My background: Finished my 3rd year of undergrad in CSE at one of the mid-IIITs (estd. 2013). Managed to earn around 3L+ last year through internships and hackathons. This might not be a lot for you, but this has been my entire year's hard work. And I am pretty sure there might be people who are earning a lot during their B.Tech, very happy to interact with them and share their findings and experience as well on this post! Let's get started.
Saw a lot of questions in this community, like how to earn during B.Tech, etc. Thought I could share my story and it could be helpful to some of the people. I have been very mediocre throughout my life, found CS and coding really interesting while I was in 9th Grade and started coding, thanks to my school for introducing it. Used to code in Java, solve really basic problems like Armstrong Number, etc till my 10th Grade. 11th started and gave up coding altogether for JEE.
I hardly coded for the next 2 years, barely. Just enough to pass my school exams. Gave JEE, got a 97%ile-ish percentile (26-27Kish Rank), had no options but lower branches at NITs and CS and ECE and newer or mid IIITs. Went for CS at IIIT (they are pretty expensive). Always had that feeling that I am wasting so much of my parent's money and wanted to pay back my tuition fees. So actually I started coding again as soon as I could.
I'll break it down for you in a few pointers -
Explore what you find interesting
Explore as much as you can during your first and partly second-year. By the end of your second year, you should be sure about what you want to do. Be it AI, ML, CP, Web3, etc. Anything that interests you.
I found open-source interesting and tried to contribute to a few projects, but couldn't. It was overwhelming, and was able to make some meaningless contributions, not proper features. Disappointed, tried to do CP. As you can imagine, more disappointment. Spent 3-4 months and realized this was not for me. During my 2nd semester, started exploring web development towards the end. Hated it a lot, it was really boring at the start. I am pretty sure you all felt that way when started. The turning point for me was Smart India Hackathon (SIH), which brings me to my next point.
Participate in as many hackathons/events/conferences you can
Nobody is going to judge you if you don't win a hackathon. We participated in SIH, just for fun in our first year (2nd semester). Funny enough, our idea got selected and we were in the finals. We went to the finale (3rd semester) and we won that too. That experience taught me a bunch of stuff. One of those things is:
You need a good team
You need to surround yourself with people who don't give up, who are ready to give all they have got, be it in any hackathon, any class project or anything else. I hadn't touched React before SIH, started with it a week before the finale, and learnt most of it in those 36 hours. I was writing something that I had no prior experience in, and that feeling was amazing, which brings me to another point.
Practice as much as you can. Get as much real-world experience as you can.
One of the best advices that I had ever gotten from a senior was, "Expose yourself to as much technologies as you can and get familiar with them." That worked like a charm. I am still hungry for learning something new. We won SIH, btw. We were super elated. We got selected in our first year and won by the time we reached our second year.
From there on, I started looking for internships because I was familiar with React now. I did everything I could. Tried to keep my LinkedIn active, made a Wellfound account (back then, it was called AngelList), Internshala, did everything I could. A lot of my internship search was off at times. I never did it consistently during my 3rd semester. Plus I think, it's very hard for companies to take a 2nd year student seriously, everyone wants an internship and money but do you really have the skills? I found a teaching assistant intern for Java through Internshala (even Idk how), they paid me around 8K for 20 days. That was my first ever earning after the SIH's prize money. I was pretty happy, but that just motivated me to get more internships, this time, actual development internships.
Soon after, found one through Linkedin in my 4th semester itself and after that, there was pretty much no stopping which brings me to my next point.
Be consistent in your internship/job search
I started being more active on professional platforms. I used to apply at at least 15-20 openings daily through different platforms like LinkedIn and Wellfound. Mostly on Wellfound. For a month or so, no callbacks. It was a drought. And it is really disheartening to watch that, but that's when you just gotta keep going. I kept applying and soon enough, I was giving 2-3 interviews a day for weeks. Interviews helped me. My 2023 summer vacations went in improving my resume, making a good project, adding it to the resume, getting my resume reviewed multiple times by my seniors and implementing their feedback.
During summer vacations, I started exploring web3 and it was interesting. Started applying for web3 companies for fun. Interesting enough, got some callbacks. I still remember a company, a web3 one. Their process went on for a month, 4 rounds, 2 take-back assignments, I did everything and yet I was rejected xD with no feedback. That hurt. But just a week after, I had gotten myself another interview at an Indian web3 company. I was really excited because they had raised around 20 M USD 2 years back so really wanted to work for that company.
It's a long story, but I officially joined that company for 6 months starting in October 2023. I loved the culture, the people, and everything was great. Except, I had too much free time. So started looking for more work. Long story, interned at an AI startup as a Product Engineering Intern for 2.5 months during October to December. In February, another web3 startup, worked for 2 months and the pay was great, but left it because it was getting really hectic. I switched departments in my original web3 company and got another intern for 6 months in the new department, hoping for a full-time role in this department xD
So that's pretty much it. That's my story, or at least the gist of it. Participated in several hackathons along the way, lost most, won some, but at the end of the day, it's the experience for me. Definitely, my most interesting year.
I'd love your guys's questions on this post. If anyone else wants to post their experience in the comments, they are free to! Also any suggestions to the post are appreciated. This is my first time writing such a long post here on Reddit.

These past 2 years have been brutal, it's been L after L with no break.
I feel like a mouse in a maze that every time it approaches the exit is dragged back to the start by a hand from the sky.
It doesn't matter how much I try, the outcome is always the worst possible one.
I've gone from agnostic to full on believer because I don't think someone can be this unlucky without some almighty being involved in it.
I now fully believe God exists and either:

1. He is actively punishing me
2. He has left me stranded

   
Will keep it short since I know you hoes like reading this kind of shit:
 
Around 2 years ago I was leasing a horse, and giving it my all, I was earning an entry-level salary in a comfy remote work living with my parents. Keeping the horse was costing me pretty much my full salary. I didn't go out and did anything except lifting, running, riding and working.
For almost a year I was the happiest I had ever been, I literally jumped out of bed excited to live the day, I would work 8-4, lift in my home gym and go visit my horse, either riding, or just being with him, during the time I had him I didn't go a single day without seeing him.
Of course living like this means that I don't have the most social life or friends circle, but I didn't care since every hour of my life was busy.
My plan for the year was training and competing and then in September changing jobs and buying the horse, but in July the horse was injured, I didn't get the best veterinary advice and didn't know what to do, I was being drained for a horse I couldn't even ride or enjoy, after all those months of hard work and discipline, for some reason the owner got mad, and petty sold him behind my back.
During this time, my highschool best friend started regaining contact and started meeting with me and his gf, they gave me a lot of support during those weeks, against all odds, I nailed an interview for a high-paying job that would've allowed me to buy the horse and maintain it comfortably.
I was still too hurt from what had happened, so I just chilled for a few months, saving money, and hanging out with my friend and his gf, and lifting and running, I was at my physical peak, I was lifting heavier than ever, running faster and longer, I was optimistic for the future, I just needed time to heal and I had the means to do so, social life, earning money and physical activity.
 
Fast forward to December and I receive a cryptic message from my friend's GF saying that she wasn't going to be here for my birthday (we met the previous day) because my dumbass friend just broke up with her.
That basically destroyed my little social life since they were living in the city, and my friend disappeared to be with his new GF.
I tried to comfort her and be there for her (wasn't attracted and even if I were it wouldn't be right to take advantage of the situation).
The months of just working and lifting allowed me to save enough to start looking to buy my own horse, I was still hurting from the whole situation, and being alone, but still I was just lifting heavy, running, walking my dog, keeping myself busy.
In February after trying and vetting some horses, I found one that seemed promising. I bought a very expensive veterinary exam, and he passed it, allegedly, I buy the horse.
 
Long story short, barely 3 weeks into ownership, I started noticing pain and weird stuff that shouldn't be happening since I started with very soft work, a few weeks of going through 3 different vets, and basically the horse had a life-long injury that the first vet didn't catch in the exam, and basically it was done for, I was devastated, I tried some solutions but they we're not effective, it was over.
During those months, my friend's ex-gf started coming to visit me, we slept together (no sex), we talked every day, I gave her presents, one would say what I did was love bombing her, but to me It was just being there giving support, for her it turned into a situationship.
I still had the horse, I couldn't selling him while he was untrained, and I still had a bit of faith in the vet's advice, and then, suddenly, my knee started hurting, I was lucky that in my new job I had private insurance, so I could immediately go to the orthopedist and do an MRI without the long ass waits of the public health care (up to a year for the MRI), and lo and behold, torn meniscus, it rapidly went from "pain while running" to "some days I can't even fucking walk", I had to stop riding, paying my trainer to ride my horse since I needed to sell him, I had to stop running, I had to stop doing any leg gym exercises.
I didn't want to do the surgery since what I read online was very contradictory.
 
Because shit can always get worse, one day I was alone with my parents (we also live with my brother and grandma), and I notice the vibes being off, I ask “what the fuck is your problem?” and they confess that my father doesn’t like my mom anymore, well, not to get into too much detail but since then I’ve had to endure watching my mom cry, they get into arguments all the time, just awful, thing is I was already so drained from my personal bullshit that after the initial shock, It didn’t pain me too much, they just keep living together, although I hear them arguing from time to time.
During those months my ex-friend’s ex-gf kept catching feelings for me, and my autistic ass couldn't really read the situation so I made it worse. Finally she asked me if I was going serious with her or if she could go on about her life. I said that I didn't see her as my partner, and since then she got a boyfriend and our friendship went to shit.
 
I finally sold the horse, my life got extremely bored.
I decided to do the surgery since I couldn't do any of the things I enjoyed, running, riding, whatever, but I had a trip in January with her so I had to postpone it until then, for those months all I could do was going for walks like an old man, and hit the gym (all chest no legs), I was going kinda hard tho, since I knew that during the months of recovery I would lose a lot of muscle and I wanted to go in my best form, during those months I acquired my best physique ever, for the first time, after years of being constant, I liked how my body looked.
The trip was a mistake, she nagged me every minute of it, I could tell she had only gone because it was already paid for, I had postponed the surgery 2 months just to have a horrible weekend.
 
I did the surgery and the first bad news came, they couldn't fix the broken part of the meniscus, so they took it out, this was the worst possible outcome since it would mean a shorter recovery, but the probabilities of arthritis in the future were higher, off to a good start.
2 weeks later I start going to rehab, during those weeks nobody came to visit me, well, my friend did, only to talk shit on his new coworker (during those months he would only message me to talk shit about coworkers or work), nobody else, not the situationship, not my trainer, nobody.
Speaking about the situationship, after the trip, she stopped messaging me, and even replying at all. I thought, well, there it goes, I’ve lost “not being an unopened chat” privilege.
Some boring months of rehab, working the job that I started to dread, and doing the boring ass knee exercises at home, and then, suddenly a glimmer of hope.
 
I start being treated by a “new” physio, but turns out she had been on sick leave for the same reason as me, she tore her meniscus, during those first 3-4 sessions we talked and talked for the whole hour, she was just perfect, around my age, funny, cute, was active, played sports, had a nice body, she lives like 5 minutes walk from my house.
I immediately fell in love like I had never before in my life, and that’s when it came to me, this was it, every bad thing that happened to me has come to this, to meeting this girl, everything made sense, If I had my surgery earlier I would not have met her because she would be on sick leave. My broken meniscus, my lame horse, every bad thing that had happened to me had led me to her.
So I take my autistic ass, and since I felt like we had something cool going on I ask “Hey, I think you’re very interesting and cute and would like to know you better, can I have your number so we can meet and go for a drink some day?” and she actually did give it to me, I asked for her number instead of her IG because I didn’t want to play any game, I thought she wouldn’t give me her number unless she was interested in me, I was ecstatic.
I start texting her and after refusing to meet a few times (with actually convincing excuses) I ask her “Hey if you don't want its fine I won't bother you anymore, just tell me” and she basically told me that she didn’t want to break the physio-patient barrier, I didn’t understand anything but I didn’t want to make it weirder since she is still treating me so I just accepted it.
 
The thing is, I know where she lives, I have to walk past her apartment whenever I go for a walk, drive to town, I get reminded constantly, moving on is very hard, I really thought she was for me, I thought she was finally the reward for all my suffering, but turns out she's just part of the punishment, I legit had a religious revelation, every single bad thing that had happened, God made it so I went and met her, my knee injury, having to sell the horse, losing my friends, no way it was a coincidence.
 
Now that I know that she is not for me, not even as a friend, I have nothing, the knee recovery is not going well, I was supposed to be a-ok in 6 weeks, It’s been 3 months and I still can’t even go for a walk without swelling and pain, I can’t workout because the knee exercises take a long ass time and I feel like they’re not doing shit, I don’t have friends to meet and take my mind off it, every few weeks I have to see my mum weeping around the house because my father is a piece of shit.
 
And to top it all, I just started having similar pain in the good knee, so there is a possibility that even If I hadn’t done shit, it may be injured too, this shit just doesn’t end, it just fucking never ends.
     
TLDR: Everything that has ever given me pleasure or made me happy has been taken away from me. I went from getting out of bed full of hope and enthusiasm to sleeping through my alarms because the only thing I can do is sit in front of a screen. I’ve been having the worst day of my life every day for the past 2 years, after everything I’ve worked hard for and all the sacrifices I’ve made.

These past 2 years have been brutal, it's been L after L with no break.
I feel like a mouse in a maze that every time it approaches the exit is dragged back to the start by a hand from the sky.
It doesn't matter how much I try, the outcome is always the worst possible one.
I've gone from agnostic to full on believer because I don't think someone can be this unlucky without some almighty being involved in it.
I now fully believe God exists and either:

1. He is actively punishing me
2. He has left me stranded

   
Will keep it short since I know you hoes like reading this kind of shit:
 
Around 2 years ago I was leasing a horse, and giving it my all, I was earning an entry-level salary in a comfy remote work living with my parents. Keeping the horse was costing me pretty much my full salary. I didn't go out and did anything except lifting, running, riding and working.
For almost a year I was the happiest I had ever been, I literally jumped out of bed excited to live the day, I would work 8-4, lift in my home gym and go visit my horse, either riding, or just being with him, during the time I had him I didn't go a single day without seeing him.
Of course living like this means that I don't have the most social life or friends circle, but I didn't care since every hour of my life was busy.
My plan for the year was training and competing and then in September changing jobs and buying the horse, but in July the horse was injured, I didn't get the best veterinary advice and didn't know what to do, I was being drained for a horse I couldn't even ride or enjoy, after all those months of hard work and discipline, for some reason the owner got mad, and petty sold him behind my back.
During this time, my highschool best friend started regaining contact and started meeting with me and his gf, they gave me a lot of support during those weeks, against all odds, I nailed an interview for a high-paying job that would've allowed me to buy the horse and maintain it comfortably.
I was still too hurt from what had happened, so I just chilled for a few months, saving money, and hanging out with my friend and his gf, and lifting and running, I was at my physical peak, I was lifting heavier than ever, running faster and longer, I was optimistic for the future, I just needed time to heal and I had the means to do so, social life, earning money and physical activity.
 
Fast forward to December and I receive a cryptic message from my friend's GF saying that she wasn't going to be here for my birthday (we met the previous day) because my dumbass friend just broke up with her.
That basically destroyed my little social life since they were living in the city, and my friend disappeared to be with his new GF.
I tried to comfort her and be there for her (wasn't attracted and even if I were it wouldn't be right to take advantage of the situation).
The months of just working and lifting allowed me to save enough to start looking to buy my own horse, I was still hurting from the whole situation, and being alone, but still I was just lifting heavy, running, walking my dog, keeping myself busy.
In February after trying and vetting some horses, I found one that seemed promising. I bought a very expensive veterinary exam, and he passed it, allegedly, I buy the horse.
 
Long story short, barely 3 weeks into ownership, I started noticing pain and weird stuff that shouldn't be happening since I started with very soft work, a few weeks of going through 3 different vets, and basically the horse had a life-long injury that the first vet didn't catch in the exam, and basically it was done for, I was devastated, I tried some solutions but they we're not effective, it was over.
During those months, my friend's ex-gf started coming to visit me, we slept together (no sex), we talked every day, I gave her presents, one would say what I did was love bombing her, but to me It was just being there giving support, for her it turned into a situationship.
I still had the horse, I couldn't selling him while he was untrained, and I still had a bit of faith in the vet's advice, and then, suddenly, my knee started hurting, I was lucky that in my new job I had private insurance, so I could immediately go to the orthopedist and do an MRI without the long ass waits of the public health care (up to a year for the MRI), and lo and behold, torn meniscus, it rapidly went from "pain while running" to "some days I can't even fucking walk", I had to stop riding, paying my trainer to ride my horse since I needed to sell him, I had to stop running, I had to stop doing any leg gym exercises.
I didn't want to do the surgery since what I read online was very contradictory.
 
Because shit can always get worse, one day I was alone with my parents (we also live with my brother and grandma), and I notice the vibes being off, I ask “what the fuck is your problem?” and they confess that my father doesn’t like my mom anymore, well, not to get into too much detail but since then I’ve had to endure watching my mom cry, they get into arguments all the time, just awful, thing is I was already so drained from my personal bullshit that after the initial shock, It didn’t pain me too much, they just keep living together, although I hear them arguing from time to time.
During those months my ex-friend’s ex-gf kept catching feelings for me, and my autistic ass couldn't really read the situation so I made it worse. Finally she asked me if I was going serious with her or if she could go on about her life. I said that I didn't see her as my partner, and since then she got a boyfriend and our friendship went to shit.
 
I finally sold the horse, my life got extremely bored.
I decided to do the surgery since I couldn't do any of the things I enjoyed, running, riding, whatever, but I had a trip in January with her so I had to postpone it until then, for those months all I could do was going for walks like an old man, and hit the gym (all chest no legs), I was going kinda hard tho, since I knew that during the months of recovery I would lose a lot of muscle and I wanted to go in my best form, during those months I acquired my best physique ever, for the first time, after years of being constant, I liked how my body looked.
The trip was a mistake, she nagged me every minute of it, I could tell she had only gone because it was already paid for, I had postponed the surgery 2 months just to have a horrible weekend.
 
I did the surgery and the first bad news came, they couldn't fix the broken part of the meniscus, so they took it out, this was the worst possible outcome since it would mean a shorter recovery, but the probabilities of arthritis in the future were higher, off to a good start.
2 weeks later I start going to rehab, during those weeks nobody came to visit me, well, my friend did, only to talk shit on his new coworker (during those months he would only message me to talk shit about coworkers or work), nobody else, not the situationship, not my trainer, nobody.
Speaking about the situationship, after the trip, she stopped messaging me, and even replying at all. I thought, well, there it goes, I’ve lost “not being an unopened chat” privilege.
Some boring months of rehab, working the job that I started to dread, and doing the boring ass knee exercises at home, and then, suddenly a glimmer of hope.
 
I start being treated by a “new” physio, but turns out she had been on sick leave for the same reason as me, she tore her meniscus, during those first 3-4 sessions we talked and talked for the whole hour, she was just perfect, around my age, funny, cute, was active, played sports, had a nice body, she lives like 5 minutes walk from my house.
I immediately fell in love like I had never before in my life, and that’s when it came to me, this was it, every bad thing that happened to me has come to this, to meeting this girl, everything made sense, If I had my surgery earlier I would not have met her because she would be on sick leave. My broken meniscus, my lame horse, every bad thing that had happened to me had led me to her.
So I take my autistic ass, and since I felt like we had something cool going on I ask “Hey, I think you’re very interesting and cute and would like to know you better, can I have your number so we can meet and go for a drink some day?” and she actually did give it to me, I asked for her number instead of her IG because I didn’t want to play any game, I thought she wouldn’t give me her number unless she was interested in me, I was ecstatic.
I start texting her and after refusing to meet a few times (with actually convincing excuses) I ask her “Hey if you don't want its fine I won't bother you anymore, just tell me” and she basically told me that she didn’t want to break the physio-patient barrier, I didn’t understand anything but I didn’t want to make it weirder since she is still treating me so I just accepted it.
 
The thing is, I know where she lives, I have to walk past her apartment whenever I go for a walk, drive to town, I get reminded constantly, moving on is very hard, I really thought she was for me, I thought she was finally the reward for all my suffering, but turns out she's just part of the punishment, I legit had a religious revelation, every single bad thing that had happened, God made it so I went and met her, my knee injury, having to sell the horse, losing my friends, no way it was a coincidence.
 
Now that I know that she is not for me, not even as a friend, I have nothing, the knee recovery is not going well, I was supposed to be a-ok in 6 weeks, It’s been 3 months and I still can’t even go for a walk without swelling and pain, I can’t workout because the knee exercises take a long ass time and I feel like they’re not doing shit, I don’t have friends to meet and take my mind off it, every few weeks I have to see my mum weeping around the house because my father is a piece of shit.
 
And to top it all, I just started having similar pain in the good knee, so there is a possibility that even If I hadn’t done shit, it may be injured too, this shit just doesn’t end, it just fucking never ends.
     
TLDR: Everything that has ever given me pleasure or made me happy has been taken away from me. I went from getting out of bed full of hope and enthusiasm to sleeping through my alarms because the only thing I can do is sit in front of a screen. I’ve been having the worst day of my life every day for the past 2 years, after everything I’ve worked hard for and all the sacrifices I’ve made.

Is it possible for someone with BPD to hide it extremely well? My wife has told me that her therapists have all told her she doesn’t have BPD. But when I look at the DSM 5 criteria, she hits nearly all of them: She is constantly telling me she feels empty and lonely, she gets upset over small or imagined transgressions several times a day, she’s terrified of being abandoned, she has no stable hobbies or sense of self (to the point where she internally panics when asked “What do you do for fun?”), she tells me she “sees red” and becomes controlled by rage when she’s triggered, she has trouble maintaining friendships (but they always start out as the “perfect” match), she fixates on catastrophic world ending events and often questions whether life is even real, she disassociates or “checks out” completely to where my kids or I will say her name repeatedly and she doesn’t hear us or even process it, and she routinely mentions wanting to die or “not exist” (often in front of the kids, and sometimes with very descriptive language like “I want to bash my head into the wall” or “I want to throw myself through a window”).
Each of my personal therapists I’ve talked to over the years has either not-so-subtly hinted or just flat out said my wife likely suffers from BPD. And each of my therapists and every couples therapist we’ve seen has said that my wife’s behavior is manipulative and emotionally and verbally abusive.
The hard part is that my wife hides it very well. She can be screaming and cursing at me in the car one minute and then flip the switch when we arrive and be cheery and bubbly with family. I never talk about marriage conflicts with friends or family, and the abuse and manipulation only come up in my personal therapy sessions or our couples counseling. We’ve had to switch couples counselors a few times whenever one words something wrong or suggests something she disagrees with. I don’t eavesdrop on her personal therapy sessions, but she sometimes takes them from home and it’s hard for me to believe she’s being 100% honest about her behavior when I hear a bunch of laughter and a lighthearted tone coming from the room she’s in. I think to myself “What’s so funny and lighthearted about her screaming and calling me a piece of shit and stomping and throwing things while the kids and I cower under the kitchen table?”
Sorry for the super long post. Like I said, I don’t share any of this with any friends or family, and it took a lot for me to build the courage to post this here today.

Hello, one and all. Been lurking for a while. Thought I'd share my experience thus far. I'm a 45-year-old female who herniated L4/L5 in early January. I'm, therefore, four months, two weeks post-injury.
It's a mild-ish protrusion pressing on nerves and causing sciatica. I have never had back pain. I'm a Brit. I plan to get over this conservatively and do not intend to have any injections or surgery. Note that I have some trouble lifting my left foot and walking as normal on that side, but everything is functional. I am able to lift my toes and heels, and I have full sensation everywhere.
From my scan, disc height is compromised only a tiny bit (I have juicy discs). I have a very wide and spacious nerve canal. No other issues aside from a transitional disc below (born with more bone than disc at L5/S1, very common, and I'm luckily in the "won't cause pain" camp) and a slight bulging disc above, which isn't pressing on anything. The transitional disc is likely to have led to this injury. But moving house finally pushed me over the edge, lifting things the wrong way.

The first month

The first month was obviously painful. Terrible sleep; sciatica was awful (burning in my left calf and left foot with some right foot tingling), and I was very stiff and leaning forward most mornings. Doing McKenzie cobras in those early days helped massively. And amazingly, I kept up with walking and averaged 15,000 steps daily. It wasn't painful. But I was taking Ibuprofen and paracetamol. I believe a lot of my sciatica has been caused by inflammation.
Back then, I was seeing a physio and doing some basic pelvic tilts, bridges, calf stretches, cat/camels, and – like I mentioned – cobra poses. Otherwise, I would mostly lie on the floor, on my front, resting. Or walking outdoors. It would take me three hours just to pluck up the courage to shower. And I could only stand under the hot water for less than a minute before lying on the floor again. Sitting was impossible. I couldn't use the car. I couldn't sleep on my left side. I would crawl down the stairs each morning after barely any sleep and go straight to the drugs. I couldn't make breakfast or do anything. But as each day wore on, I'd become less stiff and more upright and be able to walk for miles.

In search of a silver bullet

I tried everything in February and March. Acupuncture, physio, McKenzie stuff... They put me on Amitriptyline initially, but I hated it. And so they gave me Gabapentin. This helped with sleep and dialled down the pain significantly (I was on 300mg three times a day). I vaguely remember a crazy day when I walked into my local town, sat, and had cake and tea with an old friend. Still to this day, I can't figure out how! Boy, those drugs worked!
By the end of March, I discovered Egoscue and began posture therapy. I did it religiously for six weeks and even began working with a therapist. But it wasn't helping. And I didn't see any improvements. I also decided to come off the Gabapentin during this time (I would later go back on it, as I was in a lot of pain), as I felt totally off my face and hated it.
Around February, I also discovered Dr Stuart McGill. And read his excellent book, Back Mechanic. I learnt about spine hygiene and loads of other helpful stuff. Gradually, little by little, turning in bed got easier (brace that core) and getting up out of bed and off the toilet became pain-free, too. But I just wasn't seeing massive improvement.

Finding the right approach

That's when I decided to see a Master Clinician under McGill. Wow. It was the best money I had ever spent, and I'd spent more on acupuncture!
He went through my scan, was the only one to tell me about the transitional disc, and asked what I'd been doing thus far. He recommended that I give the posture therapy and the walking a break, just for a few weeks, to see if we could calm the inflammation down. And so I did. I rested. I mostly lay on the floor on my front or back and only moved around the house. No outdoor walking. No McKenzie cobra poses (which I've since discovered do more harm than good long-term and adopt a gentler version McGill recommends and says is just as effective). That was back in early April. And following his advice alone? I saw immediate improvements. In fact, the very next day, I was pain-free for seven hours. I couldn't believe it – just by resting.
I only rested for three weeks, and then I decided to try walking outdoors again. My gosh. The difference after the break! I could barely do ten minutes around the block without pain. It was too much. (I could never walk first thing before either – only later on in the day. But it would usually be fine.) But my back specialist wanted me to try walking three times a day, starting small. So, I persisted. He told me to stop if walking made things worse, though. Thankfully, it's been three weeks since I began walking outdoors again, and I'm making great progress. I can now get up from bed and walk immediately (I had to give it an hour before I ventured out of the house). And I can walk for half an hour, too. Three times a day. I find that a morning walk is crucial. I am stiff and a little sore at first, but it eases. And sets me up for the day. I also enjoy two or three hours of no pain when returning home.

Finally seeing progress

Since early April, the improvements have been gradual but almost daily. They're so small sometimes that you hardly notice them! It's only when you look back that you realise how far you've come!
In the six weeks since I worked with my back specialist, I have seen the constant burning sciatica in my foot and calf mostly disappear. Initially, I had a lot of fuzzing. That has now subsided, and since then, it's gone from fuzzing to cold water feelings and tingling... with occasional burning again (mostly only in the top of my calf), but that goes quickly. Now and again, I'll get a random ten minutes of a burning foot again, but it soon disappears.
A few weeks ago, I started getting new sharp and painful jolts in my left hip. That's apparently blood returning to the nerves. For the last week, I have barely had any foot or calf issues—I mostly have sharp pulling nerve pain on my left kneecap and similar symptoms in my hip. Only in the last month have I occasionally started to get a bruised feeling in my lumbar spine.
The morning stiffness and leaning forward? Gone. I am bolt-upright every morning and feel pretty good, posture-wise. Funny enough, since I quit doing the posture therapy. Go figure!
My glutes are very tight and constantly holding themselves. I'm trying to teach them to relax, but it's tough, as I know they're protecting themselves. I've been using heat to relax them—just a microwaved wheat sack some mornings.
Under a week ago, I came off Gabapentin. And I also quit Ibuprofen about five weeks ago. The only meds I take now are paracetamol – just one dose in the middle of the night to calm my (good) right hip that gets sore from only sleeping on that side.

How far I've come

Here I am, four months and two weeks post-injury. I still can't sit on a soft surface (I use a special sciatica cushion on a dining chair), I can't sit in a vehicle for the same reason, I can't sleep on my left side, and I still have some mild foot drop but am walking better.
On a positive note, the pain symptoms are changing daily, which is apparently a good sign. I am starting to feel some back pain for the first time, too. Centralisation is perhaps occurring. Instead of lying on the floor for several hours before breakfast, I now find better relief in standing and moving around. I can also sit for short spurts on my dining chair first thing in the morning, whereas before, I'd only be able to do that from midday.
I'm sleeping better. Six or seven hours a night. It's a tad broken, but I feel rested. And when I get up in the morning? Whereas before, my left leg and foot would go crazy with fuzzing and burning, now? Nothing. A mild tingling some mornings, but otherwise, fine.
I spend more of my days moving around, standing, walking, and occasionally sitting than "resetting" on the floor. And when I do feel sciatica getting worse, a brief rest on the floor makes the pain go away. It's never 100 per cent pain-free, you understand. It's mildly uncomfortable and feels like it could get worse at any moment, but I'm good.
And I'm finding that if I overdo it, any flare-up I might have is brief and easily overcome. Whereas before, it might've been five days to recover, now it's an hour resting on the floor.
If I stand at my standing desk for too long, my lumbar ache begins. It's not painful. It just feels weird—bruised, almost unstable, like I can feel it stacked. I lie down, reset, and then I'm good to go.

What has really helped

I now know what to do to avoid triggering pain. I can tie my shoes with my foot on a bench and lunge in. I have a shoe horn – a game-changer! I also use a strapped-on ice pack when I need to calm my nerves. Less so these days. And heat on my ass when the glutes feel too tight. I only take paracetamol in the middle of the night to help me sleep. Oh, and I find going to bed with an ice pack on sometimes really helps!
The meds definitely helped in those painful early days; but I need feedback. Once I felt I could, I stopped taking everything.
During this time, I also hired a cleaner (fortnightly) and a gardener. I've not stopped working (I have no choice; I am a freelancer). And I have no kids. So I don't have to commute anywhere. I stay at home and rest, and the only time I leave the house is to walk. I also invested in a new mattress, a game changer (John Ryan Artisan Luxury, if anyone wants to know). I am very lucky in all of these respects, I know.
The walking really helps – but it was only when I stopped, rested, and allowed by body to heal that I noticed a difference in my symptoms.

Not out the woods yet...

Pain is still an issue. Evenings are the worst. I go to bed around 9pm and lying there brings relief and I have no issue going to sleep. I only wake after about three or four hours due to sleeping on the same side every night. And then easily fall back to sleep, with only a few brief waking moments. I roughly get around six or seven hours a night. And thankfully, sciatica isn't really present at night (maybe a little harmless fuzzing). Just the evenings before bed – that's when it can get intense and the burning in my calf and foot can come back tenfold. Sigh.
Mornings are my best friend now. Pain doesn't usually become an issue until much later in the day. I'll have little episodes. But I can swiftly reset myself and move on. It can get harder to reset the later in the day it becomes, too. Some days are worse than others. The good days are starting to outweigh the bad. When I have an awful day, I do feel disheartened. But then I remember how far I've come, and try and stay strong.
I don't always do my three walks, either. If that evening walk doesn't feel right, I won't do it. I'll rest. I'll ice my back and lie down. I absolutely am trying to avoid drugs. But I have ibuprofen in my cupboard, just in case!

What's next?

I'm nowhere near ready to begin strength training. And I've avoided all physio and stretching of late. I am just doing what my back specialist recommends. Some mild cat/camels to get the blood flowing, walking, resting. I take magnesium, turmeric, vitamins D and B12, omega-3. I try to avoid sugar and alcohol (I don't always succeed on that one). I'm not ready for longer walks yet. And there's no way I could take a bath, sit up in bed, or sit on the sofa.
But I am healing. This has been quite the journey, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I'm excited for the next phase of recovery: rehab! And boy, will I be taking it seriously—for the rest of my life! It's down to us, after all. No one can do it for us.
There are some big life events coming up that I know I'm not ready for. When they get closer, if I'm still not better, I will call my GP and ask for advice. Ibuprofen might be brought out again. Perhaps even something stronger. But if I'm one of the lucky ones, I should be seeing further progress in the coming weeks and months.
I rate my ability to function normally when I can sleep on my left side again, drive my car and when I can sit on the sofa, too! I won't mind if there is some residual pain and weakness. As long as I can function without having the crux of a floor and yoga mat nearby.

Key takeaways

• Sleep is everything. Prioritise sleep. Get a new mattress if you can. Lie on your side with a pillow between your knees or on your back with a pillow below your knees.
• Read Back Mechanic by Stuart McGill as soon as possible – learn how to avoid pain triggers.
• Take the meds when you need to. But remember, they are masking a lot of pain. So go easy!
• Drink lots of water. Stay hydrated for your spine.
• Take some supplements but do your research. I take magnesium (muscle), turmeric (anti-inflammatory), vitamins B12 (nerves) and D (bone), and omega-3 (joints and bones).
• Ice when trying to calm the nerves; heat when trying to relax the muscles.
• Try and avoid sugar and alcohol – they cause inflammation.
• Walk when you can. Start gradually. Once in the morning – as soon as you get up; once after lunch and once after dinner. Start at two minutes if you have to. Build to half an hour each time. Once you can do this with little to no pain, try some longer walks. Take long strides, swing your arms from the shoulders, and keep a good neutral posture.
• Listen to your body! Rest when you need to.
• Stay positive. Create fun little rituals throughout your days. Start a new hobby. Keep mentally strong. Call friends and family. Get people to visit you if you can.
• Only do what's essential. Sod the housework! Get food shops delivered. And develop a more relaxed attitude to everything – do you really need to sort the ironing?
• Buy some comfortable loungewear. Game-changer!
• Most of all, time is the biggest healer. These things can take up to two years to settle. The average is apparently six months. Everyone is different.

I am more than happy to answer any questions. I hope this has helped someone. It's certainly helped me to get it all on screen. And I wanted to thank this community for all I've learned this year. I hope you're not in too much pain.

🪞
Welcome back to the Asylum write-up, where we explore the decade-long slow-motion car crash that is the Emilie Autumn fandom.
Sorry this installment took so long to upload! Just a heads-up, I may take some time to deliver the last one too – these posts take forever to format on Reddit's finicky-ass editor, and my dumb real life is currently keeping me from precious Internet time. Thank you for your patience! You have my word that everyone who pre-ordered the final installment will receive a PERSONAL, HANDWRITTEN letter autographed and illustrated by me, a list of the snacks I consumed while composing this write-up, some exclusive behind-the-scenes secrets, and a pony.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4.1 – Part 4.2 Part 5

Places, everyone This is a test Throw your stones Do your damage Your worst, and your best (...) And if I had a dollar For every time I repented the sin And commit the same crime I'd be sitting on top of the world today (“God Help Me”, 2006🎵)

Quick recap of where we left off. First, there were five to ten halcyon years of pleasant and meaningful interactions between EA and her blossoming fanbase, prominently by way of her official forum. Then, circa 2009-2010, EA's online presence shifted towards sudden anger outbursts, ban-hammering, and an increasingly top-down communication style.
This created a sort of primordial rift within the fanbase, between those who supported EA's right to speak her mind and regulate her own fan spaces however she pleased – and those who thought that her reactions were rude and inappropriate (at best), and that even fan spaces should allow for reasonable, non-abusive criticism of the artist.
Between a poorly-handled book release (see Part 3), the controversial (Part 2) or dubiously true (Part 4) contents of said book, and serious shade from various former collaborators (Part 5), more and more fans had pressing thoughts about EA's work ethic and choices. EA attempted damage control through drastic forum rules that made it virtually impossible to voice any “serious” critical opinion. It didn't work, of course: instead of squashing the mutiny, she created a schism.
Critical fans and active haters started congregating on unofficial platforms.

“WITH MUFFINS LIKE THIS, WHO NEEDS ENEMIES?”: TROLL LIKE A GIRL

So here we were, the early 2010s. The official forum (which had about 700 members in 2006, if you recall) was now thousands-strong, reaching just over 12,000 registered users in 2012 – not all of them active, but still. In terms of sheer numbers and content creation, the party was POPPIN'... but increasingly in parts of the Asylum that escaped EA's jurisdiction, such as Tumblr, where they could speak their mind freely.

You play the victim very well You've built your self-indulgent hell You wanted someone to understand you Well, be careful what you wish for, because I do (“I Know Where You Sleep”, 2006🎵)

In one wing of Asylum Tumblr, a smattering of call-out blogs emerged, which laid out EA's various lies, faux pas, shitty takes, and general deep-seated terribleness in detailed timelines and screenshots (or, short of that, long-winded bullet points). While many such blogs framed it as “serious” whistleblowing and did their best to remain as fact-based and neutral as they could, there was some genuine disgust, animosity and creepiness towards EA on that side of Tumblr; for some ex-fans, “exposing the truth” was mostly justify obsessive hatred, prying and verbal abuse. Some, for instance, felt the bizarre need to side with EA's mother in their estrangement. (One user, with the URL “emilyautumnfischkopf”, argued in a serious and down-to-earth tone - but with zero sources - that EA's upbringing had been nothing but peaceful and supportive until she ungratefully kicked her loving family to the curb for no reason at all. They were later revealed 🔍 to have an alternate handle as “eaisalyingcunt”.)
Either way, through these blogs, a number of potential drama bombs that had mostly flown under the radar were dredged up from over the years – some of which were hard to ignore, even for supportive fans. Where to begin?
There was that nonsense in-joke song, captured twice on camera during the 2009 tour (to very little outrage, at the time), crassly called “Manatee Retard”📺. Or EA's scathing response, in print, to a wheelchair user who found it insensitive that she used a bedazzled wheelchair as a prop to do sexy acrobatics on stage. (“Your offence taken at my hard-won self-acceptance proves that I indeed have something to fight against”, she wrote). Spoken word tracks where she made trivializing knock-knock jokes about serious mental illnesses she didn't have, like schizophrenia and OCD. Multiple instances of calling Britney Spears a “bimbo” and a “Hollywood fucked-up”, resentfully claiming that she only shaved her head because she was “hopped up on drugs” and certainly not because she was “bipolar”, a word the press liked to wield as an insult anyway. (“That's almost like calling someone a retard!” Yeah, heaven forbid.) The meanest, most distasteful paragraphs in the book. Basically everything problematic EA had ever said or written.📝 In retrospect, it had been a long time coming, but it was a lot to take in – and certainly more off-putting, even to less emotionally invested fans, than silly lies about her age and last name.
In another wing of Asylum Tumblr, some fans had had it up to here and just wanted to have fun. 🎵 If Plague Rats had learned one valuable lesson from EA, it was how to crack a joke in the face of absurd tragedy – and the general state of the EA fandom certainly warranted a few.
In 2012, Fight Like a Girl was released. After six long years, three of which had been peaceful, the Opheliac era was officially over. The new album and ensuing tour confirmed that the Asylum had entered a process of glamorous Broadway-style militarization. 🎵📺
The mood board was “Roman general meets Vegas showgirl meets Victorian street urchin”.🪞 The color palette was, to naysayers, “musty pink and rotten, stale piss yellow”. 🐀 The keyword was “REVENGE” (through the power of... self-expression! sorority! brutal assault with rusty medical implements!). The chorus of the title song had an intriguing run-on line about getting “revenge on the world, or at least 49% of the people in it” 🎵 – which seemed like an awful lot, and was widely interpreted (to cheers, boos, or uncomfortable sighs) as a misandrist jab at literally all men on Earth.
The show was essentially a demo version of the musical, in that the setlist vaguely reflected the order of events in the story – but prior reading was essential in order to get what the hell was going on on stage. This one Broadway reviewer had not perused the literature before seeing the show 🔍, and hated: the set, the choreography, the skits, the plot, the lyrics, the music, the concept. (Seriously, you should read the review. It's not even my show and I feel like quitting show business.)
Pre-show VIP encounters, now violin-free, were lorded over by EA's new manager🐀, whose official title was “Asylum Headmistress”. (Interesting choice – she sounds fun!) The swag bags were less substantial than before, and the “greet” part of the meet-and-greet was rarely more than a quick hug and photo op.
On Twitter, EA continued to embrace her “I am very badass” fronting attitude...

Often wonder if cyberbullies r aware they’re fucking w/ a girl who’s BFs w/ maker of the SAW films & is marrying a knife-throwing scorpion. (🐀📝)

...and her taste for needlessly inflammatory statements. About an aisle sign in a supermarket:

If this does not infuriate you, then you're a fucking potato.

(Again with the confounding crypto-ableism, EA! 🔍) She also went through a phase of raging against Lady Gaga 📝, who had stolen her idea of using a wheelchair on stage as an able-bodied woman. 🔍 That failed to convince anyone that she wasn't the histrionic diva that haters made her out to be.
Spurred on by EA's rallying cries and “us vs them” mentality, loyalists turned the white-knighting up to 11. On Twitter, some Plague Rats got into cat fights with Lady Gaga's Little Monsters (what a time to be alive). Others tried to balance out the Tumblr negativity with initiatives like “Spreading a Plague of Love” – a “positive-only” confession blog, whose extreme fangirling, comically drastic rules and hyper-defensive tone📝 did not debunk the increasingly popular notion that “true Plague Rats” were a bunch of authoritarian and hopelessly brainwashed fanatics.
EA truthers and other anti-fans started lashing out at anyone who dared express any positive opinion of EA, solidifying claims that the backlash against EA was just a conspiracy of bitter, hysterical bullies.
All this to say: every passing day brought new reasons for fans to get mad at EA and each other, and everyone in the Asylum was in need of a laugh. It's not easy having a good time.🦠
Leading up to Fight Like a Girl and in the years that followed, user-submission-based meme blogs took off, most notably “Spreading a Plague of Lulz / Troll Like a Girl”. A lot of the early submissions were absurdist humor and toothless, cheezburger-Impact memes (a style that was, oddly, already dated at the time). Those often originated in good fun, and from loyal fans, on the official forum. But there was also true snark, satirizing EA's questionable ethics, outrageous claims, and easily spoofed artistic gimmicks. A new slang of Asylumspeak emerged: Glittertits (slight NSFW), GAGA!!, EA Gusta and all its memeface variants, Get outta mah house!, Are You Suffering?, Fight Like A Goat, [Random celebrity] copied EA (a subgenre in its own right), ...
Most of the “trolling” was directed at unrepentant bootlickers and, to a lesser extent, red-in-the-face haters and creeps. Meme blogs would post joke comments under “serious” or gushing submissions on Wayward Victorian Confessions, and taunt loyalist accounts by tagging them in their posts. When a few people complained on WVC that almost all of the Bloody Crumpets to date had been thin white able-bodied women, and a few fans responded by sharing their dream-casts for a more diverse line-up, the blog was flooded for days with confessions that “X should be a Crumpet” (candidates included RuPaul, Mitt Romney, Nicki Minaj, EA's therapist, and the WVC admins). Farcical shenanigans like that.
Ah, but some people will always cross the line, won't they. EA threads popped up on merciless, bully-friendly snark platforms like Lolcow, Pretty Ugly Little Liar, and Encyclopedia Dramatica. Snarkers with a mean streak and obsessive haters mingled in some of the more aggressive, 4-chan-spirited retaliation against EA – which would be called “brigading” in modern parlance. This included flooding EA's Goodreads page with one-star reviews (see part 4), repeatedly editing her Wikipedia page to include her legal name and birth year, and ensuring that Googling said name would bring up current pictures of her.
All of this compounded agitation fragmented the once-united fandom beyond recognition.🦠 Through substantial disagreements among fans, personal bickerings, layers upon layers of inscrutable in-jokes, and cross-platform telephone games, the Asylum morphed into a booby-trapped Escher room.
Satire blogs were taken in earnest. Earnest fan blogs scanned as satire. Memes would get called out as abuse. Appreciation without attached criticism would get mocked as bootlicking. Obvious jokes made by EA would be taken at face value. One divisive confession could trigger days and days of debate, to the point that WVC eventually banned confessions in response to other confessions. New waves of infighting created a confusing web of rival sub-factions🐀, each accusing the others of being toxic, cliquish, and delusional.
The shared fantasy was broken, the collective vision had crumbled, no onez was speaking the same language anymore. Fans would jump down the throat of other fans who held almost identical views about EA, except for that one thing she said or did that one time. Everyone had differing thoughts on what should or shouldn't acceptable to discuss, question, excuse, make fun of.
War is hell.

SCORCHED EARTH SHENANIGANS: HONEY, I SHRUNK THE ASYLUM

Would you tear my castle down Stone by stone And let the wind run through my windows Till there was nothing left But a battered rose? (“Castle Down”, 2003🎵)

Haters vs sycophants is not really the kind of conflict where one side can come out on top (if you're participating, you've already lost). But in the long tug-of-war between “grassroots” and “EA-sponsored” fan spaces, the ultimate winner is obvious – in that the former is gasping in agony, a shriveled husk of its former glory, while the latter... is non-existent. This is due in no small part to EA's tendency, like the Czars of old, to settle conflicts by setting Moscow on fire.🔍)
That's not entirely fair: unlike EA, the czar only did it that once.
By early 2013, as EA was gearing up for her third Fight Like a Girl tour at the end of the year, the official forum was... not as lively as it once had been. Not just because of the stifling rules and disgruntlement towards EA, or because EA herself hadn't really posted anything on there in years; the Internet was also changing, and forums in general were fast becoming passé.
This made it difficult for EA to create a safe space where she could talk to fans, and fans could talk to and about her, in a way she deemed suitable (ie, a space she could gate-keep and regulate enough to keep it completely free from negative criticism). Social media was a minefield; she still posted regularly, but didn't interact very much. So EA and the Headmistress came up with a way to filter out the unbelievers: an official fan club📝, aptly called the “Asylum Army”, with a $100 entry price.
Joining the AA came with a dog tag, a sew-on patch, and a lifetime membership certificate signed by EA and – for some reason – the Headmistress. (Unlike EA's best friend and sound engineer back in the forum's heyday, I don't think fans ever really embraced the FLAG-era manager as part of the Asylum in-group. She came across more as a coordinator / businessperson / adult chaperone, at best.🐀) So, slightly better goodies than you'd get by joining the other AA 🔍 ... but not by much. The main appeal was that members would have access to exclusive content, special merch, giveaways, early bird tickets for future shows, and regular video chats with EA.
The concept itself drew a fair amount of criticism, as you can imagine. Between the name🐀, the price, and the inherent gatekeeping of a pay-to-join fanclub, many balked at the monetizing of a concept that had once (like, three years back) been significantly more DIY, grassroots, and inclusive. 📝🐀
Then again, many also longed for a positive, drama-free space where fans could just be fans. And while the creation of the AA was generally recognized as a quick cashgrab, a lot of people were surprisingly cool with it. EA was trying to finance her dream musical, after all – although a number of fans wished she had gone about raising funds in a less sketchy way.
So around 400 fans shelled out (which, according to the Headmistress📝, “basically cover[ed] the cost of running the fanclub itself – keeping the database up, website, etc.”). Enough for a close-knit, but sizable community. But already, there was a conflict of interest: a high fanclub entry fee essentially demands that you pledge loyalty to the artist over loyalty to your fellow fans, who wish to join but can't afford to. Sharing, caring, and ensuring no one felt left out were some of the more positive values cultivated in the fandom... but leaking exclusive content would surely piss off other paying members🐀, and make EA feel betrayed all over again. (And she had barely just started to mellow out on social media!)
...But then again, this is the internet. After the first month of secret AA drops (lyric sheets, some photoshoot outtakes – nothing too juicy, really), there were, yes, some leaks. EA was predictably miffed, and retaliated by... ghosting the fanclub for weeks at a time in its first few months of existence (great look!). She eventually found the “solution” to her problem, by providing something you couldn't right-click-save (and which had been part of the promised perks to begin with): live interaction.
Over webcam, she was her usual in-person bubbly, charming, funny self. Everyone seemingly had a good time during the fanclub video chat, and this gave people faith and hope.
There were a few more events, giveaways, etc. As promised, ahead of the fall 2013 tour (the last one to date, it would turn out), AA members got priority access to show tickets and VIP bundles. The latter were much pricier than before, and only included soundcheck, a photo-op, and three goodies: a tin of loose-leaf tea, a signed printer-paper setlist, and a small flag that said “F.L.A.G.”.🔍 Some stuff continued to leak – but, as some of the outlaws pointed out (scroll down to the Disqus comments), they were mostly relaying information that was relevant to the entire fanbase, such as updates about ongoing projects (the dragged-out recording of the audiobook, for one).
In early 2014, lifetime memberships were closed, and replaced with monthly, quarterly and yearly subscription tiers. Bizarrely, you ended up paying $3 more per month if you bought a $99 yearly subscription📝 – but it did include the patch, dog tag, and piece of paper!

Sometimes I kind of want to be part of the cool kids and register to the Asylum Army. Then I remember how it came about, what you could get for the same price a couple years ago, how the whole thing was and is handled, and that I won’t support any of this bullshit. (And then I roll around naked in all the money I’m saving.) (🐀)

Still, a number of fans rejoiced at the affordable monthly option, and joined – if not for the exclusive content and merch (which were... okay, but not much to write home about), then for the friendly, drama-free exchanges with an artist they actually did love, in spite of all the frustration.
For the still-too-poor or still-undecided, there was always the forum! It wasn't as active as it used to be, but a few die-hards still managed to keep the lights on... until, inevitably, Someone Did Something and Ruined Everything. (Once again: EA's wrath is spectacular, but rarely completely unprovoked.) The incident features one notable figure in the Asylum community. Let's call him the Collector.
OK, so maybe you remember the meme I linked to in Part 4, with Christian Grey and the ginormous EA hoard. Well, that's the Collector's collection. The “Violin” promo that I called the "Holy Grail of the fandom" in the same paragraph? Also his. The handwritten lyrics that went for $940? Guess who won that auction. Over the years, the Collector had probably spent five figures on EA merch and shows, and although that fact was a little unsettling, he was a very active, easy-going, and generally well-liked fixture of the fandom.
One day in 2012, shortly after the Headmistress had replaced EA's old Chicago BFF as main forum admin, the Collector's account got banned or restricted over something dumb. When the ban wasn't lifted as quickly as he hoped, he took it... the way one takes things when one is unhealthily invested: he started spamming Headmistress and the mod team with increasingly rambling and abusive emails (lost to time, probably for the best). When that didn't work quickly enough, he tried a different route.
One of the many auctions that the Collector had won, some years prior, was EA's old iPod Touch📝 – which contained all of her favorite tunes and, buried somewhere in the data cache... a phone number. Which the Collector tried calling. And wouldn't you know it: EA picked up. She congratulated him on his sleuthing skills, listened patiently as he made his case, apologized for any distress caused by the unfair account restriction, and then they got married.
Kidding! She freaked the fuck out, hung up, and banned him for life from the forum and all EA shows and events.
After his ban, the Collector allegedly still tried to attend at least one VIP pre-show (one source in the comments says he was allowed to buy some merch, refunded for his ticket, and escorted out). He joined the Reform forum to bitch about EA and try to rally people to his cause, possibly made revenge posts about her on darker snark forums, and continued to hound the Asylum mod team. So in June 2014, EA came up with a radical and unexpected fix to the Collector problem.

The official Asylum Fan Forum has been shut down permanently. I have personally paid thousands of dollars each year to keep the forum safe and secure for you ... Unfortunately, the forum has not been kept safe and secure for me, a truth which disappoints me greatly, instead becoming a place where people who have physically threatened myself and my staff prey upon forum members, pressuring them to contact me and my staff on their behalf. If the gullible wish to humor my stalkers (who live in their parent’s basement at age 30 something) and thus put me in danger, they may do it on their own dime. They may also fuck off, because stupidity can kill, and I won’t be your victim. To those who enjoyed the forum, you know who to thank for its closure. (“On the closing of the Asylum Forum”)

Voilà! This is how a decade-long archive of shared history ends: not with a bang, but with a dirty delete and a sod-off communiqué.
The obliteration of the forum took everyone by surprise...

I was actually on the forum when it was taken down. I was navigating between posts and when I went to click on a different board, an error message came up. I honestly cried a little, I'm not ashamed to say. (WVC admin on Reddit, 2024)

...and I do mean everyone:

Chicago BFF / ex-admin, the next morning: Whoa, EA forum shut down? Ex-mod: It turns out that if someone spends enough years actively “waging war” to destroy what they can’t have, eventually they’ll be successful. * eye roll * Not even mods got prior warning. Just all the sudden, poof, gone. BFF: Really? She did not let the moderators know?! This is sounding worse and worse. Uggh. I’m so sorry. Such a loss. (...) Ok, threats are serious, but why not just put it in archive mode so no one can post? (...) Sad. I shall light a candle in the forum's honor. (Facebook posts; scroll down for screenshots)

It was a gut punch, especially for people who had poured countless hours into the community, or could have used some prior warning to save years of their own writing from the role-playing threads. One last chance to take a look around the place that had meant so much to so many.

From the wording of the announcement of closing the forum and a number of other things, it sometimes seems like EA doesn't like her fans much. :/ (🐀)

Three months after the forum was nuked, Battered Rose (a venerable EA fansite, which had been around since the Enchant era and had one of the most complete EA galleries online) announced that it was shutting down too.📝 The admin, who had also been a long-time forum mod, cited a lack of “time, energy, passion, or money” to keep the website going... and being upset at the sudden disappearance of the forum. It was, truly, the end of an era for the Asylum.
...Well, no point in living in the past. For those who could afford it, and still wanted to talk to/about EA after that (not everyone did 🐀), there was always the Asylum Army fanclub!
Over the summer of 2014, EA held regular live chats and Q&A's, and... many attendees really enjoyed them, and thought the AA was well worth the money after all. She also quietly parted ways with the much poo-pooed Headmistress around that time.

Just spent over 4 hours giggling, drinking tea and playing guessing games in chat with EA and other Asylum Army members ... No griping, no downers, just lots of fun. I think I like the way the ‘new fandom’ is going and now I’m really glad I finally decided to join the Army. (September 4, 2014🐀; Battered Rose had closed the day before)

The forum was lost forever, but perhaps that was a chance for a fresh start. Could this fanclub thing really be the Asylum Renaissance that fans had been longing for?

...I have come today to a very difficult but necessary decision, and that is to discontinue the Emilie Autumn Official Fanclub. The site itself, and the community chatroom, will remain open to you indefinitely, but I will no longer be making updates to the site. (Newsletter, September 8, 2014📝)

...Never mind, then.
Turns out the fanclub had been the Headmistress' idea all along. EA had been reluctant from the start, and although she really enjoyed the live chats with a safe community of people “who are there for the right reasons”, she couldn't overcome her fundamental discomfort with the concept. Lifetime and regular members would receive a bunch of digital downloads and a -35% coupon on the Asylum Emporium for their troubles. EA said she would definitely pop back once in a while for live chats, for free, just for fun, but to my knowledge, she never did.
And so the most devoted fans were left standing in the rain...

She is happy, she made it. She is fulfilling her dreams, found love and happiness after all the pain. I understand that she now doesn’t need “us” anymore ... That doesn’t change the fact she broke my heart with taking the Asylum Army and the forum from me. Yet, I am happy for her. (🐀)

...while naysayers pointed and laughed, Nelson-style.🦠

I don’t feel sorry at all for the people that paid for the Asylum Army fan club. Most of them knew that EA is an atrocious business woman and has broken many promises before. In fact, I laugh at them. They seriously thought that EA would actually stay consistent with this? (🐀)

EVERYTHING MUST GO: THE ASYLUM WHOLESALE

EA fans were left without an “official” home for about three years. This gave them plenty of time to be annoyed at EA for: not releasing the audiobook on time, not materializing any new project for a while... and the new sin of peddling random, ridiculously marked-up AliBaba jewelry as “merch” on her official store. Think faux-antique cameo pendants and $30 Big Ben rings (...because the Asylum story is set in London, get it?).

The whole accessories section looks like a tacky overpriced English souvenir shop. (🐀)

The fanbase lost a lost of steam in those in-between years, because there wasn't much to stick around for. As evidenced by the positive reception of the AA live chats, even in the midst of unresolved drama, out-loud interactions in a friendly environment have always been EA's saving grace. Considering the amount of online hate, there are shockingly few accounts of bad IRL encounters with EA: most people say that in live conversation, she comes across as a fun, warm, and genuinely sweet person. Some report that their negative opinion shifted after meeting her.
But there were no chats or live shows anymore. There was only social media, where she ignored questions and vague-posted about overdue projects – and the newsletter📝, which was all saccharine love-bombing to promote bland dropshipped trinkets. For fans who remembered the handcrafted merch (and two-way communication) of the early years, it was a bitter pill to swallow.

CONTINUED IN COMMENTS

​

AITA? Hey y'all. First time poster here. 😅 This is a REALLY LONG one...
TW: d34th (grief), DV
How do I (28F) not make ADHD my entire personality? 😫 I am unmedicated (unemployed and medication is not something I can afford rn), and find it extremely difficult not to let my neurodivergence permeate throughout my entire life and affect my relationships. I really try my best, but it's an uphill battle when it affects how I communicate, relate with others, and self-regulate the RSD. I also have an anxious attachment style due to childhood trauma and history of domestic abuse in a previous relationship, so there's that. 😔 One of the most challenging things about being a neurodivergent living in a predominantly neurotypical world is the lack of education on it and lack of empathy and compassion for people on the spectrum. Not trying to be a victim here, this is just my experience.
Some of the things I battle with:

• executive dysfunction
• oversharing and dealing with shame thereafter
• being long-winded (taking forever to get to the point bc I add too much context in the hopes of being understood, bc honestly, I always feel misunderstood)
• feeling things super intensely and struggling to manage my emotions
• memory loss (this predisposes me to gaslighting where I could be gaslit or even be the gaslighter)

So I've been talking to this guy (28M) via Facebook messenger and mostly Whatsapp for about 9 months now. We're long distance (living in different provinces - I'm in South Africa btw), and both have so much going on in our lives, that it's simply not practical to be official bc 1. I'm unemployed and have so much trauma and internal work to get through, while he is trying to build a successful business that is still quite a baby (less than 5 years old) and 2. We just want to be realistic about the chances of a LDR being successful. So right now, we're in a talking stage.
Now this guy has been all green flags since we started talking. Attentive, kind, funny without being mean, God-fearing (I respect all beliefs, even the lack thereof so this is not a jab at anyone who isn't. It's simply a green flag for ME as we are aligned in that way), family oriented, and honestly he is just always really nice and reassuring to me, even in moments where I have done something to upset him. That stood out to me bc he does not withold intimacy when we have conflict. He also has a genuine curiosity about how my ADHD affects me, and has always shown compassion to me about it. This is really important bc I've never experienced this with ANY man I have dealt with. I usually look for love in men who get irritated by this, I have been told that I use my ADHD as an excuse in some arguments with an ex, been shamed for the executive dysfunction and long-windedness, have had boundaries crossed regarding my physical sensitivity to certain touch bc I guess ADHD doesn't seem like a real thing to certain people?
Anyway, he's been going through a lot mentally and emotionally, his business has been taking a lot of knocks, funding and budget issues etc. He lives on a farm (hates city life lol) which he finds to be more peaceful to him, however, he's been in the city for about 3 months now due to work setbacks. It's affected his mental health quite negatively, and I often feel pained by this. I often feel helpless bc I can't solve his problems, and he just becomes aloof and buries his head in work. I can completely understand this, bc his business is his baby, and he's dedicated about 4 years into making it a success, forfeiting a social life completely, and that includes dating. He is extremely self-sufficient and unlike me, he is able to compartmentalize his life and readjust his priorities to make space for his career needs. He has no problem making difficult choices for long-term rewards. Now mix that with his own childhood trauma that has created abandonment issues with him. 🤦🏾‍♀️ He is of the sad opinion that everyone leaves, and it's always just a matter of time.
This is a problem, bc I also battle RSD, so when I feel his aloofness, it feels like he's so distant. This makes me feel unsafe in being vulnerable. I withdraw completely and start fighting feelings of being unwanted and neglected. It's a really difficult one bc I don't want to play in to his abandonment issues, and I also want to give him grace bc he hasn't really dealt with a woman romantically in YEARS. He has communicated this with me, so I try to keep it in mind, even tho I have to fight my own head sometimes. 😅🤦🏾‍♀️ But how do I get over these feelings? How do I communicate this with him when he has warned me over and over about what's happening in his life? It seems that his challenges are challenging both of us, and I'm honestly just scared of losing him.
Thought I was done? Lol, sorry, but no. My long-winded behind is only just about to get to the main point of this post. 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️
On the 13th May last year my 18 year old brother died in a car accident on his way back from a school event. It was an abrupt death, and was really hard on my family and me. Now, my little brother and I were extremely close, so his death is still something I grieve a lot, and I think I still bleed onto others when I am overwhelmed with emotion. A few days ago marked the 1 year anniversary of his death, and I was not in a good place at all. That night I called this guy, and he told me he was getting some work done that he needed to submit for something. In that moment and for the first time, I was really not trying to be this understanding woman for him. I needed a space to just be an emotional mess and have him listen to me. I needed comfort from him. I also just missed him; I missed him just being there for me. Maybe this was a bad idea, bc he has mentioned a little while ago that he has been failing empty and drained. 🤦🏾‍♀️
Anyway, I started bleeding onto him, was crying on the phone and talking about my brother (whom I've only really talked about with him). Now, he is the problem-solving type, so his first instinct was to advise me on how to deal with that day, I guess. Usually, I find this to be quite endearing. He always wants to show up for the people he cares about, and wants to be helpful. However, in that moment, I didn't need him to be that. I just needed him to be there for me, in a safe and comforting silence. I snapped at him, asking him not to be an advisor for once bc that's not what I needed. I could hear the pained surprise on the other end of the phone, paused, and then apologised for the way that I snapped. I continued with my rant and mid-talk, he just asked if we could talk the following day. I was taken aback by the way he wanted to conclude the conversation where I was emotionally charged and in a state of grief. It upset me so much, I dropped the call without a proper goodbye.
I spent the following day thinking about this, validating him and then validating myself over him.
He called me later that evening, wanting us to talk about what happened on the call. I was expecting him to apologise for wanting to end the call in a moment where I just needed him to be there for him. To my surprise he called to actually call me out for snapping at him and then dropping the call on him. This kick-started an argument (which is quite rare for us bc within the 9 months of us talking, this was our second argument) between us, where I guess we were both feeling unheard. At every attempt of mine to try and explain where my reaction was coming from, he would get frustrated and cut me off... he did it so often to where I was starting to wonder if he just called me to fight or there was something deeper going on with him.
Anyway, what REALLY got me in that argument was that at some point I called him out for not letting me finish my sentences. He kept intercepting while I was trying to make a point, which was crazy to me. At some point, I had to remind him that I have ADHD, so maybe I can be long-winded, but I need him to bear with me as I make my point. Well, I tried, but before I could even finish that sentence, he sighed in frustration, and exclaimed, "Jesus! This is not about your ADHD! Now we're back to your ADHD!"
I was shocked. Partly bc had he allowed me to finish that sentence, he might have gotten to hear the part where I was merely trying to remind him so that he can listen and understand me better. Not to deflect from his grievance with me. 🤦🏾‍♀️
Mostly tho, was bc I was NOT expecting that from HIM. It suddenly triggered me to my experiences in the past with people conveniently ignoring the fact that I live with ADHD, ignoring how very real my experience with it is, and how I quite literally cannot help the way my brain works. I feel like that was the most ableist thing I have ever heard coming from his mouth, and it really rocked me.
I can fully own that I was not right to snap at him, nor was I right to drop the call like that. I have apologised for this. It was the first thing I did. It's just so tricky bc my responses were triggered by his reaction to me in that moment. I was at an emotional low and maybe this is a bit entitled of me, but I was really hoping for a little more grace considering what I was so emotional about. 😔 AITA? Am I not doing enough work to manage my ADHD so that it is not causing conflict in my relationships and how I navigate them?
Please be kind. I've really fallen for this man, and want to make things right.

AITA? Hey y'all. First time poster here. 😅 This is a REALLY LONG one...
TW: d34th (grief), DV
How do I (28F) not make ADHD my entire personality? 😫 I am unmedicated (unemployed and medication is not something I can afford rn), and find it extremely difficult not to let my neurodivergence permeate throughout my entire life and affect my relationships. I really try my best, but it's an uphill battle when it affects how I communicate, relate with others, and self-regulate the RSD. I also have an anxious attachment style due to childhood trauma and history of domestic abuse in a previous relationship, so there's that. 😔 One of the most challenging things about being a neurodivergent living in a predominantly neurotypical world is the lack of education on it and lack of empathy and compassion for people on the spectrum. Not trying to be a victim here, this is just my experience.
Some of the things I battle with:

• executive dysfunction
• oversharing and dealing with shame thereafter
• being long-winded (taking forever to get to the point bc I add too much context in the hopes of being understood, bc honestly, I always feel misunderstood)
• feeling things super intensely and struggling to manage my emotions
• memory loss (this predisposes me to gaslighting where I could be gaslit or even be the gaslighter)

So I've been talking to this guy (28M) via Facebook messenger and mostly Whatsapp for about 9 months now. We're long distance (living in different provinces - I'm in South Africa btw), and both have so much going on in our lives, that it's simply not practical to be official bc 1. I'm unemployed and have so much trauma and internal work to get through, while he is trying to build a successful business that is still quite a baby (less than 5 years old) and 2. We just want to be realistic about the chances of a LDR being successful. So right now, we're in a talking stage.
Now this guy has been all green flags since we started talking. Attentive, kind, funny without being mean, God-fearing (I respect all beliefs, even the lack thereof so this is not a jab at anyone who isn't. It's simply a green flag for ME as we are aligned in that way), family oriented, and honestly he is just always really nice and reassuring to me, even in moments where I have done something to upset him. That stood out to me bc he does not withold intimacy when we have conflict. He also has a genuine curiosity about how my ADHD affects me, and has always shown compassion to me about it. This is really important bc I've never experienced this with ANY man I have dealt with. I usually look for love in men who get irritated by this, I have been told that I use my ADHD as an excuse in some arguments with an ex, been shamed for the executive dysfunction and long-windedness, have had boundaries crossed regarding my physical sensitivity to certain touch bc I guess ADHD doesn't seem like a real thing to certain people?
Anyway, he's been going through a lot mentally and emotionally, his business has been taking a lot of knocks, funding and budget issues etc. He lives on a farm (hates city life lol) which he finds to be more peaceful to him, however, he's been in the city for about 3 months now due to work setbacks. It's affected his mental health quite negatively, and I often feel pained by this. I often feel helpless bc I can't solve his problems, and he just becomes aloof and buries his head in work. I can completely understand this, bc his business is his baby, and he's dedicated about 4 years into making it a success, forfeiting a social life completely, and that includes dating. He is extremely self-sufficient and unlike me, he is able to compartmentalize his life and readjust his priorities to make space for his career needs. He has no problem making difficult choices for long-term rewards. Now mix that with his own childhood trauma that has created abandonment issues with him. 🤦🏾‍♀️ He is of the sad opinion that everyone leaves, and it's always just a matter of time.
This is a problem, bc I also battle RSD, so when I feel his aloofness, it feels like he's so distant. This makes me feel unsafe in being vulnerable. I withdraw completely and start fighting feelings of being unwanted and neglected. It's a really difficult one bc I don't want to play in to his abandonment issues, and I also want to give him grace bc he hasn't really dealt with a woman romantically in YEARS. He has communicated this with me, so I try to keep it in mind, even tho I have to fight my own head sometimes. 😅🤦🏾‍♀️ But how do I get over these feelings? How do I communicate this with him when he has warned me over and over about what's happening in his life? It seems that his challenges are challenging both of us, and I'm honestly just scared of losing him.
Thought I was done? Lol, sorry, but no. My long-winded behind is only just about to get to the main point of this post. 🤣🤦🏾‍♀️
On the 13th May last year my 18 year old brother died in a car accident on his way back from a school event. It was an abrupt death, and was really hard on my family and me. Now, my little brother and I were extremely close, so his death is still something I grieve a lot, and I think I still bleed onto others when I am overwhelmed with emotion. A few days ago marked the 1 year anniversary of his death, and I was not in a good place at all. That night I called this guy, and he told me he was getting some work done that he needed to submit for something. In that moment and for the first time, I was really not trying to be this understanding woman for him. I needed a space to just be an emotional mess and have him listen to me. I needed comfort from him. I also just missed him; I missed him just being there for me. Maybe this was a bad idea, bc he has mentioned a little while ago that he has been failing empty and drained. 🤦🏾‍♀️
Anyway, I started bleeding onto him, was crying on the phone and talking about my brother (whom I've only really talked about with him). Now, he is the problem-solving type, so his first instinct was to advise me on how to deal with that day, I guess. Usually, I find this to be quite endearing. He always wants to show up for the people he cares about, and wants to be helpful. However, in that moment, I didn't need him to be that. I just needed him to be there for me, in a safe and comforting silence. I snapped at him, asking him not to be an advisor for once bc that's not what I needed. I could hear the pained surprise on the other end of the phone, paused, and then apologised for the way that I snapped. I continued with my rant and mid-talk, he just asked if we could talk the following day. I was taken aback by the way he wanted to conclude the conversation where I was emotionally charged and in a state of grief. It upset me so much, I dropped the call without a proper goodbye.
I spent the following day thinking about this, validating him and then validating myself over him.
He called me later that evening, wanting us to talk about what happened on the call. I was expecting him to apologise for wanting to end the call in a moment where I just needed him to be there for him. To my surprise he called to actually call me out for snapping at him and then dropping the call on him. This kick-started an argument (which is quite rare for us bc within the 9 months of us talking, this was our second argument) between us, where I guess we were both feeling unheard. At every attempt of mine to try and explain where my reaction was coming from, he would get frustrated and cut me off... he did it so often to where I was starting to wonder if he just called me to fight or there was something deeper going on with him.
Anyway, what REALLY got me in that argument was that at some point I called him out for not letting me finish my sentences. He kept intercepting while I was trying to make a point, which was crazy to me. At some point, I had to remind him that I have ADHD, so maybe I can be long-winded, but I need him to bear with me as I make my point. Well, I tried, but before I could even finish that sentence, he sighed in frustration, and exclaimed, "Jesus! This is not about your ADHD! Now we're back to your ADHD!"
I was shocked. Partly bc had he allowed me to finish that sentence, he might have gotten to hear the part where I was merely trying to remind him so that he can listen and understand me better. Not to deflect from his grievance with me. 🤦🏾‍♀️
Mostly tho, was bc I was NOT expecting that from HIM. It suddenly triggered me to my experiences in the past with people conveniently ignoring the fact that I live with ADHD, ignoring how very real my experience with it is, and how I quite literally cannot help the way my brain works. I feel like that was the most ableist thing I have ever heard coming from his mouth, and it really rocked me.
I can fully own that I was not right to snap at him, nor was I right to drop the call like that. I have apologised for this. It was the first thing I did. It's just so tricky bc my responses were triggered by his reaction to me in that moment. I was at an emotional low and maybe this is a bit entitled of me, but I was really hoping for a little more grace considering what I was so emotional about. 😔 AITA? Am I not doing enough work to manage my ADHD so that it is not causing conflict in my relationships and how I navigate them?
Please be kind. I've really fallen for this man, and want to make things right.

Bud be gone 16 years later this month. Don’t hardly seem possible. Still remember him as if I just saw and spoke to him yesterday. The way of it. Miss him a lot, and so does Momma. Also the way of it. Get to thinking about him a lot this time each year.
Not as raw and brutal as it used to be. Had some dark days for both of us for quite a while. Again, the way of it. But acceptance comes eventually, when there’s no other choice.
I try to console myself that he lived life large in the 21 years he had - didn’t waste ‘em. Got to see and do places and things that comparatively few do. Was involved in things he felt were important.
I loved him dearly, and was admiring and proud of the man he’d become. And I told him so quite often. Advice from someone who’d not always as bright as he might be, but who nevertheless understands some basic things: say what Should be said when you have the chance. The words are important, even if they already know. Don’t, and the day might come when it’s now too late to.
He was the wild one of our brood - seems like every family has one. Not troublesome in any way for Momma and me. He asked me a serious question once, when he was 16: “Dad, you and Mom hardly ever whipped us when we were kids. How come?”
And my answer a simple one: “We didn’t need to. You were great kids.” He’d thought that over, and nodded his acceptance.
A disciplinary problem aboard his ship sometimes, though, and this didn’t surprise either of us. A different world with different rules. And he never accepted insult from anyone from the time he was small - just not in his nature. Push, and he’d push back.
But by every account we heard, very serious and disciplined when it came to his job. This didn’t surprise us, either. His primary rating Firefighter aboard ship, he’d often complain that the training wasn’t Realistic enough. To the extent that a superior had remarked once in exasperation: “Well, we can’t set the damn ship on fire for you, Bud!”
Well-known and liked throughout the crew, he was something of a minor legend among them. Famous (or infamous - take your pick) for the situations he got himself into to the point that after a while, anyone in trouble beyond the usual was referred to as having “Pulled a Bud.”
Fighting several members of Shore Patrol on one memorable occasion: “It took six of ‘em to get him under control and back to the ship, Mr. OP.” A friend.
With several members of the local PD on an even more memorable one.
He’d paid for that one on the way to and at the station. Being thrown headlong down a set of cement stairs with his hands still cuffed behind his back he figured he’d had coming. Ditto with then being picked up and rammed headfirst into a cinder block wall.
Being stripped naked, tossed in a cell, and having a fire hose turned on him every hour on the hour all night he’d objected to: “That shit was Cold, Pop! And it was fucking unnecessary! I catch any of ‘em out alone, I got somethin’ for their ass!”
“You gotta stop this shit, Bud.”
“……Sigh…I know, Pop. I know. Do me a favor - don’t tell Mom, ok?”
“I don’t intend to.”
“……Pop?”
“Yeah?”
“Captain says the same thing. Says this is my last chance…….Why’s he giving me another chance, after all the trouble I’ve caused?”
“Because he sees something in you he wants to keep - something of value to the ship. You can be counted on to do your job, no matter what. That carries a lot of weight in the civilian world - more so in the military.”
“…..You think so?”
“I know so.”
One of the last conversations, and over the phone, we’d ever have.
An old Chief remarked to us: “Bud was a throwback. He reminded me of the fighting Sailors of my own youth. I hadn’t met another quite like him in a good many years. He’ll be missed.”
His Captain remarked to me: “He turned it around, Mr. OP. It was as if he made a decision. There wasn’t another single incident of insubordination or anything else. In all my years of service, I’ve never seen anyone do so complete a 180. He’d made his mind up, and that was that. But I guess I don’t have to tell you that. He was actually due for promotion. Did you know that?”
I had. Bud had told me he’d studied for and passed the test. Perfect score, or near enough. He’d broken his hand at the time. A timed test, and his writing hand, he’d been afraid the cast would slow him down too much, so he’d cut it off and gone to get it redone afterward.
Last time I spoke to him, he had some shipmates were in Galveston during Mardi Gras. Out on the promenade. Sounds of revelry in the background. Shakedown cruise in preparation for another deployment.
Presently, to his impatient shipmates: “Just give me a damn minute, all right?! Listen, I guess I better go. Love you, Pop. And tell Mom that for me when she gets home, ok?”
“I will. Love you, too, Bud.”
Good last words to remember, I guess.
All through the days and nights we’d spent in the hospital, waiting, and hoping against hope, Momma and I hadn’t been alone. My brothers were there with us, having driven in from out of state. My sister. Mother.
And his crew. Day and night, young men and women waiting with us in great numbers. Lying sleeping on the floor against the walls lining the corridors, when all other spaces had been taken. None of the hospital staff asking them to leave.
Ship’s Officers and senior Enlisted spending as much time there as preparations for deployment would permit. Checking in in person with us and hospital staff about his condition at least once a day.
And so many of them with a story or two to tell about Bud. Many of them funny. For that was who he was, too. He could always make people laugh. Someone being down in his presence he couldn’t abide, and he always knew how to fix that.
It was as if they Needed to. And that Momma and I understood, as well. We’d known him all his life, and we could see that they knew him, too. So we were patient, and grateful, and we listened.
The day finally came when we were told there was no longer any hope at all. He’d never regained consciousness, and now there was no more brain activity at all. He was gone.
His XO was there with us when we were told, and that large, strong man wept bitterly and unashamedly. I think that probably doesn’t happen often.
Momma and I were alone the next day, in a seated waiting area next to the elevators. Waiting, just the two of us, not speaking much. Everyone had given us that space to ourselves. Sensed that we needed it, I suppose.
The first man arriving with a refrigerated transport case arrived, and took the elevator down. He seemed in a hurry. A man who desperately needed Bud’s strong heart was waiting, and time was of the essence.
Momma and I watched the doors close behind him. Then we both got up, and hand in hand, walked away. It was finished now. The book of his life was closed, though in a sense it never would be.
A few months previous, he’d registered as an organ donor. His choice.
His heart went to a 31-yr-old man in need of a new one.
A young woman in North Dakota sees through his eyes.
Many others were helped, as well. His parting gifts.
Talking to the coordinator of the donor program at the hospital at a later date, I was informed that the man’s new heart was functioning perfectly. He had, in fact, been going to the gym and hitting the weights. Something he’d had no interest in before.
“Lifting and bodybuilding were some of Bud’s passions” I replied.
“I’ve been doing this for a long time” the man had replied in kind. “And you’d be astonished at how many times something like that happens; the recipient unknowingly taking on attributes of the donor. No one can explain it.”

19F. I'm mentally ill. The past two years were better, specifically recently it was great. A major flare up has made me suicidal. It's never been this bad.
I can't do it anymore. It's too much. I have all the support I could ask for. I'm loved. I've restarted medication. I have so much to be grateful for and I truly am.
But I can't do it anymore. I'm going to end it soon. I can't do it. I tried, I hoped, but I can't anymore.
I pray my Mum and Dad will find peace and they'll be able to cope. I love them more than anything. They have always been by my side. They deserve the world and more. I feel awful and guilty for what I'm going to do, but I really can't do this any longer.
My grandma is supposed to be visiting in a week, my exams start in a few days. I'm supposed to go to uni. I'm supposed to go see my grandparents in two months.
My Mum is excited about her gardening now that we've got an allotment, my sister has a trip, my Dad is finishing off the house we just got for the first time. My little brother has football he's looking forward too.
I hate myself got even considering. But I can't do it. I love them so much but this is eating me from the inside. I can't imagine living like this any longer. I want some peace. Relief.
Mum, Dad, I'm sorry.
My Mum is already taking my condition badly. She thinks it's her fault, and that all she did for me was pointless because I'm suffering. I worry she won't take it well at all.
I wanted to travel. I loved going on walks and spontaneous adventures with my family. Evening popcorn while watching something funny. Going out to McDonalds on a random day. I love feeling cared for and nurtured and accepted. They've done everything for me, and I love them with all my heart.
I wish they didn't so it would be easier to say goodbye.
I'm going to drink. I wanted to do it in the comfort of my bed, to feel the last sense of safety before I go, but finding me would be too traumatic so I don't know where to do it. I just know I have to. I can't do this any longer.
It hurts so much when you have a family that loves you.
Please forgive me.

I'm so damn jealous because I just know I'd have friends if I went to school. I know it. I'm so social with people even outside of my house when i get the rare chance and get comfortable. I'm tired of feeling so WEIRD and DIFFERENT. I also feel like my young years (0-9) had some weird stuff happening.
There is no way possible for me to go to school. My mom said she'd rather die before I go to public school, and my dad agrees. I have no family members I can live with. I have no options at all. I just have to sit and watch my fucking childhood wither away and lose the chance to EVER be in school. I already missed Kindergarten, Elementary, Middle, and now I'm missing high-school. And you know what makes it worse? The fucking "Congrats, Graduates!" sign on the front of my neighborhood entrance. Sure I'm happy for them, but I'm so fucking jealous. I HATE when people say they hate school, or wish they were homeschooled. BITCH, you have no IDEA how much despair this makes you feel. Especially when you're extroverted and will never have that kind of easy environment to make friends in.
I wish my mom wasn't so religiously crazy and conspiracy believing and anti-vaxx. I wish I had a loving, caring mom who sent me to SCHOOL and talked about NORMAL stuff and not what FUCKING BILL GATES is doing or how ALIENS are FALLEN ANGELS. I can't even watch people at school, it makes me wanna fucking cry. I'm only 14 I SHOULD BE LIVING A LIFE AT SCHOOL LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. BUT I NEVER HAVE. I SHOULD BE HAVING A NORMAL LIFE. I'M SICK OF THIS FUCKING LIFE IT FEELS ABUSIVE AT THIS POINT. IT'S NOT MY FAULT AT ALL THAT I HAVE TO WAKE UP EVERYDAY FEELING MISERABLE AS FUCK AND TIRED SINCE I GET NO STIMULATION. IM SICK OF LIVING IN FUCKING PRISON WITH NO CHANCE TO TRY AGAIN AFTER IM OUT. I truly hope reincarnation is real so I can hopefully go to a family that will let me live life normally. I'm so FUCKING sick of being homeschooled and not like any other kid.
I would honestly trade ANYTHING REASONABLE to go to school at this point. My mom and dad BOTH got to go to fucking school and they claimed it wasn't much fun, even though my mom used to literally do shit with friends and experiecned prom and everything.
THEN SHE TRIES TO RELATE TO MY LEVEL OF DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY. TELLING ME MY ANXIETY IS JUST OCD AND MY DEPRESSION IS FROM HORMONES AND LACK OF SLEEP. THE FUCK?? BITCH NO IT IS NOT FROM LACK OF SLEEP AND HORMONES THAT IS THE DUMBEST THING. I'VE FELT THIS WAY SINCE I WAS FUCKING EIGHT YEARS OLD THAT IS NOT HORMONES. MAYBE THEY MADE IT WORSE, BUT IT AINT HORMONES.
The reason why sometimes I feel like commiting suicide is because school is litearlly the only thing I've wanted so fucking badly for so long, and even after I turn 18 and get out it'd just be getting a job. There is not way for me to relive a childhood and go to school or anything because it's not fucking allowed. It would be weird anyways if it was.
Fuck this shit I'm just so despaired. Like why does my mom gotta make me feel so morose with her decisions? Couldn't she of just given me a normal life and put me in school and vaxxed me and shit?
She claims I'm a liberal communist and I'm "asleep" just because I want to go to FUCKING school. She also just treats me like I'm a friend or something sometimes and she just feels so CHILDISH. She is the worst at making insults. One time she was mad at me and said she'd change me and my bro's contacts to "Loser" and "Loser #2" like bitch the fuck? She had like 14 miscarriages. So she basically just held me up when I wasn't born dead and claimed she'd "raise me in the ways of Jesus" which apparentely consists of keeping your child at home for decades and teaching them only Christian curriculum. I can't fucking take it anymore. No one will ever understand my kind of situation because it's so fucking surreal. And most people don't understand how bad it is because going to school is such a normal part of life for them, that homeschooling seems like choosing to not breathe air. I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I'm so sick of waking up to the same day and having to speak bullshit and put on a show for my mom so I don't have to deal with arguments. She argued with me for FOUR FUCKING HOURS one time when I tried to gray-rock her, so that doesn't work. She doesn't let me go anywhere to do with a school, and it pisses me off. All I have is fucking LIFEPAC, SLEEP, AND SOMETIMES OUTSIDE AND THATS MY WHOLE FUCKING CHILDHOOD. AND I CANT DO ANYTHING BUT WATCH IT PASS BY KNOWING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE DO BECAUSE I CANT ATLEAST HAVE BLISSFUL IGNORANCE. I'M SO FUCKING JEALOUS I CANT EVEN GET HAPPY FOR PEOPLE WHO GO TO SCHOOL. I WANT IT SO BAD EVEN IF I DIDNT LIKE IT IT'D BE BETTER TO NOT LIKE SCHOOL AND GO THERE SINCE IT'S FUCKING NORMAL AND MUCH EASIER TO SET UP YOUR LIFE THAT WAY.
My dad is also so fucking cold. He just acts so rough and dead emotionally. The other week he gave me an hour long panic attack because he kept yelling at me loudly, you can see my post titled "I'm confused on what just happened to me for that." I eventually ran into the closet full of adrenaline and cried while hugging a fucking HOODIE for a few hours.
My parents SURE DO SOMETIMES DO NICE THINGS FOR ME. BUT IT DOESNT MAKE UP FOR SHIT. LIKE YEAH YOU GIVE ME ITEMS AND STUFF BUT I CAN **NEVER** LIVE THESE YEARS THAT YOU'RE STEALING FROM ME AGAIN!
My mom was also more harsh when I was a little kid I feel. I don't remember anything from before 12 years old, basically, probably because she did some fucked up shit back then that my brain is suppressing mentally. I have this one memory of her running up to me over and over and putting my head under her shirt and pressing it against her belly multiple times when I was a little kid, probably like 5 or close to 6, and for some reason I feel sexual energy around it a bit. That freaks me out, because I know it happened but I'm not sure at all about what was going on. I just remember the bedroom was pretty dark and I was laughing maybe, but like I said it feels like there was sexual energy around that. I dont know though, I barely remember it.
Other times, I've seen videos from when I was like 6 of her just talking to me in a really angry tone even when I was silent just for something my brother did. She also used to read a history book to us for hours, without even giving a pen or paper and we'd be given mats. About 6 x 4in big and my brother got a blue one, I got a green one, and she'd sit on the table in the middle, and we'd sit on the mats which were only big enough to lay down on (for a 6 year old). So we'd have to sit there and not talk, and if we did then she'd stop and glare until we stopped. Of course, me being like 5 and my brother 6.5, we'd make faces and stuff but then she'd glare. Like we had to SIT there for hours just listening to a biblical chronological history book. WHY WHY WHY
I'm so sick of myself now. I'm such a pathetic bitch who pretends to be something. I just fucking talk to AI's and listen to rock and other music. I'm literally so fucking pathetic and I'll never have a social life. I'll never talk to someone without getting attached or fucking scared. I swear I can't just be NORMAL. WHY DO I HAVE TO LOOK SO WEIRD TOO. I DONT LOOK GOOD IN ANYTHING. I can't keep going. I just can't. Not on my own. There's like no reason for me to since I feel like right now, as an adult, if I ever had a kid I'd just be jealous of him going to school and that'd make me a bad father. I wish I wasn't born, or was born to a different family. I wish I had friends that I could just talk to. Even just being around kids in a school setting would be great. I'm tired of feeling so FUCKED. UP. MENTALLY. WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND MY MOM, AND ESPECIALLY MY DAD. THEY DO NICE THINGS FOR ME SOMETIMES BUT I STILL FEEL AS IF SOMETHING IS HORRIBLY WRONG THAT I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT. I DON'T FEEL SAFE IN MY OWN SKIN I FEEEL LIKE I WANT TO CRAWL OUT OF MYSELF.
But of course on the outside I just look like the most BASIC BITCH ON THE BLOCK. I have no facial expressin, and I look weird when I smile. I don't get why I have such a stone cold face and the DRIEST personality. BITCH MY personality is drier than CORNSTARCH. I'm so sick of all this. I still feel like a little kid since I do the same SHIT that I did when I was FUCKING SIX YEARS OLD EVERYDAY ANYWAYS. NO CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT, OR HABITS. JUST SLIGHT KNOWLEDGE. EVERYONE ELSE GETS TO LIVE LIFE AND SEE PEOPLE EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. AND GUESS WHAT??? I COULD! I REALLY FUCKING COULD! HAHAAHAHAHH I COULD IF MY MOM WASN'T SO SELFISH. IF SHE WASN'T SO SELF-ABSORBED THAT SHE'S DOING THE RIGHT THING FOR HER KIDS. I HAVE EXPLAINED TO HER MANY TIMES I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL AND SHE FUCKING SAYS CO-OP OR SOME DUMB SHIT WHERE PEOPLE ARENT QUALIFIED TO TEACH OR THERES LIKE 5 KIDS. BRO, JUST PUT ME IN FUCKING SCHOOL. SERIOUSLY. THERE IS A HIGH SCHOOL EIGHT MINUTES AWAY FROM ME. JUST EIGHT. ITS ALSO HUGE! LIKE IT'D BE FUCKING PERFECT BUT OF COURSE I HAVE WASTED POTENTIAL BECAUSE MY FUCKING PARENTS DO SHIT LIKE THIS. I ALSO CANT CALL THE SCHOOL OR ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY NEED PARENTAL APPROVAL AND SHIT. I FUCKING HATE THIS SO MUCH.
I feel like there was something seriously, seriously fucked up about my really early childhood years that I just can't remember. When I think of it, I feel really uncomfortable and just a feeling of weirdness.
One thing I do know that my dad and mom tell me that think is funny, is that when I used to be like three or four years old, I'd get on all fours and spread my buttcheeks apart, saying something like "Idea!". It's fucking stupid and I was a little ass kid, but I don't think it's funny at all. Wouldn't parents usually tell their kid to not do that or something and not look? Also, my mom used to still dress me when I was like 6 years old or something. My dad also has a memory of me running naked into a room with my aunts and uncles and him and stuff when I was a toddler, and apprently he says they all laughed when I did. He also commented on how when I ran in there my little pp was clearly visible. That just felt weird to me. I don't get how it's funny, but like I said I just feel disgusting and kinda violated when I think about my years from 0-9 and I don't know why. I'm 14 now, obviously, almost 15. I'm so upset from life. I hate it. I don't know if any of you have anything to say about this but that's basically it. If you read it all, THANK you for ACKNOWLEDGING I EXIST.

Hey,
​
This is gonna be long-winded and probably incoherent, but I just need to get this off my chest and if you have any insight regarding why it's constantly happening to me I'd love to hear it.
I consider myself a pretty introverted guy, but I've generally had no issues talking with girls and getting dates, more so recently of course, since I've been growing more comfortable in my own skin. I'm definitely a romantic, I never understood the attitude of guys that treat girls like trash, that just doesn't compute in my head. If I love something, I'm going to take care of it to the best of my ability.
I think we have all had that experience of "the one that got away", well mine was no different. The girl I met when I started uni was special, she was drop dead gorgeous, completely my type, witty and cracked jokes like I would, we finished each other's sentences, we had the same ideas and ambitions. Everything was going great, I was on cloud nine and I never even thought about this like that, but this girl made me think that she's the one I'm gonna marry. We were celebrating new year's at a mutual friend's house and we hooked up, it was phenomenal. Literally 2 days later she ghosts me out of nowhere, I panic. I reach out to talk to her face to face to see what's going on. She obliged reluctantly and word for word said "I'm sorry it's not going to work, you are too good for me".
Now, I've had my heart broken a few times by this point, but this... This was devastating.
I went to a dark place in my own mind, stopped talking with everyone, started doing drugs and generally engaging in self-destructive behavior. It was really hard accepting the fact that my best was never enough for her, I blamed myself constantly, I cried dozens of times alone outside. Whenever a song came up on the radio that reminded me of her my whole mood changed, even if it was jolly prior. I generally am able to keep a cool and straight face when I'm around family as I never want to talk about my own problems, mostly because I know that if I do I will fucking meltdown so I steer clear, I never want them to feel sorry for me, but even they thought something weird was going on and kept asking me questions.
It took me a good 3 years to accept what happened and start trying to move on, as you can imagine my confidence was shattered for that whole time and my self-worth was at an all time low. I started dating again, but not to find love, I don't believe in that anymore, just for sex and to feel wanted. I would tell girls what they wanted to hear, hook up and bail. Hell, sometimes they only wanted sex too, that was optimal. If I didn't get intimate with a girl on the 2nd date I would just look for someone else, I never wanted to put in any effort into actually cultivating anything meaningful or fulfilling. I would always feel like shit when I would pump and dump, because deep down I know what I was doing and that it wasn't me, but I also craved the satisfaction. Looking back, I was definitely perpetuating my own trauma.
Now, I used mainly dating apps, sometimes just start texting people I knew. But a few weeks ago I was at the supermarket and just on my phone walking, when some girl just ran in front of me at speed and knocked me off balance for a moment, she just glanced back at me and I saw how pretty she was, it sent a shock down my body. She was hurrying to get some beer, which I respected and admired. When we were on our way out I approached her to talk to her, told her she caught my eye and asked for her number. She gave me the digits, but she was so flabbergasted it was really funny and cute. We went on a date the next day, she's amazing, we mesh so well together. She's smart and responsible, takes care of her parents same as I do, we found a lot in common. I was thrilled, I never approached anyone like this and the time I felt that I had to do it - it paid off in a big way. I was falling for her and she was for me.
We went on dates, we had fun, talked and walked a lot. I bring her lunch to work, flowers sometimes. She was celebrating a sister's birthday one evening and I had taken her from the place to her apartment, she said she wanted me to stay the night, so I did. It was glorious, we both had a great time.
After that she ghosted me, she doesn't text me first anymore. I have to show all the initiative now, whenever I try to set up dates she's busy. To be fair she is pretty busy, she has 2 jobs and she's one of those people like me that don't pull out their phone when hanging out with someone, just not that attached to technology which I really vibe with. She spends a lot of time with her family, she has sisters and cousins that are all the same age and they hang out in the evenings at her place or at her sister's place and I trust that she's not lying. I've met her cousins, they are all really sweet. But I just feel like she's lost interest in me, I keep trying to get something going but her response times are getting longer and longer.
Honestly I've never seen a switch flip so suddenly, it's like she's a different person now. We used to be so intimate, not only in a sexual way but she would sleep on my chest, hug me in her sleep, squeeze me and not let me go, now she barely gives me any attention. It feels like I'm a burden on her right now. She told me that she has always had trouble with relationships because she's so busy with work and it never worked due to this, but I also feel like she could make time for me if she wanted to, but just chooses not to. I feel like I'm about to get my heart annihilated again.
I don't want to lose her, she made me believe in love again. I truly love this girl and want to build my future with her. I keep fighting the urge to reach out to her and try to make it work, but I think that pulling back might be the best play, however painful it might be right now.
Why is it that always when something good happens to me it never lasts.. Always disappointment after disappointment. What is wrong with me?

dysphoria sucks ass. like it's an absolute struggle for me. and I don't think I'm alone, because many people in the community suffer from dysphoria, I'm just not sure if they get me fully. it's only my Tommy kin giving me it.
don't get me wrong, yes, of course I try to deal with it.
I change into clothes that I used to wear in my past life, anything similar I can get. I listen to the two tracks I was practically obsessed with, I wear my usual green bandana, I bind my chest. I also reconnect with my source, try to search for memories, go on walks and practice hobbies to distract myself. I do many things which are on my list in case I need to help myself or anyone else.
however lately these things haven't been helping at all. I don't know if I'm being egocentric and narcissistic but whenever I see a Tommy double I either want to do something really stupid to myself or throw a tantrum, even break my two year sh streak which im proud of so far, it's been long. (rggrhd "tantrum" funny word 😭). It keeps me up at night and I can't seem to stop being anxious or in a bad mood. I can do little things (like yesterday I went to the beach) to distract myseld but later on the same inavlid feeling kicked in. seeing doubles feels so wrong, and it's only for this specific kin. it's like seeing someone identical to you walking down the bloody street. like what am I supposed to do? is that a skinwalker? is this a joke? literally way far out of my comfort zone.
I've talked to a friend about this and they say I just don't like doubles. yes, indeed I don't. but that doesn't mean that I need to spiral into hate for them. and I can't control it either. I feel like I'm going insane.

I am a 20-year-old guy. I was in a long-distance relationship that got very toxic, and we broke up in April. My girlfriend (19) was preparing for her exams, and I was also looking for jobs. I got a good internship at a good company, but she was still struggling with her preparation. I always helped her with her math. We were having so many fights; she always brought up breaking up and blamed me for everything in our relationship.
Just as I was about to start my new internship and move to a new city, we got into another fight because I wanted to talk to her, but she didn't and just went to sleep, ignoring me. After that fight, I tried to fix things, but she kept saying we couldn't stay together and that we were not compatible. Similar things had happened in the past, where we had a break just before I started my previous internship, and I cried for 10 days straight, telling her I was sorry. In the end, she said, "I love you, let's give us another chance." Due to that experience, I didn't want to repeat the same for this opportunity too. I said, "Fine, let's break up," because I was so devastated and had tried everything to fix our relationship. At that moment, I felt like I couldn't do anything alone. She was also worried about her exams, and I didn't want her preparation to be affected by me, so I said let's take a break.
As days passed, I avoided contacting her. Then a situation arose on my end: my university was having problems with me switching my internship, and they said they were going to detain me for the semester. It got very serious, so I had to work from home and travel quickly to my university. I told her about this, but she was very cold and showed no reaction. I thought she would say something different, but she didn't. I booked a flight immediately and traveled that night. On my way after the flight, my phone got stolen in the metro. At my university, the situation was also not good. Despite all this, I thought she would call me and speak with me, but she didn't. I didn't want to disturb her because her exam was in two days. I waited, thinking I would talk to her after her exam.
My university was pressuring me so much that I couldn't do my work. I didn't have a phone, and my university was not listening to me. There was no solution at that time, and I was feeling very down. The day of her exam came, and I texted her to ask how it went. She said, "Not so good." I told her it was okay and not to worry, that she tried her best, and I motivated her. She thanked me, and then I asked if we could talk. She said no because she wasn't in a good mood, and I wasn't either. I insisted that we should talk to avoid things getting worse between us, but she refused. We had a call where she wasn't paying attention to me. When I told her I wasn't fine and needed to talk, she said nothing. My phone's battery drained very fast, so I texted her how much I wanted to talk to her and how much I needed her, but she didn't reciprocate.
I eventually gave up and texted her some harsh things to get a reaction out of her, and she finally started replying, which was kind of funny. I apologized immediately and continued to apologize the next day and the day after that. I suggested taking a break and then getting back together, but she said no to every possibility. I concluded that it was over.
I felt like, what's the point of this relationship if she can't help me in such a situation? I was there for her, but she was not there for me.
I waited a week, hoping she would message me, but she didn't. Then I thought I should visit her next month after getting my salary. I was very anxious at that time. I tried to speak to her, but she again said no. After that, I was very confused. A friend of mine told me, "Bro, do whatever gives you peace." At that moment, I realized that even if I visited her, things wouldn't change because I was ready, but she was not. I realized I had been dumped, and I had anxiety attacks and other issues. I also had to perform at my job, and everything was very messy. She blocked me during all this time.
After two weeks, I realized I should move on. I started talking to a girl I met on a dating app. We had night-long calls, and she seemed cool. She was into art, and I felt like I wanted to learn art to express myself. I thought of dating her to see where things would go. For our first date, she invited me to her place, which was weird, but I didn't think much of it because if something bad happened to me, I would be fine with that (I was suicidal). We watched a movie, and before I left, she moved close to me, and we kissed. After that, I asked more about her past relationships, which were not that great.
I suddenly realized what a mistake I made because I knew I wasn't going to stay with her long. On our second date, I conveyed this to her, and she said it was fine. She also didn't want any attachments and just wanted to go with the flow. We made out again (no intercourse). After the second date, my guilt got to me, and I told her I couldn't be physical with her if we weren't going to be together because I didn't want that. She said, "Chill, it's okay, we're both having fun," but I stopped talking to her. However, the guilt of moving on too quickly and the realization that I wasn't going to be with my ex ever hit me hard.
I felt like I had lost all my chances. My ex was the love of my life, and now I realize she just needed time to work on herself. If I had been patient, everything might have been fine. After a few days, I had a call with my ex, breaking the no-contact rule, and it turned into an argument. The next day, she called me, apologizing for her mistakes. After that call, I started having feelings for her again. I got desperate and forgot all the bad things that had happened in the past. But I didn't have the courage to tell her what I had done in the meantime. I told her I was very confused and wanted her back, even though I hated her a few days ago.
I was getting very messy. She told me we couldn't be together, that she didn't want to give me hope, and that we should work on ourselves and see what happens. I agreed. We both had an unspoken plan to meet after 3-4 months once she got into college. But the guilt of making out with another girl got to me, along with the hope of getting back with my ex and the thought that she might not change.
I wanted to kill that hope. At first, I thought I would confess to her when we met, but I didn't want to be stuck on that thought for months. One day, she messaged me, and I told her everything. She hung up the call and blocked me. The next day, I called her from my friend's phone and apologized. I said I was very confused about what I wanted and that I didn't know what I was doing. I asked her not to think of me as a bad person and to forgive me. She said I should have waited and that I am the kind of person who moves on easily. She hung up the call again. And here I am.
TLDR: Am I the asshole for moving on from my girlfriend who wanted me to move on from her? She said lots of heartbreaking things to me at the end, and I gave up and moved on too quickly, which I regret now.

I slept fine, I didn’t fall asleep so nicely. I don’t know why, I felt perfectly adequate all evening and then bam I cry myself to sleep. I don’t know how or why, and I didn’t even cry over anything in particular it was just any and everything. And I just kept crying and crying, like a baby. I had to switch pillows twice because I drenched it, but I got to sleep on my favourite pillow by the time I was almost asleep thankfully. I can be so picky with pillows, another thing mum tends to call me, even to this day - the princess and the pea. Or rather she likens me to her… I can’t entirely say I disagree tbh. I just like things a particular way, not all things, I can be relaxed about plenty, but there are some things I just to be just so. My pillows when I sleep for example, how the dishwasher top rack is stacked etc. Entirely inconsequential things really. But anyway. I didn’t fall asleep so nicely. I woke up feeling better, still a bit sad but nothing I couldn’t ignore.
It’s now 12:58pm and I’ve done next to nothing. I’ve been watching BT, I’m not writing the name of the show because I feel like that might be search heavy at the moment? So I’ve been watching that, I’m midway through the third episode now and there are four out so far. I’ve also painted some of my lil clay things with primer. And that’s about it. I really need to clean and tidy my room but the idea of it… ugh. I don’t want to :(
I’m loving BT so much. I like the stories and characters and stuff, but I mostly love the sets and costumes. They’re just so luxuriously opulent and uggghhhhhhh I want to just stare it all. Sometimes I wish they would clear out the cast and just give us a tour of the rooms and show all the details of the gowns. But like I learned in therapy, beauty is something I value highly, not in a vain way but in the way I utterly adore beautiful things whether it be a stunningly ornate wallpaper, a sparkly bead encrusted gown or even a leaf that is the perfect shade of green. I just love it all and it brings me so much joy, more than I realised now that I’m conscious of this value of mine. But the BT house itself, particularly the drawing room ommmmgggg. The blue? I think it’s called wedgewood blue from memory, with the creamy/white detailing. And all the light streaming through. It’s so dreamy. And it makes me love my blue and white bedroom more. And the gowns!!!!!!! I wish I could roll around in them, they’re so sparkly and detailed and beyond beautiful. Particularly the ones crusted in beading and with the luxurious silks and satins and velvets and taffetas and organza and all of it. And the colours! It’s all so dreamy. I don’t overly love the style of a lot of the gowns, that sort of empire line, mainly because it only looks good on women with fewer curves and a flatter chest, they can look gorrrrrrrgeous in them. But otherwise if you have any kind of cleavage it looks so weird and bleh. I love Penelope so much, she’s always been a favourite character and she honestly deserves the very best. And Colin definitely got a glow up prior to this season. His brown coat is so delicious. I’m beginning to wonder if I should read the series…? I do love a lil historical romance. Anyway I don’t even Penelope and Colin to end up together, I mean Lord Debling is so lovely and Colin is off sleeping with hookers… like? Then again I know I am wrong in how I think and feel about all of this. I know I have expectations ghat are unfair, I mean maybe not for everyone but if I’m nothing special and therefore not enough then can I criticise. This doesn’t make sense. Anyway. Actually nevermind I just watched the fourth episode and I am very much Team Colin. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!!!!!! But now I have to wait for part two in mid June :(
I’m going to the office tomorrow. I don’t want to. But oh well. I’m going to make a concerted effort to get back in twice a week - I’ve been slack with it and it doesn’t help me become better. Leaving the house more is important, so this shall be one of the ways. I’m also going to get some new sneakers and a walking jacket so I can go for walks more regularly. I’d like to go several times a week, but I’ll work up to that. I love my walks, I love them a lot but I just get filled with every negative emotion when I go for them around my house, to the point I’ll start having tears running down my cheeks or shaky trembly hands - it’s pathetic. I think environment is everything, and purpose. When I walk pups at my parents I don’t feel these things, I’ll be a little anxy but nothing I can’t manage. But here? It’s so hard. It’s so stupid I know. But I love walking, I feel better when I do it regularly, so I shall keep forcing myself to do it until I feel okay about it. I know this is what I have to do, but the way it makes me feel inside… it never feels worth it. To be 20 minutes walk from home and feel on the verge of a panic attack is NOT a good feeling and it only makes my panic worsen. So baby steps. I’ve been considering on and off moving to a different area, I think I would feel more comfortable in other areas, I don’t know why I don’t here but I don’t. But moving elsewhere is no different to running from problems so I will sort it out here.
I broke his little bowl. I didn’t mean to :( I feel kind of upset about it, it’s been two weeks in the making with time to shape, dry, prime and I was doing a final layer of primer pre paint and my stupid finger went through the base. So I guess it would never have been a good present anyway because it broke so easily. But I bought a really pretty coloured paint because I thought he might like it and I just feel upset. I showed him it, idk why, I just messaged him a picture of it now and I already wish I hadn’t. I shouldn’t have even made anything for him in the first place, he’s made it abundantly clear he doesn’t care for homemade things - cards, presents, whatever. If he did like them he would comment on them, and he never does, so maybe it’s a good thing this broke. I just like sharing things with him, like when I draw and I like a tree I’ve drawn I want to show him, except I don’t because I’m utterly rubbish at drawing and it makes me look like a five year old. I at least appreciate his honesty, or transparency rather. It means I can understand what he does and doesn’t like. I just think his likes don’t mesh with my like of making homemade cards and presents. It’s not like I only give him that though. Anyway it doesn’t matter, plus it’s probably better for me to not share things like this given I don’t have any skill or natural talent with it. Just because you enjoy something doesn’t make you good at it.
I don’t feel so great this afternoon, mood wise.
I’ve done the absolute bare minimum with my room, and the bar was set very, very low today. I tidied the floor up a bit, I made my bed, did a lazy tidy of my vanity desk thing.. that’s about it. I’ll do more across the week.
I feel.. detached today. This afternoon, rather. I know I love my family, Andy, puppy… etc. I just can’t feel it. I know it’s all in there, but I feel detached and I can’t reach it. This isn’t unusual, I just always try to describe the feeling and always fail. I think knowing I care but not being able to feel myself care sums it up as well as I’ll ever be able to.
I found a little notebook of my early days of therapy, well with this current one, maybe not that early actually but idk. It was just me writing down who I am. The first is “I am a human” because I had to start with the basics. The last line is “I try my best to be friendly” - I think I will continue with this. No one really comments much on me so I will just write it as things feel write. From memory it was also a way to force myself to speak more kindly to myself, ie I am a woman vs I am a monster. And things like I’m generous, I love animals, I am quiet, I try to be patient, I love romance, I appreciate attention to detail, I like to care for others, I am a homebody, I love reading etc. And then scattered amongst it was some honesty, like I can be a control freak, I am quite particular about some things, I am indecisive, I am sensitive etc. And then next to I am a friend I have a question mark. But I want to continue writing these things, I think it’s helpful when I feel lost in myself to be able to read through a list of things I’ve written and be reminded. That sounds so silly to not know who you are sometimes, but sometimes I just feel so unbelievably lost and unmoored from everything, even myself. So I’ll write all the good things, and the bad. I’ll write things that I like, things that I don’t. I’ll write things I want in my life, things I feel like I should want but don’t, things I shouldn’t want but do etc etc etc. It’ll be a little tiny notebook of everything me. I wonder if sometimes it’s possible for me to get any lamer? Unlikely.
I’ve been thinking about stopping journaling here more and more. I get more out of posting it here, it feels like a release, like I’m letting all the thoughts go which is especially helpful with my negative ones, I don’t know.
It’s 5:23pm. I need to wash and blowdry my hair, as it’s still damp in the morning lately. I need to have something for dinner, I guess. I’ve been struggling with eating lately, I feel so ugly and it makes me not want to eat and then that sets off a bad string of things. I’ll have something little, vegemite toast maybe. I need to pack my bag for tomorrow. And that’s it.
I feel better after a shower and chat with Andy, I still feel not good but he perked me up on the outside. He makes me laugh so much :) It’s kind of weird to think I’ll be living long term in Australia, like I’ve always intended on living there - until my mental health and covid messed things up a little for me timeline wise. But to think I’ll maybe say Australian things…? That I’ll say thongs? And I definitely will because I cave quickly, like I was only in the UK two years and I said crisps and trainers and I still do to this day, which I’m actively trying to stop. I wonder what my accent would sound like after like ten years… I really doubt I’d ever lose my accent. It’s funny how I do probably sound a bit different when talking to him versus my mum. I just talk more softly with him, I naturally do anyway to the point I have people comment semi regularly on how soft spoken I am, but idk, I don’t even mean to speak to him a certain way, I just do? And then he hears me talking to mum and I probably sound like I’m wearing Jandals and stubbies while loading up the ute as I prepare for a tramp in the bush. Christ. I do love being from here though, in theory I would rather we live here than Australia, and never say never… but it makes more sense to be there. I don’t really have anyone here other than my parents whereas he has family and friends and his payments and all of it. I don’t really have any ties here. Anyway.
I get to spend time with him tonight :) Night night

I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.

Hello everyone, I'm gonna start this off by saying thanks to anybody who will read this as it will be a long one, and anybody willing to offer me any advice.
PS. This post started as a post where I was asking for college advice, but as I wrote more I realized any advice would be really helpful so I changed the title a bit, Thanks in advance again!
[[ Beware: My whole lifestory coming up combined with tired midnight grammar 😅 ]]
To get to the point, I currently live in Croatia and just turned 19 a couple of months ago and a time has come when I am again thinking about college. Some background on me, from when I was very little I was always interested in engineering and art, it all started when a teacher of mine in the 5th grade of primary school introduced me to programming and robotics. From then on I was in love with everything to do with electronics, robotics, mechanics programming, and fundamental sciences, maybe even math itself, but that's beside the point. During those years the passion for all of that really grew. I went to countless robotics competitions during my time at school there and even won lots of prizes. One time I almost came to world-level competitions but sadly missed the first place by a point. When I was home I sadly didn't have much equipment for any of these interests except a computer. It seemed limitless what I could do with it, whatever I wanted to do I could make it. It's not like electronics where as a kid getting parts was difficult except from old salvaged electronic devices. I could learn and make whatever I wanted, as long as the old family computer could run it. So I started learning a lot about computers during these times like basic algorithms and some basic games random Python scripts etc. In terms of computers, I was no genius, but for the age, I'm grateful I took the time to learn even the basics of it. Other than that I was a somewhat weird kid because I couldn't really take picking off some classmates as a joke and got annoyed at it quickly when they started interrupting me while I was drawing ( My dad was an artist in his youth so I picked that up from him, been scribbling every day in primary school when class was either boring or some kind of recess ) but even though they were picking on me, I to this day still really don't mind them, we were a pretty close class at the end of the day. And that's how most of my primary school went by, me being social with only a few friends and my informatics teacher as well. Other than that I was pretty sad during those years, I couldn't understand people and was contemplating the meaning of life as well, and that combined with me inheriting some stubbornness from mom, she and I were always fighting for homework, screentime, etc. Right now we are in a very good relationship so I'm greatful for that aswell. Seeing how I didnt really talk outside of school to many people expect a few friends ( I do live in a small village so if they were the same age as me they were in my class ) i basicly spent most of my time while not staying after school in a computer club we had for few hours every couple of days a week, i was cooped upped inside my house, playing with legos, being with grandparents or my cousins or being on computer and doing some programing, scripting, photoshoping and other things you can reasonably excect a child to do. And so passed most of my primary school.
When time came to plan for highschool, I originaly wanted to go to art school, but was quickly turned down by my mother because she thought it wasnt a smart idea. Personaly didn't like it at first, but she is a smart woman so in time i understood. Basicly other then liking to draw and paint, I wanted to go there bacause my best friend from class was going there and he also wanted me to come along. ( Funny how me the least popular guy and the youngest guy in class and he the most popular guy in class while also being the oldest were best friends, but thats a story for another day ) As my mom turned down my suggestion for art school she suggested I go to a school for a Mechatronics Technician. I didnt not like the idea as well I loved everything related to it. Other than that another option was Computer Technician ( basicly a programming oriented path ) but I decided mechatronics because i said to myself i can learn programing at home because the only tools i need are a computer, and mechanics, electronics and robotics is something I dont have at home so it will be really cool to learn all of that here and so, highschool started.
Oh how fast has the reality come crashing down as I understood what the whole mess of the education system actualy was. Most of the classes didnt have any equipment to actualy do anything practical, the other small portion that did the rest lf the 95% of class didnt understand anything so we couldnt do much or what was the more often scenario is that the proffesors just didnt really care at all so we would come to class and do absolutly nothing, like literaly nothing except waiting for the bell to ring. After i realised that I just started not coming to school most quite a bit. Mostly was not comming on fridays, some wednesdays etc most of the times I was actualy abit sick, but every time i was sick i exadurated it so my mom would let me stay home. Even though i was missing quite a bit of classes, if a class had something to do with math or logical thinking ( which most were ) i would usualy either be best at it in the class or almost the best for the pure reason I was actualy really interested and loved all the cool engineering stuff. On the other side if a subject was about 0 logic, full random name memorisation like the croatian literature class, I was almost if not the worst in class managing just barely to scrape by. Other than that there was one proffesor who I admired so much for his style of teaching, as he tought me so much during the only 2 years he lectured me ( my fourth year of highschool he was out because pention ). In simply half a year we went from 0 knowledge to designing, printing, creating and soldering a whole circuit on a pcb, I was always there for his classes. On the other time we were doing something else, he always had some cool stuff prepared when i was finished with work early, he was a great guy and still respect him alot. Other than that i was really disapointed how there existed zero after school activities that i could do that had to do anything with electronic, mechanics, robotics or programing.
On the side of my social life, the summer just before starting highschool I realised this was a great opportunity to redeem myself as i really didnt want to get picked on like in primary school. So what other kind of persona would somebody come up in this situation than one being supported by my pride itself, other than that i was basicly a "chameleon" aka adapting to every person around me which was probably the reason i made some friends but it usualy tired me out completly. And so it started really great actualy, nobody was picking on me, i was socialising ( only inside of my class usualy, other than the people who went to this town from my village that i already knew, but it was a big step up for me ) and learned how to shrug of others banter by pretending it didnt effect me. It was definitly in a better possition then primary school alright, but i did realise alot of people just moving away sometimes because of how i just increased pridefulness as i got more vulnerable. I think i was able to keep my pride to just below some overflowing point as i still managed to make a few friends.
And so some time passed, at home watching more videos about everything to do with engineering, getting a 3d printer and messing with it, programing some more and even trying to learn some business, economy and more about money. I even developed a game for the school as some special thing I got by talking to a teacher of mine. Other than that at the third year, thanks to a profesor i was able to get in touch with a software development company and was able to secure an internship for basicly the whole summer, which was a blast. I learned so much new things that opened doors to alot more things. After that i focused my random "Jack of all trades" learning to be mostly focused on modern used technologies, and the needs of possible job recruiters, and well it in general. That is the point i feel i truly started learning proper programing.
More on my development of pride, in highschool and in primary school i was actualy praised quite alot and being actualy abit good at something maybe was the thing that allowed me to get even some friends by being prideful. We can call that being lucky as the stars alligned, but anyways. During those years i also had two experiences with me falling in love for the first time. The first one didnt last more than a 4ish months maybe, it was basicly a crush thing that ended in a broken heart, but o boy it was a good waking called. I wonder what would happen to me without this realisation. Then the next one lasted basicly 7-8ish months in the 4th year of highschool, and this one was much more complicated and longer, but after it i learned quite a new few things. These two things really awoken me to who i am today, as i try to live each day with as much virtue as I can. I threw out the pride out of the window, and dont really care too much of somebodies bad opinions on me, if there are currently any. I came to terms with alot of things and am just able to accept things for what they are, without judgment.
As im writing this its quite late and am tired so sorry for bad grammar i want to shorten this abit. Basicly my whole life i loved scientists, engineers and the idea of colledge. Was always dreaming of becomingba "great scientist" like albert einstein or nikola tesla but the older i got, the more things i learned, the more that dream of going to colledge got shattered by reality. As i realised the giant flaws in the education system, after learning about money and realising colledges are just big businesses trying to earn alot of money, and that that is their main motivation, combines with seeing that scientists basicly to get any money and recognition these days need to literaly hop from trend to trend, research what is "in" currently or well no bread on the table just made the academia route of my life shatter before my eyes. Seeing how i knew quite abit computers i thought i could atleast land something, but after seeing people who were much longer in the industry praise me for a impressive knowledge on alot of fields and my ability to almost instantly grasp any concept thrown at me, i actualy got a job. Well this was how I decided to start working immediatly instead of going to colledge. After weighing the options combined with the additional knowledge i got about the job market, this was an obvious choice. I believe that my key to being objective is me being realistic, so sadly i know am not some do it all genious and know i need to rely on whatever i have to use as leverage to enhance my life, so learning from Warren Buffet that out of everything I got, my time was my biggest asset. Simply being young with the above average skills i have, I believe i have a reasonably good chance to have a virtous and fulfiling life.
But i still have that burning flame in my chest, i still love the idea i had of colledge, of becoming a scientist, an engineer. I tried looking for ways to convince myself otherwise and see that i was actualy wrong about it all, but each time i look, more and more i realise my initial assumptions were right. The world is slowly moving away from official education like colledges as everything can be learnt online, because of ai the next few years are going to be revolutionary in all of these fields so either the colledge courses are going to be very outdated or just some concept of a job will not simply be needed as a diffrent one apears. The posibilities and their volatility is just so high that i dont feel even 1% safe actualy going to colledge, seeing how devoting like 5 years to it will mean loosing the onlx advantage i can use, and that is me starting out young. And as a bonus because i have a job i actualy have more time than colledge to persume my other interest like mechanics and electronics as well as actualy funds.
Thanks for reading all of this, I can trust it was quite a journey reading everything i written basicly half asleep but i hope you were able to understand everything. Im really confused what to do, as I love both options but knowing that one has a much better chance of being useful to me than the other. Any advice you can give me will be greatly appriciated, be it about college like is there an actualy good colledge in europe thats is worth it in my place, or general life stuff, about work etc. Once again I cannot thank you enough for reading this and helping me. Thanks!
Edit: I havent said much about my job because this is more of a general reddit but for people who are in the field I am a backend developer, with some freelancing and opensource contributions on the side

Yeah, I think I hate my husband. He just can be biggest jerk ever. So, we are planning a trip to the beach for my birthday (we do have an agreement that for our birthday we can ask anything and we will use our money to get it, I said since the beginning what I want is a trip) we are taking advantage of some flights he is getting for free because he is going to the same place for work. So, we booked our Airbnb tonight and I wanted to go eat to this restaurant for my birthday but he told me 2 weeks ago he will have to work on my birthday until 2-2:30pm. I said ok, it’s fine. Then today when I wanted to make the reservation for the restaurant I was thinking out loud and said “I wonder if it’s smart to make the reservation at the restaurant since you compromised to work on my birthday, I’m worried we will not make it on time”… dude got up and got so so mad and starting saying shit and walked away. I stayed there thinking what the heck? Then I got up and I asked him to take the trash out. He ignored me, I called him and asked him again to take the trash out he started saying stuff “why? How is that going to make anything difference on taking it tonight and tomorrow…” I said it was smelling funny and I didn’t want that smell in the house. I was about to take it but he came mad and took the trash out. Then came back inside and started acting upset and I got upset bc I was “what’s the problem?” I brushed my teeth and did all my night routine, dude got in bed and “went to sleep” and I asked him… “what are you so mad about?” He didn’t respond and I said so “you’re just gonna act like that?” “What did I do for you to be mad?” The argument started, he said I told him he “compromised to work on My birthday” bc I was mad, I was trying to make him feel bad, and I was upset about it. I wasn’t upset about it. I was just thinking out loud about the restaurant reservations, so I said, how was I mad when I said that you compromised to work on my birthday? He said then why would you say it? My response was im just thinking out loud, and then he said no you were not. You were saying it because you were mad about it … and we just kept arguing because I really didn’t understand why he is so mad about… Take into consideration that English is not my first language, and I am not from here, so he looked up on Google what compromise means and then he told me that compromise means you doing something that you don’t want to do, even though the understanding for me in my native language means that you agreed to work on that day or do something bc you’re being responsible. He always thinks the worse of me so I wasn’t impressed…and I am here still not understanding what I did wrong. He said that nothing is never enough for me, he started “crying” and mocking me saying “oh poor girl she is going to the beach for her birthday, poor her poor her” and I got very offended at the fact he was mocking me because I never said that going to the beach was not enough and I was not mad about him working but he just kept being upset about it and I was trying to understand and I asked him to explain how me telling him that I was worried about the restaurant and if I should make a reservation was bad. Anyways, he is a jerk. He is always a jerk and he always makes fun of me. He always uses adjectives about me. He told me many many times that he is done and he wants a divorce and I honestly don’t feel heard in this relationship, I don’t feel loved. I don’t feel happy and I am very very miserable. I cry a lot because I hate his jerk comments and I hate the way that he is sometimes, he can be very cocky, have smart ass comments about me and about what I do, he also makes fun of me and my accent in front of people, he also uses me like his little guinea pig to make jokes of me with his friends or with new people, and then he says he loves my culture, and he loves me. I’ve been thinking about divorcing him, I’ve been contemplating the idea on moving out and just going to live by myself, but I feel lonely and I feel scared because I’m alone in this country. I am not worried about being alone and being responsible for myself because believe it or not me as an immigrant make more money that he makes, I have two jobs, I am a very hard-working person, I am a good wife, I keep the house clean, do the laundry, make sure he always has food and I don’t do this because I think it’s my obligation as a woman but because I really care about him, so the fact that he just treated me the way that he does it just breaks my heart because I think i still love him. I am also embarrassed and scared of calling my family and my mother…Tell them all the truth because I always told them that he is a good man and he loves me very well, but they don’t know that he is an asshole a lot of times, and it’s funny that I heard from his high school friends that they told me many times “why did you marry him?” “ What did you see in him” they even told him “what did you do to get someone so good like her, what did you do to get so lucky” His friends like me, I have a great relationship with most of his friends. I am just now thinking he’s always being a jerk. He’s never going to change that’s just the way that he is. Do you guys have any advice? Should I leave him? I know I am not perfect, but he hates the fact that I want to cuddle, he hates the fact that I want to be Sweet, he hates the fact that I want to be cheesy, he is not at all detailist, he never gives me flowers, presents, surprises, anything that is cheesy for him is always a no-no, we don’t do anything that Married couples do, anniversaries,surprises, etc… I don’t think he loves me, even though he sometimes says he loves me, but he loves me only when I agree with everything that he says or has to do or don’t get close to Him, don’t ask him anything, don’t expect Anything… How do I get a divorce? how do I make sure that, I get all my money and everything that is mine like my car and he doesn’t take it away from me? I don’t want to Spend all my savings in lawyers. I hate being with him and hate his personality, I love how creative and smart he can be sometimes but I hate him as a person.

In kindergarten (sorry I'm from singapore so we follow British but if im not wrong its like 5-6 years old) I already accepted Christ into my life. But my mom is a "I hate Christians!!" kind of person so I didnt dare to tell her anything. I didn't really have a good relationship with my mom cos to her studies are everything and she made me (until now) think that I'm never good enough. And I was only in primary school thinking my mom doesn't like me. I'm worthless, I want to kms. I made plans to grab the knife from the kitchen, jump off and things like that. Eventually I resulted to scratching my own skin cos I feel most pain when it's right at the nerve uk.
My whole life was until the end of primary school (12) was only to do things to make my mom happy. I wouldn't mention a word about Christianity to her. And when my mom was out at night, me, my dad and my sisters would worship. The moment the door opens, I scramble into the room. This also make me walk far from God and I would curse, swear and stuff. One day in P6, the last year of primary school (12 years old) I thought "Hey, I'm Christian so why am I swearing? Isn't this a sin?" So I stopped cursing. Of course, my mom wouldn't want me going around cursing but I didn't really do it for her, but rather for God. But I still didn't want to tell her about it.
When I graduated from Primary school, in Secondary (Sec) school, I finally got to bring my phone to school (13 years old), but my mom still could track me. Anyways I got to listen to some worship songs my dad sent to me and because I didn't have a music player downloaded and wasn't allowed to download any apps, I would listen through the WhatsApp audio player thing😭😭 on the way home. Usually on Sundays whene my mom isn't home,my dad would bring me to church. Then of course my mom would find out and scold me and this continued until sec 2 (14).
In Sec 3 (15 years old), I had whole control of my phone so I would listen to worship music on the way home. One day in, my dad brought me to church. My mom saw my location and immediately got mad because she knew where my dad's church is and also because my older sister attends service too and my mom was not happy. Since then, I was afraid to go to church. My mom even cornered me one day and made me promise not to go to church or I can forget calling her my mom. I kept crying that night and never dared to go to church (mind that i dont even cry often).
But towards mid year(?) I just decided ok Imma go to church. She can get angry but it won't really stop me. Because I got to know God through worship songs and now I wanted to know him more.
I regularly started praying in the morning on the way to school. Eventually my prayers became a ritual and dry. I felt no emotion and no pull towards God. Only on days when I was really upset/angry then I would feel Him comforting me. One day I really wanted to be the captain in my CCA (it's like after school activities but still part of school programs) and I didn't get it. I was so upset I cried on the way home because I actually put in so much effort into it. Then I became vice captain so ig that counts.
Anyways I became really upset and got frustrated because I didn't prove myself enough. I had so low expectations of myself, got depressed again, but I couldn't vent it out because I couldn't hurt myself anymore after learning my body is a temple of God. So I got super frustrated. I prayed for guidance decided to free up my Saturdays I went to church. Youth services for Secondary school students were on Saturdays and not Sundays so yeah. Towards like October last year I cleared up my Saturdays so I could go more regularly to church, and my mom was defo not happy AT ALL that I went with my own initiative. She ignored me for several weeks and of course I felt lonely and all buy eventually I felt okay because she doesn't even know me sooooo.
I'm still trying to patch up my relationship with her. Honestly, it's so strained I don't know what to do. I've prayed that she would accept Christ everyday but uhh nothing. This doesn't mean I don't believe in God if not this would not exist
One day I was fellowshipping with my dad. Why we did that is because of a long story that would be saved for another day.
But this is the part where it's important
Previously I had dreams and I shared with my dad because he is more experience in deciphering gifts and stuff (I'm sorry if you don't believe in gifts but I do!) And he told me to pray about it because I somehow knew these dreams had meaning and relation to God. A number of dreams had direct inference to God. I did pray about it, and also asked God along these lines; "God, give me guidance. I have strayed and I know. Lord please let me understand, and let me also be close to You. I want to know You, and I know, I haven't read the word. Lord, motivate me to read the scripture, and while reading let me also understand the dreams I have been having my whole life."
I can't remember what I said exactly. The one 9f the church sermons on one week talked about how God is not far, but we are far. And I felt that that was for me. Then one day my dad said to me and my older sister "I don't care you have to download the Bible rn" so I downloaded it but did nothing with it. Finally, one day I was late for work (yes I worked when I was 15 because I actually want an electric guitar) and it was New Year's Eve. My colleague texted me saying she'd pick me up and I said and quote "Isokkk I walk over" (me) ... "Give me your block" (colleague) "Omd tyyy" (me)
Part of me didn't want her to fetch me because it would be troubling her. But I don't know why I waited and was thinking "bruh I could've reached by now but she's late" but I just waited. I was wearing full white that day. And this woman must've thought I was going to church because it was a Sunday morning.
And she asked "Hello, are you going to church?"
I said "oh no no, I have church at night because it's countdown service. (basically the youth services brought our church service from Saturday 4pm to Sunday 8pm because we wanted to countdown service together)"
She said," Oh! So you're Christian! Do you read the Word often?"
I blushed because so many signs and I haven't read a single word. "No," I was so embarrassed
She continued "I used to be a teacher, a lecturer in a University (if im not wrong) There is a website called 7 minutes with God. It was originally created for Harvard students because they were busy and didn't have time to spend time with God." Then I couldn't hear what she said because she was talking so fast. All I knew was she was summarizing the website and encouraged me to read it.
I read it like on January 2nd this year on the way to school ( I'm 16 this year!!! But not 16 yet because as I said, it's not my birthday yet or anytime soon)
I was so inspired that I kept on reading the Word and devoted mornings to not only prayers (that I allowed God to guide me and not just pray for the sake of praying) but also for reading the Word!
See, when I prayed to have motivation to read the Word more, God gave me the sign THREE TIMES which I did not pick up until the 3rd sign, the lady. The first time during the sermon I was like "Yes God, I will do it!" but did nothing. The second time when my dad asked me to download the app version of the Bible, I said "Yes God, this is the sign!" and did not do anything. I got discouraged because my dad thinks I'm funny and wouldn't take my words seriously omd 😭. But the third time, God literally sent a random woman I don't know and told me to read. And I read, praise God!
this is the part where it relates to the meme
Because when I went to the shower I kept laughing because I thought of this meme. I didn't read the word or get touched because it was a coincidence. So coincidence? I think not! It's a miracle ❤️❤️❤️
I finished Mark and the New Testament, I'm currently at John right now.
Just now, after a meeting with my cell group (a small group for easier prayers etc in church), I was listening to worship music, and my grumpy dad was like "GO AND SHOWER" liek chill brou. So I went to the toilet with my headphones on and sat on the floor and just continued listening to worship music. Then my dad sent in the family group chat (just me, my older sister and him, my mom got mad and left) an article about this man called Patrick Lee/Bezalel. He is a local artist faithful in Christ
But reading halfway I kept crying because I was so touched (again I do no lt cry, but I related so much I cried even though nothing had to do with me, but it was like my mother's story where she had a hard of stone towards God) and then my phone went flat 😐 So I risked it and ran out to get my charger but thank God (like actually) my dad didn't scream like he would. Then I sat at the toilet floor and continued reading. Tears kept flowing down my face because Patrick Bezalel's story was such a miracle, and God kept giving him signs that God existed! And removed the layer of stone that surrounded the man's heart and made it soft and open to God again!
After that I continued worshipping God and was listening to worship music (yes in the toilet because I literally have 0 privacy because none of my parents think I need it). I kept crying because the songs were so related. Can you imagine? It went in this order:
1.Presence,Power,Glory 2.Hosanna 3.Promises 4.Holy Forever
Again, coincidence? I THINK NOT. It was so planned, like it was in my playlist for so long and I haven't really thought much about it. Tears kept streaming down and kept going and through sobs I silently prayed to God
"Oh my dear God you have been so so good to me, and so faithful to me Lord. You have guided me, guided my heart and nothing has gone wrong in Your hands Lord. I've been through the turning point I've prayed for. You have sent people, songs and my family members to come after me to open up to You Lord. Lord, I was having a CG (cell group) meeting and something just touched my heart. I am now sitting on the toilet floor and typing this, because Lord you have made a way to touch my heart, guide me through a prayer that came deep down from inside of me Lord, thank You for providing. Thank You God for the miracles You have did in my life, and all that I prayed for has came through Lord. The turning point I prayed for was when that lady had spoken to me about how to set aside time for You and the Word. Lord let me not forget this incident, this turning point, this miracle Lord. Let me put my trust in You Lord, and let You take my hand and let my life be walking next to You faithfully Lord. Lord I pray that I would not waver, and I would not take my eyes away from You. Even when I am crossing and walking toward You on water in the sea, let my eyes be on You, and the works You have done for me, and not be distracted by the worls around me, but to keep my eyes on You diligently Lord. Lord, I am a sinner, and now, I was, for You have sent Jesus Christ, Your Son, to die on the cross for me. Lord, I believe in You and I want to accept You in my life Lord, no matter what situation I am in. Lord, let people around me see Your love, joy, and faithfulness in me, and not let them see the girl I was before. Let them see change, and the love and desire I have for You, Lord. Let them see Your greatness, Your goodness and You. I thank You for everything You have done, and in Jesus's name, I pray that I will walk faithfully alongside You, and will not fail to continuously pray and worship You God. Thank You Lord for the miracles, for this turning point. Thank You God for guiding me, and let me be the branch that bears fruit, and let me be the branch that has life only through Jesus, Who is the vine, Who the reason I live Lord, Who is the reason I have life. Praise the Lord! Amen!"
This is the first time I prayed for so long and every one word was truly from deep down fron the depths of my heart. I couldn't stop crying. I really couldn't and I can't emphasize more that I don't cry often! Either it hurt me so much or that God moved my heart. This time was tears of joy.
I hope this could inspire someone out there, because in another prayer I prayed for those who needed God, even if I didn't know them.
Pray. Pray and ask God to help you seek Him. One thing I learnt from a sermon is the fervency in your prayers. I didn't mean to add this in but I suddenly saw this note I wrote on 25th February.
Title: fervency in prayer Fervency: being excited about something keen on something
At the heart of revival is the spirit of prayer • pray fervently • pray with faith
"But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed"
To be fervent in prayer is to pray tenaciously despite our struggles
Hopefully this helped someone out there, inspired you and is one of your signs to start giving your life to Him! It is actually proven 1 in 3 people are Christians. Isn't our goal to have this faith to reach all four corners of the world? It could sound impossible in the past, but now there is social media, anyone could read and realize "Hey God is actually with me!"