’t the weirdest, or worst, part. I woke up in my apartment, I’m exhausted, but don’t have any new visible injuries despite how shitty I feel. Not sure why that thing didn’t try to hurt me, maybe it gave up on trying.
The news was on when I woke up, God I’m so fucked. They found the bodies–the ones that I buried. Of course they found my DNA all over them, used their forensics or whatever to try to explain how I killed everyone. I’ll have to admit if it wasn’t all a setup by some evil entity out to get me it would be pretty convincing. Sometimes–I find myself believing it. I don’t know what to think at this point, nothing makes sense anymore. The static is far more noticeable now. My head is starting to hurt, too.
They haven’t come back to my apartment yet, probably don’t think I would return this soon after they searched the place. I know they’ll be here eventually but I’m too tired to care right now. My brother and his kids used to live a few hours out of town, I think he built a treehouse for his kids somewhere behind the house. Maybe I’ll go try and hide out there for as long as I can. As if that will be very long at all.
-September 26, 6:24 PM
Everywhere I look, everything I watch. They’re always out for me. Everyone is looking for me. The things the police and the media keep saying about me–the evidence that gets released every day, the testimonies, officials saying I have symptoms of psychological problems like psychosis and DID, of Bipolar. More and more–I’m starting to believe it myself. Surely it's that thing. Surely it’s getting in my head…right?
-September 27, 1:03 PM
Made it to the treehouse, glad it’s still here. Had a few close calls along the way when trying to steal food from gas stations but I made it ok. Glad I did, the static is starting to really cloud my vision and my head hurts so bad my ears are starting to ring. I’m not out of the woods yet, that’s for sure. I can sense them...it. They’re trailing me. I think they’re getting close.
I’m so tired, so confused. I don’t know what to do, what to think anymore. What’s next? Maybe I’ll try to get some rest…if I can, that is.
I could try to come up with something, some silver bullet or whatever. I have this one idea, it’s not smart or clever, not even close, but it’s an idea, and it won’t let it–them–it, whatever, win. At least I don’t think it will; besides, surely it has a bigger plan for me, right? There’s no way it would go through all this effort just to kill me…
-4:39
They found me. I can hear them outside. They’re getting closer.
To be honest, I don’t know anymore. Maybe I did kill all those people, maybe I am insane. I don’t know what to believe. There’s so much being said, so many people saying it. I’m just so confused, so tired, so scared.
There's a bomb on the chair beside me, homemade. Glad I grabbed enough supplies to build it. Took me a while to figure it out as well as a few close calls but I think I got it working. They’ll have quite the surprise waiting for them once they find me…
They’re at the base of the tree now. The static has almost completely consumed my vision and my head feels like it’s about to explode. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. I’m not sure why I was made the target of this, why this is happening to me at all, but regardless of the reason, I won’t let them win.
To the creature, or entity, to whatever is doing this to me: I’ll see you in Hell.
Goodbye
Aside from some generic legal stuff to conclude the report, that’s where the document ends. I’m not sure what to make of it. Definitely a lot to take in. I contacted the OP on the site I got this from but haven’t received a response yet, will update if I receive one. For now my only advice is be careful, and don’t go backpacking in Tahoe National Forest. If anyone has any thoughts or info, please, let me know.

I have a pill container I use to track my medication. Each pill is a unique shape.
It’s a standard Monday-Sunday container.
I took my medicine. As I was going to sleep and taking my sleep medicine, I saw that my blood pressure pill was there… even though I took it.
I didn’t have the wrong day. All containers are filled out the same: three unique pills.
I remember being confused because each are unique.
I went to brush my teeth and then afterwards, I checked again and the blood pressure pill was gone. Leaving the correct amount of pills that should be there but evening.
I haven’t had something like this happen again yet. It felt so weird to see an extra pill in the container but then look back and it not being there…

I always had insomnia but I've been noticing it might be worse the weeks before my period. This month has been particularly bad and no matter what I do, I can't sleep. I'm very tired.
I don't have sleep medicine, only supplements. I tried again melatonin (1mg), apigenin (200mg with black pepper capsules), valerian root (700 to 1400mg) and nothing seems to help. Yesterday tried alcohol, also didn't help even tho I felt sleepy, just didn't fall asleep.
I feel like I'm constantly awake in bed during the night. I get up, I go to the couch then to bed again. Nothing.
I started exercising more, been using a stationary bike for 5 days, 1h a day (but my bones on my legs have been hurting so I have to rest the next few days). Meditation, journaling, not looking at my phone before bed.
I can't nap during the day either, I just lay down and close my eyes for 2h but still don't feel rested.
Been getting sun light (5~ min when I get up and then 10~ min with a sun light box).
Still nothing.
I don't know what to do anymore and would love some tips to add to my sleep protocol or in particular about PMS insomnia.
Thank you.

I have read somewhere that breast milk composition changes during day and night. Day time it has more cortisol and at night it has more melatonin. Will it affect LOs sleep during the day?

This is the 2nd time my brother woke up yelling and I asked him what he dreamt about and both times he said a plane. Brother is 25 btw (our rooms are next to each other). What can I do help him? Therapy is def going to happen but anything else. Also, not a fan of melatonin or any sleep aids.

Posting on here was the last thing I thought I’d do but I figured maybe writing things down may help ease things.
It’s been over a year now since I’ve circumed to so many illnesses. It started with just colds but eventually developed into fibromyalgia, migraines, body weakness, Vulvodynia, so much. Everything just hurts physically all the time. I was staying strong for so long and I thought i could get through it all but every time my symptoms get better, before I know it they’re back and worse.
I’ve spent thousands on doctors, both regular and holistic. All the drugs seem to make make sicker. They’ve done countless blood tests and everything comes back normal. It’s horrible constantly feeling like I’m dying but being told nothing is wrong. I get enough sleep, I eat really healthily, but everything I try has little to no results.
My partner was originally so supportive but now he seems always so frustrated at me. I’m trying so hard to please him but when my body is constantly in pain, it’s hard, and nothing ever seems enough for him. Even with physical therapy for a year, my progress always jumps back to square 1 randomly.
I was able to finish my college assosicates somehow with a 3.98gpa but everyone keeps trying to push me to jump into full time work, I can barely make it through the day, yet alone hold a job. I’ve told my partner I’m struggling but he just asks me how do I think I’m going to deal with ‘real life’ when I can barely function not working. And I know I won’t be able to deal with life. I’ve told him that and he just gets frustrated at me.
I even got a therapist despite how much I used to hate them. She’s pretty cool and she’s helped a lot but there’s only so much she can do.
I’m just so done with all the pain. It hurts so much. And there’s literally nothing I can do. I’ve tried sosososo hard and gotten no where. At this point I just want to die because I’m fed up of constantly hurting but I know my family loves me so much. Escpecially my dad, I’m the only thing he has. I can’t bring myself to leave because I know how much it’ll hurt them so now I just feel trapped. I can’t die but im not even living anymore- just going day by day in pain.
I constantly find myself thinking of how I’d want to go out. I’ve got enough of amytriptiline to let me go and I wouldn’t think it would be a bad death. I guess it puts you in a coma then you die, and just one pill was enough to make me sleep and entire day, yet alone a whole bottle. Im very sensitive to the stuff. just would need to find a peaceful place for someone to not find me while the pills do their thing. Shouldn’t be too hard. But that’s just a dream at the moment, I love my family too much to let them suffer so I’ll see how long I can hold out.

Admitting we have a problem is the first step in solving it! Author is a Eugenean talking about her experience with rising crime in the city, never saw this story but hey, still relevant today. Found this little gem by random chance. Title is a hopefully relatable quote from the article. You can agree or disagree with the author, but it's actually pretty well written with sources included. (just including the whole article, for people who don't want to click links!)

I Caught Two Men Stealing From My Home. The Aftermath Was Absurd—and All Too Typical.

This experience crystallized Oregon’s deeper problems.

BY REBECCA SCHUMANJUNE 21, 20225:40 AM
Typically, guys wearing power-company vests don’t leave the houses they’re working on laden down with backpacks—let alone power tools, a scooter, and a Nintendo Switch. But that was the scene I happened upon at 6:30 p.m. on a Tuesday in mid-April when I puttered into my driveway in Eugene, Oregon, my 7-year-old ensconced in the back seat.
For a second, my brain tried to normalize the incident: This is just my daughter’s dad stopping by—except there are two of him, and they’re dressed as electricians for some reason? Then, a second later, everything whooshed into place: Oh, wait, I’m being robbed. Or, rather, I was being burgled. I would get reminded of this distinction later, when I made the dubious choice to join the chorus of aggrieved buttinskies on Nextdoor, where my well-meaning post to warn the neighborhood would turn me into an accidental vigilante hero for a day.
Unfortunately, it’s true: My reaction to this burgle was the lived-out fantasy of many who have been on the business end of a property crime. As the two goons took off on foot down my street, I went into fight-or-flight mode—and I chose fight.
“Well,” I said to my confused child, “let’s go see if we can get our stuff back.”
I peeled my 2005 Subaru back onto the street and easily overtook my two targets, who then hurtled themselves into an alley, whereupon I cornered one by the driver’s side window as the other made haste across the adjacent parking lot.
“Just give it back, bro!” I yelled out my window. “Just give it back! I’m a single mom! Just give it back.”
I repeated this until either I reminded him too much of his meanest teacher or he realized he’d been caught in broad daylight. “Fine,” he said. “Just fucking take it.”
He shoved a backpack through my driver’s side window. Inside it was both my laptops and my daughter’s iPad from school. Back at home, I would discover these guys had used channel lock pliers to force open the back door, but that the general chaos of my home had prevented them from locating my passport, jewelry, or sole item of irreplaceable value: the Montblanc fountain pen that my father, who died in a bicycle accident two years ago, had gotten for his law school graduation. My cat was unfazed.
I can honestly tell you that this little caper of mine was thrilling and deeply satisfying. It was also the exact wrong thing to do. Even this fanatical open-carry gun website implores: “Don’t chase criminals.” What if these two dipsticks had been armed? As unlikely as that was—property crime in my town is often driven by addiction, and weapons are worth money, which can buy drugs—I put myself and my child in potential danger. And for what? Three grand worth of electronics. As any reputable expert will tell you, you’re never to give chase to a thief, because human life is not worth possessions. As much as I admit to enjoying being called a “badass” by everyone I told this story, plus the listeners of KLCC Oregon, I should not have done this.
I did call the police, on the nonemergency line, because the dudes were long gone and nobody was hurt. I declined the dispatcher’s offer to send two officers to fingerprint a bunch of stuff I’d already touched. At best, that would have just added two more sets of prints to my town’s burgeoning roster of perennially at-large property criminals.
There are larger issues here, issues much more important than my would-be cool story. First, it’s an example of how in Eugene, small-scale property crime is now de facto legal. It is largely nonviolent, so it’s rarely seen as worth police resources to track down the goods. At the same time, it is so prevalent that any time one vest-wearing bozo gets nabbed, three more spring up in his place. This was my house’s second break-in in six months, and my fourth property crime total in the three years I’ve lived here as an adult. Eugene is my hometown, so I can also add the four times my childhood house, where my mother still lives, has been burgled since the early 2000s. When I was little, we left our front door unlocked so regularly that I wasn’t aware front doors had locks on them until I was much older. By the time I turned 30, however, every door in my parents’ house had been pried open at least once. (“Time to finally get that alarm system!” said my dad for three straight decades.)
Still, it’s a mistake to treat this trend solely as a vexing crime problem. Eugene’s descent into its property crime epidemic has been concurrent, unsurprisingly, with two addiction epidemics: First, the methamphetamine nightmare of the 1990s—when pseudoephedrine pills were still unregulated—hit Oregon and other Western states particularly hard. That wave segued all too naturally into the opioid and fentanyl crisis of the present. Meanwhile, not only did meth never really leave, but its use in Oregon also surged with the pandemic, with three Oregonians per day currently dying a drug-related death.
Since our conversation was necessarily brief, I don’t know the housing or drug situation of the guys who broke into my place. But local statistics point to them as two more casualties of these plagues. (Granted, those statistics are from nearby Portland, and they are police-sourced, so take them how you wish.)
For all the ambivalent empathy that the opioid epidemic has engendered, the local property crime scourge has set off a fierce public backlash. My incident brought out an unsurprising chorus of bloodlust on Nextdoor and elsewhere, when I shared it because I wanted to give my immediate neighbors a heads-up: “You should have kicked their asses,” they wrote. “We need to rise up and defend our property.”
This town’s petty crime is often attributed, at least in the national conservative press, to our West Coast government’s decision to temporarily allow urban camping during the pandemic. (That policy has now officially ended, for what it’s worth.) Towns like mine have often been characterized in the popular imagination as unlivable crime-addled hellholes. I will be the first to admit that our tent cities are sometimes blatant open-air drug markets, but this is the case even as our property values inflate to absurd proportions—and our crime is actually on the decline. Still, Oregonians like me currently have about a 2.7 percent chance of being burgled, which, at almost 30 percent higher than the national average, is very high. I learned very efficiently how anecdotes like mine get around (I can’t help it if I’m a dynamic storyteller!) and attract the righteous indignation of other former victims, so many often feel, incorrectly, like we few honest vanguards are awash in a sea of riffraff.
This atmosphere, in turn, inspires my locality’s equally unreasonable political extremists to put forth and exacerbate their own untenable solutions. Even in a hyperpolarized American environment, Oregon is more polarized than most. For decades, our liberal enclaves have made Portlandia look understated, while our conservative areas make Texas’ look progressive.
For example, during the heyday of Eugene’s recently dismantled and infamous Washington Jefferson Park tent city, a larger break-in at a bicycle store was traced at least partially back to the encampment. The police swept the tents and made a flurry of arrests. Some of the bikes were found. This resulted in part in outrage over using resources to hassle the city’s most impoverished residents: “A stolen bike, yes, that sucks,” an advocate for the unhoused told a local news outlet. “But what are your priorities? And I’m sorry, but a stolen bike isn’t the priority.”
Well, trust me, in this town, it definitely isn’t. Recovering those bikes was an anomaly; in Eugene, most of these burglaries go unsolved. In fact, 87 percent of burglaries in the whole country do, too. The get-tough-on-property-crime proponents assert that statistically, this sends a message that stealing is fair game, and sure, that is a message I do not condone. But I also agree with a somewhat less rabid version of the opposing view: Property is replaceable, these crimes are nonviolent, and everyone currently rifling through houses and dealing drugs out of tents in my town is human. They deserve a chance to get their lives on track.
So, what should be the town’s priority? Fixing the addiction epidemics is a perilously long way away from happening, for reasons that are as polarizing as addiction’s consequences. In the sobering and excellent Dopesick, author Beth Macy goes into painfully exacting detail about opioids’ near-inescapable hold on the human brain. Macy argues that the true way out of this epidemic is “low-barrier treatment,” which includes supportive housing and medical interventions such as safe injection supplies, fentanyl testing strips, buprenorphine access, and supervised consumption sites. All of these options, however, are a tough sell even in a “progressive” town like Eugene, where supervised consumption sites are what NIMBY nightmares are made of, and low-barrier treatment can run up against deeply held moral stigma: Gas is $5 a gallon, and my taxes are going to some junkie?
In the meantime, while some admirably advocate and vote and wait for those breakthroughs, what should we do about the burglaries themselves? Should we pursue more law enforcement, or more compassion toward the burglars? More arrests that allegedly might deter this, or policies that might alleviate income inequality? Does—as approximately 83 percent of the suggestions from my Nextdoor thread contended—every house in town need a tripwire that handcuffs trespassers on sight? Or should all businesses be taxed at 500 percent, and the proceeds used to furnish every fentanyl dealer in town with a nice apartment and mad cash? The debate has degenerated such that these are the sorts of cartoonish positions each side believes they’re fighting—and, in fact, are the only available choices. Just check out Eugene’s Reddit section any day, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The actual blight on small American towns like mine isn’t property crime. It’s that any tenable solution to it has been swallowed up into a churning abyss of extremism and perceived counterextremism. No one seems to have a convincing answer to the most basic question: So what should we do? What should I do?
Burglaries don’t have to be largely unsolvable, and more property criminals could be apprehended. But while I don’t want those dudes or any of their buddies to come back to my house, I also don’t want them in an American prison, where their “rehabilitation” will consist largely of learning better ways to commit even bigger crimes when they get out, and their options for alternative forms of acquiring money will be even more limited than they are now. Lacking any meaningful restorative justice program for petty thieves in my town (which would, in turn, necessitate locating and apprehending them), I decided my own problems could be solved, for now, with a padlock on my back gate.
And then, not long after the break-in, a Nintendo Switch appeared on my town’s Craigslist. Its included components and color combination were identical to the set stolen from my house. I debated, briefly, bringing my vigilante justice alter ego Super Annoying out of retirement, answering the ad and showing up to shrill my wrongdoers into returning what was mine. But this time, I thought better of it. My life is not worth much, but it’s probably worth more than Mario Kart. I can only hope the console’s new owners enjoy it as much as my daughter did—at least until someone steals it again.

This will be my first time ever openly sharing about my addiction; from the root cause to the effects and struggles that having a porn addiction has impacted my life to this day
So I just recently turned 21 and I'm beginning to look around and realize that for as long as I've acknowledged that I have a problem and need to quit, I keep feeding the addiction KNOWING that it's ruining my life. I'm going to split this post into 3 sections explaining the following stages: The root causes/early development, Progression of my addiction to current day, and Main struggles from my PA and how I go about everyday life to heal. Not exactly sure why I'm posting this but I just feel like it's something I need to let out. Hope someone can relate or give me their take on it.
The root causes/early development: So I believe that my PA manifested due to a few different reasons: Playing "doctor" with my sister as a child, early age porn exposure, and then using porn as a coping mechanism to deal with any negative emotions. So starting w/ "playing doctor", it first happened at a very young age, somewhere between elementary school to 6th grade. I think most people know what that is but to keep it short basically my sister who is a year older than me introduced my to basically role playing as doctor and patient. I wasn't sure if SHE even knew it was wrong but the point is, it happened. I genuinely don't think she was doing in an abusive way but I'll never know. I don't remember the small details of exactly how it happened but what leads me to think this was a factor that contributed to my porn addiction is that I know now as an adult that it's wrong, however as we "played doctor" I only grew to enjoy it and occasionally we took things outside of "playing doctor" - which is why I don't know what to make of it... Long story short it went from "doctor" to us making up our own games like "spy" where we pretended to fight each other as spy's, getting "knocked out" unconscious while she'd touch... and I specifically remember wanting to play these games in hopes that it led to that. But even outside of playing games I grew to wanting to touch her and act on perverted thoughts as a child that were NOT normal for my age or in general. And sometimes I would sneakily act on them - which as I'm reflecting on right now makes me think that me KNOWINGLY trying to be sneaky and act on perverted thoughts at that young of an age had to have carried on with me as I got older (contributing to my porn addiction).. And then the last thing that I vividly remember was when I was probably 10-12 years old is when again we were actually kind of aggressively play fighting, somehow ended up with each other's hands DOWN THERE mutually and we kept going on with each other until she made me.... yeah. And that was the last memory I had of what started out as us "playing doctor". Fast forward to current date since that last memory and we've never spoken about those experiences (more on that later). Going onto the actual exposure of pornography and WATCHING porn, I was exposed to it somewhere in between the same timeframe as when I'd play doctor and the last memory of us playing (somewhere between the ages of 8-12). I can vividly remember the scene that played late at night on the tv that my parents had left on (I shared a room with them). And then moving forward from there, somewhere in between I would find videos on YouTube of this "prank" channel where he'd go up to paid actors, bet that if he beat them in rock paper scissors that they'd have to make out with him. And as a young kid at the time seeing a girl in a bikini making out with a guy as he grabbed on her ass just made me horny and I learned to masturbate from there. And I cant think of a stronger dopamine hit for a 8-12 year old little me at the time than seeing those videos and pleasuring myself. After this, I'd hit middle school where I was bullied a lot, all while lacking social skills necessary to make any genuine friends or deal with the emotional turmoil of being bullied. Fast forward a few months and I think I just progressively began to normalize using porn as a coping mechanism - All the way from whenever I just got mad while dying repetitively on the videogame, to avoiding the fact that I hated my life everyday that I went to school. I'd use porn to receive that "good feeling" whenever I could. And I think my sexual addiction got worse when I began touching myself in the shower almost everyday in middle school to the imagination of the pretty girls that were at my school, even though I had neverarely talked to some of them. It was just a thing for me where every night I took a shower, I closed my eyes and fantasized about doing stuff with them. And then the cycles of me normalizing these things continued and eventually I found out about REAL porn sites.
Progression of my addiction to current day: So shortly after finding the real porn sites I entirely opted to use those as much as possible as the cycle continued. So by my freshman year of high school I was already using porn sites regularly. I remember during summer and winter breaks, sometimes I'd sleep at my grandmas and stay up all night switching from ejaculating to porn, to watching my favorite youtuber and streamers, to going back to jerking off. It was a multiple times a day/night occurrence OFTEN. Sometimes even during the middle of the day I'd pretend to use the bathroom but really I had a porn video pulled up and I watched until I was done. And as time progressed one video didn't exactly cut it for me. I don't think its that I couldn't get off to the first video, but more so that I just had the urge to see more and didn't want to nut yet. I didn't even know if I was purposely edging or not. I did not even understand that edging was a concept yet. Its just something that occurred naturally for me. And during all of this, I am still somewhere in the age range of 13-15. Consistently ejaculating to pornography, further exploring the more basic categories of porn like anal and lesbian. I think a notable memory was one of the first times I watched porn in the middle of work during summer break (extended family owns a construction company so I worked over breaks). It's crazy because in construction all we have are porta-potties that are always hot and nasty and the urge just came over me one day to pretend like I was using the bathroom and get one off before I went back... I don't think I even realized at the time that I had an addiction because this was still early high school. It was just something I looked at as a good feeling and whenever the urges came to me I took any chance I got to fulfill them. Even if I was sharing a room with a family member, I'd be as slow and quit as I could, touch myself under the covers, finish in my underwear and then showechange the next morning like it was normal. Moving forward, this type of behavior continues all the way throughout high school and the feeling of ejaculating just is not as intense as it use to be, so I look up ways to spice it up and I tried shit all the way from sitting on my own hand til it goes sort or numb so it "feels like someone else is touching you", to doing it in more risky places like my backyard outside when I was home alone and had my pants pulled down all the way, to whatever else I could try. Reflecting back, I just look at all these actions as the progressions of a sexual/porn addiction that is still developing. And this is how I rationalize the way I developed a porn addiction. Now it wasn't AWFUL in high school but it was getting bad. I realized that I had actually had a bad addiction that needed to be addressed a few months after graduating high school. From that point forward It was something that I had acknowledged was an issue but nonetheless, continued to do out of habit and as a continued coping mechanism. Whether it was from the lack of relationships, to my current life situation/direction I was headed in, or just any negative emotion - I used porn to release. Sometimes I'd even just do it out of boredom, not even because I had a dying urge to get one off. And then after that point of realization, I sat in "depression" for a few months still going about my everyday life until one day my dad mentioned that I should try therapy. He knew nothing about the addiction but I did let him know I feel depressed and the many struggles that I faced - which I believe is due to my porn addiction. So long story short, I go to therapy for about 3 sessions and end up dropping it because it just wasn't something I felt was helping or enjoyed (more on that later). From there to current day, I've gone at MOST one week periods attempting to quit porn and every time I relapse. From the age of 1 to-current day 21 years old, the progression of the categories of porn that I watch has grown and a few different fetishes like face sitting, femdom, and role play has increased. I don't NEED to watch these specific categories to get off, however these are ones I've found myself most recently watching and edging to, sometimes for 1-3 hours at a time, usually at night on weekends or before I fall asleep. And to take it a step further, I had started pouring money into camgirl sites, phone sex sites, only fans, etc.. I live with my parents still so it's not to the point that I'm broke and have no money, but still what the fuck am I doing putting my hard earned money into a porn addiction... (I'm a functioning adult on a pathway to financial freedom, more on this later).
Main struggles from my PA and how I go about everyday life to heal: So I believe that the main struggles with my porn addiction consist of: the inability/struggle to create and maintain healthy relationships, low self esteem, poor social skills, lack of motivation, and the cognitive dissonance of continuing my addiction to porn even though morally I believe it is wrong to lust over. I believe all of these struggles that come with porn are connected to each other - minus the cognitive dissonance. But everything else kind of stacks on top of each other. So my thought process is that I already dealt w/ low self esteem and confidence from a very young age, and porn just completely enhanced those problems and made it even harder to fix/work on. If you're anything like me and have watched videos on the sciences of porn on your brain, and possible struggles that we deal with, I'm assuming you know how it goes for the most part. I'd say I show symptoms of all effects of being a porn addict, however I've learned to "act normal" to an extent. Like YES I struggle to make friends and hold conversations with people in general but I can make it happen. Sure it'll be a little awkward depending on who I'm speaking to, but I feel like I act normal enough to not be a total outcast and all out weirdo around people. But I just feel like every relationship I have with anyone is extremely surface level or unfulfilling. I feel like as a person I lack so much substance and personality due to the fact that I never really put myself out there and learned social skills when I was coming up. My mindset was molded into something like "keep your head down and stay out the way" in order to avoid conflict. So I never really put myself out there to develop any type of super crazy/interesting personality. I work, play videogames, go to the gym, watch anime. I feel like there's not much else - which might also be a side affect of my porn addiction. Lack of emotion. And I refuse to call it depression. Kind of got red pilled by Andrew Tate Philosophy and it entirely HAS helped me. Maybe it's real, maybe it's not - because when I was fresh out of high school and hyper focused on the bad parts of my life, I felt depressed as shit. Legit like I couldn't do anything to fix it. And the more I identified as "depressed" the more I allowed myself to look for things in my life to confirm that belief. So eventually I went on a self improvement journey and just stopped allowing "depression" to hold power over me. Now I don't believe in it so it's not something that can hold me down in that crippling way. HOWEVER, I DO believe in just being in a shitty situation - which is what I feel like having a porn addiction along with it's effects and symptoms is. It's a shitty situation and I can either allow it to keep ruining my life OR I can get up everyday and attempt to fix it. And I refuse to play the victim card. Sure, I may have been exposed to some fucked up shit at a young age and used porn as a coping mechanism. There is no denying that it happened and that it may have been unfair and out of my control. YES, that's my problem. I may be a victim of pornography but I do not have to ALLOW it to continue to ruin my life. Easier said than done but it's definitely possible and I will not blame my lack of discipline or call it "depression" because I'm unable to quit. The way I see it is, there is a lot of shit that happened to me in the past that I have to come to terms with, and then I must come up with a plan to improve and learn how to be better. For example, struggling to hold eye contact with people, hold basic conversation with people (specifically women), find confidence within myself, become more social, etc... These are all skills that we can practice and learn. Simply by going outside and putting ourselves in uncomfortable situations that allow us to put the reps in. I believe that if I quit porn and start walking up to 10 strangers a day and try having simple conversations with them, in time I can only get better at being social and connecting with people. It's gonna suck and feel like shit at first, but I truly believe that it's a way to improve and get better. As I stand in my current situation I would say I have a lot of work to do but I'm still a functioning addict. I have friendships and relationships with family but they are very lack luster and I long for something deeper and more intimate. I know I'm not ugly and have the ability to pull a good looking girl, shit I've turned down this really pretty girl who always asks to hangout simply due to the fact that I feel like I'm gonna fuck it up and have bad social skills. And its getting to a point where friends and family are wondering why I haven't had a girlfriend in years. Overall its a lack of self esteem, which hinders me from being able to confidently put myself out there as a person who's deserving of love/companionship, which then makes me sort of self isolate and stray away from any type of connection or opportunity to be vulnerable. Which just leads me to feeling like a loser or someone that is undeserving of love because I'm just in a shitty situation. And yeah. Its kind of a self sabotaging cycle because I feel like I understand what's going on but I don't have the discipline and don't put the work in to get better. But that's just my two cents. This post was extremely long and I probably rifted off topic a few times and had my thoughts all over the place, and I still have a lot more I could give input about but this is the jist of everything
If anyone has a support group or needs someone to talk to, 1. I'd like to join the group, or 2. Feel free to message me for any support or conversation.

Hello, I’m dealing with stubborn bacne. I have tried:
-Cutting caffeine by half -No Starbucks for a little while -Seeing a dermatologist -Back sprays and washes (CeraVe SA cleanser bar, Neutrogena body clear body wash, dermatologist prescribed wash) -Tretinoin -Hormone testing -Low carb/low sugar -No products at all -Clean t-shirt each night to sleep -Wash my hair in a sink -Washing my back after my hair
Does anyone have any product recommendations? My dermatologist said the only thing after tretinoin to try is a pill, spironolactone, which I’d rather not have to take! Thank you for any advice.