Makeout mom and son video

I lost my dog about a month ago and am still struggling through some grief.
I got my dog with my dad when I was in college. She lived with my parents while I lived with them, and then eventually when I moved out, she continued to live at home with them but I would come home every weekend and spend days with her. The last two years, I was struggling significantly with mental health challenges which made it difficult for me to go back home. The time we had together dwindled to holidays while I had to put my mental health first.
I had not seen my dog for about a year and I had finally made plans for my parents to bring her and her sister over to my house to enjoy my backyard and for us to reconnect. When they arrived, it was very obvious to me that something was wrong with her and she was acting strange, like she was in pain. Within 48 hours, we discovered she had a sudden spine fracture caused by an aggressive bone cancer that never showed up on her bloodwork and I had to make the difficult decision to euthanize her at home.
Our last few days together, she was not excited to see me. I had her stay at my house while I nursed her 24/7. Usually she was a dog that wouldn't stop giving me kisses and smiling. I understand that she was in pain, so although I was deeply upset and internalizing the change, I put it out of my mind. Then, our last day together, hours before the vets were meant to arrive at my house, my brother walked in and my dog got SO excited, her tail going crazy despite being in pain (though at this point she was heavily medicated to keep her comfortable) and giving him so many kisses.
In my last video with her, I asked her for a kiss and she didn't give me one. She never showed the same amount of excitement to see me, and I can't seem to get over that.
I've heard from my mom that my dog has visited her, but I have had no signs from my dog since then, even though I've asked and begged. I feel like she was mad at me in our final days together, and I'm having trouble both accepting it and processing it. I do have time with a therapist soon, but was curious if anyone could offer perspective or thoughts in the meantime.
It's the one thing during this mourning process that I'm completely stuck on and, frankly, makes me nauseous. I very rarely put myself first in life and the first time I have to because of my mental health, I feel like I ended up hurting a piece of my family that was so important to me. Even though I wasn't physically there, I had been the reason she had so many fun toys and treats and everything. I know she can't understand that.
My mom tells me that I'm being silly because she was in pain, but to me, not in pain enough not to get excited to see my brother. Any words will be helpful.

I seriously don't think it was a good idea having me cook, clean, do my parents laundry, look after my 30 something year old special needs brother, help my mom shower, and get groceries.
I usually struggle just cleaning my own damn room. I honestly should have gotten a new job. My mom told me I shouldn't before she got her surgery and she said I should take care of her.
I hate to say it but working retail is less stressful than dealing with her and my brother.
I don't want to be a caregiver for anyone. Everything I do isn't correct for her and I just want to have a chill day instead of having her shout at me for mopping while she went to the restroom and telling me I might make her fall down because of that. (Even though I didn't notice she went to the restroom)
Like I've seriously ran out of patience for her and my brother. My brother is mentally disabled so despite being annoying and constantly arguing with me, he can't really help being like that.
My mom will get up and do things even though she shouldn't. And then gets mad when I don't just want to spend every moment of my day cleaning.
I'm probably the problem. Maybe I'm a bad son but I just hate this. I hate being around her and her view of life. She always wants to do something cleaning related and never lets herself relax. Being around her is the worst. I should want to help her but honestly I just feel tired and stressed.
I wish we just hired someone but that probably isn't possible. I just know I'm not very compassionate and dealing with my mom leaves me feeling upset and angry 24/7

To start, me and this girl (let’s call her Ava) have been friends since 7th grade (we both just graduated high school) but since December, we have not been hanging out.
CONTEXT: my mom made me stop spending the night with her because her dad is REALLY abusive. Ava would always call me crying because of her dad hurting her, or her family. I would constantly try convincing her to report him to the police, or (sadly) try to film him secretly and take pictures of any harm he does to her. I’ve told my mom this and she began to become a little bit uncomfortable letting me spend the night with her dad there. One unfortunate night, her mom came home crying because of him fighting her in the car. I was there to witness the aftermath and I was 2 seconds away from calling the police before her mom stopped me. She sat down and cried with me as I comforted her and she begged me not to call the police. She told me they both had been drinking and she didn’t want to be in trouble for that, and I sadly agreed to not dial 911 for her sake. I promised myself that next time anything happens in MY presence I need to call the police. Ava’s told me before that she and her family are scared to file a report on her dad because he’s broken a restraining order before and is a VERY dangerous man who will do anything to not go to prison AGAIN. This was my mom’s final straw and she told me that I will not be spending the night at her house again.
She made sure, however, that I knew we could still hang out, just ZERO sleepovers at her house. It took me a week to tell Ava because I felt really bad. I didn’t want her being more upset or embarrassed because of her dad’s actions. The day I told her she gave me a completely different reaction. She was really mad, and she started blaming me for crazy things. I won’t even go into context of what they were because it’s just so irrelevant. She calmed down though and apologized for her mistakes and told me that we can still hang out and be friends (I think we only hung out ONCE after this happened).
Weeks go by and the only contact we’ve had was over social media (sending tiktoks or posts to each other), and occasionally on text. I was fine with this because I ultimately realized I should keep some distance between her and I and give her some space. She would constantly boast about her “work crush” and how all the customers at her work are in love with her and ask her for her number all the time. This felt kinda weird to me because she seemed to REALLY be trying to make me feel bad?? or jealous?? i just felt weird vibes about it. Around this time she would also drive by my house..a lot. My entire family have all seen her drive by more than once. I once saw her slowly drive by, staring into my house. Then, one random night at 10pm, I hear a LOUD thump on my window. (My rooms is a little bit underground but I have LARGE windows that half way look out onto the front yard and street.) I heard a car loudly drive off shortly after that. I get up and see my mom in the living room and say “I think Samantha just hit my window?!” My brother heard me and ran outside to go check and he runs back in saying “No, she egged the house.” My mom instantly ran outside and called Ava’s mom. She asked if she was home, and when she answer was no, she started going OFF on Ava’s mom. They exchanged some nasty words (my mom does NOT play around she gets so scary 😭😭) and my mom called the cops to file a report. (She was already SO fed up with Ava driving by constantly to glare at us.) The police basically tell us there’s not much they can do because it was just an egging and unless it was more serious, they would start building a case. Not even 5 minutes later I called my other friend crying because I was so upset and needed to vent. She calmed me down and hung up. Not even 6 minutes after that phone call she texts me saying “She just egged my house.” I was so mad. Ava HATED this friend for NO reason. Ava and i have argued about this before because she would be so mean to me and act SO jealous anytime I spent time with my other friend. Ava egging this girls house just PROVED that it was her.
It’s been a few weeks since that..and I blocked Ava on everything. She never tried reaching out, and that was that. However, today, as I’m sitting in my room, my window open, I hear “F***K YOUUU” and a loud car drive by. This time, we set up a camera outside just in case she came back. Now I have footage. Here’s the thing: she’s in an unfamiliar vehicle. I know exactly what her family drives and none of them own that. However, the night of the egging, we counted 6 eggs. This meant that she had her NEW friend with her. I know this because when I heard the thump, it was one BIG loud sound. It didn’t sound like she threw multiple eggs at different times, it was all at once. I also believe she brought her little sister because there was 1 whole eggs in the grass at both mine and my other friends house. (her parents don’t let Ava go ANYWHERE with out her sister. and i mean ANYWHERE. she is very spoiled) When you think about a little 6 year old girl throwing an egg from a distance, it’s more than likely that they miss.
Anyways, we have video evidence of her driving by even thought you can’t REALLY see her, and we have photo proof of the egging (which was a pain to clean btw 😭). The whole point of this post is mostly to rant, but if anyone has any input to this I would appreciate that. I’m not really sure what to do at this point. She’s obviously trying to intimidate her because I made her upset.
I’ll update if anything happens.

Prefacing this with sorry if there's weird formatting, I'm on mobile. And also that I often hold myself to illogical standards that I don't even believe in for others. I fully believe all people are people and deserve every ounce of love and respect and rights.
I think I kind of self imposed my own kind of religious trauma? When I was like 16 or 17 I realized I was Bi and was totally fine with it. Then I went off to college and started working the midnight shift at the campus convenience store with this other guy. Very big on God and we would talk in depth about the books he was reading on I think Calvin and stuff like that. I was still pretty new in practicing my faith in Christianity and really looked up to him because he was so knowledgeable.
He gave me his testimony on how he used to be gay but basically followed his faith in the Lord and got into a bunch of people online and prayed for God to turn him straight and he said it worked. That God put homosexuality into this world because of Man's sin. Even though I never believed in homosexuality really being a sin, I believed him. He had me watch Rosaria Butterfield's videos and basically I prayed a lot. Ah, to be young and naive again.
So for years, I believed I was straight, kept telling myself. Even to the point that when my now husband told me a few years ago that it's okay I'm also attracted to females, I quickly shut that down. I was so ashamed of myself.
But in the past year, year and a half, I don't know. It feels like I can't keep it shoved down far enough anymore. Probably what triggered it was seeing someone really attractive and it put me into a panic because I barely ever felt turned on by my husband at that point, so I was convinced that my Zoloft was turning me gay. Then whenever I went off my meds for more than a couple days, it was basically like HOCD. Not having the Zoloft at full effect, I could feel arousal again, but then without my Buspar, I honestly hit almost every mark for HOCD. Then a spiral of self hatred and telling myself I'm not attracted to women, it's just OCD and anxiety. Another thing that sent me into a spiral was seeing that the same college friend follows a bunch of muscle-y men and and LGBT gym on Instagram and it felt like he was lying to me all along.
But the past few months, the possible OCD hasn't been as bad in the sense that while I still obsess, I've just been able to tell myself that sure I'm attracted to women too, but I can't be bi because I have a specific type where I don't really have much of a type for men.
Then a friend showed me a picture of some pride stuffies that his wife was making for a craft fair and I messaged her that I wanted to buy a bi one. Idk what came over me that made me decide to ask her. But then I was worried all day and obsessing over if I'm bi or just OCD.
It's been a rough week. Looking back at my college friend's messages, idk why I believed him so much. I'm so much more confident in my faith that it feels silly that I even accepted the things he said for myself. I know that my God loves me.
But honestly I haven't even been able to tell myself that I'm bi. Part of me is like, why does it even matter, you're in a happy marriage to a good man and have an amazing 2 1/2 son. Obviously I don't want to act on anything, but it feels more like just a fact about me. But I don't really feel valid.
So idk but thoughts are welcome.

On the one hand, I agree she has overdone it at the med spa and is beginning to look like a caricature. But I also think she is probably naturally pretty if she laid off a bit. I also think she is more likely than not an escort and has trashy friends (like Hosie), but I believe that she is at least TRYING to start a business. She shops at Homegoods and does her own home projects. She also cooks and meal preps, and clearly puts in work at the gym. There is no denying her body is legit….and if you look at previous pics, that is more recent.
Genuinely, I think she is just lost and doesn’t have the right people around her. I doubt she fits in with moms from her son’s school, and she doesn’t seem to have a ton of long-term girlfriends. But I do get a much more genuine, nurturing vibe from her than Josie, and I almost feel sorry for her getting swept up into that tornado. Maybe I’m way off base, though. Who knows.
Anyone else seeing what I see?

I just got into an argument with my mom over my cousins and told her I didn't consider her a mom anymore.. We got into an argument because a couple years ago we all had a falling out about certain incidents that had happened between all of us, and we were way younger. For context, in 2016 my grandma died, and we moved in with my cousins and my aunt and my uncle. My uncles first daughter is from another marriage he had a couple years back and she lived most of the time with her mom. Her step dads son had inappropiatly touched her multiple times.And told her that “this is how you show someone that you love them”. She loved her siblings so using that she committed the same acts against them with the same reasoning, and when we moved in, they continued that with us. The oldest daughter (K) was 12. Me (A) and her younger brother(I), were around the age of 10. My cousin's younger sister(M) was 9 and my younger brother (IL) was 7. Therefore, we had no idea what exactly we were doing when this all was going on. A bunch of fighting happened and we moved out and no one knew of the incidents except for us kids. Eventually we all got back and started talking again in 2019 and they moved in with us because they had been homeless for a while. After they moved in, a bunch of arguments were happening and it got to my parents that something had happened years ago. I didn’t exactly explain in depth what happened. All my parents know was that some kind of activity went on that was very inappropriate. We all lost contact with each other because of multiple reasons. Recently I (now 17) got back in contact with my older cousin(K), and she had told me how a lot of things have changed, and I should try and hear them out. And what she had said was true. My uncle and my cousin were both in therapy, getting the help they needed. And nothing else inappropriate was going on and I had known that we had all grown from the situation because we were just kids and we were all now over the age of 12. And we understood what we did was wrong and we wouldn't do it ever again. I've been in contact with them for about a year now and my mom does not agree with me. She tries to put her opinion in and we get into arguments a lot about it all the time. My mom recently brought up that I apparently support them when I know that there's still stuff going on down there, but she refuses to talk to my aunt or my uncle or try and get the details of what actually happened. I told her that she needs to let it go and that she's holding on to it because she doesn't like my uncle and my aunt for multiple reasons as they've had arguments. I always take my cousin's side because my mom doesn't understand the full story and does not want to hear the full story. All she knows is that my cousins had done stuff with us. But it wasn't just my cousins, it was all of us. When she tries to bring up what had happened in the past, I bring up what happened in her past, which is that she used to do drugs She refused to let this go so AITA?

For the first time in a long time, my mom and I sat down and just chatted. We talked about life and had a lot of laughs. But our conversation ended with her bringing up the topic of death, namely her and my father's deaths.
They're in their late 60s right now. My mom has a chronic blood disease, and my dad is recovering from stage 2.5 cancer. He also has some kidney problems. She wasn't trying to be mean, nor was her intent to make me sad, obviously. She was trying to be very realistic with me, and it made sense to bring it up at that point in our conversation. She picked the best time to bring it up and to have a real heart to heart with me about it, even though the "best" time is never really the "right" time with this kind of topic. Nevertheless, it's important to talk about.
She said, "You know, son, your dad and I - we don't have much time left. Maybe 15 years, max, and the last few of those years will probably be spent with us not really being able to do much outside of home. I expect I'll most likely go from a stroke or heart attack, knowing my family history. I may go before your father, and, if that's the case, I hope you can find the time to take care of him when I'm gone".
I didn't know what to say. I honestly could've bursted into tears right at that point, but I'm not the kind of guy to do that. So I just sat there, held back my feelings, and told her, "Don't worry, mom. It's something I think about every now and again. I got your and dad's back. Besides, 15 years is still a very long time, and I'm going to continue to work hard and make money so that I could make these the best 15 years of your life.". And that was that.
I haven't been this sad in a very long time, and I'm usually not really one to confront the types of emotions I'm going through right now, so it's been really hard. I can only imagine a future that's full of despair and loneliness, just imagining a life without my parents. Cherish your parents while they're still healthy. Go watch movies with them, or just say "hi" every once in a while.

This doesn’t directly relate to being a step mom… but I am one. We have a newish baby. 11 weeks old. And I have 2 step sons SS18 (drives) and SS14 (doesn’t. Obviously) and we have them 50%. SS18 is working 2 jobs and going to college so he comes home at like 2-3 am most nights and leaves for work around 11ish most days. SS14 goes to school about 35 mins away (more with traffic). I’m still on maternity leave for another couple weeks. I usually take SS14 to school and pick up because his school is only like 12 mins away from my work. Where as my SO works about 5 mins from our home. My SO has been back to work since the baby was a week old. He will wake up when the baby does at night but doesn’t stay awake to help me. I handle his wake windows basically myself. I will sometimes have him hold the bottle up while I run to pee or whatever but he’s back to snoring again within 5 mins. Anyways he is very into the gym but I said I need his help in the afternoon and it sucks for me when he comes home for 2 mins to change and then leaves for the gym for another 1.5 hours then comes home and showers etc. So he started going to the gym before work. So he wakes up at 5:15 and goes to the gym and then comes home and gets SS14 and takes him to school then goes to work. He starts work at 7 am normally but when SS14 is here he starts at 8 am because of getting SS14 to school (he doesn’t have friends in the area he can get dropped off with early either). So when SS14 is here he gets off work an hour later than normal and then has to drive to get SS14 in rush hour traffic from school and come all the way back home. He keeps complaining EVERY single day that he’s tired. EVERY SINGLE DAY!!!!! It’s like “I’m so exhausted” “I’m sooooo tired” “I’m sore and I’m tired” LIKE I DON’T CARE ANYMORE!!!!! He is saying it every day it’s lost its value lol. I’m tired too but I know I’m off work so I’m not complaining every day. I don’t nap in the day or anything either. Yes I get to be home I know that’s easier than what he’s doing. But shit man. He comes home and goes in the pool to swim and then takes a hundred hours in the bathroom. Then he comes out and sits with the baby on the couch feeding/playing with him/watching his shows. While he does this I finally start doing chores around the house or cooking or both. I’m just sick of hearing he’s tired. IM in bed by 7:45pm with the baby idk wtf he’s doing but if he’s that tired he should go to sleep. Not my fault he’s staying up late to hangout with his kids or up every few hours checking on SS18 via text.

Today my fiancee and her mom went to trade in their phones, swapping their service from Verizon to AT&T. They hooked them up with promos for an apple watch and ipad as well on top of a 15 pro max and a 15 base model. All is well until during the chat, my fiancee mentions she plays video games and the topic moves on to twitch.tv streaming. The sales guy says “You should totally stream and cosplay. You have the body for it” THEN PROCEEDS TO HOLD HIS HANDS UP TO HIS OWN CHEST IN A GRABBING BOOBS MOTION. That’s not all. Then soon after he proceeds to say “Your boyfriend really knows what he’s doing being with you” ???? Motherfucker that’s the most unprofessional shit to say to a paying customer ever. She’s just trying to trade in her phones. Not flirting with him at all, she’s not that kind of person. Her mom was absolutely taken aback. He also had no self control, literally took her mom’s phone and began looking through the camera roll, selecting photos and ZOOMING around on them.
Not to mention now he has her phone number, personal address, and full legal name. I’m worried about reporting because if he does get talked to, he’ll know exactly who reported him and for why, and that could be a safety/retaliatory issue. But I don’t want to just sit around and let it happen, What’s the best way to make sure this is dealt with, and not happening to anyone else?

My brother and I both have a bad relationship and I personally can’t stand to even be around him. Unfortunately, we’re both living together with my other siblings at my parents house. The other day he got in my face and wanted to fight me, and I saw this look in his face that made me feel like he wanted to hurt me badly. Today I tried to ignore him and he started commenting on how I always have this dramatic angry face, and that led to him threatening to fight me again. I won’t lie, I have a sharp tongue and can say some hurtful stuff but doesn’t warrant him coming up to my face and looking at me like he wants to kill me. Since then I haven’t felt safe around him but I’m also not gonna let him hurt me if it were to reach that point.
My brother has a history of being a terrible person and being aggressive towards everyone. I’ve seen him get aggressive with my mom, dad, his ex, his own son, my siblings, and nothing is ever done about it. Everyone seems to be terrified of him but somehow we’re all supposed to accept his behavior. He’s even caused my poor mom health issues and trauma. She’s developed this trembling whenever she gets a little upset.
He also recently stole my dad’s truck for a day and threatened to kill himself. I do want to mention that he’s been threatening to kill himself for the last 3 years whenever he’s held accountable for something or whenever he does something shitty. Like recently he showed up with both my nephew and his ex to his own sons birthday party 2 hours late and that’s what led him to disappearing with my dad’s truck for a day.
I personally don’t care what happens to him at this point, and all I want is for all of this to stop, but he continues to terrorize our lives and my family doesn’t know what to do about it anymore

Science doesn't prove things (new things keep disproving science, and it's all a shit show - cancer, compounds in plastic, things we thought were true before, but "oops" - it's a fucking joke!)
If you're a scientist or into science, you probably think you're smart - but obviously you're not, because new bullshit comes out everyday, disproving your shit, and your mom's a whore (took creampie).
Apparently, there's a blob in the core of the earth now, that we didn't know about before, but we claim to know everything about hundreds of millions of years of history??? Nonsense!! You're all trash, and I would beat your pusdy ass nerd bitch asses the fuck up on the streets! I'm gangster as fuck and I have all the money and do all the drugs, and y'all ain't got shit, and don't know shit about shit - even if you aren't science related, but believe in things like gravity. You're in a fuckin video game simulator, dumb ass shits!!

Back in 2014, I was being babysitted by my moms friends. I would always watch YouTube on my ipad and lay on their couch. One day, I saw this video and I don't remember much but it was some teddy bear in I think a city? And looked around his surroundings seeing that there were other teddy bears on display outside of shops. The teddy was going insane and eventually ran awa but then gets ran over. It then cuts to him being in a hospital.

This is the first time I have written something of this length, and is more of an exercise in self-therapy than anything else. Disclaimer: This story contains conversations about child abuse. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it.
Nathan’s number appeared on my phone screen. I debated whether or not to answer it. We hadn’t been on speaking terms for a while, and while we did keep in touch sporadically, it was usually because of important family issues. I didn’t know of anything happening with mom or dad, nor with Talia or Rio, so I let it go to voicemail. I could always call him back later. I placed the phone back in my pocket, and returned to cleaning my camera. The phone buzzed again. A text message came through. I read the preview line from the home screen. “The city declared eminent domain on the house” I unlocked my phone, read the full text message, and dialed my brother.
I wasn't able to get any closer to the house than a few blocks. Most of the area was blocked off with chain link fencing and construction equipment in preparation for the demolition that was supposed to take place within the coming days. The barriers didn’t prevent people from walking in to the neighborhood, but it hindered scrappers from coming in and stripping the houses of copper wiring and plumbing.
I grabbed my camera bag out of the trunk of my car along with my tripod. I shouldered it and hooked the tripod to my bag. I pulled my water bottle out of the center console and shut the door. I stood next to my car surveying the neighborhood. 12 city blocks of old single family homes comprised the neighborhood where I grew up. Some of the houses had been empty for months, others for years. There was an eerie silence that permeated the still air. I could not hear the familiar sounds of people, pets, or cars. I locked the car and put my keys in my pocket. I patted my jacket down to ensure I had what I needed. After a quick check, I started my walk.
The sidewalk of the old neighborhood streets still bore the familiar cracks and grind marks from years of buckling and remedy. Leaves dropped by the trees still lay scattered all along the pathways and sidewalk. Korina’s house was the first house I encountered as I made my way through a gap in the fence. The yard was overgrown with tall grass and thistle. I could see the faded blue paint of the old house contrasting the green and browns of the lawn. The chain link fence that marked off the corner property was nearly invisible through the thick brush. As I continued walking west towards 110th, I started to feel something was off. The streets seemed wider than I remembered. It took me longer than I’d like to admit, but eventually I realized what was different. There were no cars.
The streets here typically had cars lined bumper to bumper in any spot available, and were visible from block to block. The absence of all these vehicles made me realize just how deserted the neighborhood really was. House after house, yard after yard, the telltale signs of desertion reinforced what I could see from the moment I passed the construction fence: This was no longer my neighborhood. There were no signs of life, and no one I could expect to find still here. Abandonment was the new normal here. I continued on, glancing at houses and recalling memories of summer bike rides, and daily walks with dogs I used to have. I remembered walks home from school, and chasing after ice cream trucks when they passed our houses. I smiled a bit as I remembered more and more of my years spent here. I don’t quite know just why I was smiling. There were plenty of bad memories here too. Fights, yelling, being beat up, being robbed. I could remember failed friendships, lost loves, and bitter feelings of failures too.
Still, I felt a certain amount of nostalgia despite the weight of these negative feelings. I almost wanted to experience everything again, although I wasn't sure why I was feeling this way. Concrete, asphalt, billboards and liquor stores were the normal vistas of everyday life. Occasionally, after a good rainstorm, the grey haze of smog would lift, and the mountains would be visible to the north. At least, they would be visible until mid-morning when the exhaust from a million cars covered them behind a veil of pollution.
It wasn’t until the first time I travelled out of the city that I realized there was more to see. Traveling up the coast north along the Pacific Coast Highway introduced me to scenes of deep blue ocean water spanning the width of my vision. Driving up Highway 3 introduced me to the permeating scent of Pine and Fir trees. The two-lane stretch of highway from Portland to Tillamook introduced me to lush green forests that I had only ever read about. When I came home to the same old dirty, dusty concrete and boiling summer asphalt, I had made up my mind. I would do everything it took to leave this place. I would not spend another day longer than was necessary living in cramped quarters and fighting for parking space.
I arrived to the house, and paused at the gate. The house sat in contrast of what the rest of the neighborhood looked like. Instead of overgrown grass and tall weeds all over the place, the landscaping showed signs of relatively recent work. The guava tree in the front lawn still had some fruit ready to be picked, and the avocado tree on the other side of the pathway was still weighed down by its own fruit. Flowers still bloomed in the raised bed in front of the house. My brother had clearly tried to keep up on things until the last possible moment. The house, too, looked better than what I expected after walking up 4 blocks and seeing nothing but dilapidated houses and unkempt yards. I opened the gate and walked up to the small porch. The metal gate that enclosed it was gone having been removed by my brother when he took over the property. It looked nice to see it open instead of the cage it once felt like.
I turned the knob on the door, but it didn't give. Ever a creature of habit, my brother had locked the door when he left. Of course, he did. I sighed and prepared to find another way in when I remembered my parents hiding a spare key. I wasn’t sure if it would still be there, but after running my hands along the back side of the gutter downspout, I was rewarded for my efforts. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the front living room, the sounds of my footsteps and the closing door echoing in the empty space. The room felt both larger and smaller than I remembered it. I suppose it was lack of furniture that made it feel larger, but it still felt smaller than I remember. The result of growing taller throughout the years I suppose. I slowly walked along the slate tile floor towards the central hallway that connected the front of the house to the back bedrooms. I wasn't entirely sure that just because the front door was locked, that there wasn't some squatter looking for a little temporary shelter within the back rooms. I carefully and silently crept step by step towards what used to be the bedroom shared by my sister and me. I stuck my head in and gave the room a cursory glance. It was empty, thankfully. I moved back into the hallway and peered into the bedroom across the hall. This is where both of my brothers had shared a room. It too, was empty save for a few boxes holding hardware and doorknobs from the closet doors of the bedroom. I walked back towards the back of the house where my parent's bedroom was. The walls in the hallway bore the dusty signs where picture once hung. The bedroom door was open. I stepped inside, and looked around. The old avocado paint that my mom had picked out years ago still adorned the walls. Walking further towards the addition that was the small room my grandma and grandpa lived in showed that there was no one here. I breathed a sigh of relief as I set my bag down and set up my tripod. I reached into my bag a pulled out an envelope of old photos. These were old snapshots that we had all taken at some point in time in the house. There were pictures of all of us sitting at the dining room table playing a game of Monopoly. There was a picture of my brother and sister sitting on a couch in the front living room. There was a picture of me hanging on the bars of the front porch. I looked through them all and held them in place in front of me as if I were holding a window to the past.
Each picture made the lump in my throat grow as I started to struggle to control my emotions. There was history here, and soon it would all be gone. This is the place where my parents had raised four kids. They had taken care of my grandparents in their twilight years here. My Aunt and my grandmother had both died in this house. Birthdays, graduation parties, and anniversaries had been celebrated here. The echoes of life had reverberated within the walls of this place. Now, the house sat silent. It would never again know happy screams of kids having a water-balloon war out in the front yard, nor would it hear the cries of anguish as the matriarch of the family passed away surrounded by her family. What once was a home full of life was now just an empty house made of drywall and paint. I sat there for a moment contemplating just how much family history was actually made here. As I thought hard about my siblings and my parents, I felt pained at the thought of our strained relationships. We had all scattered once we had the opportunity to be free of each other. My oldest brother had married and moved away as soon as possible. My sister now lived in northern California. My parents too had moved away. I was now living in Utah. Only my older brother had remained behind. The lump grew larger in my throat as tears welled up in my eyes. I held back sobs of anger and pain. Why was I hurting? Hadn’t I dealt with these issues already? I walked back to my old bedroom and sat down under the window. I pulled my head down into my knees and cried. I could hear yelling and screaming in my head. Shouting matches between siblings and parents, brothers and sister, rattled inside my brain, making the pain grow. I sat there and cried. I hadn’t cried like this in a long time. Eventually I ran out of tears and tired gasps of sorrow and regret washed over me as a blanket of drowsiness enveloped me. I leaned my head back and fell asleep.
I woke up to the sound of footsteps. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing and hurriedly stood up. Had someone followed me? I knew the police were patrolling the area sporadically. Had they seen me enter the house? I knew there would be a possibility of getting a trespassing citation, but I figured I could either talk my way out of it seeing as to how I was a former resident, or I could probably fight the citation in court if the judge knew why I was there in the first place. Ultimately, passing through the gate had been a calculated risk that I was willing to take for the sake of my art. I got up from my corner of the room and moved towards the door. If there was someone in the house, I needed to know. I didn’t want my gear to stolen, and if there was a cop in the house, I wanted to ensure I didn’t get shot.
I was greeted by the sight of a startled chubby boy standing on the other side of the door. His round cherubic face was crowned by a head of short curly hair. His hazel green eyes stared widely back at me. He clearly didn’t expect someone to be here in the house. His body recoiled in fear as he cowered back towards the hallway. “Wait, what are you doing here?” I asked as non-threateningly as I could. The boy muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you” I replied. “Are you here to rob us?” he timidly responded. “Rob you? What are you talking about?” I asked as confusion set in. “What are you doing here?” It was his turn to be confused. “Uh…I….live here?” he replied. “What do you mean you live here? No one lives-“I stopped midsentence. I hadn’t noticed in my initial shock but the room wasn’t the same. A familiar blue couch caught the corner of my eye. In front of that was an old console TV with a partially broken antenna hanging on the wall behind it. I walked further in to the living room to notice wood paneling on the walls. A large mirror hung on the wall to my left. Familiar yellow lamps sat on round drop-leaf tables on either side of the couch. A large hutch sat in one corner, a collection of letters and bills, mail advertisements, and a phone book covered scattered over it. “What just happened?” I asked out loud to no one in particular. I was thoroughly mystified by what my eyes were seeing. I had walked into the house from the front door and had stepped into an empty white room with slate floor tiles, but somehow now found myself in a furnished room with brown carpet that was all so familiar to me, yet was nothing but a distant faded memory. I turned to look at the boy still startled by the intrusion of a strange man looking wildly around the room in total shock.
“You can take what you want, just please let me go. I don’t want problems.” He stated his voice still shrill with anxiety. I blinked a few times as I tried to process just what the heck was going on. I gathered my thoughts as best I could and tried to reassure him. “Kid, I’m not here to rob anyone. I was just-“I shook my head “Where the hell am I? Am I having a dream?” I asked myself. “I must be dreaming. I’m just tired and still sleeping. This is all a dream. Yeah, that’s it.” I needed to sit down. Being back in the old house must have overtaxed my senses, I told myself. I’d having a dream about an old memory. I walked over to the chair next to the couch and sat down. I sunk into it and rested my head back towards the wall.
The boy kept his distance, but sensed I wasn’t there to hurt him. He looked me over with anxious curiosity. He stood at the far end of the couch, examining me while he played out scenarios in his head in preparation for a quick exit. “Why are you in my house?” he asked me. “Dude, this is all just a dream I’m having. I’m not really here.” He reached over to the couch and picked up a pillow. He reared his arm and threw it at me. It landed in my lap. “I don’t know, man. You sure seem to be here.” He said to me. I opened my eyes, startled. I looked down at the pillow he tossed and examined it. I ran my hand over the fabric and felt its texture. I remember this pillow. This was the pillow I would roll under my head as I lay on the couch and watched TV as a kid. A sudden realization hit me as I looked around the room with fresh eyes. No longer was I blinded by the fog of confusion. I knew exactly where I was.
I was home.
I looked at the boy still standing at the edge of the couch. I looked him over and realized who he actually was. I stared in disbelief as I smiled and tried to put him at ease. “It’s ok Johnny. I’m not here to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. Please, sit down” I told him. I motioned to his end of the couch. “Who are you, and why are you here?” he asked me.
“This will be hard to believe, but I’m you” I said with an incredulous tone, “I’m not sure how I ended up here, but I’m here.” He looked at me as I had grown a second head. “That doesn’t make any sense. How could you be me? Did we invent time travel? Oh! Are we secret government agents with the CIA?”
I chuckled. “Wait, wait, wait. Let’s start at the beginning. I’m you at 38 years old. You’re…what, 11… 12 years old? It makes sense. I fell asleep under the window in my- our old bedroom. I didn’t come here on purpose or in a machine. And no, I’m not a government agent.” His face contorted to display understanding, disappointment and finally suspicion. His eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards me. “How do I know you’re really me?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment. How could I prove to him that I was who I said I was? A few seconds of silence settled between us. I stroked my chin, thinking of a solution.
“I have a better idea. Ask me questions that only you know the answers to.” “Okay” he responded. He glanced around the room trying to come up with something. His eyes fixated on the Nintendo sitting under the TV cabinet. “What game do me and Nathan have a map of?” I looked over at the NES. I hadn’t thought about this for years, but I knew instantly what he was asking. “YOU don’t have anything. Nathan is the one that made the map for Section Z” His jaw dropped. He tried to trick me, but his plan failed. He knew well and good that Nathan never let him play. It was always ‘I’ll let you play when I die’ or, ‘you can play when I’m done’. The problem was that he never followed through. Usually by the time Nathan was done, the NES was overheated, and the game would no longer load until it cooled down. By that point, it was time for bed.
“How do you know that?” he asked in astonishment. “I know these things because I’m you. Just like I know that you wear t-shirts to the pool because you’re embarrassed by what others will think of your body. I know that you used to think that people that die off in movies were prisoners that were set to be executed from death row, so they used them for making movies. I know all about you because I’m you”
Johnny sat on the end of the couch in bewilderment, his mouth slightly agape. He had never told anyone any of this. He didn’t have any close friends to talk to about such things, and those friends he did have were more acquaintances than friends. There was only one way he could possibly know these things. He was talking to his future self.
I could see Johnny’s mind completely explode. There lay endless possibility and the answers to a million questions he could ask about his own future. He started to ask a question, only to stop, close his mouth, and try asking another. I knew if he kept this up he would have a stroke or something. “Dude, calm yourself. Let’s talk this out rationally, otherwise you’ll end up stroking out or something.” I told him. He took a deep breath and I could hear him muttering quietly. I knew he was trying to form a coherent sentence before he actually spoke it. I did it all the time. “Ok, first of all, are we rich?” he asked with tempered expectation. I chuckled and grinned back at him. “No, not at all. If I was rich, would I be dressed like this?” I replied as I motioned to my beat up brown Vans and worn out jeans and T-shirt. “We-, I – make enough to get by. I’m not poor, but I earn enough to pay the bills.” His face grew a smirk as he commented “Yeah, I figured. What do I do for work? I mean, what do you do for work?” I thought about it for a second. I wondered how much information I should divulge to a younger me. I still didn’t think this whole situation was really happening, but if it was, I probably should proceed with caution. “Well, it’s complicated. I do a little bit of everything. You know how you’re constantly taking things apart? Let’s just say that it’s good to put them back together in order to keep them working. Take good notes on paper if you need to, and make sure you have a clean work area so you can keep track of all the parts.” He gave me a sheepish look. He knew exactly what I was talking about. I had spent countless hours sneaking dad’s tools to my room so I could figure out how something was built and try to figure out how it worked. I had gotten myself into some pretty bad trouble with dad over a drill, his timing light, and other stuff I had taken from his room. His belt had become quite familiar with my butt cheeks.
I gave him a knowing smile. “What else do you want to know?” He thought about it for a second. “Do we have a girlfriend?” I laughed, probably a little more than I should have because his face contorted into a sour frown. “You don’t need to be a jerk about it” he scowled. I continued to chuckle. “Yeah we have a girlfriend. We have more than a girlfriend” I could tell he was irritated with my vague indirect answers. I knew what he was asking. I remember the crush I had on my neighbor across the street. We had been friends since kindergarten, and had been classmates for 1st, 2nd, and 4th grades. We got along really well, and I knew from around 12 or 13 that I wanted to be her boyfriend. Unfortunately, things never progressed beyond the ‘just friends’ stage of things. It wasn’t from lack of effort on my part. We had just grown up together most of our lives that she didn’t see me as anything more than a brother and friend. “Dude, look. You just started to go through changes and you are starting to notice girls, but that doesn’t mean that you need to love every girl that shows you a little kindness or subtle interest. You need to slow down and let things happen naturally. You can’t force a relationship with someone.” Johnny pondered these words for a moment. I sat back and put my feet up on the coffee table. I looked around the room some more while I waited for another question. There was so much I had forgotten, but being back here had unlocked more and more memories that continued to wash over me. I was trying to hold on to my cool as not all those churned up recollections were pleasant. I stood up and walked over to the front door to peer outside the small central window embedded into the center of it. I could see the old neighborhood as I remembered it all those years ago. The lot across the street that served as a parking area for those that worked at the wheel works at the end of the block was empty of cars. I furrowed my brow as I thought for a moment. An empty lot meant it was afterhours or the weekend.
The gears in my own head started turning. “Wait, where is everyone?” I asked Johnny. Johnny turned to look at me still processing my last response. “Uh..oh, Mom and dad are out of town. They took a trip east this time. I think Rio said they are in Arizona right now. Rio and Nathan went out to get some food and to rent some movies from Video Showcase. Knowing them they’ll eat out first. Talia is staying over at Tia Rosie’s place today with her friends.” I grunted at his response. My mind was wandering as he mentioned Talia and Tia Rosie.
A sudden sharp pain pieced my heart. The pain of a thousand memories now unsealed spilled out from the box I had locked them away in. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes as I turned back to look at Johnny. He felt it too. He stared at the floor with an intensity that made me think it would burst into flames at any moment. I walked back over to him and sat next to him. He didn’t move. I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he threw himself into me. I could feel the tears dripping onto me as he sobbed intensely. “Hey man, its ok. It’s going to be ok.” I said as my own tears started to flow uncontrollably. I pulled him close and draped my other arm around him.
I knew the pain he was feeling. It was such a heavy burden, and I knew there was no one he felt he could talk to. I remembered it all so vividly. We sat there for what seemed to be an eternity. When we finally stopped sobbing, and our noses ran dry, we tried to breathe our way through to calmness. I got up and knelt in front of him. “Johnny, listen to me and remember what it is that I’m about to say to you. You are stronger than you think. You are stronger than you believe. NO ONE should ever have to go through this. Just because it happened to Talia, doesn’t mean you have to put up with it any longer. I know you didn’t think it was wrong, but I’m telling you that what she is doing to you is wrong. Talking to mom and dad isn’t going to make them hate you. You are not doing this to her, she is doing it to you. I’m not making excuses for her, but she is also more damaged than anyone realizes, and she is also dealing with the same level of pain you are. Remember that we do unto others what has been done to us. That doesn’t mean we need to continue the cycle of abuse” The lump in my throat grew immense at my own statement. I swallowed it as best I could and continued “You are going to deal with this pain a little bit at a time, and you’ll slowly get over this. It’s like a broken bone. When it happens, you don’t realize how bad the pain is until the adrenaline wears off, but then the immense pain is there. Just remember that this will pass. Just like a broken bone, you will heal over time, and one day, you will realize that the pain is gone and the bone is no longer broken. You’ll remember the pain, but it won’t hurt anymore.”
Johnny sat there in stunned silence. I knew he didn’t have anyone to help him through this. He couldn’t talk to Rio or Nathan about what was going on. Mom and Dad were constantly working to keep the family fed and sheltered and while they provided materially for their kids, emotional help was less available. Perhaps it was due to their energies being divided into 4 kids, a mortgage and multiple jobs, or perhaps it was also the culture of not talking about problems. Either way, they needed to know what was happening. They wouldn’t be able to fix it otherwise. “They’re going to be mad at me” he finally said after a few moments of silence. “No they won’t be. They love us all. I know you’re not used to hearing it, but they do love you. Everything they do is because of their love for us. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. Telling them isn’t going to cause them to be angry.” I thought for a moment to find a good analogy. “You love Odie and Lady, right?” He nodded in agreement. “Ok, how would you feel if you knew someone you trusted was coming to the house and beating up our dogs when we weren’t around?” He thought about it for a second before his face changed to anger. “I’d want to kill them!” “Yes, but would you also feel sad that you weren’t there to try to protect them?” I reasoned. His face changed again. He understood what I was saying. Mom and Dad would be angry, but not necessarily at him. They would also feel a great sadness knowing that someone was hurting their child.
I smiled at him. He understood. I nodded. “Dude…You’re going to come to understand that life is not what you think it will be. Life is messy and can change in an instant. The plans you make today may not make it to next week. A lifelong goal can be derailed because of something out of your control. Mom and dad have spent their life protecting us with the goal of keeping us safe, but circumstances out of their control have affected their kids, and now we- you all have to deal with the fallout. Just remember that you are not the culprit. Yes, mom and dad will be hurt and angry, but not at you. Trust them. They don’t do things to hurt us” Johnny hugged me. I- He didn’t have many people he could trust and open up to. He liked to talk a lot about everything going on in his life, no matter how trivial. Everything, except this. This was a shameful topic, and he didn’t feel like anyone would understand why he didn’t go to an adult sooner. The problem was simple. He simply didn’t understand that it was wrong. Now that he had an adult that he could talk to, himself no less, he wanted to lift this burden off his shoulders. He was happy to have found someone and he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back just at tightly. It wasn’t every day that I could meet my younger self and help to comfort them. “Thank you” he said to me.
The world darkened, and everything faded to black.
I lifted my head out of my knees and looked around. I was sitting under the window in my old bedroom again. Had I fallen asleep? I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. I was emotionally drained and incredibly tired. I hadn’t had sleep like that in years. I got to my feet and looked around the room briefly before walking out to mom and dad’s old room. I grabbed my camera and slowly walked the house, snapping picture after picture. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the camera shutter and my soft footsteps. I thought about my dream as I took pictures.
Upon entering my room, a random memory hit me.
The stash.
I was pretty sure I had taken the hidden box when I moved out all those years ago, but since I was here, I should double check. Heading into the closet, I pushed the panel that led to the attic space out of the way and peered in. I couldn’t see anything, so I reached up there to feel around. The box was indeed gone. I felt around for a few more seconds and was surprised to feel what felt like a thick envelope. I didn’t remember leaving anything up there, but after pulling it down and giving it a cursory glance, I figured it was an old envelope of lost love letters. It wasn’t until I blew off the thick layer of dust that I realized what I was holding. It was a letter. Not just any letter. It was addressed to me.
Under the now semi-cleared layer of dust were the words “To be opened by future me”. I looked at it for a few moments before opening it. I couldn’t remember making this at all, much less storing it up in my secret hiding spot. If ever I hid something, it was in the stash box. My hands shook a bit as I started to open the envelope and pulled out the yellowed pages inside. I started reading.
"Dear Future John. I have spent the last few years remembering a dream I had when I was younger. Life was…difficult at that time, and I spent a lot of time escaping my reality by reading a lot of books and watching a lot of TV. On the off-chance that what I think is a dream really happened. I wanted to write some things down in an effort to give you my thanks. I merely consider myself a conveyer of thanks, although I will pile on my own thanks to you for your words of encouragement. I remember finding a stranger in the house one day while I was home alone. I was afraid he was there to hurt me at first, but after a few moments, I came to realize I was meeting myself. Well, I was meeting me, but from the future. I think he said he was in his 40’s, but I couldn’t tell you with any certainty. Either way, we talked. We talked about life, and what the future held in store for us…
Mostly though, we talked about the abuse. Well, Talked is being generous. We cried, and then we talked. I don’t remember exactly what he told me, but I remember how he made me feel. He made me feel safe. I felt like I could trust him. Trust myself. In the end, he gave me the courage to stand up for myself both at home and at school. He also gave me the courage to talk to mom and dad about what was going on between me and Talia. I do remember being afraid that I would be punished, but he reassured me that they wouldn’t, and that they loved me.
It was a difficult and awkward conversation, but in the end, arrangements were made for me to share a room with Rio and Nathan. I didn’t have much of a relationship with Talia for a long while, but after some years, we managed to patch things up. She apologized to me, and I came to understand the abuse she herself was subjected to by so-called family friends. She didn’t tell me this in an effort to excuse it, but to merely help give me closure to a difficult time from my own childhood. Mom and dad promised to be more attentive to us and we sort of established what I guess you would call an open door policy. We talk more about stuff that’s happening in our lives. Mom is much easier to talk to now. Dad is a little more patient with us too. I apologized to them for not coming to them sooner, and dad gave me a “nugget of wisdom” that I think I’ll live by: We can’t fix what we don’t know is broken. I’ve tried to make sure I talk to them when something is wrong, and I’ve tried to implement that in my life so I don’t have problems with other people.
I’m trying to grow up to be a good guy. I want to have good relationships with people. Nathan says I’m turning into a people pleaser, but I don’t necessarily see that as a terrible thing. I know when to say no to someone. Well, either way, I wanted to make sure I thank you for the help you gave us. I probably won’t remember writing this, but I hope I do find it again someday. Here’s hoping I turn into the man I feel you are. -John Age 16."
I stared at the letter, the words blurring as tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly brushed them away as I quietly spoke to no one in particular. “Thanks guys. I hope I live up to your expectations” I folded the letter, placed it in my pocket, and walked out of the room. After picking up my backpack and tripod, I silently walked towards the front door, my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I turned to look back at the empty living room one last time, and after a moment, I walked out.

Student background: I have a student whose name I will change to Devon for privacy purposes. He is in third grade. Repeated 2nd. He has broken every rule in the book: Be Safe, Be Kind, Be Respectful, and Be Responsible. He is physically aggressive, verbally aggressive, elopes class multiple times daily, is often disrespectful, and is very disruptive. He has used every insult you can think of and it doesn’t matter if you’re a kindergartner or adult. He has said horrible things to almost everyone, steals from other students and then aggressively smashes their things for fun, has held freshly sharpened pencils to other students’ necks and asked them if they want to die, laughs mockingly at others, doesn’t listen to authority (in fact shows defiance and refusal if you tell him anything), doesn’t do any work, the list goes on and on and on. And issues happen ALL. DAY. EVERY. DAY. Not a day goes by without incident. Collectively as a school, the specialists teachers, admin, and I have documented as much as we could and it could very well be as thick as a Harry Potter book. Every teacher and staff member at my school sympathizes and agrees that he is super challenging, and they tell me even the most veteran teachers would struggle with him.
Now, for my background: I haven’t yet received an official diagnosis for PMDD but I have received one for bipolar (which I don’t think I have but it seems that there are many other women who have been misdiagnosed with bipolar in this community prior to their PMDD diagnosis) and was one criteria away from an official ADHD diagnosis.
I also tend to show extreme hormonal sensitivity every time I start a new pack of birth control every month and show a lot of irritability and anger and other mood swings and all of that happens again like clockwork before my period. I get…ragey. It almost cost my relationship with my boyfriend of seven years multiple times in the past. I’m better at managing my emotions with my partner and family but not at work… Teachers, you know how stressful this job is. We have to wear every hat and smile through all the disrespect and overwork and little pay. But we love kids and value education and that’s why we do this.
Anyway, I learned from Devon’s dad yesterday that his mom left the family when Devon was 3 years old. He is the youngest child in the family. His dad in our meeting yesterday also said that he believes his son is constantly seeking attention (in the most negative ways) to fill in this void and that’s why he acts out. The mom has had a strong presence in the older siblings lives and barely any in Devon’s life.
So, the story is… I have showed restraint and professionalism and bit my tongue since the third month of school and we have 6 actual school days left now. I almost got fired for lashing out at Devon once before. But I’ve ignored most of his behavior since the third month of school and let admin take care of it. Also note that I’m not coming back next year since my admin didn’t renew my teaching contract for not having good classroom management. End is near, not coming back anyway, my most well-behaved kids are acting unruly, had a medical emergency and a loss in the past month, and I’ve HAD IT with Devon’s nonsense. We just started eating breakfast this morning. School just began. And already, Devon and his bff Bruno are picking a fight with one of my most well-behaved students who I’ll call Sam. Devon’s laughing and egging my well-behaved student Sam to fight Bruno. Then my well-behaved student who is clearly done with Devon’s nonsense gets mad and gets in Devon’s face, ready to fight. Devon says to get out of his face and I’m OVER IT. I’m thinking, “WHY DOES THIS KID CAUSE PROBLEMS EVERY DAY?! SCHOOL JUST STARTED!” I walked past him and was someone else. I just started UNLEASHING upon him everything I’ve been holding back. He’s disrespectful, he’s mean, he causes problems every day, and I ended it with “and that’s why your mom left you when you were three.”
…………Not my finest moment.
I felt horrible after and thought, “Holy moly WHAT DID I DO…? How did I let myself say something like that?”
I apologized three times to him. He looked really sad. Whole third grade staff and third grade students and admin knows. Again they sympathize but tell me it still wasn’t cool. My boyfriend, same thing. Said he sympathizes and said I was probably better off just calling him dumb and ugly.
A colleague told me since my contract isn’t getting renewed that I should take a break from teaching for the sake of my mental health. But I don’t know what other careers to pursue that aren’t going to require tuition from a university again. I have a bachelor’s in psychology, an initial teaching license, and am struggling financially as it is. I need to make at least $50k a year pre-tax to keep up with my bills.
Yikes. Thoughts? Advice?
Edit: fixed typos and fixed fake names, whoops!

Ok. I’m a first time mom, currently 35 weeks and my husband and I have been struggling to find a name. We initially loved the name Zayn but we stayed away from it bc my brother has a zayne and my friend (who moved to a diff state btw) also named her son that.
Idk I feel like Im overthinking but I also don’t know what to do. My husband and I love this name and feel like it fits so well with our names and our family. It’s easier for people to say too than the other names we liked.
Should I have a conversation with anyone or should I just do it and live my life?
Edit: my nephew is 8 years old now so theres a age gap too

So, 29 yr old step son had a meltdown this week end. Hearing things, thinks i am actually the devil, etc. Assaulted his mother and me. Mom called police and he was arrested for assault. The family took him to a mental health hospital once he was released from jail. There is a no contact order with me (his step father). Mom now regrets calling 911 and wants him sprung from tge mental health facility and blames me for his arrest. She is an alcoholic, so I know she has issues herself. I just need to vent. If anyone has some advice on how to cope, please share. Thank for listening.

Back story, this is about my kindergarten aged daughter’s best friend. She lives in the neighboring townhome of our conjoined building. She doesn’t have a father in her life and at first it seemed like she was looking to my husband to fill that role.
Immediately I have to say it was not an ideal situation from the very beginning . We’re temporarily renting and have been waiting on land complications to clear up so we can begin building. Even if the girls were to manage staying close, the amount of time they would spend together would drop dramatically. So her looking to my husband to fill that void would have been sad in the end.
Recently she’s been making him uncomfortable, friends have seen her behaviors and so have some other family members. Because she lives right next door and her mom just casts her off to us in order to get some quiet, our family members have also seen her around him. She tries to climb on his shoulders and his back when he’s loving on his own kids and giving them affection. She’s physically knocked our kids off his lap to sit there herself. She asks him to watch her instead of our own children when they want to show us something they can do.
I’m serious.
She’s asked him to watch her do the splits and tries to go in the bathroom when he either goes to use the toilet or shower after work because he works with metal and wires and can’t touch our kids until the shavings are gone. We have always had a very strict rule about boys and girls not being in the bathroom together. My daughter’s friend is well aware of the “knock first” policy if the bathroom door is closed.
My husbands mom even witnessed this behavior and has said it is best if I am always home so that she can never put him in a compromising situation that makes him look like he’s tried to do anything to her. Especially if he were to say something that upset her and made her run back and make her mom assume the worst.
I thought “thats impossible, what would a 6 year old know that could get a grown man in trouble without it actually happening.”
Except that we’ve told our son right in front of her that little girls aren’t supposed to see boys undressed because he would strip down butt naked in front of her to put on his favorite costume. 🫠
I know my husband would NEVER. But I don’t know what this child has been exposed to, she’s been staring at him constantly when she is over and only interacting with him. She won’t go into the play area where they are supposed to be, he won’t go to the play area if she’s there. He stays stressed. He’s specifically asked to enforce less visits. And we’ve cut them out by half but her living next door makes it difficult to avoid.
I get it may just be a crush, but it’s creeping everyone out.

Hey I need to vent.
My son is so in his preteen face and it's irking me. It's like I can't wait for him to grow up. I hate when they are so appreciative and ungrateful. He's just been very hard headed and argumentative. For no reason. Just stuff you tell him to do. Yesterday he hurt his finger. I been icing since late yesterday and it was swollen still. He can wiggle a little bit but said he hurt it on the slide. I'm not having a good week. I have mass amounts of debt. Paid 900 on my tired unexpectedly this week, tags, sheriff at my door for a credit card I didn't pay five years ago, working late to catch up on appointments. Trying to pay for camp so he don't be at home. My mom doesn't live here. Student loans calling me. Had to reschedule my payments for IRS. Applied to many side jobs. I am just so damn tired of everything!!!!!!!!

Sorry for bad the bad english, I'm german.
My mom often times took me to my grandparents for one week or a weekend to stay. My mother and my grandma always almost got in trouble with each other and fought. When the fight was at its highest point, I always had to choose a side, between driving home with my mom or staying at my grandparents house. I was standing between my outraged mother and outraged grandmother. I had to pick a side as a 6 year old. I often stayed at my grandma's house because the drive home with my mom was always hell. I remember being completely exhausted after sitting in a car with my mother for 1 hour. I always listened to music so I hadn't have to hear her talking. I could never explain it, but I somehow never loved my mother (I found out very late that she is a narcissist). I could never explain why I hated her so much sometimes. I always felt bad because of it. My uncles and aunt always talked bad behind my mother's back. It's sad to think about that my mother was the scapegoat of the family. But she still ended as a narcissist. It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that my grandma is a narcissist who made my mother grow up to be a narcissist. It was so subtle how the rest of my family schemed against her, using me, her only son. That doesn't excuse the childhood abandonment and emotional abuse from her. It's still sad somehow.

Okay so im a 17 year old mom and I’m tired of living here at this house. My grandmas house. My parents are living here too! And they are very controlling and toxic. They can’t save money for nothing. They don’t have a house. My son god mother told me she talked to one of her lawyer friends and said basically I could leave because they can’t provide for me and I can just live with my boyfriend. But she not sure how the laws here in Texas are because in California it’s different. My parents always threaten me and stuff. So I have told them before I was gonna leave and they said they were going to call the cops on us so I got scared because I didn’t want them to get in trouble ( my boyfriend and his parents) but now that I know all that I want to leave now. I turn 18 in 5 months and I don’t want to wait. I don’t know what to do or how to do it. I’m going to talk to my boyfriend soon see what he thinks. But do yall have any advice? Like any lawyers in Texas or anything!

I came across a video today where the pregnant mom said she never felt the cute little 'flutters' that kicks are often described as. Instead, she said they felt more like muscle spasms!
Suddenly, I realized I (21w, FTM) have been feeling kicks for at least a week or two! It made sense that what I was feeling were kicks, but I'd never had words put to the sensation, and it was spot-on for me.
What are some other ways you would describe how your baby's kicks felt? Perhaps your words could help another first-timer start to connect more with their little one <3

I've really loved this show from the beginning, but one of the most frustrating aspects for me has been the way they handle the deaths of main characters. I feel like there's never a narrative purpose or connection to actual story telling, it's always been for shock value, and often in a way that robs the audience of payoff from long established storylines.
For example, when Dr. Melendez died, it was literally just because they hadn't killed a main character yet. They wanted to be "honest" with the audience, that sometimes bad things just happen. The problem is, they had spent several seasons establishing a potential relationship between him and Claire, and ultimately robbed the audience of that payoff. And when the audience is left frustrated from unresolved plotlines, it kind of takes away from the gravity of the character's death.
Asher's death was also sudden and unexpected, but I do think that it would have been handled better had we actually had a full season. I would have loved to see a more drawn out C plot of Asher coming to terms with his religion, hints of antisemitism in the community. Maybe an episode where he is treating someone that is vocally antisemtitic (maybe this exists but I can't remember it right now). A storyline where he ultimately comes to terms with his religion, he and Jerome get engaged and have a big Jewish wedding (audience payoff), and then he is tragically murdered. I know they had Asher killed in a hate crime to make a statement, but it feels like it was very rushed and the message feels kind of hollow. Ultimately not a bad choice to kill the character off, but poorly executed.
And now we come to Glassy and Claire. I'm going to be honest- Glassman should have died a long time ago. The series itself has been focused on Shawn's growth as a doctor but also as a person. At the beginning of the series, Shawn was very dependent on Glassman to stick up for him, validate his ideas, and interpret social interactions. But now Shawn is a very competent and respected surgeon in his own right, with a wife and son. He has a whole network of people who help him navigate socially. Glassman is still a really important presence in Shawn's life, but Shawn is no longer dependent on him. And the ultimate challenge to that growth would be to see what Shawn does when Glassman dies. But we're being denied that, because he's dying at the very end of the series. So what is the point in him dying?
As for Claire....I just want to give her a hug. The girl cannot have nice things! First her estranged father comes back, and he dies. Then she starts to repair her relationship with her mom, but looky there, she dies too. And when she finally starts to get a shred of happiness with Dr. Melendez, you guessed it, he dies. Claire is not allowed to have nice things. The writers finally put her out of her misery by giving her a beautiful send off where she finds fulfillment in helping people. Despite how they treated her, the writers knew she was a fan favorite and I was initially really excited when I first learned she was coming back for the finale. But my heart sank at that first promo when they said she had cancer. Why bring back a fan favorite, who you knew the audience loved and you had already given a nice send off, just to kill her off in the last episode? I know we don't actually know what's going to happen because the finale isn't until next week, but with their track record of making Claire the punching bag, I'm expecting the worst.
Now I'm not saying you can't kill off main characters- you can and absolutely should if it makes sense for the story/narrative. I've just been deeply unsatisfied with the way all major character deaths have been handled thus far. I'd be interested to see what others have thought about them. /endrant