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Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity

2015.06.03 06:16 Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity

Electromagnetic Hypersensitivity is an officially recognized disability in Sweden (this is not recognized as an illness because no diagnosis exists for this condition).” Professor Johansson gave the example of a head ache “ how can one measure the pain or prove the existence of a head ache?” Sweden ranks in the top 10 in the world for healthcare. Magnetic Flux poses the largest threat to individuals with EMHS.
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2024.05.15 05:30 delibirdguy Top 500 Songs Ever (Subjective)

Over the course of the past few months I have been working on compiling a list of my 500 favorite songs. It was sort of challenge that I gave myself and I'm super pumped with how it turned out. There were a few rules (only 5 songs per artist being the big rule, among a few others), and here's the list I came up with. Thought it was fun, so wanted to share here and see if it might spark any discussion about song placement, lack of songs/artists, or see if anyone had any similar lists. All thoughts are welcome! (and if you don't care to comb through all 500 songs for your favorite song or artist I'm more than happy to help you track 'em down)

  1. Trash Panda - Aging out of the 20th Century
  2. Djo - Roddy
  3. The Beatles - Don't Let Me Down
  4. Snail Mail - Heat Wave
  5. Phoebe Bridgers - Savior Complex
  6. Joji - SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK
  7. The Shins - The Fear
  8. Talking Heads - This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody)
  9. The Cranberries - Linger
  10. Post Animal - Ralphie
  11. Hop Along - Not Abel
  12. The Beach Boys - Heroes And Villains
  13. Electric Light Orchestra - Livin' Thing
  14. The Monkees - As We Go Along
  15. Blondie - Heart Of Glass
  16. The Strokes - Oblivius
  17. Chet Baker - It's Always You
  18. The Beatles - Rain
  19. Electric Light Orchestra - Telephone Line
  20. Husbands - Must Be a Cop
  21. Faces - Ooh La La
  22. The Flaming Lips - Do You Realize??
  23. Frank Ocean - Nights
  24. Harry James - It's Been a Long, Long Time
  25. The Turtles - Happy Together
  26. Etta James - At Last
  27. The Zombies - The Way I Feel Inside
  28. The Beatles - Here, There And Everywhere
  29. The Beach Boys - God Only Knows
  30. Kanye West - Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1
  31. Briston Maroney - Sinkin'
  32. John Lennon - Oh My Love
  33. Herb Alpert & The Tijuana Brass - Ladyfingers
  34. Squirrel Flower - Headlights
  35. The Backseat Lovers - Maple Syrup
  36. The B-52's - Rock Lobster
  37. George Harrison - All Things Must Pass
  38. Snail Mail - Ben Franklin
  39. Laura Elliott - Grass Stains
  40. Djo - Chateau (Feel Alright)
  41. Tame Impala - Eventually
  42. The Backseat Lovers - Snowbank Blues
  43. Claude Debussy - Clair de Lune
  44. The Weeknd - Save Your Tears
  45. Talking Heads - Thank You for Sending Me an Angel
  46. The Zombies - Time of the Season
  47. The War On Drugs - Nothing to Find
  48. Queen - Brighton Rock
  49. The Dream Academy - Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want
  50. The B-52's - Strobe Light
  51. The Cranberries - Dreams
  52. Fugees - Killing Me Softly With His Song
  53. Molchat Doma - Тоска
  54. Tyler, The Creator - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
  55. The Mamas & The Papas - Dream A Little Dream Of Me
  56. The Chords - Sh-Boom
  57. The Beatles - The Abbey Road Medley
  58. The Ronettes - Be My Baby
  59. The Who - Baba O'Riley
  60. Dr. Dog - Where'd All the Time Go?
  61. M83 - My Tears Are Becoming A Sea
  62. Billie Eilish - everything i wanted
  63. Outkast - Hey Ya!
  64. Nat King Cole - Orange Colored Sky
  65. The Notorious B.I.G. - Hypnotize
  66. Four Tops - Reach Out I'll Be There
  67. Foreign Air - Shut Up and Show Me
  68. Leonard Cohen - So Long, Marianne
  69. dodie - If I'm Being Honest
  70. Briston Maroney - June
  71. Post Malone - Sunflower
  72. John Lennon - Isolation
  73. Buddy Holly & The Crickets - Not Fade Away
  74. Phoebe Bridgers - I Know The End
  75. Kanye West - All Falls Down
  76. Alvvays - Adult Diversion
  77. John Lennon - Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)
  78. Clairo - Amoeba
  79. The Beach Boys - I Know There's An Answer
  80. Paul McCartney - Let Me Roll It
  81. Frank Ocean - Ivy
  82. Radiohead - Motion Picture Soundtrack
  83. Djo - Mutual Future (Repeat)
  84. Phoebe Bridgers - Scott Street
  85. Childish Gambino - Me and Your Mama
  86. Pink Floyd - Astronomy Domine
  87. The Pied Pipers - Dream
  88. The Beach Boys - All I Wanna Do
  89. Djo - Change
  90. Второй этаж поражает - Крайности
  91. Little Richard - Lucille
  92. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Shanghai
  93. Chet Baker - Deep In A Dream
  94. The Beatles - It's All Too Much
  95. Post Animal - Dirtpicker
  96. The B-52's - Love Shack
  97. EDEN - foreve/over
  98. Kanye West - Ultralight Beam
  99. The Zombies - Going Out Of My Head
  100. Talking Heads - Found a Job
  101. Snail Mail - Pristine
  102. Tom Tom Club - Genius of Love
  103. Tears For Fears - Everybody Wants To Rule The World
  104. WILLIS - I Think I Like When It Rains
  105. Chet Baker - But Not For Me
  106. Naked Eyes - Always Something There to Remind Me
  107. Tyler, The Creator - GONE, GONE / THANK YOU
  108. Djo - Half Life
  109. Trash Panda - Check Please
  110. Briston Maroney - Deep Sea Diver
  111. Beach Fossils - This Year
  112. Momma - Medicine
  113. Hop Along - Prior Things
  114. Talking Heads - Road to Nowhere
  115. Electric Light Orchestra - Turn to Stone
  116. Briston Maroney - It's Not My Fault
  117. Tyler, The Creator - NEW MAGIC WAND
  118. Snail Mail - Headlock
  119. Phil Collins - Take Me Home
  120. Gotye - Somebody That I Used To Know
  121. The Beach Boys - Do It Again
  122. Tame Impala - Breathe Deeper
  123. Ella Fitzgerald - Misty
  124. Phoebe Bridgers - Waiting Room
  125. Kanye West - Runaway
  126. Daft Punk - Get Lucky (feat. Pharrell Williams and Nile Rodgers)
  127. Dire Straits - Money for Nothing
  128. Kendrick Lamar - Alright
  129. Black Country, New Road - Concorde
  130. George Harrison - If Not for You
  131. Harry Styles - Cherry
  132. Ms. Lauryn Hill - Doo Wop (That Thing)
  133. Paul McCartney - Junk
  134. Wings - Maybe I'm Amazed [Live]
  135. Talking Heads - Houses in Motion
  136. Del Water Gap - Ode to a Conversation Stuck in Your Throat
  137. Pixies - Where Is My Mind?
  138. Queen - Seven Seas Of Rhye
  139. Paul McCartney - Jet
  140. Sufjan Stevens - Death with Dignity
  141. A Flock Of Seagulls - I Ran (So Far Away)
  142. Tame Impala - Let It Happen
  143. Led Zeppelin - Whole Lotta Love
  144. Clairo - Management
  145. Tommy James & The Shondells - I Think We're Alone Now
  146. Fergie - Clumsy
  147. Childish Gambino - This Is America
  148. Prefab Sprout - The King of Rock 'N' Roll
  149. Joy Again - Looking Out for You
  150. Beach House - Space Song
  151. John Lennon - Mind Games
  152. The Weeknd - Gasoline
  153. Weezer - Buddy Holly
  154. Phoebe Bridgers - Sidelines
  155. Tame Impala - New Person, Same Old Mistakes
  156. Lana Del Rey - A&W
  157. The Dillards - I've Just Seen a Face
  158. The Doors - Break on Through (To the Other Side)
  159. Julie London - I'm Glad There Is You
  160. 2Pac - California Love
  161. Dean Martin - Everybody Loves Somebody
  162. Snail Mail - Anytime
  163. The Strokes - The Adults Are Talking
  164. Jordana, TV Girl - Better in the Dark
  165. Juice WRLD - Hide (feat. Seezyn)
  166. The Wild Reeds - Get Better
  167. Finom - Mine
  168. Hop Along - One That Suits Me
  169. The Killers - Mr. Brightside
  170. Michael Cera - Clay Pigeons
  171. Clairo - Bags
  172. Prince - Let's Go Crazy
  173. The Zombies - She's Not There
  174. Blackstreet - No Diggity
  175. Frank Sinatra - I've Got You Under My Skin
  176. John Denver - Take Me Home, Country Roads
  177. Harry James - I'm Beginning to See The Light
  178. The Clash - London Calling
  179. Charles Bradley - Changes
  180. Buddy Holly - (Ummmm, Oh Yeah) Dearest
  181. Eagles - Seven Bridges Road [Live]
  182. Moxie - Honey
  183. Faces - Stay with Me
  184. Post Animal - How Do You Feel
  185. New Order - Age of Consent
  186. Natalie Imbruglia - Torn
  187. Lana Del Rey - Doin' Time
  188. Twin Peaks - Blue Coupe
  189. Kanye West - Gold Digger
  190. Fruit Bats - The Bottom of It
  191. Frank Sinatra - Somethin' Stupid
  192. Lorde - Perfect Places
  193. Martha Tilton - Exactly Like You
  194. King Crimson - 21st Century Schizoid Man
  195. Glen Campbell - Southern Nights
  196. Claire Rosinkranz - Frankenstein
  197. Guillemots - Made-Up Lovesong #43
  198. Fleetwood Mac - Say You Love Me
  199. Frankie Valli - Can't Take My Eyes off You
  200. The Crickets - Don't Ever Change
  201. Paul Anka - Put Your Head On My Shoulder
  202. George Harrison - Isn't It a Pity
  203. Trash Panda - Off
  204. Super Besse - Holod
  205. Beyoncé - Hold Up
  206. Charlie Burg - I Don't Wanna Be Okay Without You
  207. Eagles - Peaceful Easy Feeling
  208. Ella Fitzgerald - It's A Lovely Day Today
  209. PERMSKY KRAY - Дорогой Человек
  210. The Little Dippers - Forever
  211. The B-52's - There's a Moon in the Sky (Called the Moon)
  212. Patti Page - Old Cape Cod
  213. Daft Punk - Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger
  214. The Soggy Bottom Boys - I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow
  215. Trash Panda - Things Will Never Change
  216. Hop Along - Well-dressed
  217. Sixpence None The Richer - Kiss Me
  218. TV Girl - Daughter of a Cop
  219. LAUNDRY DAY - Jane
  220. Tyler, The Creator - EARFQUAKE
  221. Sigue Sigue Sputnik - Love Missile F1-11
  222. Joji - Gimme Love
  223. The Backseat Lovers - Pool House
  224. The Weeknd - Take My Breath
  225. Mild High Club - Homage
  226. Doc Watson - Am I Born to Die?
  227. Daniel Caesar - Streetcar
  228. The Kinks - Sunny Afternoon
  229. John Lennon - #9 Dream
  230. Tame Impala - Elephant
  231. Chuck Berry - You Never Can Tell
  232. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
  233. KIDS SEE GHOSTS - 4th Dimension
  234. Soft Cell - Tainted Love
  235. The B-52's - Song for a Future Generation
  236. Gnarls Barkley - Crazy
  237. Lana Del Rey - Blue Jeans
  238. Billie Eilish - Halley's Comet
  239. Glenn Miller - In the Mood
  240. Kid Bloom - Control
  241. The Cinematic Orchestra - To Build A Home
  242. Marvin Gaye - I Heard It Through The Grapevine
  243. Brenda Lee - If You Love Me (Really Love Me)
  244. TV Girl - Lovers Rock
  245. Art Lown - Knew You Well
  246. Dean Martin - Ain't That A Kick In The Head
  247. Miniature Tigers - Like or Like Like
  248. Electric Light Orchestra - Sweet Talkin' Woman
  249. The Hunts - Ages
  250. The Cars - Good Times Roll
  251. Bill Withers - Lovely Day
  252. Drake - God's Plan
  253. Kansas - Point of Know Return
  254. The Neighbourhood - Stargazing
  255. The Clash - Rock the Casbah
  256. Hop Along - What the Writer Meant
  257. Briston Maroney - Under My Skin
  258. Jack Stauber - Buttercup
  259. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Ya Love
  260. Ginger Root - Loretta
  261. Thompson Twins - Hold Me Now
  262. Frank Ocean - Pyramids
  263. Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)
  264. Destroy Boys - I Threw Glass at My Friend's Eyes and Now I'm on Probation
  265. Mild High Club - Dionysian State
  266. Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out
  267. Kevin Abstract - Empty
  268. The Frights - Crust Bucket
  269. Stealers Wheel - Stuck In The Middle With You
  270. The Shins - Fighting in a Sack
  271. fun. - We Are Young (feat. Janelle Monáe)
  272. Lil Uzi Vert - Money Longer
  273. Miniature Tigers - Cannibal Queen
  274. The Doors - Touch Me
  275. Jean Dawson - Clear Bones
  276. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Catching Smoke
  277. Molchat Doma - Люди Надоели
  278. The Go-Go's - Our Lips Are Sealed
  279. Billie Eilish - ocean eyes
  280. BOYO - Crown
  281. The 1975 - Somebody Else
  282. Husbands - She's a Betty
  283. Syd Barrett - If It's In You
  284. Trash Panda - Atlanta Girls
  285. Frank Ocean - Godspeed
  286. Alice Phoebe Lou - Glow
  287. Childish Gambino - Redbone
  288. New Order - Blue Monday
  289. Post Animal - Schedule
  290. Harry Styles - Fine Line
  291. Harry James - I'll Get By (As Long As I Have You)
  292. Depeche Mode - Never Let Me Down Again
  293. Chet Baker - I Fall In Love Too Easily
  294. The Cranberries - Put Me Down
  295. John Mayer - Edge of Desire
  296. George Harrison - All Those Years Ago
  297. Electric Light Orchestra - The Diary of Horace Wimp
  298. Alex Clare - Too Close
  299. Eric B. & Rakim - Know The Ledge
  300. Peter Frampton - Show Me The Way [Live]
  301. Simon & Garfunkel - Mrs. Robinson
  302. Black Eyes - Deformative
  303. The Righteous Brothers - Unchained Melody
  304. Bonny Light Horseman - Deep In Love
  305. The Walker Brothers - The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore
  306. Cage The Elephant - Cigarette Daydreams
  307. Hot Flash Heat Wave - Raindrop
  308. Clairo - Sofia
  309. Kendrick Lamar - PRIDE.
  310. Camille Saint-Saëns - The Swan
  311. Weezer - Say It Ain't So
  312. C418 - Sweden
  313. Lana Del Rey - Let The Light In (feat. Father John Misty)
  314. The Postal Service - Such Great Heights
  315. Pickin' On Series - Those to Come
  316. Lana Del Rey - Grandfather please stand on the shoulders of my father while he's deep-sea fishing (feat. RIOPY)
  317. John Mayer - Moving On and Getting Over
  318. Field Medic - POWERFUL LOVE
  319. Cage The Elephant - Flow
  320. Joji - Run
  321. The Who - Won't Get Fooled Again
  322. Boston - Peace of Mind
  323. Ben E. King - This Magic Moment
  324. David Bowie - Starman
  325. Beastie Boys - Sabotage
  326. Harry Belafonte - Banana Boat (Day-O)
  327. Gene Krupa & His Orchestra - Rhumboogie
  328. The Cardigans - Lovefool
  329. The Kinks - You Really Got Me
  330. The Zombies - She's Coming Home
  331. Michael Jackson - Thriller
  332. Moxie - Blue Skies
  333. The Mamas & The Papas - Straight Shooter
  334. Peter, Paul and Mary - Don't Think Twice, It's All Right
  335. Green Day - Brain Stew
  336. Dua Lipa - Levitating (feat. DaBaby)
  337. The Police - Roxanne
  338. Britney Spears - Toxic
  339. Tears For Fears - Head Over Heels
  340. Rex Orange County - Pluto Projector
  341. The Strokes - Call It Fate, Call It Karma
  342. Portugal. The Man - Feel It Still
  343. The Black Crowes - Twice As Hard
  344. Ted Nugent - Stranglehold
  345. fun. - Some Nights
  346. Wings - Silly Love Songs
  347. Paramore - Still into You
  348. Peter Frampton - Baby, I Love Your Way [Live]
  349. The Monkees - Last Train to Clarksville
  350. Royel Otis - Oysters In My Pocket
  351. The Backseat Lovers - Growing/Dying
  352. Nelly Furtado - Say It Right
  353. Post Animal - Goggles
  354. Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No. 1
  355. Childish Gambino - IV. Sweatpants
  356. Steely Dan - Dirty Work
  357. ABBA - Lay All Your Love On Me
  358. Still Woozy - Goodie Bag
  359. Arlo Parks - Black Dog
  360. Goth Babe - Weekend Friend
  361. George & the Handsomes - Sleepy Beats
  362. boygenius - 20
  363. The Mills Brothers - You Always Hurt The One You Love
  364. Travis Scott - SICKO MODE
  365. Pinegrove - Need 2
  366. The Backseat Lovers - Sinking Ship
  367. Franz Schubert - Ave Maria
  368. Zac Brown Band - Knee Deep (feat. Jimmy Buffett)
  369. Justin Timberlake - Mirrors
  370. Simon & Garfunkel - Cecilia
  371. The Cranberries - Zombie
  372. Daniel Caesar - Japanese Denim
  373. Billie Holiday - Easy Living
  374. ISLAND - By Your Side
  375. Phil Collins - Tomorrow Never Knows
  376. Bob Dylan - The Times They Are A-Changin'
  377. The Four Freshmen - Day By Day
  378. Fleetwood Mac - The Chain
  379. Billy Joel - Big Shot
  380. Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever
  381. Yot Club - down bad
  382. Rihanna - Stay
  383. Fleetwood Mac - Landslide
  384. Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake, Op. 20, Act 2: No. 10, Scene. Moderato
  385. The White Stripes - Fell In Love With a Girl
  386. Alvvays - Easy On Your Own?
  387. Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit - If We Were Vampires
  388. Blackway - What's Up Danger (with Black Caviar)
  389. Albert Hammond - It Never Rains in Southern California
  390. Matt Maltese - Jupiter
  391. John Denver - Mother Nature's Son
  392. Childish Gambino - Sober
  393. Claire Rosinkranz - Pools and Palm Trees
  394. The Cars - Just What I Needed
  395. The Doors - Light My Fire
  396. Blondie - Tomorrow Never Knows
  397. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Hell's Itch
  398. The Japanese House - Saw You In A Dream
  399. Franz Schubert - String Quartet No. 13 in A Minor, Op. 29 No. 1, D. 804
  400. The Drifters - White Christmas
  401. The 1975 - Robbers
  402. George Harrison - Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea
  403. The Frights - Tongues
  404. Paramore - Ain't It Fun
  405. Billy Joel - Pressure
  406. Frank Sinatra - My Way
  407. Art Lown - Going Back to Carolina
  408. Bruno Mars - Just the Way You Are
  409. Under The Rug - Lonesome & Mad
  410. The Mamas & The Papas - Dedicated To The One I Love
  411. Foster The People - Sit Next to Me
  412. Weezer - Undone - The Sweater Song
  413. Michael Jackson - Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'
  414. Tia Blake - Plastic Jesus
  415. Los Bravos - Bring a Little Lovin'
  416. Lady Gaga - Bad Romance
  417. Minnie Riperton - Les Fleurs
  418. Billy Idol - Dancing with Myself
  419. Cody Fry - I Hear a Symphony
  420. Gringo Sapiens - Driver's Licence
  421. Vacations - Relax
  422. Glitter Party - time waits
  423. Steve Lacy - Bad Habit
  424. The Crystals - Then He Kissed Me
  425. The Pied Pipers - Mairzy Doats
  426. Mitski - Bug Like an Angel
  427. James Ray - I've Got My Mind Set On You
  428. Clairo - Bubble Gum
  429. Masayoshi Takanaka - SEXY DANCE
  430. Nat King Cole - (I Love You) For Sentimental Reasons
  431. Sleigh Bells - Crown On the Ground
  432. Olivia Rodrigo - favorite crime
  433. No Doubt - Just A Girl
  434. Foreigner - Long, Long Way from Home
  435. Heart - Crazy On You
  436. The Hunts - Darlin'
  437. David Bowie - Heroes
  438. Alice Phoebe Lou - Hammer
  439. Thee Oh Sees - Toe Cutter - Thumb Buster
  440. Roar - I Can't Handle Change
  441. TV Girl - Birds Dont Sing
  442. Laufey - From The Start
  443. Chas McDevitt Skiffle Group - Freight Train (feat. Nancy Whiskey)
  444. Metro Boomin - Am I Dreaming
  445. Liana Flores - rises the moon
  446. POP ETC - Speak Up
  447. Jean Knight - Mr. Big Stuff
  448. The Platters - Twilight Time
  449. Derek & The Dominos - Layla
  450. King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard - Homeless Man in Adidas
  451. Charlie Burg - Lovesong (The Way)
  452. Hot Flash Heat Wave - Gutter Girl
  453. ABBA - Fernando
  454. Mitski - My Love Mine All Mine
  455. Savannah Conley - More Than Fine
  456. Young the Giant - Mind Over Matter
  457. Future Crib - Yer Movin'
  458. Bob Dylan - Like a Rolling Stone
  459. benches - Violent
  460. Musical Youth - Pass The Dutchie
  461. Olivia Rodrigo - vampire
  462. Ryan Gosling, Emma Stone - City Of Stars
  463. Maya Hawke - Thérèse
  464. Current Joys - A Different Age
  465. Wayne Newton - Danke Schoen
  466. La Roux - Bulletproof
  467. Jason Segel, Walter - Man Or Muppet
  468. U2 - I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
  469. The Raconteurs - Steady, As She Goes
  470. The Ink Spots - Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall
  471. Ace of Base - The Sign
  472. Vulfpeck - 1612
  473. Nordista Freeze - Hey GiGi
  474. The Chainsmokers - New York City
  475. Suki Waterhouse - Johanna
  476. Pete Rodriguez - I Like It Like That
  477. Calvin Harris - Summer
  478. The Rare Occasions - Notion
  479. a-ha - Take on Me
  480. Rush - Working Man
  481. Traffic - Dear Mr. Fantasy
  482. Starbuck - Moonlight Feels Right
  483. Van Halen - Drop Dead Legs
  484. The Troggs - Wild Thing
  485. Led Zeppelin - Good Times Bad Times
  486. The Byrds - Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season)
  487. Cream - Sunshine Of Your Love
  488. Justin Timberlake - SexyBack (feat. Timbaland)
  489. David Bowie - Suffragette City
  490. Ludwig van Beethoven - Sonata No. 14 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 "Moonlight"
  491. Avicii - Wake Me Up
  492. The Who - La-La-La-Lies
  493. The Spinners - The Rubberband Man
  494. MGMT - Time to Pretend
  495. Hootie & The Blowfish - Only Wanna Be With You
  496. Sheck Wes - Mo Bamba
  497. Claire Rosinkranz - 123
  498. Ringo Starr - Photograph
  499. The Proclaimers - I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)
  500. Duran Duran - Rio
submitted by delibirdguy to Music [link] [comments]


2024.05.14 14:01 Zappingsbrew A post talking about 400 words

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submitted by Zappingsbrew to u/Zappingsbrew [link] [comments]


2024.05.13 01:13 latebutstillearly1 Boarding School

My parents were strict growing up. In particular, my sister and I had a tightly enforced curfew - no going out after 6PM. As a homebody who preferred to read in my room, I didn't mind much.
My older sister Jasmine hated it. She misbehaved frequently, stayed out late and made friends our parents didn't approve of. Dad would lock her in the house when she came back from school, and she would throw ear splitting tantrums that gave everyone headaches. The more they tried to control her, the more she rebelled, until she became an absolute menace. We fought a lot too - she spat in my food at the dinner table, and I pulled her hair in return. My parents would scream at her to stop and stand in the corner for an hour as punishment. They threatened that if her behavior continued, they would send her away to a boarding school for difficult children, where the punishments wouldn't be as kind.
The final straw came when I was ten and Jasmine was fourteen. Mom found a pack of cigarettes in Jasmine's room. She came to us at the dinner table.
"Jasmine," she said calmly, holding up the pack. "What is this?"
I saw the color drain from Jasmine's face. She'd gotten them from an older boy at school. Her expression cycled through fear, dread, denial then rage in a few seconds. A violent argument broke out.
"Fuck you!" She screamed, "They're mine and you bet I'm gonna smoke them! You can't fucking tell me what to do!"
My parents decided it was time to play their final card. It was boarding school, or getting disowned and put up for adoption. They had enough, and as she was becoming older, taller and more violent, they were starting to become concerned for the family's safety. She had little choice, and a month later, dad took her on a flight to the boarding school. I don't remember many details about it from listening to their conversations. I just picked up the fact that it was in a hilly area in a far away state, and they took discipline seriously there. No technology, makeup or drugs were allowed, there was a strict daily schedule beginning at 5AM and ending at 9AM sharp, and those who broke the rules were served their just desserts.
"See ya in fifty years," I taunted, "enjoy being a nun."
She stuck her tongue out at me and flipped me the middle finger. She disappeared, and the front door slammed shut.
The home was much quieter thereafter. I liked it at first. No more fighting over stuff and screaming around the house. But over time, it got lonely, especially on the evenings and weekends. I now felt like an only child.
Despite our differences, Jas and I did have a few good laughs over dumb Youtube videos on the odd occasion. Three months had passed since she had left, but the entire time I never heard my parents call Jas or the school for updates. I asked about Jas a couple times after a few months.
"Is she coming back?" I asked.
"Of course, dear. She's there for a year, so she'll be back when the school year ends," she replied.
The year droned on, and half a year passed in a blink. I started taking violin lessons, and my parents even extended the curfew to let me attend late night school events. It helped me make some more friends, and the extension allowed me to stay at their houses, as long as my parents approved of them. Being accustomed to restrictions for my whole life, those allowances were a breath of fresh air. Still, I was alone in my room most of the time, and the house felt empty.
I came home from school one day and both my parents were still at work. As I went to my room and set my things down, I heard the home phone ringing from downstairs.
Taking off my coat as I walked down the stairs, I went to answer it.
"Hello?"
"HELP ME! HELP!" A shrill voice shrieked from the other end. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up instantly as soon as I heard it, and my heart rate began to accelerate. I held the phone a little further from my ear.
"Jas?" I asked.
"Harry," she sobbed, a terrified urgency in her voice, "I need help, please. Where's mom and dad?"
"They're at work," I replied.
"Harry, I'm sorry." Her voice became quieter. "I'm sorry I spat in your vegetables. I'm sorry I called you a dumbass. Tell mom and dad I'm sorry I gave them hell. They didn't deserve all of that. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you guys, I swear."
"I know, Jas," I said, concerned, "but what's going on?"
"Oh my God, they're coming," she whimpered, "they're gonna get me, I can't run anymore. Fuck…"
I heard a loud smash and commotion on the other side, and screaming erupted from the other end of the line. Ear piercing screams that could've shattered glass. They became more intense but quieter, as if she was being dragged away from the receiver.
"No, NO! PLEASE DON'T! HELP!"
The line hung up.
Shaking, I called mom and dad immediately. When they came home, I explained what happened and thought Jas was in serious danger. Mom hurriedly called the school, and the woman on the other end explained that Jas had a tantrum earlier, but was otherwise fine and didn't want to speak to her. She took that as sufficient, and hung up. I pressed her a little, but that pissed her off.
"It's just one of her tantrums, and she's being dealt with. She's getting the help she needs. I don't want to hear you mention it again, Harry."
I never recalled Jas apologizing during a tantrum. Before then, she had never apologized once in her life. It was very out of character. I knew something wasn't right, but I couldn't do anything about it. I tried calling the unknown number back from the home phone a couple of times when my parents weren't at home, but to no avail. Three months passed. Some nights I would wake up drenched in sweat, screams ringing in my ears.
The end of the school year came, and I thought it was time for Jasmine to return home. I asked dad about her.
"They've said she's making really good progress, so she's going to stay for a few more years," he beamed.
"How do you know she's even alive?" I asked.
"What kind of question is that?" He laughed. "She spoke to us herself, sounded like she'd grown up a lot over the past year."
She didn't come back home.
Over time, I grew accustomed to being alone. Mom and dad never talked about Jas again. They acted as if she never existed, and for some reason, I never dared to ask. Perhaps I would've forgotten I ever had a sister, if it weren't for the periodic nightmares of that phone call which returned to haunt me every few weeks. When I turned eighteen, I moved out and went to college. As soon as I left home, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, revisiting almost every night.
Back when I was ten, after mom had called the boarding school following the horrific phone call, she left her phone on the kitchen table and I saw the number. I didn't note it down, but it was one of those that was easy to remember. I specifically remember thinking it was odd that a number had such a long string of fives.
One night in my dorm, I tried to recall the number, typing several possible combinations into my phone keypad and tapping the call button. After a few invalid attempts, I was surprised to finally get through to someone.
"Hello, this is the boarding school reception," A voice came from the other end. Bingo.
"Hi there, I'd like to ask about a student who once attended your school, her name is Jasmine Collins."
There was a pause.
"What is your relation to this student?"
"I'm her brother. She attended the school about eight or nine years ago, and I haven't seen her since. Just wanted to know if you knew where she graduated to."
"I'll search the records."
"Thank you," I said. After a few minutes, she piped up again.
"Apologies, there are no records matching this name."
"Are you sure?" I frowned, "It's J-a-s-m-i-n-e C-o-l-l-i-n-s." I spelt it out.
"Nope, nothing in our system."
Silence. I grew frustrated.
"Listen," I growled quietly, "I know something happened to my sister while she was at your school. If you don't tell me exactly where she is right now, I'm going to involve the police."
"Sir, we do not appreciate unfounded accusations or threats. if you like, I can do a second search, but if nothing comes up there isn't much I can help with," she said.
"J-a-s-m-i-n-e C-o-l-l-i-n-s," I repeated, "do it."
Two minutes passed.
"My sincerest apologies," said the woman on the other end, "I indeed misspelt the name. Miss Collins was a student here until she turned eighteen. She was discharged thereafter. Would you like the address?"
A wave of relief ran through me, and my racing pulse began to ease.
"Yes please, thank you."
She gave me an address in Pennsylvania. The following Friday evening, I took a flight over and made my way to the location. It was a wide two-storey building in the middle of a well kept garden. Colorful, well trimmed rose bushes and plots of tulips lined the perimeter. There was a small fountain on the path that led up to the main entrance of the building. I expected it to be a house or block of apartments, and double-checked that the address was correct, which it was.
I walked into a reception area. Glass panels surrounded by wooden frames made up one of the walls, with a door leading to a corridor. A blonde lady was sitting at a desk, and some elderly people were talking in the corridor. There was a colorful poster on the wall.
'Celebrating our care home's 40th anniversary. Come join us for cake!'
Care home? I thought to myself, confused.
"Hi there," said the woman at the desk, in a cheery tone.
"Hello, I'm looking for my sister, someone told me she would be here."
"Name?" She asked.
"Jasmine Collins?"
She typed it, and clicked.
"Take a seat, I won't be two seconds."
She descended down the corridor, and returned a few moments later, pushing a wheelchair with someone on it. My eyes widened as she came closer.
The woman in the wheelchair had big bulging eyes, with pupils that pointed away from each other absently, and a crooked neck slanting uncomfortably to the right. Her arms and legs rested limp, feet bent in an uncomfortable position. Her thin, brittle brown hair hung from her scalp, which housed specks of dandruff. Her limbs were stick thin, but her midsection bulged slightly. She sat almost motionless as she was pushed towards me, apart from her chest, which rose as she gasped in breaths of air. A drip of saliva ran down from the side of her open mouth. She wore a pink shirt that said 'Mondays' and a blue flowery dress. There was a cannula and dressing on her left arm, and a yellow feeding tube came out of her right nostril, taped to the side of her face.
The blonde lady brought her in front of me, then flipped the brake on the wheelchair. She crouched down next to it, and stroked the woman's sparse strands of hair.
"Say hello, Jasmine," she said softly.
The woman in the wheelchair let out a long groan. I stared in disbelief, horrified.
"What happened to her?" I choked.
"She was admitted to us a few years ago, before I started working here," explained the blonde lady. "I heard she contracted bacterial meningitis at another residence, and got brain damage as a result."
"No," I said, shaking my head, my voice trembling.
"This isn't right," I continued, "something very bad has happened to her. How did she get here? Can you check the records?"
"Well, before I started working here, this place had paper records. Some of them got lost, hers was one of them, but what the staff at the time could remember was transcribed onto the new electronic system."
She reached over the desk and flipped the computer monitor around.
"Her notes here just say she was admitted at age eighteen having suffered brain damage after contracting meningitis as a teenager, and presented as quadriplegic with greatly reduced cognition and speech. She had a medical exam on admission, which confirmed this. No suspicious circumstances were reported."
"Where was she brought here from?" I asked in a panic, trying to read the text on the screen. "And by who?" The lady looked at the screen and scrolled down.
"Doesn't say," she said.
"Is that all you can find? Everything?"
She nodded. I stared for what seemed like hours, and finally broke out of my trance.
"Thank you," I croaked, rattled.
I took the handles of the wheelchair and unlocked the brake, wheeling it and the woman outside into the garden area, down the path leading to the front doors and past the fountain. I eventually stopped beside a far away bench. I sat down, still light headed.
It was a bright, sunny day. Children walked hand in hand with their elderly and disabled relatives along the green grass, admiring the roses. Some families were having picnics in the distance. A cool breeze swept by, the sound of water flowing like white noise in the background.
I looked in the woman's eyes, trying to find my sister locked inside. Her gaze shifted to meet mine. I could see in her eyes that she desperately wanted to tell me something.
"What did they do to you?" I whispered. She just stared at me, unblinking. A single tear ran down her left cheek.
When I returned to my dorm, I was angry. I wanted answers, and picked up the phone to dial mom and dad's house and ask them what they had done. Perhaps I should even call the police first, I thought, pacing up and down my room for hours, thinking about who to call and what I would say. Then I sat down on my bed, as a realization came over me.
Mom and dad had been good to me. Mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer just before I left for college, and seemed to be fighting a losing battle. Dad had lost my grandparents on his side, and was also slowly losing his eyesight. Their marriage wasn't doing too well, but they had somehow stuck it through for the family. Did I really want to do this to them now? I thought back to when I had asked dad if Jas was coming home.
"She spoke to us herself…"
I pondered what I should do next for days upon days, and I came to the conclusion of… nothing.
Call me a bad person, call me a coward, call me selfish. Believe me, I badly wanted answers to what the hell happened in that boarding school.
I just didn't want to lose anyone else.
I went to PA to visit Jas every college break, pushing her in her wheelchair down the pathways in the park surrounding the care home. Eventually, I graduated and my fiancée and got our own place. After we had settled in somewhat, we brought Jas back from the care home to live with us. I knew it we were taking on a big commitment, especially as we were planning to have a family in the near future, but somehow I felt like I owed it. My fiancée Marielle is an absolute star. She was an accountant who mostly worked from home and was happy to accommodate, which is more than most would do for a partner. Marielle even helped prepare Jas' nutrition at home, which we fed her through the NG tube, and other aspects of her care.
I came home from work one day.
"Welcome back babe," chirped Marielle. I kissed her and hung my coat up behind the door.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"Decent, same old. Did some work in the morning," she replied, "in the afternoon, I took Jas out on a walk along the river. I think… she tried to say something."
"Jas tried to speak?" I asked, intrigued.
"I think so. I listened closely, and she kept repeating something. It sounded like…" Marielle did an impression.
"Harry? Was she trying to say my name?"
She pondered for a second.
"No, I think it sounded more like, 'sorry'."
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2024.05.12 03:33 mark54398 Van electrical - splitting rocker panel DC outlet

I'm at the "know enough to be dangerous" stage of van electrical knowledge and want to ask a question before I try something.
My van has an Inergy Powerstation 1500 battery stack, similar to this one. One of the DC ports on the power station connects to a LP detector and the other connects to a rocker switch fuse panel similar to this one, which has four 15 amp fuses.
The rocker panel only has one DC plug port (not sure the proper name for this), that looks like the DC port a car would have for plugging in phone charger.
I want to split that port into 3 DC plug ports so that I can have my Laveo Dry flush toilet and my 12V fan (similar to this one) plugged in at the same time and have an extra port for miscellaneous items I might hookup like my 12V electric kettle.
I found this splitter on Amazon which has a 15amp fuse.
Questions -
1) My theory is that since each of the devices mentioned above (toilet, fan, electric kettle) have worked fine individually for years (swapping the device plugged into the one port on the rocker switch panel) that if I plug all three devices into the splitter, then each device should work fine individually because both the rocker panel and the splitter have a 15amp fuse.
Does that logic hold up? I'm on a trip right now and I'd like to buy this thing without trying to figure out the collective load of multiple devices operating at the same time. It's easy for me to just use one at a time for now (or forever, really), but not having to swap plugs is would be really nice.
2) My other theory is that if I accidentally used more than one device at a time through the splitter, and that was too much load for the port on the rocker switch panel to handle (15 amp fuse), then the 15amp fuse on the splitter would blow first, protecting the fuse on the rocker panel.
Does that logic hold up?
This is a piece of mind thing because, being on a trip, blowing the fuse on the rocker panel would be a big PITA whereas blowing the fuse on the splitter could be solved by setting the splitter aside and just going back to using the single port until I'm back from my trip.
Thanks much for any insights anyone can share!
submitted by mark54398 to CamperVans [link] [comments]


2024.05.10 20:04 Vukobasa An observer in the Near East: MONTENEGRO (1907)

An observer in the Near East: MONTENEGRO (1907)
ΜΟΝΤΕΝEGRO
CHAPTER I
THE CITY IN THE SKY
Why I went to the Balkans―The road to Montenegro―Cettinje and its petroleum tins―About the blood-feud―England and Montenegro―Warned not to attempt to go to Albania―My guide a marked man-The story of Tef―A woman's fickleness, and its sequel.
CHAPTER II
AN AUDIENCE OF PRINCE NICHOLAS
The Palace at Cettinje―A cigarette with the Prince―The policy of Montenegro―A confidential chat―His Royal Highness's admiration for England―His views upon Macedonia―He urges me not to attempt to go to Albania. but I persuade him to help me―His Highness's kindness―Souvenirs.
**
CHAPTER I
THE CITY IN THE SKY
Why I went to the Balkans— The road to Montenegro — Cettinje and its petroleum tins — About the blood-feud — England and Montenegro — Warned not to attempt to go to Albania — My guide a marked man — The story of Tef — A woman's fickleness, and its sequel.
I ENTERED the Balkans by the back door. The luxuries of the Orient Express had no attraction for me. I wanted to see the Balkans as they really are, those great, wild, mountainous countries, so full of race hatreds, of political bickerings, of fierce blood-feuds, of feverish propa- gandas those nations with their interesting monarchs and their many mysteries.
The "Orient" runs direct from Paris to the Balkan capitals, it is true, but if one goes to study a people the capital is not the only place in which to discover the truth. One must go into the country, move among the peasantry, hear their grievances and investigate their wrongs. Therefore I decided to enter the East by Montenegro, and also visit the wild and little-known regions of Northern Albania.
The comfortable voyage by the Austrian-Lloyd mail steamer Graf Wurmbrand from Trieste down the Adriatic, touching at Pola, the Austrian naval station, Lussinpiccolo, Zara- famed for its maraschino-Sebenico, Spalato, and Gravosa to Cattaro, has been already described by many writers. Suffice it to say that it is perhaps one of the most picturesque of pleasure-trips in the world, for every moment one has a fresh panorama of mountain and blue sea, of green, fertile islands with subtropical vegetation, and tiny white villages nestling at the sea's edge, as the steamer threads her way through the narrow and often difficult channels.
At times the wild scenery, especially in the Bocche di Cattaro, reminds the traveller of the Norwegian fiords, and at others the coast is an almost exact reproduction of the French Riviera.
The object of my journey was, however, not in order to write a mere description of men and places. There have been other travellers in the Balkans who have related their story, therefore my mission was to make careful inquiry into the present unsettled state of affairs, try and discover the grievances of both sides, and endeavour to obtain from the rulers and statesmen of the various nations their aspirations for the future. This I succeeded in doing, for the various monarchs of the Balkans graciously gave me audience; and from their Ministers, from the middle classes, and from the peasants, I was enabled at last to form some conclusion as to the real situation-political, economical, social, and financial.
The writer who attempts to place the various Balkan questions impartially and clearly before the public will at once find himself utterly confused, and wallowing wildly in a morass of misstatement and misrepresentation. The Balkans are torn by race hatreds, party strife, and the intrigues of the Powers. The Turk hates the Bulgar, the Serb hates the Austrian, the Roumanian hates the Greek, the Albanian hates the Montenegrin, the Bosnian hates the Turk, while the Macedonian hates everybody all round. What is told to one authoritatively one hour, is flatly contradicted the next; therefore it is not in the least surprising that in the European Press there have been so many misstatements about the various Balkan questions, the real truth being so very difficult to obtain.
I have, however, endeavoured to obtain it, and at risk of being injudicious, to place before the reader the facts as they are, without any political bias, or any seeking to gloss over the many glaring defects of administration of which I have myself been witness.
To describe the beauties of the Bocche di Cattaro, that series of winding channels where the high grey mountains rise sheer from the water, would be only to traverse old ground. Suffice it to say that I landed at Cattaro on a bright, sunny noon, and found upon the quay a tall, lean mountaineer who had been sent to meet me.
To the traveller fresh from the West the Montenegrin costume of both women and men is very attractive, but a few days in the Balkans soon accustoms the eye to a perfect phantasmagoria of colour and of costume. Pero was my driver's name, and I noticed that around his waist was a revolver belt, but minus the weapon. I inquired where it was, and with a grin he informed me that Cattaro, being in Dalmatia, the Austrians would not allow Montenegrins to bring arms into their country; so they were compelled to leave them on the other side of the frontier, ten kilometres distant.
My bags packed upon the three-horse travelling carriage and secured with many strings, and Pero equipped with a plentiful stock of cigarettes, he mounted upon the box, whipped up his long-tailed ponies, and we started on our eight-hour ascent of that great wall of mountain that hides Montenegro from the sea.
As we ascended through the little village of Skaljari we entered upon a magnificent road, said to be one of the greatest engineering feats of modern times, and steadily ascended, until at the striped black-and-yellow Austrian boundary post we crossed the frontier, and were in the "Land of the Black Mountain"-Montenegro. Across the road, at an acute angle, a row of paving-stones marks the frontier, and soon after- wards we found ourselves in the wildest and most desolate mountain region. At a lonely roadside hut Pero obtained his big, serviceable-looking revolver, and I, of course, wore mine in my belt; for in Montenegro or Albania arms make the man. A man unarmed is looked upon as an effeminate coward. Indeed, by order of Prince Nicholas every Monte- negrin must wear the national dress, both men and women, and every man must carry his revolver when out of doors.
Four hours from Cattaro we were in a lonely mountain fastness, a wild, desolate, treeless region of huge limestone rocks of peculiar volcanic formation, which gave them the appearance of a boiling sea. The views over the Adriatic as we turned back were so superb that, despite photographing being strictly forbidden on account of the fortresses in the vicinity, I could not resist the temptation to take one or two surreptitiously. On, through a bleak, uninhabited country, we at last reached the guard-house of Kerstac, and then half an hour later found ourselves upon a plateau where, in the centre, stood the small clean village of Nyegush, the ancestral home of the reigning family, and the scene of most of the Montenegrin wars of independence. Here we halted for half an hour at the post-house, and before we left, the big, lumbering post-diligence, with its armed guard, came up behind us.
Before we moved off again it had grown dark, the moon shone, and for four hours longer we alternately climbed and descended through that wild region of silence and desolation, until at last we saw, deep below, the lights of Cettinje, the little capital, and an hour later brought us to the unpre- tending "Grand" Hotel.
Hardly had I entered my room when there came a loud knock at my door, and a tall, scarlet-coated Montenegrin warrior, armed to the teeth, entered and saluted. For a moment I looked up at him aghast, but the mystery was solved when, next second, he handed me with great ceremony a telegram from a dear friend in England wishing me God- speed. I had taken him to be, at least, one of the Prince's bodyguard, and he was only a plain telegraph messenger!
This was but one of many surprises in store for me in Montenegro. Next morning I went out to look round the clean little capital, when, on passing the Prince's palace, I saw a number of soldiers drawn up, and as I went by, the band suddenly struck up the British National Anthem! I raised my hat, halted, and stood puzzled. Surely they were not honouring me! Another moment, however, and I recognised the reason. In a carriage, accompanied by the Grand Marechal of the Court, there drove up my friend Mr. Charles des Graz, the newly-appointed British Chargé d'Affaires to Montenegro, who was about to present his creden- tials to His Royal Highness the Prince.
Montenegro is perhaps the most interesting country in all the Balkans. Cettinje, a small, clean town of broad streets and one-storeyed, whitewashed houses, is a little city in the sky, lying as it does in a cup-shaped depression at the summit of a high, bare mountain. Its long, straight, main street reminds one very much of a small country town in England, if it were not that everyone is, by law, compelled to wear the national dress, and every man has in his belt his big, long- barrelled revolver, without which he must never go out of doors.
The men, sturdy mountaineers, are of fine physique- handsome fellows, all of them. Their dress consists of dark blue baggy trousers, white woollen gaiters, raw-hide shoes, a scarlet jacket heavily braided with gold, and a small round cap, with black silk around the edge and the crown of the same colour as the jacket, bearing the Prince's initials in Servian letters, "H.I." The women, who are particularly good-looking, wear dark skirts, beautifully hand-embroidered blouses, and a kind of long coat, with open sleeves of soft, dove-grey cloth. Forbidden to wear European hats, they are compelled to adopt an exactly similar cap to the men, except that the crown is embroidered instead of bearing the royal initials.
Nowhere have I seen such glorification of the male as in Montenegro. To the men, born fighters as they are, work is undignified; therefore the women toil while the opposite sex look on. I saw women employed in building operations and performing work which, in other countries, is left to day- labourers.
Cettinje is quaint in the extreme. The only houses of foreigners are the various Legations, and the only foreigners are diplomats with their wives and families. The first thing that strikes the stranger is the number of petroleum tins. Opposite the hotel I saw a great ring of empty tins, numbering some hundreds, ranged around a fountain. A few women were squatting gossiping, and an armed policeman lounged against the water-source. On inquiry, I found that there was a water famine, and the tins had been placed there at dawn to await the moment when the authorities thought fit to allow the people to get their daily supply. The women had gone away to work, and would return later. The Monte- negrins a short time ago constructed a reservoir, but there was a crack in it, so the water ran away. Hence the famine.
The petroleum tin is never out of sight for a single moment in Cettinje. At any hour, and in any street, you see women and children carrying them. They are used for everything, from milk-pails to flower-pots.
In Cettinje one comes for the first time up against the dark-faced, scowling Albanian in his tightly fitting trousers of white wool striped with black, his dirty white fez, and the swagger of superiority in his gait. He is well armed, and for a good reason. The Montenegrin hates the Albanian, because of the constant border feuds over at Podgoritza, where blood is constantly spilt, and where I have seen a Montenegrin in the market squatting over a basket of apples with a loaded rifle.
That morning I was chatting to a man in Montenegrin dress, of whom I had bought some excellent cigarettes, manufactured by the Montenegro Tobacco Monopoly-an Italian syndicate, by the way and happened to mention that I was on my way to Albania. "Ah, gospodin!" he exclaimed, holding up both his hands, and glancing at the revolver in my belt. "Take my advice.
Don't go into Albania or Macedonia. You are not safe there from one moment to the other. For half a word they'll shoot you dead as easily as they drink a glass of wine. No man's life is worth a moment's purchase there. I'm Albanian myself from Kroja-and I know."
This was scarcely reassuring. I looked about me on every hand as I strolled through Cettinje. All was so quiet, so orderly, so very peaceful there, even though the big, burly mountaineers in the gold-laced jackets eyed me with askance as I passed. Not without some trepidation I took a number of photographs, for I had heard that, like the Turk, the Monte- negrin was averse to having his counterfeit presentment put upon paper. Nevertheless, the first feeling of insecurity having passed, I very soon found myself quite at home in Cettinje, and in the midst of very good and kind friends.
A good many foreigners come up from Cattaro to pry about Cettinje for a day or two, buy picture-postcards and antique arms, sneer at the honest Montenegrin, and return into Dalmatia. Towards such, the Montenegrin is not par- ticularly polite. But those who go to Cettinje to seriously and thoroughly study the people and their future will find a great deal of genuine and charming hospitality.
My first day in Cettinje was lonely. Afterwards, until I left, I was always with friends and officials, who took the greatest trouble to answer my questions and explain matters.
Montenegro is entirely unlike any other country in the world. Its air of antiquity is particularly pleasing, while on every hand the beneficent rule of Prince Nicholas is apparent. Every man in Montenegro swears by his Prince, whom he almost worships. They call him their "father," and if His Royal Highness raised the standard of war to- morrow, every man would rise and fight to the death. The Prince is accessible to all his people-more so to them, indeed, than to the diplomats. Sometimes, early in the morning, he will sit in an arm-chair on the steps leading to the entrance of his palace, and there hear the complaints or petitions of his people. In this patriarchal way he often ministers justice. Last year he granted Montenegro a Constitution, and there is now a Skupshtina similar to that of Servia; but the people have not yet quite understood that in future they must go to the Ministers, and not to their Prince. They will see him, and nobody else.
In no country is loyalty and patriotism so strong as in Montenegro. The army is well trained, and the whole country being one huge natural fortress, a foreign enemy would experience enormous difficulty in gaining entrance. In Cettinje, even a constant traveller like myself meets with continual surprises. One day, while walking at the rear of the Bigliardo, or old palace-so called because when built the first billiard table was introduced-I heard the sound of clanking chains behind me. At first I took no notice, but as it continued with regular rhythm I glanced behind, when, to my amaze- ment, I saw a convict in leg-fetters with difficulty taking his afternoon stroll beneath the trees! There were several others on the grass plot before the prison, idling in the shadow or gossiping with their friends, who had come to keep them company!
Inquiriesshowed that most of these prisoners were murderers, not for robbery but for vendetta. In Montenegro the blood- feud is constant, and life is held very cheap. It invariably commences by jealousy, and is of everyday occurrence. Two lovers quarrel, and one is shot. Then the blood-feud commences, and unlike in Italy or other Southern countries, the vendetta is not only upon the murderer, but upon his next-of-kin. Therefore, if the assassin escapes into Servia, Bosnia, or Turkey, as he so often does, the brother of the dead man takes up the feud and kills the assassin's brother without parley when next he meets him. I myself saw a man shot dead one night in Ryeka, at the head of the Lake of Scutari, and the murderer walked coolly away undeterred. It was the blood-feud, and no one took much notice.
"S'bogom!" (God be with you!) It is the expression you hear on every hand in the Balkans. In the streets the peasants touch their round caps in salute and exclaim, "S'bogom!" When you leave for a journey and when you return, when you rise and when you go to rest; even if you go for a short walk-it is the same. Life is so uncertain in those wild regions that the protection of the Almighty is invoked upon you always, and your revolver is ever ready in your belt.
In Cettinje I had a faithful guide and servant, a black-eyed, somewhat sinister-looking Albanian, named Palok. He travelled with me through Montenegro and Albania, and was most faithful and devoted. Besides Albanian and Serb he spoke a little Italian, and possessed a keen sense of humour.
One day, while we were travelling through the wild, bare mountain, a perfect wilderness of huge boulders without a single tree or even blade of grass, we halted for our midday meal, and while eating he told me of a great friend of his who had recently been killed at Spuz for vendetta, and he added, fondling the butt of his revolver, "I too, gospodin, shall die before long."
I looked at him in surprise. His usually humorous face had changed. It was dark and thoughtful, and his black eyes were fixed upon me.
"Is there a blood-feud upon you, then?" I asked, in surprise.
"Yes," he replied briefly; and though I endeavoured to persuade him to tell the story, it was not until the following day that with some reluctance he explained.
"A year ago my brother Tef, away in Scutari, fell in love with a beautiful girl. He had a rival-a young Albanian, a coppersmith in the bazaar. They quarrelled, but the girl-ah! she was very beautiful-preferred Tef. Where- upon the rival one night took his rifle and laid in wait for my brother in the main street of Scutari. Early in the evening he left the house of the girl's father, and as he passed the fellow shot poor Tef dead."
And he paused as his brow knit deeply, and his teeth were set tightly.
"Well?" I asked.
"Well, gospodin. What would you have done had your own brother died a dog's death? I took a rifle, and within a week the murderer was in his grave. I shot him through the heart and then I left Scutari."
"And you are safe here, in Montenegro ?"
"Safe! Oh dear, no," he answered. "One day-it may be to-day-the fellow's brother will kill me. He must kill me. It is Fate-why worry about it? It does one no good."
And the marked man, the man doomed to die at a moment when he least expects it, rolled a cigarette and lit it with perfect resignment.
"And are you not afraid to go with me back to Scutari?" I asked, amazed at his fearlessness.
"Afraid, gospodin!" he exclaimed, looking at me in reproach as his hand instinctively wandered to his weapon. "Afraid! No Albanian is afraid of the blood-feud. I have killed the murderer, and his brother must kill me. It is our law." And the doomed man smiled gravely.
"And the girl?" I asked.
"Ah! They are all the same," he answered, with a quick shrug of the shoulders. "A month ago she married a tobacco- seller a man old enough to be her father. Poor Tef! If he could but know!"
"And the blood-feud still continues?"
"Of course-until I am dead."
Then Palok smoked on in silence, entirely resigned to the fate that awaits him. He knows that one day, as he walks along the road, the sharp crack of a hidden rifle will sound, and he will fall to earth, another victim of a woman's fickleness.
S'bogom! God be with you!
CHAPTER II
AN AUDIENCE OF PRINCE NICHOLAS
The Palace at Cettinje-A cigarette with the Prince-The policy of Monte- negro-A confidential chat-His Royal Highness's admiration for England-His views upon Macedonia-He urges me not to attempt to go to Albania, but I persuade him to help me-His Highness's kindness -Souvenirs.
HIS Royal Highness the Prince will be pleased to grant you private audience at four o'clock this after- noon, gospodin."
The tall, burly aide-de-camp in the little round cap, high boots, pale blue overcoat, and pistols in his belt, saluted, and we shook hands.
It was then three o'clock, and I was just about to go out to visit Madame Constantinovitch, the mother of Princess Mirko. So I had to return at once to my room and dress for the audience. The kings and princes of the Balkans have a habit of summoning one at a moment's notice, and paying visits at unearthly hours.
Here, in Cettinje, in the heart of these wild, desolate fast- nesses, one seems so far removed from European influence, yet how great a part has this rocky, impregnable country, with its fierce soldier-inhabitants, played in the politics of Eastern Europe, and how great a part it is still destined to play in the near future!
The fact that everybody is armed gives the stranger an uncanny feeling. The man who brings one's coffee wears a perfect arsenal of weapons in his sash, and one quickly acquires the habit of carrying a revolver one's self. Indeed, if you are wise, you will carry a good serviceable weapon from the moment you enter the Balkans to the moment you quit them. But if you approach the Albanian frontier, you will be at once warned not to fire without just cause. A few shots is sufficient to alarm the whole neighbourhood for many miles, and on hearing the alarm every man seizes his rifle and flies to the rendezvous, fully equipped and eager for the fight with those Albanian border tribes, of whom I afterwards had the good fortune to be the guest.
I had already had a long chat with Prince Danilo, the Crown Prince of Montenegro, whom I found a very smart and highly educated man, fully alive to the political difficulties of the neighbouring states and the necessity of Montenegro preserving her independence. He held very strong views upon the terrible state of affairs in Macedonia, and gave me many interesting details about his own country.
Having met him, and also his younger brother, Prince Mirko, I was particularly anxious to make the acquaintance of their father, Prince Nicholas, the ruler of the sturdy, warlike dwellers of the "Land of the Black Mountain "-the principal and most striking figure in this remarkable country, where peace and war walk ever hand-in-hand.
Since 1860, when his uncle, Prince Danilo, was assassinated, he has ruled justly, if somewhat sternly, and has succeeded in raising his nation from a state of semi-civilisation to the high place it now occupies in the Eastern world. In 1888 he gave the country a Civil and Criminal Code, and last year he granted a Constitution. Indeed, he has done all in his power to induce his warriors to follow the arts of peace without forgetting those of war.
At the hour appointed, the royal aide-de-camp called in a carriage and drove me to the Palace, a long, dark brown building of somewhat plain exterior, as befits the home of a fighting race, where I was received in the great hall by half a dozen bowing servants in scarlet and gold. Here I was met by the chamberlain, who conducted me up the grand staircase and into the great audience-chamber, with its many fine paintings and highly polished floor. Then, after a moment, the Prince-a brilliant figure-entered, shook me by the hand, and welcomed me to Montenegro.
These formalities ended, His Royal Highness said in Italian, "Come, let us go into yonder room. We shall be able to talk there more comfortably." And he led me into a smaller chamber, where he gave me a seat at the table where he sat.
The afternoon was gloomy, and dusk was creeping on, therefore upon the table a great antique silver candelabra had been set, and by its light I was enabled to obtain a good view of the ruler of Crnagora, the "Land of the Black Mountain."
Of magnificent physique, tall, muscular, with hair slightly grey, he bore his sixty-five years lightly. Attired in the splendid national costume of scarlet, blue, and gold, with high boots, he wore a single decoration at his throat, the Cross of Danilo, of which Order he is Master. Upon his hand- some, well-cut features the candles shed a soft light, causing the gold upon his dress to glitter, and I noticed, as I asked him questions, how his dark, keen eyes shot quick, inquiring glances of alertness.
After the first few minutes of regal formality His Highness's manner entirely changed. Putting ceremony aside, he pro- duced his cigarette case of crocodile skin, with the royal crown and cipher in gold in the corner-offered me a Montenegrin cigarette, took one himself, lit mine with his own hand, and then we fell to chatting.
In the delightful hour and a half we smoked together I asked the prince-poet many questions, and learnt many things. He explained several difficult points in Balkan politics, which to me, an Englishman, had always been puzzling. We spoke in Italian of Macedonia and of a certain well-known foreign diplomat in London who was our mutual friend, the Prince giving me a very kind message to deliver to him.
Presently I referred to the splendid result of his rule, and related to him a little incident which had occurred to me in Nyegush a few days before, as showing how deeply he was beloved by his nation. A smile crossed his fine open countenance as he replied simply, "I have done my best for my people-my very best; and I shall do so as long as God gives me life. I am happy to believe that my people appreciate my efforts."
"And now, Monseigneur," I asked, "will you tell me what is the present position of Montenegro?"
"The present position is peace," was his prompt answer. "I have granted a Constitution, and the first meeting of the new Skupshtina has been held successfully. Though the Albanian question is always with us, I am thankful to say we are on the most excellent terms with Turkey, while towards Russia we are pursuing our traditional policy. For the Emperor Francis Josef of Austria I have nothing but the most profound admiration, and I owe very much to him."
"And towards England, Monseigneur ?"
"England has been, as you know, Montenegro's very best friend," replied the Prince. "I, personally, have the greatest respect and admiration for your great country. We Montenegrins always remember that it was Mr. Gladstone who gave us the strip of seaboard on the Adriatic with Dulcigno. He was our greatest friend, and his memory is respected by admirer by every man in Montenegro. Of Tennyson, too, I am a great I am very fond of his poems."
"You are a poet yourself, Monseigneur," I remarked, remembering that more than one poetical drama from his pen had been successfully produced on the stage.
His Royal Highness smiled, and puffed slowly at his cigarette.
"I have written one or two little things, it is true; but nothing of late."
"I wonder if I dare ask your Royal Highness to write a few lines for me as a souvenir of my visit?" I asked, not without some trepidation.
"Ah!-well-I won't promise," he laughed. "All depends whether I'm in the mood for it."
"But you will try, won't you?
And the Prince nodded assent.
Then we spoke of Servia and of recent events there; but he was not inclined to discuss the question, and naturally so, when it is remembered that his daughter was the late wife of King Peter.
Returning to the burning question of Macedonia, I saw that he was well informed of all that was transpiring around lakes Presba and Ochrida and down in Serres.
"It is a monstrous state of affairs," he declared. "Something must be done at once, for as soon as spring comes again the massacres will increase."
"But there are outrages, tortures, and massacres every day," I remarked.
"Ah yes," he sighed, "I know. Most terrible details have reached me lately. But you are going to Macedonia yourself, and you will see with your own eyes."
"And what, in your opinion, would be the best settlement of the question?" I inquired.
"There is but one way, namely, for the Powers to call a conference and place Macedonia under a governor - general, who must be a European prince. The reforms would then be carried out, and the Greek bands expelled from the country. How long will Europe tolerate the present frightful state of affairs?"
"The fact is, Monseigneur, that we, in England, are very ignorant of the true state of things, or even of the facts of the Macedonian question," I said.
"Ah, there you are quite correct. If your English public knew what was really happening-how an innocent Christian population is being slaughtered and exterminated because of international rivalry-they would cry shame upon those responsible for this wholesale murder and outrage. But" -he smiled-" I almost forget myself. My position as a ruler forbids me to talk politics, you know!" And we laughed together.
"So you are going to Servia, Bulgaria, Roumania, and to Constantinople-eh?" he remarked a little later, when we had lit fresh cigarettes. "In Bulgaria, and also in Roumania, you will see many things that will interest you. The Bul- garians are very strongly armed, and so are the Roumanians."
"Her Majesty the Queen of Roumania has also promised me audience," I said.
"When you see her, will you please present to Her Majesty my most cordial respects. She is so very charming."
"I want, Monseigneur, to visit Northern Albania, leaving Montenegro by Ryeka and Scutari. Would that be the best route, do you think?"
"What!" he exclaimed, in surprise. "Do you actually contemplate visiting the tribes up in the Accursed Mountains?"
"Certainly. Why not?"
"Well, my advice is, don't think of going there. If you do, you will never return. You'll be shot at sight, like a dog. You have no idea what those uncivilised tribes are like. The whole country is utterly lawless."
"So I understand. But I've also heard that the Albanian possesses a deep sense of honour. And I thought that I might possibly obtain permission from one or other of the chiefs."
The Prince was silent for a moment. Then, looking at me across the table, said-
"Do not go. It is far too great a risk."
His advice was the same that my, friends in London had given me; the same that I had received there, in the market-place of Cettinje.
But I was determined, and pressed His Royal Highness to assist me, at last receiving his promise of help. By his kind permission, the Albanian named Palok acted as my guide, and what eventually happened to me in that wild region will be seen in the following pages.
"Well," exclaimed the Prince at last, "if you go up there, it must be at your own risk. I've warned you of the danger. No one has been up there for many years. It has been at- tempted, of course, but travellers have either been held to ransom, and the Turks have been compelled to pay for their release, or else they have simply been shot by the first Albanian meeting them. The country beyond Scutari is the most unsafe in the whole Balkan Peninsula."
I replied that I intended to make the attempt.
"Well, then, I wish you buon viaggio," he laughed. "May every good luck attend you, and as we say in Montenegro - S'bogom! (God be with you!) When you return for I suppose you will pass this way down to the sea-come and see me, and tell me all about the Skreli and Kastrati country -for of course I am highly interested. They are always at war with our people on the frontier."
"I will let your Royal Highness know the moment I am back in Cettinje," I promised.
Then rising, he gripped my hand warmly, saying-
"Then I will help you if I can. Be careful of yourself, for I shall be anxious about you. Again, S'bogom!"
And the Prince accompanied me to the head of the grand staircase, where I made my obeisance, turned and descended through the rows of armed and bowing servants ranged in the hall, charmed by His Royal Highness's graciousness towards me and by the pleasant chat I had enjoyed.
When, after my journey through Northern Albania, I one afternoon re-entered that audience-chamber, and he came forward with outstretched hand to greet me, he exclaimed-
"Well, well! I am so glad to see you back safe and sound. You look a little thinner in the face a little travel-worn- eh? Life in the Albanian mountains is not like your life in London or Paris, is it? But never mind as long as you are safe," he laughed, placing his hand kindly upon my shoulder.
"Come along to this room. It is more cosy," and he led me to the smaller apartment, his own private cabinet.
For nearly two hours I sat relating to him what occurred on my journey, and describing the wild country which had, until then, been practically a sealed book. Even though Cettinje is so near, hardly anything was known of the Skreli, the Hoti, the Klementi, or the Kastrati tribes, save that they were brigandish bands who constantly raided the Montenegrin frontier.
The Prince listened to me with great attention, and put many questions to me as we smoked together.
Then rising, he took from a drawer in his great writing- table a small scarlet box, and as he opened it he bestowed upon me a compliment undeserved, for he said -
"There are few men who would have risked what you have done. Therefore I wish to invest you with our Order of Danilo, as a mark of my appreciation and esteem."
And he displayed to me the beautiful dark blue and white enamelled cross of the Order, the same that he was wearing at his throat, surmounted by the royal crown and suspended upon the white ribbon edged with cerise.
After he had invested me with the Order, saying many kind things to me, which I really don't think I deserved, he added-
"The chef du chancellerie will send you the diploma in due course, and I trust, when you petition your own gracious Sovereign King Edward, that His Majesty will allow you to wear this insignia."
I thanked His Royal Highness, gripped his hand, and a few minutes later passed through the line of bowing servants out of the Palace.
And that same evening I received from His Royal Highness the signed photograph which appears in these pages.
Before I left Cettinje I received the following expressive lines, written especially for me by a Montenegrin poet who is a great personage, but whose name he would not permit me to give. They are in Servian as follows, and I have placed their English translation below :-
S' veledušnog Albiona
Pružiše se dvije ruke
Crnoj Gori da pomogu
U junačke njene muke
S' vrućom rječu na ustima
Gladston diže Crnogorce
A Tenison za najprve
U svijet ih broi borce
Na glas svoih Velikana
Britanski se narod trže
Da pomože da zaštiti
Crnu Goru iz najbrže
Posla svoje bojne ladje
Sto na tečnost gospostvuju
Veledušno da zaštite
Domovinu milu Moju
O fala ti po sto puta
Blagorodni lyudi Soju
Dok je svjeta dok je greda
Nad Ulcinjem koje stoju
Hraniće ti blagodarnost
Ova šaka sokolova
Koima si u pomoci
Stiga putem od valova.
The literal translation in English is as follows:-
From the great-souled Albion,
Two arms were stretched
To help Montenegro
In her heroic sufferings.
With fiery word on his lips
Gladstone lifts up Montenegrins,
Whilst Tennyson declared them
The very first fighters in the world.
On the call of their great men,
British people rose up
In quickest manner, to help
And to protect Montenegro.
They despatched their war-ships,
Which rule over the seas,
Generously to protect
My Fatherland so dear to me.
Oh! thanks to thee, hundredfold thanks,
Noble race of men.
As long as the world lasts,
As long as the mountains above Dulcigno stand,
Will remain grateful to thee,
This handful of falcons,
To whose help thou didst come
By the road of the waves.
- An Observer in the Near East - William Le Queux. Publisher, E. Nash, 1907.
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submitted by Vukobasa to Crnogorstvo [link] [comments]


2024.05.09 12:09 Urbanexploration2021 Wrote two urbex guides (for finding locations and safety) for my subreddit - need feedback if y'all have ideas.

My community is romanian so it was originally written in romanian, just translated it with chat gpt now so that may be why some words or expressions sound weird.
How to Find Urban Exploration Locations Without Someone's Help
Google is your friend: Search, Maps, and Earth.
Most of the locations I explore are found online. The internet is the most important resource we have in urban exploration and it's not that hard to use it properly. If you search and don't find information online (let's say in Bucharest), it means you haven't searched enough (I've been to hundreds of locations in the past year, and 90% were found online) xD
I. Before you search, you need to ask yourself a few questions:
  1. What do you want to find?
Okay, urban exploration locations. What kind of locations? Are they abandoned houses or buildings, unfinished construction sites, abandoned industrial buildings, forts or bunkers, etc. There are many options, and you can easily find information by using specific searches.
  1. Where is the location?
Again, the volume of information on the internet is absolutely huge, and it helps to have a specific search (street, sector, city, county, region, country etc.).
  1. In what form do you think the information you want is? Where do you think you'll find it? Is it a social media post or a blog? Is it an article in the press? Is it in an official document?
Depending on the answer, you can adapt your search. In practice, various terms are used depending on the purpose of the text. The most efficient way to get used to this (it becomes instinctive at some point) is practice :))
II. Finding a potential location and confirming it.
The most basic option is to search for pre-made lists of abandoned places. You can search on Google for "abandoned places Bucharest" and find posts on forums, websites, social media, etc.
Obviously, the information is not always up to date (in fact, in urban exploration, it's rarely up to date), and you need to check if the location is still abandoned, which is relatively simple. Let's say you found Alex Iacob's website (Reptilianul) and see an interesting location. Let's say Aversa. It's not a good idea to assume that's all because you might end up at the location and find it's a guarded ruin (or that you're trying to enter an active building protected by the military even though it seemed like a ruin online - real story, sadly).
I first search on Google Earth what the location looks like (btw, just because it looks like that on Earth or Maps doesn't mean it's like that in reality because the image is not always updated) and check 3D or street view. If it still looks abandoned (broken windows, broken fences, graffiti, holes in walls, vegetation, holes in the roof, etc.), I do some searches on Google to find additional information. You don't always find something useful like this, but in the case of famous buildings, there is plenty of information online (check their current status and look for the latest news/posts). In the case of less known buildings, it helps to search for the exact address to see what their situation is.
And if we're talking about searches, there are some relatively well-known things ignored by many people. When you search for something on a standardized search engine (let's say a simple search on Google), you find enough close results. Basically, it searches for similar terms but not exact ones, which usually doesn't help us. You can avoid this by using an advanced search (especially since you can avoid some terms, so if you're looking for a news story about an abandoned building, you can avoid news about mainstream ones) or by putting the searched terms in quotation marks. Another thing is searching for the type of documents. Let's say you want to search for locations using some official documents. In this case, you can search by file type. For example: "abandoned buildings" filetype:pdf (and you find documents in pdf format containing the words you searched for).
Well, now you can search for some tips and tricks on Google searches because there are plenty of them :))
Another option is to spend a lot of time on Maps or Earth to find locations that seem abandoned and then check them. Here it's about patience and discipline. You can't really rush the process, you just have to invest time and effort, and you'll find locations 100%.
III. Physically verifying online information.
Regardless of your skill in finding online information, you still need to physically verify it. This depends on the person and your circumstances.
I'm more paranoid by nature, and I admit I have some issues with anxiety/overthinking, so I try to make everything as safe as possible (especially from a legal point of view). This means I don't take many risks, I check the buildings physically before entering, I take a quick look around without entering at that time. I look for guards, cameras, entry and exit ways from a building (the entrance can be slower but subtle, the exit should be quick, even if it's too obvious). Preferably, multiple exits and entrances, just in case (and it works, I haven't received any fines in 4-5 years of urban exploration).
What you do next is your choice. I prefer not to take risks if I see something suspicious; it's not like the location will disappear if I don't enter it right away.
IV. You've seen a location in someone's post and want to go there too.
Here it's complicated (obviously, you don't spam the person with messages "give me the location too"). If the photos are from inside a building, it's hard to figure out the location (not impossible). In theory, a location posted recently on this subreddit would have a vague location posted by the author (city or region, nothing more exact, and that only if the exact location is not obvious).
So you have a starting point, you know the approximate area. To increase your chances of success, you need to figure out what type of building it is. Some are impossible to find without someone giving you the location (like the recent post about Mrs. Eugenia's house here) because it's just a simple house and there shouldn't be any online information about it. Furthermore, it's not a "special" or "unique" location that you can differentiate from other houses in Romania. Other locations are easier; you see a logo, specific equipment, or anything that helps you figure out what the location was used for. For example, you see an old train and think it's something related to the Romanian Railways. Or you see an old gas mask and think it's some industrial building from the communist era. If you know the relative area, you have a chance to find the area because you've advanced to "abandoned industry Constanța" (hypothetically speaking).
If the photo is of the exterior, the situation changes (for the better) because you have a higher chance of finding the location. What do you see in that photo? Do you recognize anything? Let's say it's a photo taken from some buildings in Bucharest, and you see a fairly large lake. There aren't that many large lakes in Bucharest; you've already found some approximate areas where that building could be. Usually, there are enough details in the photos, and you can use them: tall buildings with the corporate logo on them, giant advertisements, emblematic buildings, maybe even traffic signs with the names of streets.
If you see this information, you further reduce the possible locations. You definitely find the area using Google Earth 3D view and street view to find the exact place (you practically walk around until you find from which direction the photo was taken, and then you look to see if it looks abandoned. If not, it's probably a normal building that someone climbed, so you can look for graffiti, but those are not mandatory).
Another option that rarely works (but is quick and free, so I usually test it first) is reverse search by image. I recommend a browser extension: Invid Weverify, which basically searches for an image using multiple sites (it's for fact-checking, but geolocation is part of it, so it's useful).
For those interested in geolocation, I can give you some references to something more detailed/useful. See what techniques are used in OSINT and adapt them for finding urbex locations lol. I recommend the book "OSINT Techniques: Resources for Uncovering Online Information" by Michael Bazzell, 2023 edition (btw, Libgen is brilliant, Z Library as a backup. Update: Anna's Archives is getting bigger than anything now).
I know my guide might seem disappointing; I'm sure I probably missed some "strategies," but believe me, I've been using them for years and have found plenty of locations. There's no magic solution; it's just about time, effort, and skills gained through training. I hope my little "guide" helps you :)))
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Guide to Urban Exploration Safety

Exploration is an interesting hobby, but it can be dangerous, and I think we're all aware of that. It's important to acknowledge the risks when embarking on exploration and not start with the mindset of "it won't happen to me" because anything can happen to anyone. Yes, the chances are slim, but not nonexistent. Most of the things here are logical, some maybe not. Let me start with a list of the "equipment" I consider necessary (in general, obviously depending on the situation), then I'll cover a passage about avoiding legal problems, safety issues during exploration, what to do if you encounter dogs or homeless people, and other general advice.
1. Equipment:
a) Comfortable footwear (you never know how much walking you'll do), with thick soles (to protect against nails, shards, spikes, etc.), and relatively waterproof (depends on the situation, but I've often encountered mud, puddles of water, or other liquids lol).
b) Comfortable clothing (freedom of movement), dark-colored (to avoid drawing attention, especially if you're in a building where you'd be the only colorful spot), and durable (or clothing you don't care much about getting dirty or damaged easily).
c) Mask (I know it's an investment, but a good mask should be essential). Many of the buildings we explore are old, which means there are some risks: asbestos, lead paint, or various chemicals in the air. The first two are banned, but they were legal when some of the buildings we explore were constructed. Then there's the risk of encountering chemicals that have been dumped there or were in the buildings before they were abandoned, but the container is destroyed or simply not maintained the way it used to be (and in many buildings, ventilation is quite dusty). Not to mention other minor but annoying hazards: dust and mold. Bonus: the mask helps endure the horrible smell you constantly encounter in urbex lol.
d) First aid "kit" - it doesn't have to be anything fancy, logically, but it doesn't hurt to have something on you just in case: band-aids, some bandages (the adhesive type is more useful), disinfectant (because most of the things you can cut or prick yourself on are either rusty or dirty). If it's something more serious, go to the hospital quickly (I think that was obvious, but I thought I'd add it - especially if we're talking about dog bites or cuts/piercings caused by rusty objects).
e) Situational "tools": wet wipes/disinfectant (especially if you're a smoker or if you want to eat), flashlight (I prefer flashlights that can be charged at the outlet, but also have regular batteries), power bank (because, well, you need your phone), water and some food (I've had to wait hours for security/police to leave so I could leave the building), rope/paracord (especially if you know you need to descend a considerable distance), gloves (especially if you're climbing somewhere), etc. I'm waiting for suggestions from you; I'm sure I missed something 😊)
e) Self-defense: pepper spray (for homeless people) and some food (for dogs). Also, it doesn't hurt to have some extra cigarettes or food in case you talk to a homeless person.
2. Avoiding Legal Problems
Exploration is illegal in most cases (even if there's no sign saying "forbidden," locked doors or gates, barbed wire fences, surveillance cameras, etc.), so we accept the legal consequences of our choices (and yes, even minors). I divide exploration into 3 stages: entering the location, exploring it, and exiting the location.
For me, entry should be invisible, exploration subtle, and exit quick.
First of all, I need to check if the location is abandoned. I check online first (mainly news about the location, searching for the "exact address" in quotes to find that exact address; if it's a company, I check the business details; reverse search a street photo to see if I find something, etc.), then I check physically (broken fence, broken windows, absence of surveillance cameras, absence of activity traces, absence of alarm at the entrance, etc.). If everything is fine and the location is abandoned, then I start looking for an entry. For me, entry should be subtle (preferably not through a crowded place where people can see you, not through a place with surveillance cameras), quick (to minimize the possibility of someone catching you jumping the fence), and efficient (it's useless to have a subtle and quick entry if you waste a lot of time getting into the building, so you increase the time you're in open space).
Exploration should be subtle: don't make noise, don't use bright lights (minimum necessary, you don't need a powerful flashlight to see where you're going), and don't go in a large group (3 people seems enough to me). Don't hang around windows, and if you're on the roof, try not to attract attention (especially with the light from the flashlight or phone lol).
Exiting should be as subtle as the rest, but if it can't be... well, at least it should be quick because no one will chase you anymore. Try to exit where you can check if someone is passing by (if it's near the street) or if someone is waiting for you (security or police).
I'll add here the importance of anonymity, both during exploration and afterward. I know the chances of legal trouble because of this are slim, but it doesn't cost you much to reduce risks: cover your face or at least wear a hood during exploration, avoid posting online photos/clips where features that could be used for your identification are visible (face, tattoos, etc.), if you get into urbex and are active online, don't involve your real name in the equation.
3. Building Safety Issues
Obviously, it depends on the location being explored, but usually, we're talking about buildings abandoned for some time and their condition is not ideal. First of all, this means you risk falling through the floor, having the ceiling fall on your head, and you can't really avoid that. Obviously, don't jump like a retard if you see that the floor is unstable 😊)) But usually, it matters to keep your attention during exploration (look for holes and cracks in the floor or ceiling, check how solid the object you're holding onto is when trying to climb onto something, etc.), know your limits (especially when it comes to heights, free climbing, or parkour), and don't take unnecessary risks (common sense things: don't touch unknown substances, cables, sharp objects, etc.).
4. Dogs and Homeless People
Yes, homeless people are also humans, I included them here just out of laziness. I don't recommend going to urbex with headphones on because they help you hear the noises from the ground. If you hear barking, assume there are dogs so you can play it safe: avoid those areas, don't stay outside the building for too long, check the area from above when you reach the
upper floors or the roof. Same goes for homeless people: you rarely encounter them during the day, but it helps to avoid them if you hear noises, shouting, etc. If you encounter dogs and homeless people, aggression and running away won't help. It's much better to remain calm and retreat in an organized manner. If you have no choice, engage in conversation with homeless people but not aggressively, don't show off like you have money, behave as if you have a backbone (meaning, have balls, but not in a passive-aggressive way).
5. General Advice
Watch out for tobacco, alcohol, and drug consumption. I included tobacco on the list just to emphasize the idea that you shouldn't throw lit cigarettes randomly because you risk setting fire to the location (especially if there are flammable substances there, old papers, etc.). I don't recommend in any possible way consuming anything that makes you think irrationally, especially since you need a good balance in some situations (good luck jumping high fences if you're dead drunk or high as a kite), but I think that's obvious.
Choose your locations wisely, understand your limits. I understand that some places are extremely interesting, but I don't recommend someone who has never been to urbex to explore a well-guarded or hard-to-reach building. Not to mention that some places are really risky (like subway tunnels), others are not a good idea at night (extremely damaged locations or those where the light from flashlights is very visible), and others are simply inaccessible in general (security, locked doors, surveillance cameras, etc.).
I don't recommend going urbex alone, but neither going in large groups. The larger the group, the greater the chances that someone will make a mistake or somehow attract attention (it's one thing for 1-3 people to jump over a fence and another for 5-10 lol). I actually try to create a community here, but that doesn't mean I can control the quality of the people present on this subreddit in any way. When choosing to explore with strangers you find online, some dangers arise, obviously. I'm not even mentioning those extremely unlikely dangers (to be a policeman, organ theft, etc. lol), I'm referring to more concrete ones: you don't know how cautious the respective person is, how much experience they have, what physical condition they are in, etc. You might be cautious, but you might get hurt because of the person next to you. I'm not even mentioning the possibility of encountering someone who's a jerk and does nasty jokes in abandoned buildings (locking you somewhere, leaving you behind, etc.), committing some illegalities (beating up a homeless person, setting something on fire, destroying things, etc.), and so on.
Also, urbex should not and should not be a competition. For me, all that matters is to feel good when I explore. I've met people who see exploration as a competition (x has been to y place, I have to go too) or people who are in a continuous search for validation online. I'm by no means the most experienced urbexer, but I can say that in the last 4-5 years, I've seen people who started doing urbex and then took on more and more risks (and yes, the places they've reached are cool). I believe there are few of those people (and no, I won't name names) who continue to do urbex: most of them calmed down after legal problems started to arise (I know it may not seem like it when you're young, but that criminal record can have nasty consequences), and the unlucky ones have serious medical problems (I've seen a few cases of life-changing problems in the comments, like nasty fractures, paralysis, etc.). If you look for it a bit, you'll find enough news about people who died doing urbex (and I'm not talking about suicides), so there can be serious consequences for recklessness.
That being said, I'm not here to tell you how to do urbex; the post is for those who want to explore safely and are just starting out.
submitted by Urbanexploration2021 to abandoned [link] [comments]


2024.05.09 11:54 Urbanexploration2021 Wrote two urbex guides (for finding locations and safety) for my subreddit - need feedback if y'all have ideas

My community is romanian so it was originally written in romanian, just translated it with chat gpt now so that may be why some words or expressions sound weird.
How to Find Urban Exploration Locations Without Someone's Help
Google is your friend: Search, Maps, and Earth.
Most of the locations I explore are found online. The internet is the most important resource we have in urban exploration and it's not that hard to use it properly. If you search and don't find information online (let's say in Bucharest), it means you haven't searched enough (I've been to hundreds of locations in the past year, and 90% were found online) xD
I. Before you search, you need to ask yourself a few questions:
  1. What do you want to find?
Okay, urban exploration locations. What kind of locations? Are they abandoned houses or buildings, unfinished construction sites, abandoned industrial buildings, forts or bunkers, etc. There are many options, and you can easily find information by using specific searches.
  1. Where is the location?
Again, the volume of information on the internet is absolutely huge, and it helps to have a specific search (street, sector, city, county, region, country etc.).
  1. In what form do you think the information you want is? Where do you think you'll find it? Is it a social media post or a blog? Is it an article in the press? Is it in an official document?
Depending on the answer, you can adapt your search. In practice, various terms are used depending on the purpose of the text. The most efficient way to get used to this (it becomes instinctive at some point) is practice :))
II. Finding a potential location and confirming it.
The most basic option is to search for pre-made lists of abandoned places. You can search on Google for "abandoned places Bucharest" and find posts on forums, websites, social media, etc.
Obviously, the information is not always up to date (in fact, in urban exploration, it's rarely up to date), and you need to check if the location is still abandoned, which is relatively simple. Let's say you found Alex Iacob's website (Reptilianul) and see an interesting location. Let's say Aversa. It's not a good idea to assume that's all because you might end up at the location and find it's a guarded ruin (or that you're trying to enter an active building protected by the military even though it seemed like a ruin online - real story, sadly).
I first search on Google Earth what the location looks like (btw, just because it looks like that on Earth or Maps doesn't mean it's like that in reality because the image is not always updated) and check 3D or street view. If it still looks abandoned (broken windows, broken fences, graffiti, holes in walls, vegetation, holes in the roof, etc.), I do some searches on Google to find additional information. You don't always find something useful like this, but in the case of famous buildings, there is plenty of information online (check their current status and look for the latest news/posts). In the case of less known buildings, it helps to search for the exact address to see what their situation is.
And if we're talking about searches, there are some relatively well-known things ignored by many people. When you search for something on a standardized search engine (let's say a simple search on Google), you find enough close results. Basically, it searches for similar terms but not exact ones, which usually doesn't help us. You can avoid this by using an advanced search (especially since you can avoid some terms, so if you're looking for a news story about an abandoned building, you can avoid news about mainstream ones) or by putting the searched terms in quotation marks. Another thing is searching for the type of documents. Let's say you want to search for locations using some official documents. In this case, you can search by file type. For example: "abandoned buildings" filetype:pdf (and you find documents in pdf format containing the words you searched for).
Well, now you can search for some tips and tricks on Google searches because there are plenty of them :))
Another option is to spend a lot of time on Maps or Earth to find locations that seem abandoned and then check them. Here it's about patience and discipline. You can't really rush the process, you just have to invest time and effort, and you'll find locations 100%.
III. Physically verifying online information.
Regardless of your skill in finding online information, you still need to physically verify it. This depends on the person and your circumstances.
I'm more paranoid by nature, and I admit I have some issues with anxiety/overthinking, so I try to make everything as safe as possible (especially from a legal point of view). This means I don't take many risks, I check the buildings physically before entering, I take a quick look around without entering at that time. I look for guards, cameras, entry and exit ways from a building (the entrance can be slower but subtle, the exit should be quick, even if it's too obvious). Preferably, multiple exits and entrances, just in case (and it works, I haven't received any fines in 4-5 years of urban exploration).
What you do next is your choice. I prefer not to take risks if I see something suspicious; it's not like the location will disappear if I don't enter it right away.
IV. You've seen a location in someone's post and want to go there too.
Here it's complicated (obviously, you don't spam the person with messages "give me the location too"). If the photos are from inside a building, it's hard to figure out the location (not impossible). In theory, a location posted recently on this subreddit would have a vague location posted by the author (city or region, nothing more exact, and that only if the exact location is not obvious).
So you have a starting point, you know the approximate area. To increase your chances of success, you need to figure out what type of building it is. Some are impossible to find without someone giving you the location (like the recent post about Mrs. Eugenia's house here) because it's just a simple house and there shouldn't be any online information about it. Furthermore, it's not a "special" or "unique" location that you can differentiate from other houses in Romania. Other locations are easier; you see a logo, specific equipment, or anything that helps you figure out what the location was used for. For example, you see an old train and think it's something related to the Romanian Railways. Or you see an old gas mask and think it's some industrial building from the communist era. If you know the relative area, you have a chance to find the area because you've advanced to "abandoned industry Constanța" (hypothetically speaking).
If the photo is of the exterior, the situation changes (for the better) because you have a higher chance of finding the location. What do you see in that photo? Do you recognize anything? Let's say it's a photo taken from some buildings in Bucharest, and you see a fairly large lake. There aren't that many large lakes in Bucharest; you've already found some approximate areas where that building could be. Usually, there are enough details in the photos, and you can use them: tall buildings with the corporate logo on them, giant advertisements, emblematic buildings, maybe even traffic signs with the names of streets.
If you see this information, you further reduce the possible locations. You definitely find the area using Google Earth 3D view and street view to find the exact place (you practically walk around until you find from which direction the photo was taken, and then you look to see if it looks abandoned. If not, it's probably a normal building that someone climbed, so you can look for graffiti, but those are not mandatory).
Another option that rarely works (but is quick and free, so I usually test it first) is reverse search by image. I recommend a browser extension: Invid Weverify, which basically searches for an image using multiple sites (it's for fact-checking, but geolocation is part of it, so it's useful).
For those interested in geolocation, I can give you some references to something more detailed/useful. See what techniques are used in OSINT and adapt them for finding urbex locations lol. I recommend the book "OSINT Techniques: Resources for Uncovering Online Information" by Michael Bazzell, 2023 edition (btw, Libgen is brilliant, Z Library as a backup. Update: Anna's Archives is getting bigger than anything now).
I know my guide might seem disappointing; I'm sure I probably missed some "strategies," but believe me, I've been using them for years and have found plenty of locations. There's no magic solution; it's just about time, effort, and skills gained through training. I hope my little "guide" helps you :)))
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Guide to Urban Exploration Safety

Exploration is an interesting hobby, but it can be dangerous, and I think we're all aware of that. It's important to acknowledge the risks when embarking on exploration and not start with the mindset of "it won't happen to me" because anything can happen to anyone. Yes, the chances are slim, but not nonexistent. Most of the things here are logical, some maybe not. Let me start with a list of the "equipment" I consider necessary (in general, obviously depending on the situation), then I'll cover a passage about avoiding legal problems, safety issues during exploration, what to do if you encounter dogs or homeless people, and other general advice.
1. Equipment:
a) Comfortable footwear (you never know how much walking you'll do), with thick soles (to protect against nails, shards, spikes, etc.), and relatively waterproof (depends on the situation, but I've often encountered mud, puddles of water, or other liquids lol).
b) Comfortable clothing (freedom of movement), dark-colored (to avoid drawing attention, especially if you're in a building where you'd be the only colorful spot), and durable (or clothing you don't care much about getting dirty or damaged easily).
c) Mask (I know it's an investment, but a good mask should be essential). Many of the buildings we explore are old, which means there are some risks: asbestos, lead paint, or various chemicals in the air. The first two are banned, but they were legal when some of the buildings we explore were constructed. Then there's the risk of encountering chemicals that have been dumped there or were in the buildings before they were abandoned, but the container is destroyed or simply not maintained the way it used to be (and in many buildings, ventilation is quite dusty). Not to mention other minor but annoying hazards: dust and mold. Bonus: the mask helps endure the horrible smell you constantly encounter in urbex lol.
d) First aid "kit" - it doesn't have to be anything fancy, logically, but it doesn't hurt to have something on you just in case: band-aids, some bandages (the adhesive type is more useful), disinfectant (because most of the things you can cut or prick yourself on are either rusty or dirty). If it's something more serious, go to the hospital quickly (I think that was obvious, but I thought I'd add it - especially if we're talking about dog bites or cuts/piercings caused by rusty objects).
e) Situational "tools": wet wipes/disinfectant (especially if you're a smoker or if you want to eat), flashlight (I prefer flashlights that can be charged at the outlet, but also have regular batteries), power bank (because, well, you need your phone), water and some food (I've had to wait hours for security/police to leave so I could leave the building), rope/paracord (especially if you know you need to descend a considerable distance), gloves (especially if you're climbing somewhere), etc. I'm waiting for suggestions from you; I'm sure I missed something 😊)
e) Self-defense: pepper spray (for homeless people) and some food (for dogs). Also, it doesn't hurt to have some extra cigarettes or food in case you talk to a homeless person.
2. Avoiding Legal Problems
Exploration is illegal in most cases (even if there's no sign saying "forbidden," locked doors or gates, barbed wire fences, surveillance cameras, etc.), so we accept the legal consequences of our choices (and yes, even minors). I divide exploration into 3 stages: entering the location, exploring it, and exiting the location.
For me, entry should be invisible, exploration subtle, and exit quick.
First of all, I need to check if the location is abandoned. I check online first (mainly news about the location, searching for the "exact address" in quotes to find that exact address; if it's a company, I check the business details; reverse search a street photo to see if I find something, etc.), then I check physically (broken fence, broken windows, absence of surveillance cameras, absence of activity traces, absence of alarm at the entrance, etc.). If everything is fine and the location is abandoned, then I start looking for an entry. For me, entry should be subtle (preferably not through a crowded place where people can see you, not through a place with surveillance cameras), quick (to minimize the possibility of someone catching you jumping the fence), and efficient (it's useless to have a subtle and quick entry if you waste a lot of time getting into the building, so you increase the time you're in open space).
Exploration should be subtle: don't make noise, don't use bright lights (minimum necessary, you don't need a powerful flashlight to see where you're going), and don't go in a large group (3 people seems enough to me). Don't hang around windows, and if you're on the roof, try not to attract attention (especially with the light from the flashlight or phone lol).
Exiting should be as subtle as the rest, but if it can't be... well, at least it should be quick because no one will chase you anymore. Try to exit where you can check if someone is passing by (if it's near the street) or if someone is waiting for you (security or police).
I'll add here the importance of anonymity, both during exploration and afterward. I know the chances of legal trouble because of this are slim, but it doesn't cost you much to reduce risks: cover your face or at least wear a hood during exploration, avoid posting online photos/clips where features that could be used for your identification are visible (face, tattoos, etc.), if you get into urbex and are active online, don't involve your real name in the equation.
3. Building Safety Issues
Obviously, it depends on the location being explored, but usually, we're talking about buildings abandoned for some time and their condition is not ideal. First of all, this means you risk falling through the floor, having the ceiling fall on your head, and you can't really avoid that. Obviously, don't jump like a retard if you see that the floor is unstable 😊)) But usually, it matters to keep your attention during exploration (look for holes and cracks in the floor or ceiling, check how solid the object you're holding onto is when trying to climb onto something, etc.), know your limits (especially when it comes to heights, free climbing, or parkour), and don't take unnecessary risks (common sense things: don't touch unknown substances, cables, sharp objects, etc.).
4. Dogs and Homeless People
Yes, homeless people are also humans, I included them here just out of laziness. I don't recommend going to urbex with headphones on because they help you hear the noises from the ground. If you hear barking, assume there are dogs so you can play it safe: avoid those areas, don't stay outside the building for too long, check the area from above when you reach the
upper floors or the roof. Same goes for homeless people: you rarely encounter them during the day, but it helps to avoid them if you hear noises, shouting, etc. If you encounter dogs and homeless people, aggression and running away won't help. It's much better to remain calm and retreat in an organized manner. If you have no choice, engage in conversation with homeless people but not aggressively, don't show off like you have money, behave as if you have a backbone (meaning, have balls, but not in a passive-aggressive way).
5. General Advice
Watch out for tobacco, alcohol, and drug consumption. I included tobacco on the list just to emphasize the idea that you shouldn't throw lit cigarettes randomly because you risk setting fire to the location (especially if there are flammable substances there, old papers, etc.). I don't recommend in any possible way consuming anything that makes you think irrationally, especially since you need a good balance in some situations (good luck jumping high fences if you're dead drunk or high as a kite), but I think that's obvious.
Choose your locations wisely, understand your limits. I understand that some places are extremely interesting, but I don't recommend someone who has never been to urbex to explore a well-guarded or hard-to-reach building. Not to mention that some places are really risky (like subway tunnels), others are not a good idea at night (extremely damaged locations or those where the light from flashlights is very visible), and others are simply inaccessible in general (security, locked doors, surveillance cameras, etc.).
I don't recommend going urbex alone, but neither going in large groups. The larger the group, the greater the chances that someone will make a mistake or somehow attract attention (it's one thing for 1-3 people to jump over a fence and another for 5-10 lol). I actually try to create a community here, but that doesn't mean I can control the quality of the people present on this subreddit in any way. When choosing to explore with strangers you find online, some dangers arise, obviously. I'm not even mentioning those extremely unlikely dangers (to be a policeman, organ theft, etc. lol), I'm referring to more concrete ones: you don't know how cautious the respective person is, how much experience they have, what physical condition they are in, etc. You might be cautious, but you might get hurt because of the person next to you. I'm not even mentioning the possibility of encountering someone who's a jerk and does nasty jokes in abandoned buildings (locking you somewhere, leaving you behind, etc.), committing some illegalities (beating up a homeless person, setting something on fire, destroying things, etc.), and so on.
Also, urbex should not and should not be a competition. For me, all that matters is to feel good when I explore. I've met people who see exploration as a competition (x has been to y place, I have to go too) or people who are in a continuous search for validation online. I'm by no means the most experienced urbexer, but I can say that in the last 4-5 years, I've seen people who started doing urbex and then took on more and more risks (and yes, the places they've reached are cool). I believe there are few of those people (and no, I won't name names) who continue to do urbex: most of them calmed down after legal problems started to arise (I know it may not seem like it when you're young, but that criminal record can have nasty consequences), and the unlucky ones have serious medical problems (I've seen a few cases of life-changing problems in the comments, like nasty fractures, paralysis, etc.). If you look for it a bit, you'll find enough news about people who died doing urbex (and I'm not talking about suicides), so there can be serious consequences for recklessness.
That being said, I'm not here to tell you how to do urbex; the post is for those who want to explore safely and are just starting out.
submitted by Urbanexploration2021 to urbanexploration [link] [comments]


2024.05.08 15:08 espresso-martini-pls Need help for family member with BPD

Mother is very mentally and physically ill and we need advice on coping, next steps, and medical authority in NJ. As a brief summary, she abused prescribed Xanax for 20+ years until two years ago when she decided to quit cold turkey in a rehab facility, we’ve come to realize that was not the right approach; this damaged her mental state further. She experiences intense anxiety and depression, among physical conditions, i.e., Ramsay Hunt, knee swelling, and more.
She’s been in and out of psych facilities (short term stays), goes to group meetings (or she says she does), and sees a therapist/psychiatrist. NOTHING helps. She gets worse and worse and now she is the worst we’ve ever seen.
She’s also a compulsive liar. At a few of the facilities, they’ve diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder, her mother had Narcissistic Personality Disorder so it makes sense. She lies about everything it seems to get our attention. You can’t trust a word she says about what the doctors said, she lied about losing her job and we caught her, she lies about complying with doctors but she does the opposite, as some examples among many others.
On top of this, when she’s home, she is not taking care of herself or her other son who is mentally disabled. She lays in bed all day, and smokes cigarettes constantly. She recently got pneumonia and a blood infection that caused her to pass out. She was in the hospital for one week now back in the psych ward for 7 days. We fear when she comes home, she will be a danger to herself, and others, because she doesnt take care of herself and she doesn’t understand what she needs to do to get better despite everyone telling her. I am working on becoming her medical authority in NJ because it’s clear she can’t make medical decisions for herself.
We are exhausted. She constantly calls begging for us to do something and visit her but what she doesn’t realize is that’s all we are doing, supporting her, answering every call from her, calling insurance companies, doctors, her former job, organizing finances and managing her other son’s care.
We are thinking she needs a long term stay at a mental hospital (3-6months at least) but she lies so much. Everytime she goes she says she is better after 1 week but NOTHING changes, honestly it seems like she is worse.
Any advice on how to cope, next steps, medical authority in NJ. For example, if we become her medical authority, can we commit her long term? Any advice is helpful. Thank you!
submitted by espresso-martini-pls to MentalHealthSupport [link] [comments]


2024.05.08 15:04 espresso-martini-pls Need advice and support for family member with BPD

Mother is very mentally and physically ill and we need advice on coping, next steps, and medical authority in NJ. As a brief summary, she abused prescribed Xanax for 20+ years until two years ago when she decided to quit cold turkey in a rehab facility, we’ve come to realize that was not the right approach; this damaged her mental state further. She experiences intense anxiety and depression, among physical conditions, i.e., Ramsay Hunt, knee swelling, and more.
She’s been in and out of psych facilities (short term stays), goes to group meetings (or she says she does), and sees a therapist/psychiatrist. NOTHING helps. She gets worse and worse and now she is the worst we’ve ever seen.
She’s also a compulsive liar. At a few of the facilities, they’ve diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder, her mother had Narcissistic Personality Disorder so it makes sense. She lies about everything it seems to get our attention. You can’t trust a word she says about what the doctors said, she lied about losing her job and we caught her, she lies about complying with doctors but she does the opposite, as some examples among many others.
On top of this, when she’s home, she is not taking care of herself or her other son who is mentally disabled. She lays in bed all day, and smokes cigarettes constantly. She recently got pneumonia and a blood infection that caused her to pass out. She was in the hospital for one week now back in the psych ward for 7 days. We fear when she comes home, she will be a danger to herself, and others, because she doesnt take care of herself and she doesn’t understand what she needs to do to get better despite everyone telling her. I am working on becoming her medical authority in NJ because it’s clear she can’t make medical decisions for herself.
We are exhausted. She constantly calls begging for us to do something and visit her but what she doesn’t realize is that’s all we are doing, supporting her, answering every call from her, calling insurance companies, doctors, her former job, organizing finances and managing her other son’s care.
We are thinking she needs a long term stay at a mental hospital (3-6months at least) but she lies so much. Everytime she goes she says she is better after 1 week but NOTHING changes, honestly it seems like she is worse.
Any advice on how to cope, next steps, medical authority in NJ. For example, if we become her medical authority, can we commit her long term? Any advice is helpful. Thank you!
submitted by espresso-martini-pls to caregivers [link] [comments]


2024.05.08 15:03 espresso-martini-pls Need support and advice for family member with BPD

Mother is very mentally and physically ill and we need advice on coping, next steps, and medical authority in NJ. As a brief summary, she abused prescribed Xanax for 20+ years until two years ago when she decided to quit cold turkey in a rehab facility, we’ve come to realize that was not the right approach; this damaged her mental state further. She experiences intense anxiety and depression, among physical conditions, i.e., Ramsay Hunt, knee swelling, and more.
She’s been in and out of psych facilities (short term stays), goes to group meetings (or she says she does), and sees a therapist/psychiatrist. NOTHING helps. She gets worse and worse and now she is the worst we’ve ever seen.
She’s also a compulsive liar. At a few of the facilities, they’ve diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder, her mother had Narcissistic Personality Disorder so it makes sense. She lies about everything it seems to get our attention. You can’t trust a word she says about what the doctors said, she lied about losing her job and we caught her, she lies about complying with doctors but she does the opposite, as some examples among many others.
On top of this, when she’s home, she is not taking care of herself or her other son who is mentally disabled. She lays in bed all day, and smokes cigarettes constantly. She recently got pneumonia and a blood infection that caused her to pass out. She was in the hospital for one week now back in the psych ward for 7 days. We fear when she comes home, she will be a danger to herself, and others, because she doesnt take care of herself and she doesn’t understand what she needs to do to get better despite everyone telling her. I am working on becoming her medical authority in NJ because it’s clear she can’t make medical decisions for herself.
We are exhausted. She constantly calls begging for us to do something and visit her but what she doesn’t realize is that’s all we are doing, supporting her, answering every call from her, calling insurance companies, doctors, her former job, organizing finances and managing her other son’s care.
We are thinking she needs a long term stay at a mental hospital (3-6months at least) but she lies so much. Everytime she goes she says she is better after 1 week but NOTHING changes, honestly it seems like she is worse.
Any advice on how to cope, next steps, medical authority in NJ. For example, if we become her medical authority, can we commit her long term? Any advice is helpful. Thank you!
submitted by espresso-martini-pls to CaregiverSupport [link] [comments]


2024.05.08 15:01 espresso-martini-pls Need advice for family member with BPD.

Mother is very mentally and physically ill and we need advice on coping, next steps, and medical authority in NJ. As a brief summary, she abused prescribed Xanax for 20+ years until two years ago when she decided to quit cold turkey in a rehab facility, we’ve come to realize that was not the right approach; this damaged her mental state further. She experiences intense anxiety and depression, among physical conditions, i.e., Ramsay Hunt, knee swelling, and more.
She’s been in and out of psych facilities (short term stays), goes to group meetings (or she says she does), and sees a therapist/psychiatrist. NOTHING helps. She gets worse and worse and now she is the worst we’ve ever seen.
She’s also a compulsive liar. At a few of the facilities, they’ve diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder, her mother had Narcissistic Personality Disorder so it makes sense. She lies about everything it seems to get our attention. You can’t trust a word she says about what the doctors said, she lied about losing her job and we caught her, she lies about complying with doctors but she does the opposite, as some examples among many others.
On top of this, when she’s home, she is not taking care of herself or her other son who is mentally disabled. She lays in bed all day, and smokes cigarettes constantly. She recently got pneumonia and a blood infection that caused her to pass out. She was in the hospital for one week now back in the psych ward for 7 days. We fear when she comes home, she will be a danger to herself, and others, because she doesnt take care of herself and she doesn’t understand what she needs to do to get better despite everyone telling her. I am working on becoming her medical authority in NJ because it’s clear she can’t make medical decisions for herself.
We are exhausted. She constantly calls begging for us to do something and visit her but what she doesn’t realize is that’s all we are doing, supporting her, answering every call. On top of calling insurance companies, doctors, her former job, organizing finances and managing her other sons’s care.
We are thinking she needs a long term stay at a mental hospital (3-6months at least) but she lies so much. Everytime she goes she says she is better after 1 week but NOTHING changes, honestly it seems like she is worse.
Any advice on how to cope, next steps, medical authority in NJ. For example, if we become her medical authority, can we commit her long term? Any advice is helpful. Thank you!
submitted by espresso-martini-pls to mentalhealth [link] [comments]


2024.05.08 15:00 espresso-martini-pls Need mental health support for a family member with BPD.

Mother is very mentally and physically ill and we need advice on coping, next steps, and medical authority in NJ. As a brief summary, she abused prescribed Xanax for 20+ years until two years ago when she decided to quit cold turkey in a rehab facility, we’ve come to realize that was not the right approach; this damaged her mental state further. She experiences intense anxiety and depression, among physical conditions, i.e., Ramsay Hunt, knee swelling, and more.
She’s been in and out of psych facilities (short term stays), goes to group meetings (or she says she does), and sees a therapist/psychiatrist. NOTHING helps. She gets worse and worse and now she is the worst we’ve ever seen.
She’s also a compulsive liar. At a few of the facilities, they’ve diagnosed her with Borderline Personality Disorder, her mother had Narcissistic Personality Disorder so it makes sense. She lies about everything it seems to get our attention. You can’t trust a word she says about what the doctors said, she lied about losing her job and we caught her, she lies about complying with doctors but she does the opposite, as some examples among many others.
On top of this, when she’s home, she is not taking care of herself or her other son who is mentally disabled. She lays in bed all day, and smokes cigarettes constantly. She recently got pneumonia and a blood infection that caused her to pass out. She was in the hospital for one week now back in the psych ward for 7 days. We fear when she comes home, she will be a danger to herself, and others, because she doesnt take care of herself and she doesn’t understand what she needs to do to get better despite everyone telling her. I am working on becoming her medical authority in NJ because it’s clear she can’t make medical decisions for herself.
We are exhausted. She constantly calls begging for us to do something and visit her but what she doesn’t realize is that’s all we are doing, supporting her, answering every call. On top of calling insurance companies, doctors, her former job, organizing finances and managing her other sons’s care.
We are thinking she needs a long term stay at a mental hospital (3-6months at least) but she lies so much. Everytime she goes she says she is better after 1 week but NOTHING changes, honestly it seems like she is worse.
Any advice on how to cope, next steps, medical authority in NJ. For example, if we become her medical authority, can we commit her long term? Any advice is helpful. Thank you!
submitted by espresso-martini-pls to newjersey [link] [comments]


2024.05.08 11:16 Hale-117 The Silent Patient: An in-depth Review Spoilers Ahead

Read from April 29 – May 04, 2024
1/5 stars I HATED THIS
NOTE: I started out with an open mind read the first chapter, and then this turned into a hate-read.
That being said, no hate to anyone who enjoyed this book, I would love to hear what your opinions are, both on the book and this review :)
Let’s start with my ‘favourite’ quote:
“but it is impossible for someone who was not abused to become an abuser.”
Theo Faber, Psychotherapist
I genuinely do not understand what the hype around this book is.
To be fair, the second I read the words ‘TikTok sensation’ in the advertising, I should have known better.
The thing that struck me is that Michaelides is a SCREENWRITER, and this very much reads like a script, it felt like it was written solely for the purpose of selling the movie rights.
TLDR: This book wants to be Gone Girl so bad.
So, save yourself, if this is on your TBR, forget about it, read something else, ANYTHING else, read a newspaper, just don’t read this.
Longer rant Review, including the writing, characters, setting, and my main issues with this novel.

The Writing:

Is mediocre, at best. It’s very much in the style of ‘he said, she said’.
The best way I can describe it is that it reminds me of a middle-grade novel, where everything is stated clear cut and there isn’t much effort needed on the reader’s part.
There’s nothing wrong with that, for a KID’S book, but this is NOT written for a 10-year-old.
There’s long swaths of exposition, the chapters are between 2-5 pages long, we are constantly told who’s speaking, points are stated and then re-stated kind of like:
“Alicia Berenson has not spoken in 6 years” Diomedes said.
That’s right, from what I remember, she has not spoken since her husband was killed, 6 years ago.
So much needless repetition.
The reason I said that it reads like a script is because there is a lot of useless dialogue + endless descriptions.
Each character and setting is described in such needless detail, going on for entire paragraphs, for example:
Barbie was a Californian blonde in her mid-sixties, possibly older. She was drenched in Chanel No 5, and she’d had a considerable amount of plastic surgery. Her name suited her – she looked like a startled Barbie doll. She was obviously the kind of woman who was used to getting what she wanted – hence her loud protestations at the reception desk when she discovered she needed to make an appointment to visit a patient.
This character has been mentioned once or twice previously but she is relevant for MAYBE 15 pages out of 336.
Majority of the side characters are introduced like this, however, Theo isn’t really described in much detail beyond the ‘tall, dark and brooding’ trope and neither is Alicia, so the 2 protagonists are essentially blank slates.
The dialogue is so cringey, almost every chapter mentions the weather [this is set in the UK], like the weather is used as filler relentlessly.
There’s a bunch of continuity errors, the main one that comes to mind is that at the start of the book when Theo first enters The Grove [don’t even get me started on the name of the hospital, it sounds like the name of a cartoon villain’s layer, not a psych hospital] he is asked to give up his lighter and any other objects that could be used as weapons, yet he and majority of the side characters smoke CONSTANTLY INSIDE THE HOSPITAL.
The writing also reminded me A LOT of Colleen Hoover’s writing, and if that women has no haters, then I’m dead.

The Diary Entries:

Like I said, this book wants to be Gone Girl so bad.
The diary entries are written very weirdly, they don’t read like a journal, where you might get more of a stream of consciousness sort of style, they read like POV switches from 6 years in the past.
They don’t flow and amble like you would expect.
Examples:
Tears collected in my eyes as I walked up the hill. I wasn’t crying for my mother – or myself – or even that poor homeless man. I was crying for all of us. There’s so much pain everywhere, and we just close our eyes to it.
But I ruined the mood, stupidly, clumsily – by asking if he would sit for me. ‘I want to paint you,’ I said. ‘Again? You already did.’ ‘That was four years ago. I want to paint you again.’ ‘Uh-huh.’ He didn’t look enthusiastic. ‘What kind of thing do you have in mind?’ I hesitated – and then said it was for the Jesus picture. Gabriel sat up and gave a kind of strangled laugh. ‘Oh, come on, Alicia.’
The diary entries are not diary entries, they are memories.
People don’t write down entire conversations word for word like this when they journal, like “’
I had lunch with Martha’ he said”, you write it like “Gabriel had lunch with Martha today.”
I know why the diary entries feel so weird, they read like movie scenes, like a flashback.
Like the memory/subject of the diary entry should be playing in the background while someone narrates.
Again, this was a script, not a novel, I stand by this point.

The Characters:

Character development is frankly non-existent, the characters don’t exists as themselves, they exist to serve the plot.
They have no depth, and their motivations are lacking.
Theo faber: he was abused as a kid and is therefore damaged.
Chapter 3 was literally just an exposition dump of his entire childhood, just straight out of the blue.
It was like Chapter one: a report of the murder, chapter 2 further recollection, chapter 3: so my father beat throughout my childhood, I don’t know why.
Theo’s father was verbally and physically abuse, Theo attempted suicide when he was at uni, because the things his dad said made him feel like a failure.
But we are never told WHAT has been said, and therefore, we don’t see why exactly Theo would have doubts about himself.
Abuse shapes you as a person, if we got to hear his inner thoughts about what his father said, it would give greater insight into Theo’s identity as a character.
Besides that, Theo has a RAGING saviour complex,
“Unable to come to terms with what she had done, Alicia stuttered and came to a halt, like a broken car. I wanted to help start her up again – help Alicia tell her story, to heal and get well. I wanted to fix her.”
The book is filled with passages like that.
And besides that, it’s just filled with loads of nonsense psychobabble.
Theo is also OBSESSED with Alicia, the book tells us it’s out of guilt, but I contest and say that he’s just a creep who very much treats Alicia like a failed version of a manic pixie dream girl.
Alicia Berenson: Alicia is a walking contradiction.
We are told that she is beautiful, charming, sophisticated, but she instead comes across as an anti-social, paranoid shut in with serious co-dependency issues.
She has no friends, no relationships outside of her husband Gabriel, no hobbies, or interests outside of painting and having sex with her husband.
All she does in her chapters is paint, have arguments with people, have sex, and walk around.
Side characters: only exist to serve the plot.
Professor Lazarus Diomedes: the name alone makes me cringe.
He’s Greek, he has a lot of instruments in his office including a piano and a harp [which are never brought up after the initial chapters he’s introduced and he never plays any of them], he’s “unorthodox” and shunned, and he basically exists to be Theo Faber’s ‘yes man’.
Christian: stereotypical work rival who has a habit of calling all the patients bitches.
Yuri: He’s a psych nurse who takes Theo to bar and tell him that he and his wife divorced, and he fell in love with someone else. Fine fair enough, but does he approach this woman like a normal person?
No, he pulls a Joe from YOU and stalks and harasses her.
Yet later on THEO SAYS THAT HE IS A GOOD MAN AND THAT HE IS SORRY DOUBTING YURI. DESPITE INITIALLY BEING UNCOMFORTABLE WITH HIS BEHAVIOUR.
Then again Theo himself is a stalker so go figure.

The Setting:

The Grove is supposed to be a mental hospital used to detain mentally ill criminals.
Firstly, all the patients are female. It is never stated that the hospital is an all-female facility.
Second, we never get an idea of the scope of this place, there’s only one therapy room for EVERYONE to use, only 2 psychiatrists on payroll, Diomedes and Christian, 2 therapists, Theo and a side character named Indira, one psychiatric nurse, Yuri and an admin assistant, Stephanie.
The layout and descriptions are confusing, one area is referred to as the ‘Fishbowl’ throughout the novel.
Racism:
I don’t know if Michaelides has some internalized racism going on but every single foreign character has a habit of erasing their cultural identity.
Examples:
Yuri, the psych nurse who is Latvian –
Yuri was good-looking, well built, and in his late thirties. He had dark hair and a tribal tattoo creeping up his neck, above his collar. He smelled of tobacco and too much sweet aftershave. And although he spoke with an accent, his English was perfect.
This sort of backhanded compliment is considered racist, as someone who is POC myself, I’ve gotten this plenty of times and it always gives me the ick.
Jean-Felix, the gallerist –
He spoke with an accent. I asked if he was French. ‘Originally – from Paris. But I’ve been here since I was a student – oh, twenty years at least. I think of myself more as British these days.’
There were more examples, but these are the main ones I found in my notes.

Misogyny:

Firstly, the patients are all female, like I said earlier, it is never stated that it is an all-female facility.
This book is dripping with it, every single female character is either described as a manic pixie dream girl, a maternal figure, or a psychotic bitch.
The DOCTORS refer to their patients as bitches multiple times.
Example:
“She was entirely consumed with herself and her art. All the empathy you have for her, all the kindness – she isn’t capable of giving it back. She’s a lost cause. A total bitch.’ Christian said this with a scornful expression-“
Rowena gave a derisive snort. ‘Because Alicia’s the least responsive, most uncommunicative bitch I’ve ever worked with.’
Besides that, they are often compared to birds:
“I remember Mum and those colourful tops she’d wear, with the yellow stringy straps, so flimsy and delicate – just like her. She was so thin, like a little bird.”
“Alicia was sitting alone, I noticed, at the back of the room. She was picking at a meagre bit of fish like an anorexic bird;”
Alicia is also very much painted as a manic pixie dream girl in her diary entries, almost every page of her POV mentions sex, and it has no effect on the plot.
It was mentioned so often that I ended up keeping track out of boredom [I should have also tracked how often the weather was mentioned].
I think I have 15 tabs in 300 pages by the end of it for just sex scenes.
I don't have an issue with sex, but just like in movies when it gets thrown in for no reason, that's when it irritates me.
And of course the mentally ill woman with possible psychosis and BPD has to be shown as hot and a nymphomaniac.
Every one of her POVs reads like:
“Gabriel and I had an argument and then we had sex.”
“I went for a walk and fantasized about Gabriel.”
“I was trying to paint Gabriel but then we had sex.”
“I had an argument with someone and came home to wake up Gabriel and we had sex.”
I can see why this atrocity is a BookTok favourite.
Oh, and this line: [Warning NSFW]
“It’s still populated by sixteen-year-olds, embracing the sunshine, sprawled on either side of the canal, a jumble of bodies – boys in rolled-up shorts with bare chests, girls in bikinis or bras – skin everywhere, burning, reddening flesh. The sexual energy was palpable – their hungry, impatient thirst for life. I felt a sudden desire for Gabriel – for his body and his strong legs, his thick thighs lain over mine. When we have sex, I always feel an insatiable hunger for him – for a kind of union between us – something that’s bigger than me, bigger than us, beyond words – something holy.”
She’s out on a walk and salivating over 16-year-olds. Enough said.

Medical Malpractice:

Not only is a lot of the psychology in this book outdated, but in general, there is so much misinformation.
The psychology is so outdated, and it's mostly centered around Freud.
The biggest example I can think of is Alicia’s initial treatment, she has been put on Risperidone, which is an anti-psychotic prescribed to schizophrenic patients [Also prescribed for autism, BPD, etc. but that's on a case by case basis]
In the book, Alicia is shown to be completely out if it, she’s drooling on the floor, and practically comatose.
Risperidone is NOT a sedative [it can have sedative EFFECTS, but sedation is not the function] it acts on dopamine and serotine receptors and is used to reduce symptoms of schizophrenia, i.e. prevent hallucinations and help stabilize mood.
It should not be causing Alicia to be unresponsive.
[Disclaimer, this is just coming from my basic knowledge as a med student and a few quick google searches, if I'm wrong, please correct me.]
Moving on, Theo wants to treat Alicia but she’s on 16 mg of Risperidone, which is the highest safe dose possible.
He asks Christian to lower the dose, what does Christian do?
He stops giving Alicia 16 mg and switches her to 5 mg.
An 11 mg decrease. IN ONE DAY.
There is no gradual decrease, no safety precautions, NOTHING.
For context, Risperidone is prescribed in 0.5 – 1 mg increments.
This means that an 11 mg decrease is incredibly dramatic and DANGEROUS, it can send a patient into a psychotic episode, cause them to relapse and lead to withdrawal.
Christian being a psychiatrist should know this.
Patients are allowed access to a pool table without supervision, all the doctors smoke and offer their patients cigarettes,
Yuri deals drugs, Theo seemingly does no ither work besides talk to Alicia and play detective.

Depiction of mentally ill patients:

Throughout the book the patients are often referred to as animals, monstrous or zombies.
Examples:
“Her [Elif, a patient] face was pressed up against it, squashing her nose, distorting her features, making her almost monstrous.”
“It took four nurses to hold Alicia down. She writhed and kicked and fought like a creature possessed. She didn’t seem human, more like a wild animal; something monstrous.”
[Alicia is painting, Theo is watching]
“I felt like I was present at an intimate moment, watching a wild animal give birth. And although Alicia was aware of my presence, she didn’t seem to mind.”
On top of that, the word borderline gets thrown out A LOT, but it is never explained and is often derogatory.
Example:
[This is Christian the psychiatrist speaking, warning Theo about Alicia]
‘I’m just saying. Borderlines are seductive. That’s what’s going on here. I don’t think you fully get that.’
I am not against problematic writing, as long as it serves a purpose, but Michaelides is not talented enough to do something like this intentionally, and showing patients in this light serves no purpose.
Theo makes it very clear that he thinks that Elif, a Turkish woman, is ugly and rude, it is mentioned every time she is on the page.
This sort of depiction is harmful, mental health gets a bad enough rep as it is, again, I take no issue with problematic writing, but this is not problematic or controversial, this is ignorance.
The depiction of mental illness, coupled with the use of Risperidone, indicates, to me, that Michaelides did not do his research whatsoever.
He just thought of a cool idea and ran with it.
Oh, and lastly, let’s not forget:
“but it is impossible for someone who was not abused to become an abuser.”
No, just no. ANYONE can be abusive.
Correlation does not equal causation.
This is blatant misinformation and a very harmful message to send and I was actually so angry when I read that.

The Twist [spoilers]

The twist is the most ridiculous thing, and it hangs on by a thread.
I had already guessed that Gabriel was the one who Kathy’s affair partner was, and the entire thing falls apart when you realize that if any of Theo’s chapters were dated, you would figure it out immediately.
That’s a very loose basis for a dramatic reveal.
Yes, Theo is an unreliable narrator and I usually enjoy such stories, but this was just lazy.
I’m sorry, Theo followed Gabriel all over London and never ONCE saw his face, never heard Kathy moan his name when he was spying on them, not ONCE.
It’s poor when your twist relies on my suspension of disbelief.
Conclusion
- Poorly written, reads like a middle-grade novel. Michaelides is a screenwriter, and this very much reads like a script, designed to be easy to follow and direct.
- Horrible depiction mental health, both as a patient and in practice.
- Hollow, 2D characters.
- Misogynistic.
- Overall waste of time, save yourself.

submitted by Hale-117 to books [link] [comments]


2024.05.06 23:23 Stev0fromDev0 [FNV] Constant inconsistent crashing, no idea what to do!

Let me preface this by saying I do not mod fallout New Vegas at all. Completely out of my element here. I followed Viva New Vegas and Mojave Express Guide as well as the Mojave Express Texture Guide (I understand they're no longer supported but given they were last updated 2 months ago I figured they would be relatively up to date). Added a couple extra content mods for myself but that was all. I get crashes all the time- sometimes when loading into an area, sometimes when opening the pip boy, sometimes even when just walking out and about. There's absolutely no consistency with the crashes. Sometimes they happen, other times they don't. I'd post a crash log, but they are equally as inconsistent as well, and most of the time give differing logs. If it would be helpful to post one, I'd be more than happy to.
MOD LIST (load order has been added as well below):
# This file was automatically generated by Mod Organizer. -FNVLODGen Output +OneTweak but Really Updated -OneTweak for FNV +VNV Pre-Generated LOD +VNV - LOD Patches +LODIFY FNV Wall_SoGB Editon +LODIFY - Level of detail improvement for your Fallout (TTW And NV Lods) +Different LOD mods little tweaks and additions +Parallax series -- Rocks variety +Wasted LOD - Cliffs of Mojave +More LODs Additions and fixes +TCM's LOD Overhaul +FNV LOD Supplementation - Optional Overpasses +FNV LOD Supplementation +LOD additions and improvements +Much Needed LOD fixed rocks color +Much Needed LOD +Trees LOD Billboards Vanilla +FNVLODGen Resources +LOD Fixes and Improvements - NVSE -LOD_separator +Desert Natural Weathers - NV - TTW +PipBoy 3000 Remastered -- FIXED +PipBoy 3000 Remastered -MIMIC_WEATHER_REPLACER -MIMICTWO -Simple Fog Remover +MEG - NVR PRESET -fuckingidiotpreseyt +Neutral Weathers - DNW for NVR - NV - TTW +NewVegasReloaded +B42 Optics - Real Time Reflections Patch +Real Time Reflections - NVSE +Elegant Lockpick Retexture +Minimal Atmospheric Loadscreens -Simple Main Menu HD +Fallout Show - New Vegas Title Replacer +Nut Water Overhaul +ETJ Realistic Enhanced Blood Textures +Better Fire Barrels - ESPless +EXE - Effect teXtures Enhanced -METG - FX & Extra Retextures_separator +Securitrons On Alert +securitronHD +Eyes of Torment - Ghost People Retexture +Decaying Ferals +ghouls +FeralGhoulsHD +TheFriedTurkey's Bighorners +The Molerat Extravaganza - Molerat Retexture +aMidianBorn NV Superb Mutants -METG - Creature Retextures_separator +WJS's Super Sledge Ported +The True Blade of the East +The True Blade of the West +Hatchet Remade +Shovel and Friend +Fire Axe replacer +Kitchen Knife Re-Texture +Combat and Chance's knife Retexture +Cleaver and Chopper Retexture +Bowie knife retexture +Throwing melee weapon retexture -METG - Melee Weapon Retextures_separator +Physically Based Plasma Rifles +Laser Rifle Rebirth +Laser Pistol 3rd Person Latch animation fix +WAP F4NV Laser Pistol and Pew-Pew +WAP Laser RCW +WAP F4NV Recharger Weaponry +WAP 12.7 SMG Rebirth +WAP - A Light Shining In Darkness Remastered +WAP - F4NV .44 Magnum +WAP Single Shotgun +WAP Lever Action Shotgun +WAP Bozar and LMG +WAP Gauss Rifle Texture Edit +WAP Year One and Bonus +ETJ Miniguns +Grenade Machineguns Reborn - Weapon Overhaul +Holorifle Redux - FO4 HQ Replacer +Grenade Launcher Redux - FO4 HQ Replacer +Type II's Replacer Project +VWR - Vanilla Weapons Redone - Explosives +DKS and Friends +Nail Gun Retexture +Flare Gun Retexture +Euclid's C-Finder Retexture +Weapon Enhancement Pack +IHWT - Improved Heavy Weapons Textures +Weapon Retexture from EVE -METG - Gun Weapon Retextures_separator +Physically Based Rangers +AVCCA - Animated Visor for Classic Combat Armor +Classic Brotherhood Combat Armor +Classic Fallout 2 combat armor Mark 2 (remastered) +Classic Combat Armor Replacer Redux +Classic Fallout 2 Metal armor Mk II +Classic Fallout Metal Armor +PM's HD Legion Overhaul +PM's HD Ranger Outfits +Assorted NCR Armor Retexture +Dandadern's Welding Helmet Retexture - 2k +Dandadern's Wastehound Helmet Retexture - 2k +Heaviin's Desperado Cowboyhat Retextured +Improved Desperado Hat +Veronika Outfit Retexture +Adamowicz Vault Suits +Atompunk Leather Armor - HD Retexture +Clothes HD - Doctors +Clothes HD - Powder Gangers +Clothes HD - Great Khans +Clothes HD - Prewar +Clothes HD - Gamblers +Clothes HD - Kings +Clothes HD - Wasteland +Clothes HD - Workers +Wasteland Clothing HD V1-3 FULL PACK -METG - Clothing & Armour Retextures_separator +F4NV Billboards +FNV-TTW Graffiti Redone +Vanilla Graffiti Redone +Fabulous New Vegas +HQ Freeside Shop Signs +Signs HD - Honest Hearts +HD Signs Overhaul - Part 3 +HD Signs Overhaul - Part 2 +Street Signs HD Overhaul +Nut's Street Litter Redone -METG - Signs And Decals Retextures_separator +Dead Money Graffiti Redone +Great Khans Graffiti Redone +Physically Based Beverages +Physically Based Chems -Physically Based Kitchenware +Stealthly Stealth-Boy rextexture +HD Currencies +Magazines of Unparalleled Aesthetic Quality +PM's HD Ammo Boxes +PM's Med-Textures - HD Chems and Venoms +Playing Cards HD Retexture - Plus Casino Tables +6IXES Clutter Texture Pack NV Edition +Blackwolf24s HD Clutter pack -METG - Clutter Retextures_separator +Physically Based Collection 2 -Physically Based Collection +Physically Based Wood Crates -Physically Based Terminals +F4NV Auto Doc +Pool Table and items - Redone +Resplendent Rugs - carpets retextured +Improved Rugs - HD +Through the Looking-Glass +Mccarran Escalator Glass +McCarran main terminal transparent glass +Inviting Vaults - A vault retexture -METG - Interior Object Retextures_separator -Physically Based Parkware -Motorcycles Remastered -Quality Carts +Terrific Traffic Cones +High Quality Picket Fences +NillaPlus Howitz Started--Howitz Going 4K (Nellis artillery) +NillaPlus Crate Expectations 4K (large metal shipping containers) +Textures Over Time +NCR Flag Retex 1.1 +Fractal Crystals +Rectified Water Towers +Sunset Sarsaparilla HQ Meshes Enhanced -Mormon Fort Gate Redux +Dinky the Deluxe Dinosaur - Definitive Dinky Retexture +Roads Redone (Road Retexture) +Architecture Retexture Pack (4k - 2k) +bsp_textures -METG - Architecture & Exterior Object Retextures_separator +New Vegas Palm Trees Enhanced +Wasted Pines +Micro Clutter +Vurt's Improved Plants +Simply Upscaled Grass +Mojave Flora Project +Remastered Quarries +Higher Poly Rocks +Irradiant Muck +Sandy Dunes +Nut Vegas - Landscapes +NMCs_Texture_Pack_For_New_Vegas +Base Object Swapper -METG - Landscape & Environment_separator +Pipboy Glove remover +ENB AO Fix 1.02 +MEG - Navmesh Compatibility Patch +MEG - TWEAKS +MEG - Patches +Consistent Pip-Boy Icons v4 PATCHES +NV Compatibility Skeleton -MEG - Patches & Tweaks_separator +ATMOS Ambience Overhaul +Interior Exterior Sounds Framework +ADS - Backpack - Jump Sound Effects MONO +Aim Down Sights - Backpack - Jump Impact sound Effects +JSRS Sound Mod 2.0 +Project Reality Footsteps +Immersive Pickup Sounds Patched +Platinum Radio - A New Radio for New Vegas +F4NV - Main Menu Music Replacer +A Music Addition Project - Revised +High-Quality Classic Music +Some UI Sounds (SUS) -MEG - Audio_separator +FPS Weapon Lowering +Hit - Locomotion +Hit - Drugs +B42 Inspect - aka Animated Ammo and Weapon Condition Checking +SYNC - Remade kNVSE Animation Set - Classic AK-112 - The Adytum Rifle +Combined melee animation pack +Hit's Anims - Some More Animation Fixes +Hit's Anims - Animation Fixes -Hit's Anims - Season 3 -Hit's Anims - Season 2 -Hit's Anims - Season 1 +New Vegas Animation Overhaul Guns +Vanilla Animations Weapon Scale Fix +Hit - B42 Inject Animation Pack - Season 1 +B42 Inject - Animated Item Use - ESPless +B42 Loot - Animated Physical Item Pickup - ESPless +Hit - B42 Interact Skinning +Hit - B42 Interact Animation Pack +a Smoke before the Storm - No More Workbench +a Smoke before the Storm +B42 Interact - Animated Items and Interactions Framework - ESPless +Modern Stagger animations +JAM or Just Sprint animation replacers +Diagonal movement -Hit - Service Rifle Anim Set Redux -Hit - Anti-Materiel Rifle Anim Set -Hit - .45 Auto Pistol Anim Set Redux -Hit - Assault Rifle Anim Set Redux -MEG - Animations_separator +Configurable Pip-Boy Light Color +B42 Dropmag Another Millenia Patch +B42 Dropmag NV Patches +B42 Dropmag and One in the chamber +Subtler Bullet Trails - Retexture +Bullet Trails +Kyu's Ballistics - Fixed +IMPACT - Compatibility Edition (JIP LN) (DLC - TTW - All Mods) +IMPACT +Radiation Visuals +Sneak Vignette - ESPless +Just Bullet Time DoF - ESPless +Just Loot Menu DoF - ESPless +Weapon DOF and Blur Effects -MEG - Visuals_separator +Light Up and Smoke Those Cigarettes (and Cigars and Cigarillos) +Anton Chigurh's Suppressed Shotgun - No Country for Old Men +NVRA - AutoMag +Another Millenia Gun Add-on +A World of (Less) Pain - A Lore Friendly AWOP Revision +NV Interiors Remastered +The N.V. 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Water Aliasing Fix +B42 Optics NV Patches +B42 Optics - ESPless +B42 Weapon Inertia +Smooth True Iron Sights Camera +Iron Sights Aligned +FNV Clean Animations +Anniversary Anim Pack +Viewmodel Shading Fix - NVSE +Muzzle Flash Light Fix - NVSE +Mostly Fixed FaceGen Tints (NV or TTW) -Visuals_separator +Geonox Wasteland Outfits +Full_Leather_Jacket +Wasteland Specialist Outfit for Fallout new vegas +Mechanix Gloves -Mercenary Outfit +LexFONV Clothing I for TYPE3 -100 Outfits ReColor with Field Jackets +Clint Eastwood -Man With No Name- Pack +Gloves Galore +All we need is some gloves +Courier Head Bandage +Sunglasses Collection NV +Better Brotherhood +The Living Desert - Travelers Patrols Consequences Increased Population and more +Essential DLC Enhancements Merged - JSUE Patch +Essential DLC Enhancements Merged +FPGE - EVEM Patch +Functional Post Game Ending +Misc Content Restoration - UW (VNV) Patch +Misc Content Restoration - YUP Patch +Misc Content Restoration +Uncut Wasteland (VNV) - 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ESPless +Strip Lights Region Fix +ExRB - Extended Roombounds +Crafting Consistency Fix +Depth of Field Fix - NVSE +External Emittance Fix - NVSE +Fallout Alpha Rendering Tweaks - NVSE +Aqua Performa - Strip Performance Fix +MoonlightNVSE +ActorCause Save Bloat Fix +Elijah Missing Distortion Fix +Misc Audio Tweaks and Fixes +Climate Control NVSE +Pip-Boy Shading Fix NVSE +Improved Lighting Shaders +Items Transformed - Enhanced Meshes (ITEM) +Meshes and Collision - Totally Enhanced Nifs (MAC-TEN) +PipBoyOn Node Fixes +skinned mesh improvement mod +New Vegas Mesh Improvement Mod - NVMIM +ISControl Enabler and Ironsights adjuster (now ESPless) +VATS Lag Fix +Viewmodel Shake Fix - NVSE +Combat Lag Fix (NVSE) +lStewieAl's Engine Optimizations +Stewie Tweaks Essentials INI +lStewieAl's Tweaks and Engine Fixes +Improved AI (Navmesh Overhaul Mod) +Unofficial Patch NVSE Plus +Yukichigai Unofficial Patch - YUP -Bug Fixes_separator +NVAC - New Vegas Anti Crash +KEYWORDS +UIO - User Interface Organizer +ShowOff INI +ShowOff xNVSE Plugin +Basic Console Autocomplete +Console Paste Support +Improved Console (NVSE) +kNVSE Animation Plugin +FNV Mod Limit Fix +Yvile's Crash Logger +NVTF - Texture Modding Preset -NVTF - Viva Default Preset +NVTF - New Vegas Tick Fix +JohnnyGuitar NVSE - All Tweaks Preset +JohnnyGuitar NVSE +JIP LN Settings INI +JIP LN NVSE Plugin +Fixed ESMs -Utilities_separator -Viva New Vegas 29.4.2024_separator *DLC: CaravanPack *DLC: ClassicPack *DLC: DeadMoney *DLC: GunRunnersArsenal *DLC: HonestHearts *DLC: LonesomeRoad *DLC: MercenaryPack *DLC: OldWorldBlues *DLC: TribalPack 
LOAD ORDER:
# This file was automatically generated by Mod Organizer. FalloutNV.esm DeadMoney.esm HonestHearts.esm OldWorldBlues.esm LonesomeRoad.esm GunRunnersArsenal.esm ClassicPack.esm MercenaryPack.esm TribalPack.esm CaravanPack.esm YUP - Base Game + All DLC.esm NavmeshOverhaul.esm Landscape Texture Improvements.esm Landscape Texture Improvements - YUP Patch.esm fixy crap ue.esp Bad Touch.esm Vanilla Enhancements.esm Uncut Wasteland.esm Functional Post Game Ending.esm Functional Post Game Ending - YUP Patch.esm Functional Post Game Ending - Uncut Wasteland Patch (VNV).esp TLD_Travelers.esm NVInteriors_Core.esm NVInteriors_ComboEdition.esm Uncut Wasteland - NVInteriors Remastered Patch.esm New Vegas Landscape Overhaul.esm Landscape Texture Improvements - NVLORR Patch.esm A World of Pain Revised.esm Landscape Texture Improvements - AWOLP Patch.esm CIBS-Customizable-Integrated-Backpack-System.esm Main And Pause Menus Overhaul.esm Better Brotherhood.esm Character Expansions Revised.esm mil.esp SSTMojaveFlora - BOS & LOD.esm DYNAVISION 3.esm mil_Add-On.esp Securitrons On Alert.esm MEG - Navmesh Compatibility Patch.esm Unofficial Patch NVSE Plus.esp SSTRemasteredQuarries.esp YUP - NPC Fixes (Base Game + All DLC).esp NVMIM.esp Crafting Consistency Fix.esp ExRB.esp Impostors and LOD Flicker Fix.esp The Mod Configuration Menu.esp Vanilla UI Plus.esp JustAssortedMods.esp Just Sprint Plus - JAM.esp JBTImproved.esp Diagonal movement.esp ImmersiveRecoil.esp Follower Tweaks.esp RAD.esp RAD-Fixed-NVYUP.esp DelayDLCRedux.esp Vigor.esp Vigor - SMIM Patch.esp Varmint Rifle 22LR.esp ArmedToTheTeethNV-Redux.esp Supplemental Ammo Crafting.esp Distributed Necklaces and Chains.esp 1nivVSLArmors.esp Titans of The New West.esp PAVE_NV.esp Power Armor Holo Panel.esp JSRS.esp PAHP_Edits.esp TacticalADSPlusFX.esp Immersive Pickup Sounds FNV Patched.esp Project Reality Footsteps.esp NV Music Addition.esp EVEM - YUP Patch.esp Platinum Radio.esp EVEM - Crafting Consistency Fix Patch.esp EVEM - Vigor Patch.esp EVEM - Another Millenia Patch.esp EVEM - Supplemental Ammo Crafting.esp Better Brotherhood - YUP Patch.esp Better Brotherhood - FPGE Patch.esp Trap Tweaks.esp Uncut Wasteland - YUP Patch.esp Uncut Wasteland (VNV) - Vigor Patch.esp Uncut Wasteland (VNV) - EVEM Patch.esp Misc Content Restoration.esp Misc Content Restoration - YUP Patch.esp Misc Content Restoration - UW (VNV) Patch.esp FPGE - EVEM Patch.esp FPGE - New Vegas Landscape Overhaul Re-Remastered Patch.esp DLC Enhancements.esp Essential DLC Enhancements Merged - JSUE Patch.esp FNV FaceGen Fix.esp Character Expansions Revised - Extras.esp CER - Merged Patch.esp rockbiter_AnimationSounds.esp MCMetalArmor.esp Classic Combat Armor Replacer Redux FNV.esp Fallout 2 combat armor MK2 (remastered) replacer.esp zMCArmorCombatBOS_Vanilla.esp HelmetArmorRebalanceJIP.esp GrenadeRifleReplacer.esp IMPACT.esp Kyu_Ballistics_NV.esp dD - R.B.E.T Main NV.esp WeaponBlurEffects.esp B42Inertia.esp B42Dropmag.esp B42Retrievables.esp B42Bash.esp BulletTrails.esp Little More Lamplight.esp Strip Lights Region Fix.esp Atmospheric Lighting Tweaks.esp Atmospheric Lighting Tweaks - EVEM Patch.esp DNWeathers.esp Interior Rain.esp CC - Rain.esp CC - 3D Rain.esp Acies Apachii Hair.esp AEK971C.esp AK112.esp ATMOS Ambient Overhaul Intense.esp ATMOS Ambient Overhaul.esp Automag.esp B42Inspect.esp Chigurh_Suppressed_Shotgun.esp clintsfistfulrevolver.esp FPS Weapon Lowering.esp Geonox_Wasteland_outfits.esp Glove_be_gone.esp GlovesGalore.esp GlovesGalore_DeadMoney.esp HairPatcher.esp hitdaciggy.esp HitDrugs.esp ilbuonorevolver.esp Interior Exterior Sounds Framework.esp LexFONVclothingI.esp LexFONVclothingIPonchos.esp LightUpAndSmokeThoseCigarettes_edisleado.esp manwithnoname.esp Mechanix Gloves.esp Mojave Nights.esp NeutralWeathers.esp NVRA - ASVAL VSS.esp QwibHeadBandage.esp RadiationVisuals.esp Realism Redux.esp SimpleNightVision.esp Sunglasses Shipment.esp TGL.esp Viva New Vegas - LOD.esp Wasteland_Spe_Outfit.esp 
Please, experienced mod-goers, let me know what's wrong. I need to fix my game! I can't live like this!
submitted by Stev0fromDev0 to FalloutMods [link] [comments]


2024.05.05 23:22 AustralianChrono Chronologica's Drag Race Season 5: Reunited!

“Are you ready?” Yasmin Raiz places a MASSIVE bowl of fried rice onto the table. “Hi everyone, it’s Yasmin Raiz, your Season 4 Mx Congeniality, and I’m here to host our REUNION of Season 5 of Chronologica’s Drag Race!” Yamin stands to welcome the monarchs. “Welcome back the lovely contestants of CDR Season 5! Madam Maine!”
Madam Maine re-wears her finale look: a top hat, fitted black and white suit and a pair of silver boots with a cane. She bows and smiles broadly, looking nervous.
“Kaia K. Beauvoir!”
Kaia strides out confidently in an elaborate gold and silver pageant dress, with silver hair that glitters with metallic extensions.
“Cwunchie!”
Cwunchie is dressed as a little yellow plastic flower, with big petals and a tiny narrow stem. Her arms and legs are constricted at her sides in the stem and she hops along the runway towards her chair, grinning wildly.
“Now, let’s welcome the elephant in the room.” Yasmin smiles. “Bates Baghdashi, everyone!”
Bates arrives in a sepia-painted Agatha-Christie-esque detective look, with decadent shades of tan, brown, and black, an oversized magnifying glass, a briefcase, and a messy mop of Sherlockian curls.
“Oh, I love this.” Yasmin claps.
Bates lights an oversized origami faux cigarette, pretends to smoke from it, then flicks it away, where it unfurls into a bird, already aflame, and blasts away into the air, powered by a miniature firework.
Madam Maine looks very afraid for a moment, and starts to stand up.
“Before we continue, I want to let everyone know that their safety is assured! You are not in danger.” Yasmin smiles at Maine. Bates blushes.
Maine sits back down.
“Say hello, it’s Mermaid princess, Cleo Mertoris!”
Cleo wears a golden seashell bikini top stoned to the gods, showcasing some clear, recent work done on her chest, as well as a tight blue mini dress, as she flicks back her long luscious ginger hair with a smirk.
“Drag Princesita!”
Princesita waves in a sepia coloured maxi dress and bald head look, with bronze glitter on the top of her now shaved head, as she spins around with a smile on her face.
“It’s Briar Midnights!”
Briar walks out dressed quite similar to Ambrose’s traditional look- a tophat and sleek black trench coat, with jet black, wet hair and a half-smirk.
“Ms Stripes, Starzanne!”
The others look unimpressed as Starzanne walks out in an American Eagle style look, with feathers, glitter and fringe wrapped around her body.
“Ambrose NOIR!”
Amborse wears a black plaid mini skirt and white linen shirt, going for a rare fem drag look, with long black braids with hundreds of little pins wrapped into the braids.
“S-S-e-v-e-r-a!”
Severa rocks BODY on the main stage, wearing a bikini top and denim short combo, as well as a sensible pair of blue boots and pigtails to add the final touch.
“Magenta! Leigh! Simmons!”
Magenta gaps, wearing a Magenta coloured plaid look, wrapped around her body to create a fitted garment, along with a Magenta pair of sneakers.
“Jupiter Sterling!”
Jupiter rocks a head to toe, douchebag Vuitton look- jacket, shirt, pants, glasses and a backwards baseball cap.
“Apocalyptica!”
Apocalyptica looks slightly displeased- wearing a bright, toxic green look that appears to have toxic slime wrapped around her, in a similar vein to a past look.
“Lupe LaBelleza!”
Lupe wears a sensible pussycat wig, red coat and matching pencil skirt, with a black sheer turtleneck and a red fedora, along with a pair of black sheer socks being held up by garter belts and classic black pumps with a smile.
“And our winner, Nymphe d’Azote!”
Wearing her crown on her shoulders, her head too small for her crown, Nymphe is dressed in a glittering yellow robe, wearing a matching facemask looking ready for a spa moment, along with a wig, made entirely of bubbles!
Yasmin smiles, handing people plates of rice. “Now, today we're spilling ALL of the TEA. At the start of our season, we said goodbye to some girls that some fans really wanted to see more of. Say hello to Madam Maine, Miss Kaia K. Beauvoir, and…”
“CWUNCHIE!!!!” Cwunchie interrupts happily.
Severa rolls her eyes.
Cleo rolls her eyes.
Kaia rolls her eyes.
Severa glares at Cleo.
Cleo glares at Kaia.
Kaia glares at Severa.
Yasmin smiles. “Madam Maine. Once and for all, can you tell us why you’re named after a state you’re not even from?”
“Oh! Haha.” Madam Maine laughs nervously, eyeing the cameras. “I really like Maine. I have a French Canadian aunt who lives up there.”
“French Canada? Is she related to French Montana?” Magenta asks.
“Oh…no.” Madam Maine smiles awkwardly.
“A lot of our viewers this season questioned whether you were totally ready for the Drag Race experience. What’s your take?”
“I will be honest. I wasn’t.” Maine flushes. “I don’t think that I totally understood the caliber of some of these performers, and…I was in such awe of them. I feel really lucky that I’ve gotten to know some of my castmates, including all the first outs before me. Jupiter and Princesita especially, I really feel have shown me love.”
“You’re a sweetheart, honey.” Princesita smiles. “I hope you get your chance to come back someday too.”
“Are we going to do that every few seasons? Because it’ll get old, QUICK.” Severa responds. “Twists are only twists if we don’t see them coming.”
“Agreed.” Kaia says.
Princesita frowns.
Yasmin looks at Kaia. “Kaia, you represented, I believe, our first instance of a child of Drag Race–that is, your drag mom, The Mother Delilah, competed on season 2.”
“That’s right.” Kaia nods, keeping one eye warily on Severa and Cleo. “As a trans woman, it was important to me to be part of a legacy of successful trans women.”
“Delilah was successful?” Severa half jests with a smirk. “I think there have been plenty of trans women on the show who were more successful.”
Lupe looks like she wants to say something, but doesn’t.
“Whatever, I’m proud to be a daughter of Miss Delilah regardless and even more proud of having a healthy and kind relationship with the woman who inspired my craft.” Kaia says haughtily. “Not all of us can say that after all.”
“Ooooooooo…” the room roars.
Severa makes a displeased face and shrugs.
“One question about your time on the show, Kaia.” Yasmin looks around. “Why do you, in particular, think you ended up going home so early? A lot of fans were very surprised.”
“I think it’s quite obvious that Cleo’s leadership in that challenge was disastrous for me and everyone else on it. I’d assume that Cleo’s current appearance reflects how people received her during this season.”
“You mean my gorgeous knockers?” Cleo shimmies.
“I mean, your cheap bra and panty set.” Kaia snaps. “And-”
“You’re so smug.” Cleo interrupts. “As if you have anything to be smug about. Not with that mug, you don’t, mate.”
“At least I can still afford my makeup.” Kaia shoots back.
Cleo huffs and crosses her arms.
“Cwunchie! You were a force of nature for a short time with us this season.” Yasmin looks nervous to even speak to Cwunchie.
“WOOOOOOHOOOOO!” Cwunchie yells. “This show did NOT disappoint! I–”
It then cuts to an ad break.
~
“Welcome back to the Chronologica’s Drag Race Season 5 Reunion! Onto, the infamous, Bates!” Yasmin smiles. “You had one of the most DRAMATIC moments, ever in history. Let’s look back.”
Bates grins as the cast turns to watch the TV screen.
~
Will the following-
Wait.
Everyone looks concerned. For a moment, the stage is perfectly still, as the judges and racers wait with uncertainty.
In the distance, sirens are heard. The sirens get closer. And closer.
Suddenly, a group of police officers in full riot gear burst into the room through a production door. Crew members and producers look shocked and frantic. The police officers are led by a stern-faced man with a badge that reads "Officer Jeffery," who steps forward, his hand gripping a pair of handcuffs.
What?
Office Jeffrey points directly towards the racers. Everyone looks to see who he’s pointing at.
Bates stares back at the officer expressionless, blood still dripping from their look.
"Mahdi Hakimian?” The police officers crowd onto the stage towards Bates.
“Oh my god.” Magenta gasps.
Princesita starts to say something, and Jupiter reaches over to cover Princesita’s mouth.
“Yes.” Bates gulps.
Officer Jeffery reaches towards Bates. “Turn around and place your hands behind your back.”
Bates stands silently, his face expressionless.
“I am placing you under arrest in connection with the murders of Javad Tahmasb, Hamidreza Entezami, Mohamad Askari, Mostafa Shahi, Ali Reza Arjmand, Arman Nousari, Elahe Nousari, Setareh Tarokh, and Mohammed Tarokh."
Magenta falls to the ground in her bra and panty set, as everyone looks in stunned silence.
Bates slowly raises their hands as the police officers move closer, handcuffing them.
Everyone looks in disbelief. The judges look shocked and horrified.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Bates looks at Apocalyptica, still expressionless, and speaks softly. “Christian…I’m sorry.”
“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights?”
Bates gives a nearly imperceptible nod.
Apocalyptica’s eyes well with tears. “Batesy?”
~
“Traumatic.” Apocalyptica looks at Bates, who exhales.
“To explain this….” Yasmin looks over. “Rachelle Mirage!”
Rachelle walks in with a smile.
“You two have worked hard together- tell us, what happened?!”
“I am, as we’d all know, originally from Iran. And- I knew it was a risk.” Bates exhales. “And they found out, and tried to have me extradited back from the US, for an alleged murder.”
“You killed someone?” Magenta gasps.
“A set up. Some of my former schoolmates had reported to the government that I had been cast here. So they falsified police records to make it look like I had done something which… was just because I, a Queer person, was representing the country in a way that didn’t match their… image.” Bates nods.
“Then comes… me.” Rachelle grins. “I could not let this happen.”
“Thank you, Rachelle.” Bates smiles.
“I felt something was off. And, I served as a character witness in the International Criminal Court, where… Eventually, after little evidence, we were able to not only have this gorgeous artist freed- but, I pulled some strings…”
“And I am now living in Denver.” Bates responds, holding Apocalyptica’s hand.
“What a shocking story.” Yasmin smiles. “And Apocalyptica, I must ask- are you two…?”
“We live literally across the street from each other.” Apocalyptica smiles.
The two grin.
“Now next up! She was one of our famous RETURNEES- Ms Cleo Mertoris, who won her first challenge- then proceeded to go home. Cleo, how did you feel about your journey?”
“I think… I should’ve gone much further than I did, to be honest.” Cleo shrugs.
“Girl...” Severa stares at Cleo for a few seconds. “You deserve exactly what you got- because you weren’t talented enough to survive a lipsync.”
“Not Miss ‘Double Sashay’ talking.” Cleo gasps. “At least I could pay for my tits myself, and not resort to sugar daddies huh Sevvie… Fucking bitch!” In a flash, Cleo, angrily standing, throws her drink onto Severa, who yelps.
In a flash, Yasmin tries to pull Cleo away from Severa, but Cleo does her best to claw at Severa.
“The fuck?” Jupiter yells.
“Don’t fucking call me Sevvie ever again!” Severa yells, scrubbing at her ruined dress and crying while subtly drinking the cocktail on her face.
“I’ll call you whatever I fucking want! Coming for my fucking gig!” Cleo shrieks.
“Let’s stop this-” Yasmin raises her hand.
Cleo spits at Severa. “Fuck you, fucking whore. You only transitioned to copy me! I MADE YOU! I-”
“WE’RE GOING TO ANOTHER BREAK!” Yasmin yells.
~
Severa tries to shake cocktail out of her wet wig.
Lupe covers her mouth with one hand. Kaia is laughing.
Nymphe suddenly stands and aggressively wrings out Severa’s wig, as Severa winces.
“Well!” Yasmin says sharply. “Are you okay, Severa?”
“I’m fine.” Severa huffs, bent over as Nymphe wrings her wig out. “I started my transition because, since the season aired, I came to terms with a lot about myself. Including how some of my behavior on the season was…rash. I’ve definitely been hiding from this moment. And Cleo has nothing to do with it.”
Lupe apologetically speaks up. “Pienso que, Severa, that Cleo might just be jealous of you.”
“You know it, mami.” Severa sighs. “I also really want to express some sincere apologies to you.”
Lupe looks startled.
“I think that with our time on the show, I was often jealous of you. Unlike me, or Cleo, or Kaia, you have been confidently living in your womanhood for a long time. I’ve followed you for a long time…and I fucked up.” Severa nods. “I am sorry.”
“I accept your apology, darling.” Lupe smiles. “It’s all I ever needed.”
“Now, these two were our OTHER, non finalist returnees, and both have… wild journeys.” Yasmin smiles.
“Non finalist.” Princesita frowns.
“You did good, Mami.” Lupe smiles. “I know it was hard…”
“I lip synced- a lot.” Princesita nods. “And it was hard.” Princesita begins to tear up. “Because, I believed I could do better, you know?”
Magenta holds Princesita’s hand.
“But- you must keep going. You can never push yourself too far, and maybe this wasn’t my journey. I think… I think I've accepted that now.” Princesita sighs.
“Regardless of how it ends, know that you should be proud of yourself, girl.” Kaia shrugs. “Like, we can’t all win.”
“Like me.” Starzanne jokes.
Nobody laughs.
“Well, turning to you, Starzanne, you had a controversial moment this season, in your makeover moment….” Starzanne turns. “How did it feel, watching it back?”
“I feel bad.” Starzanne closes her eyes. “And… I’m learning, I’m working on what I know, how to do it better, how to…” Starzanne sighs. “Do more than what I did, and truly, I feel shame.”
“I kinda think it’s bullshit.” Severa looks at Starzanne. “Because I think you knew better.”
Ambrose and Briar nod in agreement.
“HOWEVER…” Severa shrugs. “Good for you.”
Starzanne pouts, before nodding. “I aim to really deliver, I p-promise.”
The others look uncertain.
Bates sighs. “As the Middle Eastern refugee here, I can’t speak for Mohammed, who it’s obvious you really hurt and mistreated…and I hope he never has to see or work with you again. Because I hope you do learn, Starzanne. But also know the work is on you, not people of color.”
Severa gulps.
“Moving onto a power couple, or power ex-couple, this season. Briar and Ambrose…”
Jupiter woofs.
“How are we going since the season?” Yasmin asks.
“We’ve reconciled.” Ambrose looks at Briar with a knowing glance.
“I think both of us felt intense pressure this season.” Briar nods. “We both wanted to exist separate, but were so intrinsically tied to each other…”
“Ultimately I did think it led to our failure.” Ambrose sighs. “And- that’s fair, because it was a lesson to learn.”
“The lesson, being?”
“We are powerful- together.” Ambrose smiles, holding hands. “But, we believe it’s important to make space.”
“So, where does that mean for you now?” Yasmin asks. “The both of you.”
The two look at each other.
“We’re creating space, yet, collaborating.” Ambrose nods. “And-”
“They’re fucking again, BUT not doing duo gigs. Only attending gigs together.” Magenta chuckles.
Everyone gasps.
“Well… true.” Briar shrugs.
“Now, finally- the shocking moment… right before the semi final.” Yasmin nods. “Let’s look.”
~
I’ve made my decision.
Jupiter Sterling, Shantay you stay.
“Thank you.” Jupiter exhales. “Thank you.”
Severa closes her eyes, whispering to herself. “Severa, shantay…”
Severa and Magenta Leigh Simmons…
The others look on.
Thank you for being here, and doing great work this season. Now, I must say… sashay away.
“Damn!” Magenta yells, as Chronologica chuckles.
Everyone in the back of the stage look flabbergasted.
“No, thank you for this.” Magenta bows.
Severa looks at the judges for a split second, before walking off without a word.
“...Damn!” Magenta says again, as the others laugh. “I’m strutting off with GRACE.”
Magenta raises her hands in the air, as she walks off with a cheer.
~
“First, you- Severa, how are you feeling with time?” Yasmin asks.
“I feel as if that’s a different girl. Kinda. She’s thinking she’s giving nothing, not caring- but she cares too much, she’s lost that war. I think of myself as effortlessly fierce- but I did get stressed. I wish I… walked off and stomped the stage.” Severa sighs. “Instead of that.”
“And that’s okay, because we all- get there, sometimes.” Princesita says. “It’s about what you do next.”
“I’m going to win, girl.” Severa jokes. “They gotta make another All Stars so this diva can take the title.”
Everyone chuckles.
“Magenta, how did you feel, about being the other half?”
“I am happy, because if I’m being damn honest, I didn’t expect to make it this far!” Magenta laughs. “And I was me the whole damn time.”
“I love you for being you.” Jupiter adds. “You’re real, Ms Simmons. We honor that.”
“And not everyone can say that.” Nymphe smirks.
Apocalyptica grips Bates' hands.
“Now, it’s time for us to celebrate… some titles.” Yasmin smiles. “First, our GOLD BOOT title of the Season- ugliest outfit. Winner of a $5000 grand prize….”

Starzanne Stripes and September Remembers arrive in what else, but red, white, and blue. September looks patchy- his face is painted red, white and blue, in an attempt to cover his beard. Starzanne and September are both wearing fringe dresses that look straight out of a car wash, and it’s the epitome of… awkward.
“Starzanne!”
Starzanne chuckles, grabbing the trophy.
“Anything to say, Starzanne?”
“I am now wearing a lot LESS red, white and blue.” Starzanne nods.
The others awkwardly chuckle.
“Now, our title of SHADE- The Shadiest C.U.N.T this season.” Yasmin smiles. “Can I have a drumroll?”
“Cleo?” Severa looks over at the empty seat laughing.
“SEVERA!” Yasmin cheers. “Condragulations, you’ve won $10,000!”
Severa chuckles, grabbing the sash. “Thank you,I’d like to thank Cleo, Alcohol, and the rest of you for being too boring to get confessionals!”
Lupe laughs dramatically.
“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not!”
Everyone laughs.
….
“Finally, MY successor.” Yasmin smiles. “This year, the Congenial title will win $20,000, sponsored by Virtue Beauty.”
Everyone looks excitedly.
“The Winner is… MAGENTA LEIGH SIMMONS!” Yasmin cheers, as everyone starts clapping.
“Yes, yes!” Magenta cheers, as Yasmin puts the sash on her.
“Do you have anything to say, my Queen?”
“I-” Magenta smiles. “Damn.”
Everyone cheers.
“She’s finally out of things to say everybody!” Kaia laughs.
“Ugh…” Apocalyptica whimpers, wiping her eyes, as the others look over.
“Popsicle, are you okay?” Lupe asks.
“I’m- I’m fine.” Apocalyptica sighs. “I just- am really happy for Magenta.”
Magenta smiles.
“Bullshit.” Nymphe looks over.
The room is quiet.
“You expected this win, and again, you’re inauthentic, you’re lying, and you’re not owning up to when you want something.” Nymphe responds.
“I-” Apocalyptica tears up, holding onto Bates. “I-”
“I do have a question to ask, actually, as the crowned Ms SHADE.” Severa smirks. “Ms, Popsicle- we noticed your lack of presence at the crowning. You weren’t at any of the cast parties we held to celebrate or any of the events we planned, so what’s really up?”
Nymphe looks over.
“What happened?”
“I didn’t feel up to it. I was a bit sad, and I really did want to be there- but I-I felt physically ill, and…”
“Bullshit, again.” Severa rolls her eyes.
“Alright, you guys can have your opinions on everyone’s actions, but we don’t need to gang up on her.” Bates says, raising their voice a little..
“I don’t know what any of you mean…” Apocalyptica sighs. “I just-”
“You wanted to win, so you’re bitter. You kept denying it- but clearly, you positioned yourself in a way to do well. And you lost. So, why not own up to it?” Nymphe asks.
“Ugh, Can you go fuck yourself?” Apocalyptica snaps.
“Woah.” Magenta says.
Everyone looks spooked.
“Popsicle… You don’t have to acknowledge them…” Bates whispers.
“Of course I wanted to win.” Apocalyptica exclaims loudly. “I wanted to prove alt drag, to prove myself, and I don’t think that trying to be nice while doing so is a sin. ” Apocalyptica says. “LIKE-”
“Because you weren’t being real.” Severa looks at Apocalyptica. “Not the sweet girl who always happens to copy others.”
“I- You can think whatever you want. I…Actually I’m not going to continue to engage with this narrative.” Apocalyptica stutters as she turns to hold onto Bates.
“If you owned being unoriginal, maybe you’d have won.” Nymphe shrugs.
“Okay hold up- I’m mad she didn’t show up to our get togethers either but unoriginal?” Kaia inserts herself into the conversation. “We all get inspired and learn and take notes from others, like that’s the point of drag families, Delilah taught me so much, does that make me unoriginal? Have none of us ever felt inspired after seeing a good drag show or look?”
“I learned a lot from everyone in my short time here, my drag has changed a lot from all of you.” Madame Maine smiles.
“Girl, there’s a difference between being inspired and trying to steal my signature move the week after I leave.” Severa turns back at Kaia and Madame Maine.
“And were you the first to ever do that move? You came up with it with absolutely no influence from anyone else.” Apocalyptica bites.
“I don’t remember getting any credit or even a shoutout.” Severa stares at Popsicle.
“Do you give credits to who helped teach you how to dip every time you do it?” Apocalyptica retorts. “Whatever, i'm just so over this conversation.”
“Cool.” Nymphe bluntly states.
Apocalyptica rolls her eyes. “Cool.”
A couple of seconds pass of silence.
“Well, thank you all for a lovely season.” Yasmin smiles breaking the tension. “Now, before we go… Here's a sneak peak of SEASON 6 of Chronlogica’s DRAG RACE, coming soon!”
~
This has been… magic.
“It sure has.” Nymphe nods, sipping her pink tea. “But the magic… lives on and continues, as does the journey of the forest. It is… eternal.”
It's magic, you know…
Thirteen figures flash, as someone grabs a potion labeled ‘IMMUNITY’.
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2024.05.04 19:41 UnnamedArchon Europe’s Enemy: Islam or America? Guillaume Faye’s Le coup d’Etat mondial

By Michael O'Meara
Original Article
Guillaume Faye Le coup d’Etat mondial: Essai sur le Nouvel Impérialisme Américain (Global Coup d’Etat: An Essay on the New American Imperialism) Paris: L’Æncre, 2004
Fas est ab hoste doceri. (It is permitted to learn from the enemy.) — Ovid
This past spring, for the sixth time in six years, Guillaume Faye has published a book that redefines the political contours of European nationalism (“nationalism” here referring not to the defense of the nineteenth-century “nation-state,” but of Magna Europa). Like each of his previous works, Coup d’Etat mondial speaks to the exigencies of the moment, as well as to the perennial concerns of the European ethnos. In this spirit, it offers a scathing critique of the “new American imperialism” and the European anti-Americanism opposing it, while simultaneously contributing to a larger nationalist debate over Europe’s destiny. Framed in terms of Carl Schmitt’s Freund/Feind designation, this debate revolves around the question: Who is Europe’s enemy? For Schmitt, this question is tantamount to asking who threatens Europe’s state system and, by implication, who threatens its unique bioculture.
During the Cold War, the more advanced nationalists rejected the conventional view that Soviet Communism was the principal enemy and instead designated the United States. This is evident in the works of Francis Parker Yockey, Jean Thiriart, Adriano Romualdi, Otto Strasser, Alain de Benoist, and in the politics of the sole European statesman to have defended Europe’s independence in the postwar period: Charles de Gaulle.
It was not, however, America’s occupation of postwar Europe that alone aligned these nationalists against the U.S.—though this was perhaps cause enough. Rather, it was the liberal democratic basis of America’s postwar order, whose deculturating materialism was seen as corrupting the biocultural foundations of European life. The Soviets’ brutal occupation of Eastern Europe may therefore have broken the bodies of those opposing them, but America, for nationalists, threatened their souls.
Today, this anti-American opposition persists, but has come to signify something quite different. What has changed, and this starts to be evident in the late 1980s and even more so in the ’90s, is Third World immigration, which puts the American threat in an entirely altered perspective. In nationalist ranks, Faye stands out as the principal proponent of the view that Islam and its nonwhite immigrants now constitute Europe’s enemy and that America, though still an adversary, has become a less threatening menace.
For Faye, the New American Imperialism (NAI) associated with the Bush administration supplants the earlier, more implicit imperialism of the Cold War era. This imperialism, though, is not specifically Bush’s creation, for it arose in the Cold War’s wake and took form in subsequent aggressions on Somalia, Bosnia, Kosovo, Afghanistan, and now Iraq.
The older imperialism had a Wilsonian facade, legitimated with moral pronouncements and a naive, but occasionally sincere, effort to regulate the world according to its liberal principles. By contrast, the NAI rejects this “softer” (and actually more effective) variant of American power for a policy that aggressively asserts U.S. military might irrespective of “world opinion.” It ceases thus to pursue its interests through international organizations embodying its liberal world view and instead embraces a militaristic unilateralism that defies international convention in the name of America’s “vital interests.”
Against the arguments of its apologists, Faye claims the NAI is not the hard-headed, morally clear assertion of American power that they make it out to be, but rather a puerile, utopian, and unrealistic one based on the notion that tout est permis!— anything goes. The United States may be the world’s dominant power, but it lacks what Aristotle and the conservative tradition of statecraft understood as the enduring basis of power: prudence. For in confusing dominance with omnipotence, the NAI’s neoconservative executors, like all who draw the wages of hubris, inadvertently earn themselves—and America—the likelihood of a tragic fall.
In this vein, U.S. vital interests (what the present administration defines in Zionist, militarist, and globalist terms) are treated as the sole permissible basis of national sovereignty. A state—”rogue” or otherwise—that exercises its autonomy, fabricates weapons of mass destruction (i.e., weapons capable of ensuring its sovereignty), or resists Washington’s dictates is deemed an enemy and risks reprisal. Implicit in this redefinition of America’s world role is the assumption that the United States is the world’s gendarme, its lone sovereign power, obliged to uphold a law which is synonymous with its own strategic interests.
Moreover, the NAI’s assumption that the United States has the capacity to dominate the planet is, if nothing else, simpleminded. Its proponents might think they are breaking with the legalistic or Kantian postulates of liberal internationalism by pursuing hegemonist objectives with military methods (which, in itself, would be unobjectionable), but this readiness to substitute raw power for other forms of power (that is, for power exercised in the “thieves’ den” of the United Nations or through international regulatory agencies the United States created after 1945) is informed by the Judeo-Protestant illusion that America does God’s work in the world. This cannot but disconnect them from all they seek to dominate, for in applying their illusory principles to an intractable reality, they cannot but lurch from disaster to disaster.
The NAI’s peculiar mix of political Machiavellianism and millennial Calvinism has been especially prominent in Iraq, the conquest of which was to be a cakewalk. Not only did Bush and his advisers have no idea of what they were getting into, they completely misread the capacities of American power. If the U.S. Air Force possesses unparalleled firepower, the modern American soldier cannot fight on the ground. With half its army occupying a country with no military capacity and its helicopter gunships, Bradley Fighting Vehicles, and body-armored ground troops arrayed against lightly-armed and untrained insurgents, it is stretched to the breaking-point.
Despite its imperialist ambitions, America is not Rome. Faye argues that it is more like a house of cards—an ephemeral economic-political enterprise—lacking those ethnic, religious, and cultural traits that go into making a great people and a great power.
As any white Californian will attest, there is, in fact, no longer anything particularly American about America, only people like the turbaned Sikh who drives the local cab, the Mexican illegal who mows our neighbors’ lawn, the Indian programmer who replaces his higher-paid white counterpart, the Chinese grocer who sells us beer and cigarettes late at night, the African who empties the bedpans in our nursing homes, the Africans of American birth who run our cities and public agencies, and the white zombies insulated in distant, manicured suburbs, where the voices of children are rarely heard. For Faye, this disparate hodgepodge is not a nation in any historical sense, only an artificial social system, whose members, as Lewis Lapham has written, are “united by little else except the possession of a credit card and password to the internet.” Why, it seems almost unnecessary to ask, would an American Gurkha risk his life for such an entity?
The military technology of Imperial America undoubtedly lacks an equal, but its centrality to U.S. power, Faye claims, testifies to nothing so much as the enfeebled cognitive abilities of its elites, who think their computerized gadgetry is a substitute for those primordial human qualities that go into making a people or a nation—qualities such as those that steeled not just Rome’s republican legions, but the Celtic-Saxon ranks of the Confederacy, the gunmen of the IRA, the indomitable battalions of the Wehrmacht, and the Red Army of the Great Patriotic War. In the absence of these qualities forged by blood and history, the NAI’s space-age military (whose recruiters now slip beneath the border to find the “volunteers” for its imperial missions) is a paper tiger, no match for a nation in arms—not even a pathetic, misbegotten nation like Iraq.
The hubris-ridden neoconservatives leading America into this costly adventure from which it is unlikely to recover did so without the slightest consideration of the toll it would take on the country’s already stressed and overtaxed institutions. Fighting for objectives that are everywhere challenged and with troops that are not only afraid to die, but have no idea of what they are dying for, the only thing they have actually accomplished is what they set out to combat: For they have inflamed the Middle East, enhanced Islam’s prestige, augmented bin Laden’s ranks, accelerated the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, and turned the whole world against them.
Finally, Faye depicts the NAI as America’s last bloom. Both domestically and internationally, the signs of American decline, he observes, are more and more evident. For all that once distinguished America is now tarnished. Its melting pot no longer assimilates, its mixed-race population is inextricably Balkanized, its state is increasingly maniacal in its anti-white, anti-family, anti-community policies, and its market, the one remaining basis of social integration, is in serious difficulty, burdened by massive trade imbalances, unable to generate industrial jobs, hampered by astronomical debts and deficits, and increasingly dependent on the rest of the world. Even the country’s fabled democracy has ceased to work, with elections decided by the courts, fraudulent polling practices, and a pervasive system of spin and simulacrum. The virtuality of the political process seems, actually, to reflect nothing so much as the increasingly illusory authority of its reigning elites, whose oligarchic disposition and incompetent management necessitates a system of smoke and mirrors.
Internationally, America faces a no less bleak situation. Faye points out that the almighty dollar, for sixty years the world’s reserve currency, is now threatened by the euro (which means the country will soon no longer be able to live on credit); the European Union and Asia’s rising economic colossus are undermining its primacy in world markets; it faces the wrath of a billion Muslims worldwide and does nothing to stem the Muslim immigration to the United States; its occupation of Iraq is causing it to hemorrhage monetarily, morally, and militarily; and, not least, its image and integrity have been so damaged that raw power alone sustains its fragile hegemony.
Unlike the implicit imperialism of the Cold War era, the NAI is openly anti-European. In this vein, it opposes the continent’s political unification; treats its allies, even its British poodle, with contempt; practices a divide and conquer tactic which pits the so-called New Europe against the Old; and pursues a strategic orientation aimed at containing Europe and keeping it dependent on the U.S. security system.
In parallel with this anti-Europeanism, there has developed in Europe what Faye calls an “obsessional and hysterical anti-Americanism” (OHAA). He sees this development as so destructive of Europe’s self-interest that he factitiously suggests that it is probably subsidized by the CIA. For this anti-Americanism bears little relation to earlier forms of French anti-Americanism, which sought to defend France’s High Culture from the subversions of America’s culture industry. Nor are its right-wing proponents firmly in the pale of the “new revolutionary nationalism,” which designates liberalism’s cosmopolitan plutocracy as the chief enemy and resists its denationalization of capital, population, and territory. Instead, this OHAA not only does nothing to advance the European project, its fixation on the NAI inadvertently contributes to the Islamization and Third Worldization of the continent, hastening, in effect, its demise as a civilizational entity.
Touching the government and numerous nationalist tendencies, in addition to the perennially anti-identitarian Left, this OHAA is informed by a simpleminded Manichaeanism, which assumes that America’s enemy (Islam) is Europe’s friend. By this logic, America is depicted as a source of evil and Islam as a possible savior. In effect, these anti-Americans adopt not just Islam’s Manichaean world view, but that of the Judeo-Protestants who make up Bush’s political base. For like the neoconservative publicists and propagandists advising the administration and like the mullahs shepherding their submissive, but fanatical flocks, they too paint the world in black and white terms, the axis of good versus the axis of evil, with the enemy (America or Islam) seen as the source of all evil and our side (America or Islam) as the seat of all virtue.
And just as the liberal/neocon image of America is Hebraic, not Greco-European, these European anti-Americans carry in their demonstrations the flags of Iraq, Palestine, Algeria, and Morocco, shout Allah Akbar, and affirm their solidarity with Islam—all without the slightest affirmation of their own people and culture. This simple-minded Manichaeanism influences not only left-wing immigrationists bent on subverting Europe’s bioculture, but French New Rightists around Alain de Benoist, revolutionary nationalists around Christian Bouchet, traditionalists around the Austrian Martin Schwartz and the Italian Claudio Mutti, and various Eurasianists, as well as many lesser known tendencies. Worse, the politicians catering to this anti-Americanism oppose the NAI less for the sake of Europe’s autonomy than for that of its large Muslim minority. They thus refuse to be an American protectorate, but at the same time display the greatest indifference to the fact that they are rapidly becoming an Islamic-Arabic colony: Eurabia.
The economic and cultural war the United States wages on Europe, Faye stresses, ought to warrant the firmest of European ripostes, but to feel the slightest solidarity with Islam, even when “unjustly” attacked, is simply masochistic—for, if the last 1400 years is any guide, it seeks nothing so much as to conquer and destroy Europe. American plutocratic liberalism may be responsible for fostering transnational labor markets that import millions of Third World immigrants into the white Lebensraum, but if the latter are ignored for the sake of resisting the former, the end result may soon be that there will no Europeans left to defend. (Medically, this would be equivalent to fighting typhoid by ignoring the infectious bacillus assaulting the sufferer and instead concentrating exclusively on eliminating the contaminated food and water that transmit it —in which case the disease would be eradicated, but the patient not live to appreciate it).
The OHAA’s simpleminded politics, Faye argues, ends up not just misconceiving Europe’s enemy, but sanctioning its colonization, including the colonization of its mind. Like the “poor African” who is routinely portrayed as the victim of white colonialism, this sort of anti-Americanism makes the European the victim of U.S. imperialism. As we know from experiences on our side of the Atlantic, such a mentality takes responsibility for nothing and attributes everything it finds objectionable to the white man, in this case the American.
More pathetically still, in designating the United States as an irreconcilable enemy and Islam as a friend, these anti-Americans inadvertently dance to Washington’s own tune. Based on his La colonisation de l’Europe: Discours vrai sur l’immigration et l’Islam (2000) and in reference to Alexander del Valle’s Islamisme et Etats-Unis: Une alliance contre l’Europe (1999), Faye contends that since the early 1980s U.S. policy has aggressively promoted Europe’s Third Worldization—through its ideology of human rights, multiculturalism, and multiracialism, through its unrelenting effort to force the European Union to admit Turkey, but above all through its intervention on behalf of Islam in the Yugoslavian civil war. In all these ways fostering social, religious, cultural, and ethnic divisions that neutralize Europe’s potential threat to its own hegemony, it seeks to subvert European unity.
Looking to the Arab world to counter U.S. imperialism can only lead to national suicide. Those who advocate Europe’s alliance with the Third World are thus for Faye not simply naive, but neurotic. America may be a competitor, an adversary, a culturally distorting force, it may even be the principal international force for liberal cosmopolitanism, but in relation to the ethnocidal threat posed by Islam it is almost entirely innocuous. Europeans can always recover from the deculturation that comes from American domination, but not from the destruction of their genetic heritage, which Islam promises. Faye suggests that this anti-American neurosis, like the classic textbook pathology, designates America as its enemy for fear of acknowledging the danger looming under its very nose. As such, the anti-American Islamophiles refuse to see what’s happening in Europe, whose soft, dispirited white population is increasingly cowed by Islam’s conquering life-force. For however much American policy assaults Europe, it does not constitute the life-and-death danger which the invading Islamic colonizers do. To think otherwise is possible only by ignoring the primacy of race and culture. Instead, then, of pursuing chimerical relations with people whose underlying motive is the destruction of Europe as we know it, it would be wiser, Faye claims, for Europeans to view what’s happening in Iraq as the Chinese and Indians do: with cynical detachment and an eye to their own self-interest.
The greatest danger to Europe, and this idea is the axis around which Faye’s argument revolves, comes from the Islamic lands to the “South,” whose nonwhite immigrants are presently colonizing the continent, assuming control of its biosphere, and altering the foundations of European life. For European nationalists and governments to treat America, with its shallow, provisional power, as the enemy and Islam, with its nonwhite multitudes pressing on Europe’s borders, as its friend is the height of folly.
Not coincidentally, such an anti-Americanism is first cousin to the anti-white sensibility one finds in American liberal and neoconservative ranks. For just as those who try to convince us that America is a “creed,” not a white nation, these anti-Americans allying with Islam to fight the ricains betray their patrie—treating it as an abstraction and not a people. If Americans would be better off using their troops to defend their porous border instead of playing cowboy in Mesopotamia, as we white nationalists believe, Europeans loyal to their heritage would do better, Faye advises, to resist rather than to make common cause with those who are presently invading their lands.
To Faye, there can never be a total rupture between Europe and white America, given the blood bonds linking them. They might pursue divergent interests, over which dispute is inevitable, but the racial and cultural differences separating Europe from the Islamic world are insurmountable. In this spirit, he predicts that “the great clashes of the 21st century will not pit the United States against the rest of the world, but rather the Whitemen of the North against all the other racial-civilizational blocs.”
The culturally noxious effects of the liberal-democratic order of money imposed on Europe after 1945 caused European nationalists to define themselves in opposition not just to American-style liberalism, but to America as a nation. For those nationalists who continue to uphold this line, Third World immigration (which they do not favor) is viewed as an offshoot of a techno-economic system that dismisses biocultural qualities for the quantifying ones of the liberal market.
Only in fighting this system, and its chief sponsor, the United States, will Europe, they believe, be able to defend its heritage and its destiny. The Third World immigrants experiencing the deracination that comes with transnational labor markets cannot, then, be Europe’s enemy, for they too are its victim. Besides, their traditionalist, premodern culture makes them prospective allies in what is seen as a common struggle against America’s “cultureless civilization.”
But even in granting that there is a certain logic—even a certain justice—to this position, it rests upon two false premises, which Guillaume Faye has been almost alone in Europe in polemicizing: 1) that culture trumps race and 2) that race is unrelated, if not irrelevant, to culture.
His Coup d’Etat mondial offers, then, a powerful antidote to this false and potentially fatal reasoning. It demystifies the new American imperialism, revealing its tenuous character. It exposes the self-destructive character of an opposition refusing to recognize Europe’s real enemy. And, most important, in designating this enemy—the nonwhite colonizers who hope to turn Europe into a dar-al-Islam—it designates what is the single, most unavoidable, and absolutely necessary duty of white people everywhere: the defense of their homelands.
Source: TOQ, vol. 5, no. 3 (Summer 2005)
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2024.05.04 04:16 Striking-Cap-1202 Memoirs of a rotten beginning

Here is some of my story, to help understand what I suffer from? A dr asked if there was anything I could think of that could have caused my depression. I said no, but here are some of my life memories that may have had a play in it. I'm sure many things played a part in my down coming, but I think it only fueled something already broken inside me.
4-5yrs old. My earliest memories.
I heard an adult male voice that would yell at me, very angry, very loud at night when I would use the bathroom. HURRY UP, FASTER, NOW, GO!!! it would rush me.
I seen shadow figures dart down the hallways.
My mom and dad would scream behind closed doors, almost as if mom was screaming for help, but all I could do was beat on the door.
I was thrown outside into the dark night alone and would scream and cry from fear. We had people break into our home through my window while I slept. You can imagine my fear as I stood alone shaking in fear of the unkown outside.
I remember "floating" off of a curb in front of the house.
One night watching tv alone I heard a noise behind the couch, a gremlin like creature jumped out at me when I looked to see, I ran screaming!!! True stroy :/
My parents got a divorce.
I sat on the couch alone with my dad as he loaded his handgun, cocked it, and pointed it to his temple. I begged and cried for him not to do it! He pulled the trigger as I held his arm. It clicked, a dud.
I don't really remember having any emotions other than pain I guess.
I remember being told we were going to Disney world and I was like, ok, and someone saying they've never seen a kid act so calm about something so exciting. I remembered that, and thought a lot about it, what did they mean?
I had strange thoughts too, like adults would cut their legs off by shutting their car doors when entering the vehicle . . . Me sitting behind unable to see what was really happening. I knew better though.
I started school, I remember watching and learning how my peers around me acted and I started to mimic their behaviors.
I began masking my own emotions with being happy and acting crazy because I seen it made people laugh and happy.
2nd grade i already felt guilty all the time and anxious. Someone else in trouble, why do I feel guilty?
I remember learning I was color blind and the teacher basically humiliated me by saying, will someone please help Cory pick out the correct colored crayons, clearly annoyed. I got even smaller, helpless, unable to help myself.
By the time I hit 4th grade, my thoughts were non stop, I couldn't focus, and I didn't see the point of even trying . . . Why, what is the point??? I've absorbed so much already I also thought school was basically useless in the long run. My grades began to rapidly decline because I didn't care anymore. I did continue to learn, I just chose not to do the work.
I always had horrible thoughts, I continued to mask my emotions despite being in constant despair.
I always feared something bad would happen to my dad, a car wreck, ect, losing him. I missed him dearly. My weekend visits every 2 weeks only fueled my worries.
I had a lot of trouble falling asleep, I would cry in fear I would turn into a serial killer while I slept.
I was always super anxious when needing anything, so I tried my hardest to cover up anything I could to keep from needing help.
I couldn't handle the thoughts anymore. The pain. I always wanted something bad to happen to me so someone would care, like I wished I would die. So by 10, I balled my eyes out in my backyard alone, untieing my tire swing, I climb the pine tree a good ways up, tied a slipknot in the rope, placed it around my neck, looked at the ground below and just gave up, I jumped! Luckily, I was so distraught I didn't measure the length of the rope and I hit the ground. Nobody knew.
I was accused of being on drugs a few times, what are drugs?
I started to try out smoking cigarettes.
I refused to wear shorts because people would question my birth mark, is someone beating you??? More unwanted negativity, I just want to disappear.
5th grade the bullies start, I was stabbed with pencils 2 times, and constantly attacked behind the scenes. Nobody knew. I refused to seek help.
D.A.R.E. came and taught us all about the wonderful world of drugs and how good they can make you feel, and how illegal and dangerous some can be. Hmmmm.
7th grade nothing has changed, still struggling with who I am and why I even exist.
I discovered, sex, drugs, and alcohol in 7th grade. Started with pills, then weed, sex and alcohol.
14 years old, we've moved a few times by now, I don't have any life long friends, but anyone I met eventually referred to me as an alien. I remember that nickname since like 4th grade. Different people, still an alien. I did manage to use drugs to elevate my mood, and I made new friends. I didn't have friends. Just drug addicted teens and bullies.
I flunked 7th grade, not because I was stupid or didn't know how, but what is the point? My lowest grade was a 27%.
The schools appointed me with a school counselor, needless to say, by the end of that year, she told me she was going to quit, she has never had a child fail so badly under her care.
Life went on, got more serious, more complicated, 17 my stepdad kicked me out. I continued to mask my life away, hiding behind a false smile. Still moving, still plagued by suicidal thoughts, anxiety. Bullying continued till I dropped out of school the day I turned 18 and immediately got my G.E.D. My stepmom kicked me out.
I got arrested, 13xs and 14 driving suspensions during an endless 10+ year cycle. Currently no probation, and I have a license.
Relationships always ended with me being cheated on, despite my kindness, trust no one, more fuel for my distrust.
People still try to hurt me for no reason, I even have titanium in my jaw from being sucker punched by someone I don't have any connection with. I just happened to be there. More pointless pain. I've kind of become a warrior of injustices I see around me. I am easily triggered and I will jump to someone's defense in a heart beat.
The pain never ended, I kept pushing, people do care, I don't want them to hurt for me.
30+ years I learned to cope somehow, experimenting with many different drugs. Some worked, but most had negative side effects. I can tell you in pretty good detail lol I did manage to quit EVERYTHING except weed and cigs, on my own.
I had nothing left, fresh out of jail, ready for change, I found her, I met my wife to be. I still struggle with my racing thoughts, and depression, but my beautiful wife has helped me become something more than I ever was, a better father, a husband.
I still struggle with emotions and racing thoughts. Zoom zoom.
Tiktok has made me aware of many things I didn't realize weren't normal feelings or behavior, I've saved them.
My love language is mental and physical intimacy, words of affirmation, kindness, hugs, kisses, feeling the other person close, making love, a mutually agreed upon ritual of love only between the 2. I smother my poor wife, I know I do, I don't mean to, I crave that close human contact. I understand she needs the space sometimes, I get it, I can become overwhelming im sure, still hurts for some reason though despite knowing people need some space sometimes. My thoughts are always racing.
Most doctors have automatically labeled me a drug seeker due to self medicating the pain away with marijuana, even though I've asked for help, That's fine, I don't want drugs to get high, I just want to feel better. If I wanted to get high I would just hit up the sobo clinics using my insurance.
Here I am, a broken man, mended together by my wife's love, can I be fixed? This is what has shaped me. I'm sure there is more, I've mentally removed, or forgot to list because I have sooooo many persistent internal thoughts, but I did notice that speed, like adderal, i can stop thinking, silence my racing thoughts, and my heart rate drops to like 50 bpm, instead of 90-100bpm, but the side effects I hate, it gives me E.D. although, I'm sure my wife probably wouldn't mind that part at all, haha.
Like I said, im probably still labeled a drug seeker, so what's a depressed man who refuses to admit he is broken to do? Contine to mask it, and try to fix it himself?
I'm a 38 y/o male, btw. Ha, still undiagnosed :P
submitted by Striking-Cap-1202 to depression [link] [comments]


2024.05.04 03:49 taiyuan41 Napalm

As Napalm
It felt frustrating in Chongqing. I was rather stuck in Hechuan. I got accustomed to lajiao (spice) there. I was a Midwesterner at the age of 22. I was raised in Illinois. I became a manic—a Ferris wheel on fire—I was hiding under a bed in a hotel. Bold like napalm. Sometimes I can never stop. Even when I was 18 in a ward arguing with staff. Always want to fight things. That’s why I refused the meds and went on a plane from America to China. I was going to be an English teacher. And like a light switch, the change and SSRIs turned me into a mess. It would be my first time experiencing psychosis. My biggest issue. I never imagined I would be stuck illegally in a country suffering a psychotic episode in my early twenties.
Transplanted as pollen. I was left with a backpack and a cellphone. With a downloaded app called WeChat. I had arrogantly quit a university job in a fit. Spent the past months full of energy and not sleeping and neglecting myself, including not eating, to work on a novel. Not considering myself normally religious, I had obsessed over occult ideas during that time. Spending nights reading Aleister Crowley—haven taken a rusty pocket knife to carve a pentagram on my chest for spiritual protection.
I did not have funds to fly home. My visa was connected to my previous job, which meant I had now made it void. I was an illegal resident now in China.
I used a nifty app called WeChat as a messaging app, it allows users to find people near them that are also looking for others. It was like a virtual pond. All kinds of people, including sex workers trying to make things happen.
It could with luck be used to find people looking for people in terms of other kinds of work. It was helpful on many occasions for finding gigs working at English training schools and also finding work as a private tutor for people.
WeChat also works as a digital wallet.
Mania makes me irritable. Enough to tell a boss to fuck off. Thoughts ricochet within me. Bumper cars collide.
Being stuck and angry sucks. I scrolled and scrolled on a Huawei phone.
Absolutely pissed off at this world.
Pissed at the times police wanted to take me away for being a mess.
Sometimes women get pissed. Scrolling through their phones. Angry at their cheating husbands. It really is not that hard to have flair—be a damn white oddity. Like moths to a porchlight. Particles of sand through hands. This is when I first started the habit of it…
I rather go by a rather empty name of Taishen… with further explanation needed but now is not convenient. But I assure it is interesting enough and has some importance.
Habits are various in nature in how they attach to and eat at marrow—like atom bombs flashing as rays evaporating DNA—sets in a way less than human as putting myself in the cage of bad things taken up—my time as a former heroin addict is left as stretch marks on me in various ways. The same goes for the first time I found myself making arrangements with middle aged married women while desperation of waves whiplashed me like sandpaper hands coming at me to leave me in a tiring state of abrasion.
I had spent a night snuck away into a hotel. Found someone on a business trip. Instead of registering I waited to sneak along into the hotel elevator amongst a group of others attending the hotel, as I had no card. I headed to a designated room number. Originally I was sitting in a park. Playing on WeChat and found someone in their mid-thirties. Pictures were exchanged and I said no. She brought up paying for the hotel if I arrived. I agreed and went along.
When I met I washed up after her and we used our phones to awkwardly translate what we would do.
Room service knocked. I found myself hidden under a bed as I was not registered to be there.
It seems unusual that it was around this time I had started working on a story of my life as a heroin addict when I got caught up in my worse manic episode ever experienced during my age of 22. Finished half that story before never going back to it after my manic episode had ended. Now I am here writing about it and wondering if the same can happen again in the process of this work.
It feels extremely cliché I would write a novel about struggles with heroin addiction. It has been done many times. It’s just lame of me.
I feel like my thoughts are bit off. I left the hotel the next morning with the little money I did have on a debit card. Turns out the woman was from Taiyuan. It is a city in the northern part of China in the province of Shanxi—coal country with the worst air pollution in China. She has a colleague in Taiyuan that takes courses at an English training center. I was able to contact this place in the morning via a shared contact on WeChat given to me by the stranger I met that night.
Before I knew it I was sending my information and documents in my backpack at an internet café in a fax—with the intent that the woman agreed to share my information to the training center as she shared my contact to its hiring manager. It would land me a job that day that would help me out of my situation. Things turned not quite out as I expected though. I was shifted like a ball to somebody else to contact for a training center geared to teaching children.
I took what I had and ran off to a train station after taking the public transit. Unfortunately I was shit for money and could not afford a high speed rail pass. The slow train would take thirty-two hours to get to my destination. I would have taken a room with a bed but all I could afford was a hard seat for the travel.
Things were getting better for me in the circumstance considering I had found someone willing to take me for work despite my visa situation.
The thirty-two hour train ride was horrendous in some ways, but mostly I was in excitement despite the circumstances. I’m always giddy when disappointed. I moved up and down the aisle of the train. I could not speak mandarin, but it did not stop me from trying to interact with everyone. I talked many ears off during the train ride. I went up and down the aisle trying to interact as a moth to porchlights—I could not stop even if I had wanted to. I found great enjoyment the times I did get to sit across a table from somebody my age heading to Taiyuan from Chongqing. They were a university student returning to their hometown. Another passenger who sat beside me was an elderly man with hard boiled eggs, he was eating one after another one. I highly enjoyed each and every conversation that I had. It was like my head was a lightbulb wanting June bugs to bang against it with the intensity of Roman candles shot at my mouth of nicotine tinged teeth.
“If you find someone in Shanxi it is practice to pay the family money before you can get married. You would also have to already own a home and a car,” told my new friend across in their seat from me—a university passenger friend named David.
“Not necessarily what I was looking for. When is the next stop for snacks?” When the train stops I am able to get out and to have a walk onto the platform to buy various goods from the vendors to take back with me to eat along the ride to Taiyuan.
I had all my important documents tucked in my bag. This included my health clearance and obviously I made no mention of my mental health diagnosis or history to the doctor who had to evaluate me. My diploma and TEFL certificate were tucked away securely. A TEFL is a certificate that stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language, it qualifies me to teach English as a second language abroad—it had only took a few months of taking a course online that I had paid for to obtain.
It is easy to be happy when you can trick yourself as your own con artist. Mania can make you deceive yourself. One can be doused in napalm and still not fully recognize what is actually going on. Same goes the flicking of psychosis. Even when I have nothing I find myself in my radiating irritation the most qualified of things—the velocity of my rhythm sets me out of an orbit.
The pressure cooker keeps me moving like a propeller at times. I finally arrived at Taiyuan. I arrived at the station to be greeted by Ryan my manager and his assistant Jennifer. We had our hello and introduction and they helped me get to a taxi that would bring me to my new apartment. I finally had a residence again. Apparently they were desperate for a teacher. The last teacher was from New Mexico and apparently they pulled a midnight run—that is when a teacher in the middle of the night disappears onto a plane back home without any notification of it.
The apartment was okay. On the fourth floor with no elevator, so it was a bit of a climb up a dark stairwell not lit correctly.
My job was a training center that had a location near Yingze Park in the center of the city. I was to be paid in cash via envelopes. I would assist in teaching kindergarten all the way up to high school aged students there in private lessons paid by their parents. I would also be assigned by my company to various primary schools in the city. I would take public buses to various schools paid by the company I worked for to give English lessons as I bounced around to various classrooms and schools in the city. Often I would receive a phone call to avoid going to work that day if my boss got inside input that officials would be doing raids to check foreigners’ visas that day.
A taxi ride would always be a thrill. Caused me nerves at first, but I came to love the flying in dangerous ways along a busy road. I remember a driver beeping their horn away as they drove onto the sidewalk to pass people. They treated the pedestrians as if they were in the wrong. I came flying in front of a primary school at its front gates. I was going to start teaching a first grade classroom and a kindergarten classroom. The way schools are set up is with a wall around the entirety of the exterior of the school. There is a gate at the front where one or two security will be waiting to let people in and out of the complex of the school.
I walked in front of the gate to greet the security. It was my first time with an assignment at this school. The guard said they had never seen me before and wouldn’t let me in. Not a big nuisance while I called my boss who then called the school to sort out the situation.
I miss the classroom so much. I ended up teaching in China for five years at various training schools. After returning to Illinois, I still taught as a primary school teacher in a public school.
I often feel extremely ugly from inside to my outside, but something is attractive there. This does not come just in terms of flirting and relationships—mania makes me a genuine lightbulb that flickers in a way that encourages the insects to me—everyone looks like a June bug—this is what I have come to understand about life. But that ugly does kind of stay like rot in a cavity that leaves a bad taste in the mouth that smells foul—hoping nobody catches the smell near me—it must tie into my struggles with bulimia over the years.
The same goes for my years as a teacher—in relation to the whole lightbulb phenomenon—I’m positive it is tied to mania and hypomania. The younger students always were fixated on the information I was teaching to them. I kept over the years methods taught to me and self-taught that I found extremely effective with younger students when it comes to teaching.
Everything was physical in learning in terms of intensity and ambition. When teaching my first grade classroom I would create flashcards for the vocab we would work on and implement in creating new sentences with. We would chant these words together in a way that made me a clown while teaching. Students would yell out the word that I presented with intense enthusiasm. As I walked by students it was expected that while they yelled out the word they would also physically hit the card. Later I would also work on physical gestures and acting out of vocab words and they would follow the actions and phrases with me.
I would often eventually turn the class into two teams. When students got an answer right I would behave comically and full of energy—I would give them a high five and pretend they were so strong with it that it hurt my hand in the process with much exaggeration—the students always seemed to never get tired of this act.
One game I would play involved drawing two stick figures with happy faces on them. Each figure would represent one of the teams for the classroom. I would draw a hungry alligator under the figures. Their faces would also be comical in appearance and full of exaggerations. Each figure had a parachute placed over them and four strings attached. During the game the students would race to say the word correctly represented on the flashcard or the correct word for the gesture I was making. The team that was not the slowest would lose a string on the parachute. If a team lost all four strings they would fall to the alligator who would eat them. The students found it hilarious with my actions involved in it. I would also draw tears and a person praying to represent anticipation and worry of falling down each time they lost a string.
I had a tooth game too. I would draw too large faces for each team. The team that could answer the flashcards and gestures the quickest would have a tooth drawn in their mouth. The team with the most teeth would win and it would look rather funny as the mouth grew and grew with an abnormal and extreme amount of teeth.
I often did other physical and interactive games like having students run to the word I showed a card to or gestured—each word would be attached to a point in the classroom on a wall.
I know it sounds grandiose, but the parents always seemed to think I was great at my job.
The word vulnerable means so many things to me. That word is like the coal to form the generator that makes the guiding energy for the ethics I follow in my life—I hold very strongly to these values that have developed on how to live—I can express it more later but I greatly attach a kind of Christian value system to it, which makes sense considering I was raised in a Lutheran household and always went to church, Sunday school, and went to my courses and went through my confirmation—everyone is a bit of a mop—some pick up clean water and others dirty or a mix of it—waiting to find the people to drain them voluntarily or involuntarily. I was born vulnerable. I walk pigeon-toed and grew up tripping on my feet—I speak with a soft feminine voice. Bipolar disorder makes somebody vulnerable. There was much vulnerability in being eighteen and hospitalized involuntarily for my first manic episode—tied to a stretcher. I have almost a sense of us vs them—the vulnerable and those that harm the vulnerable—take advantage of the vulnerable—I feel this is a very much Christian in the idea of the unfortunate are more holy than the rest of the bunch—children are like that in terms of being born into a cruel existence—a cruel existence I felt at times in my life and so many do—making sure harm does not come to those in need gives the light of purpose to go bright inside like a Christmas tree in my brain—this light of happiness and warmth. I never expected I would fall in love for teaching due to the antidepressant effect provided. It would become my career for a decade. Some grow up wanting to be a teacher, I became one by accident, desperation, and being saved.
Sometimes I inflate on self-hate like a helium balloon that needs to be tied to a wrist. The vulnerability equation is imprinted on my brain.
In my early teens I started struggling with bulimia and image. I remember when my mother caught me in the act. I was not offered help but criticized. I was called a girl for my problems and threatened to be taken somewhere to be fixed of my confusion. I don’t identify as transgender. I identify as a man that struggles with bulimia and happens to have feminine qualities.
I attribute it to circumstances that happened to me—a justification for the pain at times—an attack on aspects of bisexuality.
After a long day of work I did what my young self often did. I went clubbing with friends. I feel like even if I hide aspects of myself such as being bisexual, people can spot it regardless. I’m extremely secretive about it and not comfortable displaying that vulnerable aspect of myself.
My friend from England went with me. He was about six years my senior. Big guy. Tall. The clubs name was Maoye.
I always enjoyed the free drinks available to foreigners—it was done to attract Chinese clients, as the idea was foreigners being there would attract people.
Amongst the hot and sweltering crowd a man grabbed ahold of me. I felt stuck. I was taken off guard. Pushed and cornered. While on me I managed to push him off. But it all serves as a reminder of the vulnerability of my life.
A nail was placed into my hand—a constant burn and reminder of that vulnerability.
Part 2
From self-hate I can also be so grandiose. I am like a Christmas tree that is lit up. Sparklers so pretty that you cannot let go of them, even if it burns your fingertips and hurts.
From heroin to sex, you can smother the pain. You drain the ocean to fill a void in these times. It ties to mania as well. That restlessness and irritability is extinguished by the paradox of throwing kerosene to everything burning. I’m so grandiose to hide my insecurities, I mistake my misfortune as a mark of something ugly virtuous—the neon of vulnerability pulsating like a star within me. Swelling on a pain.
Bad habits. I want you to judge me and tell me what’s wrong with me. Give me a verdict.
Stress a trigger for mania, and I was stressed from the incident I had experienced at the club. I bloated like a tick to distract from locusts of thoughts that could not shut up with their commotion.
I had been sleeping around more than before. My brain was Christmas tree lights. I accelerated on a generator—I made a mixed episode worse.
Tease a disaster when you are heightened like a blimp. Full of hydrogen. Hoping to burn up ad rain down like napalm.
When the pretty candles on the Christmas tree are left untouched—not looked at like a kettle on burner that has been forgotten—the dry neglected tree will into a house fire.
I’ve had four attempts in my life so far.
When I attempt I don’t cry for help. I feel too vulnerable. I’m afraid.
Hate police and wards.
Downing pills.
My past failed attempts made me aware of everything done wrong before. The sleeping pills alone might not do what I was looking for at that time. I bought an electrical cable. This way if it failed I would still be unconscious and choked out by the cord—fail safe plan to end my life.
The words coming out of my mouth slowed down. I started getting second thoughts. Stuck my face towards the toilet bowl while on my knees. Sticking my fingers down my throat. Leaving blood vessels bursting in my eyes.
Went stumbling outside and waved a taxi down and asked to be taken to the local hospital.
Never expected finding myself checked into a psych ward in a foreign country.
Nietzsche has a quote in reference to chaos in life and how it is needed to create a star—this reference holds so much value to me. Sometimes stars hit together just right to create fate out of the worst of things. The ward lead me to meet the woman made of paper. She would one day become my wife. I would have two daughters with her. Forge together as soldiers to face the obstacles in life. Someone who would save my life during a future attempt when I was found unconscious from an overdose. The smartest and toughest woman I have ever known. Someone to build trenches with.
I liked it when she stuck that needle in me for an IV. It must correlate to being a heroin addict. The pushing of something in my vein correlates to happiness and purity.
The woman made out of paper was my nurse in the ward I was stuck in. What attracted her to the mess that is me I will never understand fully.
The woman made out of paper is named Lilu. She was one year older than me and one of my nurses at that ward in Taiyuan. She was from Zhengzhou—a city in the province of Henan that is based in the center of China. I am sure as the reader it would be nice to know why I call her the woman made of paper.
She struggled with her own demons. She also deserves much praise for her resilience and brains. When she was born she was raised by a family that adopted her and often neglected and abused her growing up. Her biological family is distant from her, even though she has an identical twin—they felt too poor to take care of her and made the choice that they needed to be less of one child as she also has an older sister—her twin got to stay with that family but she was given up and adopted. I am sure this must bother her even if she never will talk about it to anyone in her life—as she is one to refuse ever discussing emotions and feelings, as this is not her personality type—she is very much a fighter. I think most would struggle with wondering why they were the one let go of—it also must hurt her knowing that the family would have a son and keep him.
Despite all these circumstances, she graduated top of her class of four thousand students—Chinese high schools can be quite large serving a large region—they often serve as boarding schools. She was a smart and hardworking student. Circumstances never made her stop trying to be the best and moving forward and she never made excuses for herself. In university she also did well and got accepted at the most studious and hard to obtain nursing position at the number one hospital in Shanxi.
I have already ranted and gone on about my affection and feelings tied to heroin. Drinking of entire oceans to fill voids.
Paper is a void. It asks for calligraphy to be written on it to make braille. This way when fingers run over skin, it tells worth—the reason for troubles—it forms connection through those words of declaration—the whining for why things are the way they are—the filling of a void like a heroin addict needing a cure—two papers come together to write upon one another—as a paper I am her typo—I stand as a falling mess with nerves like tripwire, I keep failing and losing my composer, while she stands stronger as a declaration that has been written on—when I was chased I listened to her and joined as one. I wish and intend to always serve the woman made out of paper who has saved my life and has always been there for me, being so strong despite circumstances—amongst the wind of turmoil in life I follow along her path.
It was love at first sight for her but not for me. I had no interest in dating her at the time. I worked across the street of that hospital in an office building for a training center as a part time job. I would teach adults English who paid for private lessons near to Yingze park in the center of Taiyuan. She signed up for classes for me to teach her and brought me food on almost every other day that she had prepared. Eventually we found ourselves coupled fully.
In a pit. I get to burn as paper amongst another’s paper. Eternally. With a life that will keep reoccurring.
Part 3 Liu
A woman like Chang’e lived on a moon. Far away.
You can refer to me as Liu.
At the age of 19 I was diagnosed with a severe nerve pain condition. It is called trigeminal neuralgia but you can call it TN for ease.
I was frustrated. I had completed a degree in international finances from Chongqing University of Business and Technology. The boom of the economy was not the same. There was an urge to “lay flat”—to not try as a form of opposition to everything going on in a waning economy in China.
All are elephants chained for an audience. People love to peek and stare as though they are glass doors without hinges—to be made feel useless.
I developed TN at the age of 19, and was now 22. It came as an arrow, and quite literally to the face. It’s a rare nerve pain disorder often considered one of the most painful conditions known.
The illness involves intense nerve pain throughout the left side of my face. It felt like someone was trying to pull all of the teeth on the left side of my face without anesthesia. The pain can leave me falling to the floor unable to speak or move while screaming profanities while choked by pain. A feeling of a knife to my face over and over again. It leaves me in absolute shock. Like Roman candles to the face. An absolute hindrance. The anticipation of not knowing when it will happen again is a nightmare at times.
The disease is often called the suicide disease, apparently up to 26% try to take their lives. In a state of panic during one of the nerve attacks I began swallowing any pill near to me. I went to the hospital to have my stomach pumped when I was found comatose by my mother.
I want to be Chang’e and on the moon and away from a world I have had enough of.
Gossip spread around the workplace that I attempted suicide over an affair with a married man. There was too much guilt to return to the workplace. COVID did have an impact to the economy. I still remember my hometown having dirt and trees piled onto the exits and entrances to the city keep people in their places.
The work I did find felt beneath me. China has what is called the great firewall that keeps something in and out of the country’s networks. A VPN was necessary to access American TikTok as it was used as opposed to the Chinese version.
Feels humiliating the nature of the outcome for me—I gave up in many ways like so many Chinese youth. For work I would go to a local office building. Amongst a long hall would be a room for live stream performers. I would entertain with watchers while trying to obtain virtual gifts for actual money. I despised it—sometimes the conversation could be funny or interesting but it felt hollow.
I would paint flowers on my face and wear hanfu clothing while doing ASMR.
I had a mind of sparklers burning until it burnt and stung like wax—like I had the option to stop and cry and those tears stuck as wax and burnt or I soldiered on and grew accustomed to the pain. I was an elephant chained. The audience watched and interacted with me on the live. I was a chained elephant when it was found out about my previous attempt and when the rumors spread.
Too many thorns in life. Nails hitting at the wrong points like an equation for something terrible to eventually happen.
My favorite dish was Henan noodles. I often cooked it with my mom. It provides great memories of childhood. I hadn’t talked to my mother as much as before. She moved to a job in Taiyuan.
Sometimes I would go up to visit her. But it was harder as she worked more and more hours. Sometimes voids build even when going through extreme nerve pain. And with trigeminal neuralgia, the pain was so intense that I would freeze and scream in pain. It cannot always be hid. It made me an elephant tethered.
Life can be like a pressure like no other. Too much stress. Makes one feel irritable with a mouth like a sprinkler of napalm when someone is too close. Life feels like a lit fire cracker held—in the end it would tear my hand up. Things kept building while the other side of my face began to hurt too recently. This was rare and not so common. My eyesight was becoming blurry too and it seemed I might have multiple sclerosis as the pain was on both side, it was not common for my age, and the blurry eyesight. An appointment was scheduled and I felt terrified to know what was going on and wondered if it was best to not even know my health.
I walked out of the studio and had a cigarette. My boss came out and joined to talk. He was concerned about view count and wanted me to do things to increase it that made me feel uncomfortable. He made a few comments I found incentive.
The boss sure liked to criticize and apply pressure. He was not impressed with my work and thought I could do something different. In China an application is used called WeChat. This application has many uses. People can display and share moments like a Facebook wall, message each other, send money, video chat, and even has a feature to find people near to you who are also looking for people near to them. I was to attract people onto dates. The idea was they would be lured in and the men would go to a set destination to a planned tea house that served snacks. When the men arrived (they had no knowledge of the setup) the bill would be at an absurd rate and if the men refused to pay larger men would use their size to force them to pay up.
I was not sure at the time yet if I wanted the job. Being worried about ethics and safety. It was something I would have to think about.
My medical expenses were growing and I knew the nerve disease could be expensive to treat with surgery. All I had was thoughts while looking at the moon.
Part 4 Taishen
My former roommate in the ward I shared a room with had paranoid schizophrenia. I was stuck in the same place due to mania, and just had gotten my diagnosis of bipolar disorder.
I was so pissed being stuck there and felt I had no business being there. I found my diagnosis to be an insult to me. I was only 18 at the time—taken in on a stretcher. Made me feel very vulnerable and irritated.
My roommate was having delusions related to Christianity and could not stop waking me up in the middle of the night to ask and talk about Jesus. Left me beyond frustrated.
He was drifting from his wife and would go on and on about intending to leave her. Felt he was spied and plotted against by her. So we were both frustrated with being there.
The toilets were special. They would flush what needed to be flushed but not certain things like pills—it helped to keep people from hiding they were not taking their medications.
He had tried to flush his wedding ring down the toilet but he did not realized it didn’t flush. I went to use the restroom later and saw the ring. I told him. He took it out. He found it to be a sign form God that he is to stay with his wife, and there was immense happiness in his eyes.
Part 5 Liu
I’m a missile from Zhengzhou
Where my face is printed with flowers
Left university with hope
A blimp
To be ripped
Abrasion and termites
Eat me whole until I undo
Caught to the wires around me
Laying flat
Hoping for something new.
My name is Michelle. I had been at the local foreigner bar. I was raided in Zhengzhou. I lost my job recently. I’m 22 and wanted to work in business, but it will not do. Lost
Now I was working at a TikTok farm. I’m a busy ant.
I can’t remember much. My anti-convulsion meds make my mind feel muddy. I spend nights playing with my tarot cards wondering what I got to do to get to a place better.
Driving me crazy taking meds because my face started to hurt me. Feels like a bolt to my face—absolute torture!—suicide disease—that is what the doctors told me.
So I had an attempt and all my coworkers thought I had an affair.
All the gossip was like blitzkrieg so I ran away—I quit. And I need to make money because I’m sick and don’t want the nerve pain. Hoping surgery can save me. So I found myself working making money on live streams doing ASMR. I put on beautiful hanfu and paint flowers on my face. I’m waiting for gifts. But my boss hates me. Maybe because I don’t fit the picture. It’s not in my character to lay flat.
I speak English fluently. So my boss thinks I’m perfect for something new. I go on WeChat waiting for strangers to go on the social app looking for affairs. Foreigners that are easy to pull likes moths to lights. I flirt with them. Ask them to me in the middle of the night. We go to predestined positions. Guys thinking they are getting something that night. A couple larger men come to force the unexpected men to pay an astronomical bill that is not just for the snacks served.
This became my routine. But onetime it really bad. A Canadian I met in the street did not act right. He appeared to be bouncing and deranged. Like he was on some kind of upper. Offered me white powder. My sensors went off. I’m a missile. I know when something is off. Ready to do what I have to. He came close. I shoved him. I was near the location for the setup. My colleagues heard the commotion. Hands went. The crazed Canadian fell to the ground and never woke up again. Not knowing what to do. I went off like a missile and ran. The fear…
Part 6
I thought of it as I got lost. I’m a butterfly from Zhengzhou. From the center of Henan in China. I float off. Cause I’m stuck. No symmetry in my fate. Came under the ground as a Cicada. Went looking for something great but I’m not far. Just stuck, like a sun that won’t rise up. Call me Liu.
I developed the suicide disease when I was 19. It leaves my facing in tremendous pain on the left side. Makes me fall down and want to die. 26% will commit suicide. I often painted flowers on the side to grant some beauty to what happens to me. This disease caused all my teeth, gums, and entire left side to turn to intense electrical stabbing pain. There would be no warning before an attack. Paranoia of not knowing when the next one will come.
Had a decent job that seemed to be fit and good for me. The attacks brought me to my knees and made me eat carpet. Brought me to a frantic spell that caused me to overdose. Rumors spread at work that it was due to shame I had for having an affair with a married man.
I left the career devastated. I was shamed out of it.
I had temporarily found myself stranded into a career on a TikTok farm in Zhengzhou performing ASMR.
I was transplanted to a new career after a horrible incident. I had ran off to Guangzhou to where my cousin lives.
I want symmetry in my life. There is none. Just instability and pain.
Do you believe in the transplantation of thoughts? I do.
Do you believe in the transplanting of thoughts? I do. Learned about it before in a book. My friend beside me nodded after having taken their fentanyl based medicine earlier. Tiring doing odd jobs to pull off getting ahold of things.
I walked by and entered my workplace. I walked into the studio that was based in Guangzhou. I was handed my flyers. I headed to the street and began passing them out to advertise for a local KTV with women wearing little to no clothing on them.
A man walked by on the sidewalk. Some man looked like someone I must know before. Ever ad that feeling? But I could not know for sure or remember exactly. I awkwardly stared him up and down.
The man I had a hard time recognizing started to feel all too familiar. It was like I could read his thoughts. I have a projector head. Sometimes I can see everything. I feel it like rays of the sun on my skin—so natural and calling. Like Chang’e on the moon so far away looking down on a lover she misses—this man was sending radio signal signals from his marrow. A special type of attraction. Need attention like the world has been cruel to me. A world that has abandoned me.
The books were right that I had been reading. He must of noticing my odd staring. He took a flyer from me. Stumbled a bit while trying to understand what was going on. I pointed at the establishment I worked and told him he should visit. He gave a smile before departing it. I’m sure heaven can talk—gave orders to lift the anchors to provide transportation to a new fate.
It was exciting to know I might get to meet him, but I had concerns. In the evening I would work within the KTV. Depending on the occasion I would sometimes get to dress in hanfu, which I enjoyed. I sometimes search for distraction as there is something wrong with the way my thoughts transfer. When you live a life under threats and violence—feelings of being trapped in life—you naturally see people with masks. They either pose a threat or are safe and you must view them in black and white. There is no time to see things in grey—too much danger in doing that. I must have a negative perspective on the world around me like a cocoon to stay safe. Like a butterfly I go to faces to see if they bite or have pollen. I believe the man today had pollen. I truly can read minds.
Part 7
Black and white thinking originates like an atom bomb. It tears a mind into a black hole of horrible events. Leaves craters like hole as cheese in the brain—provides the surface to create something that absorbs like a sponge. Pain that radiates through to create the velocity of irritated atomic steam engine that can send signals out. It burns. Cheese head with holes right through like a particle accelerator went right through. Fox holes in the brain when it feels in danger. A life of a perpetual civil war. It is painful.
Such thinking with holes causes one to be prone to have memories fall through black holes and be forgotten. Never can be found. Blanks.
The man that thoughts transpired to earlier in the day went by the name of Muchen. It was like seppuku in attraction. Fusion. We met at the designated room he had gotten with his friends to rent out to have there to host. Drinks are bought as a form of payment. Transplanting of thoughts wears the brain like sandpaper waves of abrasion.
I don't trust you as the reader. You been holding for a long time And I feel attachment with you that makes me very unsafe. I don’t trust you anymore. I rather you stop putting eyes on me. It makes me run off very fast. I’m uncomfortable. The most benign things come across as dangerous to me. And I want you to step away.
Part 8
I like this man I met. He makes me whole. He is the light for everything dark around me. My boss made me feel what I never felt before. He is so nice! Not like the other guys who talk with words that split my insides. I can do the same. Like a cycle hate goes around in love.
He get so lonely at night. But I have the right company.
I’m feeling so nice
Everything just so happy
Tapping away on my phone
Writing poetry
Because my heart grows
Swell like a balloon
Don’t you want to pop it?
Simmer
Like acne to pop.
I kept writing poetry about my feelings of this man. I could not get him out of my head. The strength of transplanted thoughts. I keep going forever. Like a phony I feel. My boss was the man I transplanted thoughts with. He worked at a local host club. For where women and gay men could go and pay drinks for male hosts to sit with them and keep them feeling loved and entertained. I fused to him like atoms in the sun. He was a host at this club. I would host at my location and meet him. We were each other’s. Eating ourselves together.
to be continued..
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2024.05.02 13:11 AlderMache I am regularly developing irrational thoughts and anxiety about my life goals.

Hi! I am male, 23 y.o., studying chemistry at college. Over the past several years, I had been having different primary life goals.
-Best in sports -Trying to solve my scoliosis (still a source of pain, but I can function quite well now) -Best in bodybuilding => And now, best in chemistry...
The point is whatever is my priority, I am anxious about avoiding everything that may interfere with it. That is normal, but I am getting WAY MORE irrational thoughts than you might think. E.g. body building => I must not sniff secondary cigarette smoke since it will kill my gains, I must not EVEN FEEL cold since that kills gains.... pretty damn ridicilous, right?
And now with the chemistry: I have to sleep 9 hours or my brain will get stupid, I can't listen to music since that will delete my chemistry knowledge... Also extremely weird and irrational. What is the best way how to get my life on track and not waste my time thinking about how to avoid theoreticall dangers? Thanks a lot! And have a nice day.
submitted by AlderMache to Anxiety [link] [comments]


2024.04.30 19:38 Bluny_Cass AITAH for asking my therapist to call CPS so I can get away from my mum, and when getting away cutting ties with her?

Just a lil info, I already posted this story on Reddit, I just wanted you to read and comment on it, as you are a youtuber that I really like, and I hope you could give me so good reviews or advice;
Okay, it's a complicated story so get ready (I have adhd, so story telling is long, with a lot of possibly useless details, and so on and so on) (also english isn't my native language, I apologize for any mistakes or typos) (maybe some trigger warning, for verbal abuse, bullying, sh, suicidal thoughts, it's not a light hearted story at all)
So, I (18 F) lived with my mother (42 F) (As) and my step father (47 M) ( J) since I was 2 years old, after my mum divorced my dad (44 M) (An) after only four months into marriage (which was a disaster from what I got told, expensive wine stolen, my mum's parents being assholes, etc etc), and there is a HUGE possibility of As cheating on my dad, since J cheated on his now ex wife, N, with whom he had a daugter (20 F), E.
So naturally, N and my dad had a lot of resentment toward the third party, N with my mum, and him with J... Which led to a funny thing such as talking shit about them. N would tell E that my mum is a witch because her hair is black and curly, like Mother Gothel, and my dad would do anything not to interact with J., leading to that GROWN ASS MAN to... Hate and bully me haha.
And by bullying, I mean it, he would always call me bad names, using the horrible nickname my school bullies used for me as an every day nickname (I was registered in his phone as those nicknames). I have my hairs curlier than usual? Shaun the Sheep. I had a dance gala and I was Pumba? He would nick name me that. He would also comment on my weight a lot, calling me a pig, telling me to "move my fat", calling me a circle... yada yada yada.
(I am really overweight, and I suffer from an ed (hyperphagia), and at the time I was also under a medication that made me hungrier and have a larger appetite, and being constantly bullied, and belittled, with the school pressure, I gained over 40 kg (about 80 pounds I think?) in 2 years)
My mum wasn't really helping either, she wasn't calling me these nick names, thank the gods, but she was pretty passive agressive, like "oh once you loose weight this skirt would look so great on you", you know. She talked to me about going to a nutritionnist, even talked about a SURGERY.
Also, (this is relevant I promise) I have another sister (12 F), H, and we have the same mum. With us having a 5 years age gap, it was always difficult between the two of us. My parents would force me to play with her, and her games, like Barbies, Playmobils, lego, so things that, when it was for her age, wasn't made for me. And since every time I was forced to be with her, it kinda poisoned our relationship, meaning that until last year, when she started middle school, we were fighting like cats and dogs.
Now, back to my story. My step father loves to invent, or modify the reality. My sister got a small barbie toy in her nose? It was my fault, and I got yelled out. (I tried to get it out, but my fingers where too thick, so I was shaking sooo bad when I realized I had to go see him and asked him for help about the situation... WHICH IS A BIG RED FLAG you should not be shaking of fear when telling a parent about an issue we have!!)
And he also seem to love being rude or mean to me. Like, he would always flick my ears, to the point I started to startling and have that "I-put-my-hands-on-my-ears-to-protect-them" reflex, he would hit me with my math copybook because I didn't get it, he would force me to copy a page of the Bible (we aren't even religious) for something I have still no idea what I did wrong.
When I was 11, I had to do the dishes, because we had just moved in the new house, and the dishwasher had yet to be installed, and the glasses weren't clean enough for his liking, so he made me wash them again. But with the soap and the bubbles, it was slippy, so I let it go accindentally and it broke, as well as my sister's (H) glass. He yelled at me so loud, scaring the shit out of me, that I literally peed myself, and he made me sat on the kitchen chair for two hours, until Mum entered the room, and let me go.
(For those wondering, I don't remember if she knew, or if I ever told her, and like, she was constantly dismissing me and my feelings when I told her that I hated these nickanmes, that it was hurting me, that I didn't like it, because it was "funny to him and it's the way he works, it's the way he shows affection" (he also makes fun of my mum) which is the definition of bullying, when you do something repeatedely that is funny to you, but not to the target of said ""jokes"".)
Once, I was in 10th grade, it was October, and I was lending my tablet to my sister, so she could play the games on it. (My dad had bought it for me when I was 9 so it was pretty old, and lagging) and she wanted to go to my room upstairs to be with me (because somehow, even when I lowkey hated her (cuz forced proximity) she still loved me and wanted to be with me (and that honestly brokes my heart and make me want to cry, because at this point, we were bullying each other)).
But as she open the door of the stairs, J tells her that she shouldn't go see me, that I will hurt her again blah blah blah. So I'm hurt, because I heard this, but H still go see me. But the game is lagging, a pop up window went on the game, and nothing could put it away. So I told her that it was her game, so she deals with it, which she told me that it was my tablet so I deal with it. Shit went south, and we started to argue pretty badly. J called H 1 time, 2 times, 5 times, and every time she yells "five more minutes", until he starts to go upstairs (making my heart sink into my stomach), and barges in my room.
He took her arm, and yanked her out of my room so violently that she fells on the floor, and then he slapped me on my ear and upper cheek so hard that my head turned, and then he yells at my sis and he go back downstairs with her. And I'm sat on my bed, crying, hyperventilating, like, almost suffocating, for 20 minutes, saying that he had no right to do this, that it's illegal... And my mum came in my room, I tell her that I can't do that and yada yada. She tells me that she wouldn't have done better, and she go back downstairs, leaving me there, just crying and hyperventilating.
(I only told that to my dad a year and a half ago, so about then six months after the fact, he and my step mother (49 F), P, were so shocked)
Then comes my 16th birthday, my dad calls me, with P and her parents, to wish me a happy bday, and my sister comes to my room. It led to such an argument over me wanting her to get out of my room that I cried on the phone and had to hang up. Dad called Mum, who called H, and me, and she yelled at me, saying that I should just have mute my phone and deal with it, so it's my fault, and I ended up having my bday canceled, and reported to four days later.
So yeah, I was pretty miserable. Then I go to my dad whole July plus the last 2 weeks of June due to the 11th and 12th graders exams, and they tell me that if I want I can go live at their house, like they said I could in summer before my 9th grade (in which time my mum fought all she could to make me annulate this, because she did not want to move out).
So I said that I wanted to live at my dad, and then I go back to my mum for August!
...
Oh boy.
So, I go back at my then home, and the adults are talking, me and my sisters can't talk because of it, I'm not quite happy being there, but hey, J's daughter, E, is here, and she is amazing, she is a big part of how I literally survived there. So, they are talking, I'm a bit bored, so, resting face, like, emotionless face... Which happed to be a resting bitch face (thanks mum's genetics), so it looks like I'm unhappy being home (and I was).
So then goes the nicknames, the comparison between being at my mum and at my dad as usual, and like, P and her sister, D, encouraged me into speaking up for myself, so I tried, but me speaking up to myself equals being disrespectful and insolent in their books, so guess what? I'm being yelled out. Yay. The first night back home. So then other shit happens, like, me and E not doing the dishes, after she didn't told us to do it, just because she assumed I would do it after doing the dishes for three weeks at my dad. (Which they asked me to do so!!!)
(I'm also autistic and hyperdependant, if you don't tell me to do it, I won't, partly because I'm also scared of doing the wrong thing. I know it excuses nothing, and I'm working on it, I promise).
That's the last straw for me, and I decides that the next day, I'll tell her. Yep. It was awful. The worst summer of my life. Lil sis forbidden from seeing me since "I hate them all". Witholding hugs, and physical affection from me (when my love language is physical touch). The pizza saturday nights? Gone too, if I don't want to be here when shit aren't good, why would they share the good moments with me? (so I ate soup at 7pm, then went straight to bed).
Mum set the rules : she would provide me food, a roof above my head, clean clothes, school necessities, and nothing else. I need a hair trim, new jeans, or shoes? You'll ask you father during Halloween break.
(for the time line, this was in 2022, just as I'm about to enter 11th grade)
And oh this school year... From august 2022 until june 2023, it was awful. And know that it's during this year that me and my sister finally started to get along!
So when I finally actually wanting to be with her and seeing her and her parents forbidding it because "I don't like them anymore" was very tough, emotionnaly and mentally.
So, going back to my step father, he started to just ignoring me, or sighing at every thing I do, because how dare I drink water, or put pepper in my soup? But right before, in September, shit went down, badly.
Like, I learned from friends that sometimes people didn't smoke real tobacco, but tea, and so I told it during lunch. (You should also know that I have that marvelous addiction call self harm... and at this point I had been relapsing for the past two weeks). And they make fun of me, because i presented that fact like all actors smoked tea instead of real cigarettes, and when they did the research, it showed that it was just a few people that did this. And then J starts moking my weight and calling me a circle, and it was, again, the last straw, and I relapsed again... In a stupid way. And J saw me going through the medical supplies, he told my mum, who then went to see me, and i couldn't lie to her, so I just, lifted my shirt and she saw it.
So she panics, yells at me, asking what was going on in my mind, calling the neighbour was is a nurse, she puts bandages on the thing yada yada yada. You should know that I did not, under any circumtances, wanting my baby sister to know. So when she went to say good bye to me because she had a bday party at a friends house that after noon and I noticed how careful she was with my belly when she hugged me, it broke me, because I really didn't want her to know.
And my mum told me H thought that I tried to kms. Which broke me even more. We then went to a hospital, when I was checked by a doctor (it was really superficial, smh, I didn't need that but eh), and then saw a psychiatrist. Who didnt make my mum leave the room. I had to tell in front of her that I wish I was never born, and that I sometime wished she had abort me when she had the chance. Yay.
So then the psych directed me to another, who, after a few tests, diagnosed me with anxiety, depression, memory and attention disorder, mood disorder, and suicidal. Yay. That changed absolutely nothing.
Hell, during Christmas holidays, I wanted to see a film with my sisters, and they accepted under the condition that we do not sit on her bed, with which, of course, J made another ""joke"" about my weight. I had no reaction whatsoever besides just one single tear running down my cheek. But H saw it, and she went mad at my place, and we got yelled at a lot.
(You also need to know that during these events, my best friends were ignoring me, I was all alone in the dorms, had to go alone through a lot of panic attacks, had to eat alone, when one of them sees me, and knows I hate loneliness but she doesn't give a damn. I had other friends, but it was still hurting me like a bitch, as we were besties since 7th grade.)
My friends at school, to which I was telling these things cause I """love""" trauma dumping, were all trying to convince me that my mum was toxic, and I didn't believed them until that fateful night of January. (Because to me, being toxic implied being physically abused... Which my sister go through, but yeah, I was in denial and stupid)
Mum was telling us that we, H and I, weren't the centre of the universe, that if someone doesn't conctact us, it's okay, and shit. (pretty ironic since she yelled at me for not calling her as she had Covid), and my sister said "well, so do you". I swear I was eating my soup, not daring to move an inch too much, barely breathing, almost crying. Then I went to brush my teeth, and then my sister joined me, still getting yelled at because she can't just let mum talk, she has to talk back.
So while I'm fighting back my tears and heart break, I have to see and listen my sister getting screamed out, and spanked (she was 11), and trying to lock the bathroom door because she just had enough. When she locked the door, I tried to be fast to finshish brushing my teeth because I wanted to hug her, but mum manage to get H to open it, so I tried to take my time washing my face and hands, but I still finished before I could hug her.
So I went in my room, and just had a breakdown, a full ass panic attack. And it's that night that I understand how toxic, and manipulatrice she is. She told us that "we have no one else, we can only count on her and J, and that's it." when I have my dad, and H has her aunts and other family.
Then it's Febuary. Dad tells me that it's now impossible to have me at their house, because no more car, and money shortage. And strangely, it's also around that time that mum gets better, warmer, nicer, smoother. How strange !
but still having little passive agressive words, like, I go to hug her because I am touched starve "oh you like your mother now?", some things like that, that just makes it soo difficult.
And it's still hard to live there all the time. And my school nurse suggest that I call CPS.
For a time, I hesitate, i'm scared. Until the night before my 17th birthday.
So, it was during the weekend, and my sister had a friend over from friday night to sunday morning, and that sunday morning, they woke up with two sipders above their head, like, big body, big legs, terrifying. So my sister, scared, asks me if I can sleep with her that night. And I say yes, of course. (I have been refusing for years now, and I regret it soo much now...)
Problem, mum says no. So my sister freaks out. She yells, and cries, and begs my mum because she is scared, and "I promise I will sleep normally after just tonight pleaaaase" (she has a historic of night terrors, and difficulty to go to sleep, she slept in her parents room until last year if I remember correctly.)
Also, prior to that moment, I was in H's room, and I was on her bed, with my back laying on it. (She had the twin size bed of her parents, because mum slept badly, so they took E and I's bed, and I got a bed I had when i was two years old, which literally breaks during the night because of how fragile that shit it!) And J walkes in, yells at my for being on the bed. H yells back, saying it's her room and her bed, and she can decides who can go on her bed, and J responds by saying that it's his house, therefore his room and it's his bed so he gets to decide who goes in there.
Back to my sister freaking out. So I go brush my teeth, and then I don't really know what happened, but now H is trying to convince J, who does not agree. Then he comments on how I was laying like a pig on her bed, which upsets me. The thing was, that my mum was in the way, with an arm popped up on her hips, so when I forcefully went, she got mad, because I pushed her arm, and she started to yell at me how ingrateful I was, how I only like them for money (lmao, what money?) That I was demanding things (me when I asked for my shoes :"uh, hey mum, would it be possible to buy me new shoes please? I really need ones, if that's possible please...")
And then, she threatened to slap me. In front of my sister. This is when I decided that I needed to ask my therapist to call cps.
But... He had to tell my mum, because he can't legally blindside her with this. And she freaked out. Saying she didn't want to go to jail, that how dared he, yada ydad yada. (No one, no one who know they did nothing wrong, would react that way. She knows she is guilty). So then, since she did no want cps at home, because she knew if they get me and H to talk, they'll end up in trouble, my therapist basically blackmailed her into making me leave her house, or he'll call cps on her.
Because I was in danger, I was so low in my mental health, and hinting on possibly kms, so yeah. In danger.
So remember how my dad couldn't take me in? Well he had to take me in urgently. So I slept on the couch for 6 months, until my bed was built, but I still sleep in the living room.
So, right after my exam, I go to my dad, for the whole summer. Once of the best summer, if not the best summer in my life. Sure mum forgot to call me for the whole August and two weeks in September, after she yelled at my dad for forgetting to call me. But it's fine.
And I at first I don't want to go to her for Halloween break. But I want to see my sister, and I planned a day at my best friend's house that lived near my small village. I was supposed to go for a week. But it went south on Tuesday, after I came back from by best friend's house. I had just taken mly shower, and J was on the phone with E. I don't remember the ordeal, but it was about me going to E's house, and me talking to N, E'm mum.
Anyways, things went shitty, and I ended up confessing that J was the reason why I self harmed in September 2022. Yay. So I asked to go back home earlier, and instead of Sunday, I went back on Friday.
And Mum promised me to call and text more... Until she sends me those messages, telling me that she does not want me for Chistmas, that it would ruin it for every one, that she won't step up for me if J starts to bully me again, liken she is actively choosing J, and is trying to make it look like it's my fault?? I'm sorry??
So I breakdown, I show it to my dad, and his parents, and after talking, I decide to block my mother on every thing except tiktok, because I have no idea what is her account, and I have too much followers to be able to search up any suspicious accounts...
So AITAH?
(I left out a lot of things, like she blamed me for their new financial problme, because she has to pay child support, and losing the State's financial help, or that she refused to let me go to my brother's funeral after he was born sleeping, refusing that I serves as an "emotional clutch to my dad" when I needed support too... (she was not the mother, P is.) that she spend our last moment together being passive aggressive...)
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2024.04.30 12:52 healthmedicinet Health Daily News April 29 2024

DAY: APRIL 29 2024

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2024.04.28 23:13 SageSilvera Positive Reinforcement/Natural Consequences for Teen Kids

Hi! First time posting here, and seeking some advice/guidance.
I have a 15 almost 16 year old AFAB ND kiddo who struggles with issues around impulse control and perception. Recently, they had a period of mania where they went on a cleaning spree, and my nicotine vape went missing. We later found out, because they came to me, that in their mania they had taken it hoping it would help with their symptoms since nothing else is right now. They returned it, and we talked about the dangers of them vaping (I’m working on quitting completely but vaping is my stopgap from cigarettes).
Then we just had a situation where another two items have been lost: one was a vape and another was their skirt. We have no idea how the vape went missing as it could have been an honest accident of them knocking it onto the ground, and the skirt was lost due to them not keeping track of their belongings while we were out of town.
They consistently have similar problems, where they accidentally knock things over because they aren’t paying attention to their surroundings, get things on their clothing because they don’t notice it when they move a certain way, lose things because it doesn’t get put away or in a consistent place.
I don’t want to give them a consequence for doing something wrong (I.e. stealing) when they are really having trouble with perception/awareness, but I don’t know what to do to help them, and sometimes these mistakes can be expensive, stressful, or dangerous. Or all 3.
Any suggestions? Thanks!
Parent of two, 12 and 15, both AFAB, both ND. I’m ND as well. All have ADHD, likely some Autism going on, and PTSD.
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