Funny sayings about weed

I (M42) and my spouse (F40)
I just had the shock of my life, and possibly the most dramatic upheaval imaginable. I'm scared, concerned and i wonder if anyone else has a similar experience. This is concerning my soon to be ex-wife. Not an easy read or even to type, but strap yourselves in. We were married for 13 years, had known each other for 23. She was a child that grew up in a war in her home country, and was effected by it more than she let on. During the last 4 years of our relationship, she started developing incredible anxiety and depression. She would become like an exposed nerve, and every perceived slight became something she would ruminate on for days at a time. We had some events in our marriage that were incredibly stressful. Our son was born prematurely, our daughter when she was born was also traumatic. She was always highly strung when i knew her. i was very much the calming influence to her and it was a role that developed in our dynamic. i would be her rock and safe place. Things started to change, and dramatically so. I travel with work and she would look after the kids. i would be home large parts of the year, but i would have to go away sometimes for 4 weeks at a time. When covid hit, we were both home for a better part of 18 months, and i started to notice things that concerned me. She began to become incredibly paranoid about neighbours. She was certain they were spyi ng on us somehow (even though they were 80, and not at all interested in us). This spiraled from the neighbours commenting on the length of our grass. It effected her, and she became fixated. Any new neighbours she instantly distrusted, and she believed they all spoke badly of her.none of it was true, but in her state of hypervigilance, she was misinterpreting signs. A strange look, or half glance was enough to make her feel unsafe and scared. This slowly devolved into her being fearful of being spied on in the shower, people who walked dogs the same time each morning past our house were doing it to spy on us, etc. I could see it was draining her, and making her very ill with stress so we discussed maybe going to therapy, which she did. During the years we were together, she had been on various anti-depressants to cope with depression. I always chalked it down to post natal depression and the stress being a mother brought to her, especially when i went away. She attended therapy, but would stop when it became uncomfortable. She then opened up to me one day regarding it. It turns out that she was molested as a child by a family friend, and had buried it. that coupled with seeing her childhood friend die from an explosion (which i knew about) had effected her more than we knew. The therapy seemed to make it worse, and since that point things took a massive nose dive. She was an incredibly bubbly, happy and cheerful person to everyone. or so i thought. She would sometimes drop the mask at home, and i could see the turmoil developing. I hate to admit it, but i was blind to it for many years. she had masked it from the very beginning. Her paranoia got worse and worse. she came off of her antidepressants and started using weed vape pens to be able to cope with the incredible anxiety. I watched her drift apart from me over the last two years, her kindness towards me vanishing and almost a resentment towards me. She would complain about the new house we had bought and that she hated it because of the neighbours. We discussed moving, but she realised in her more lucid times that the issue would follow her whereever she went. The last year together she would speak about moving to another country. I said i would, but after my parents, who are old, passed. i didn't want them to not see our children in their final years. We had grown apart, she had this strange push-pull dynamic with me. One day she'd love me and be this caring person, the next cold and distant. I tried incredibly hard to pull us back together whilst dealing with her delusions of paranoia that were still ongoing, but the more i tried (and at some points i was quite combative and forceful) to get her to communicate, the more she pulled away. There was hardly any intimacy, which i yearned for and would comment on. She would initiate it sometimes, but for me, i'm ashamed to say, i complained about it a lot. She would have sex with me on occasion, and then if we argued later say "i didn't really want sex, it was like rape". This hurt me to my core, and made me bitter about how we were. The arguments became worse and worse. She started resenting me for trapping her. That was her reality. i had trapped her in the relationship. It wasn't true, but she was upset i travelled with work and could escape when she couldn't. It was never escape for me, i travelled because i had to. Her and the kids were all i wanted to be with. Travel to me was a chore.
Slowly she withdrew more. The more i tried to help and talk, the more she withdrew. All the time she was still paranoid, and now believed the neighbours were spying on her with cameras in the garden. the "cameras" were garden lights.
After three years of constant paranoia and her anxiety, it was starting to effect me. We couldn't go out in the area as she hated the neighbours. Yet to their faces she was bubbly and happy, smiley and almost overly kind. Yet when we were alone, the mask would slip and all her thoughts about them would spill out. Our social life started to be affected,
Anything i said was misunderstood or taken in such a way that i was insulting her. If i said she was silly for thinking in a certain way, i was calling her stupid. Anytime i tried to logic something out with her regarding the neighbours (for example she believed they were watching her shower) it was dismissed. I actually showered and told her to ask if she could see me from the garden. She was confused when she saw she couldn't.
The delusions became worse, and she became more and more paranoid. The textured glass in the bathroom was the wrong way around in her eyes, so people could see in. The motion activated light at the bottom of the garden was a camera, for sure. things like this.She withdrew more and more. I had to go away on a work trip, and the day before i left she asked for a divorce. I was hurt, but said "we can talk about it when i get home" when i arrived at the destination i was working across the world, i messaged her. No response. I tried multiple times until eventually i got a text "The kids will be taken away from me, and i will be sent back to my home country" I rang my father who lived very close to us to find out what was happening.
She had asked him to take her to the police station. She said to report the neighbours for spying, which she did try to do. they obviously didn't listen. She was taken to hospital by my father as she was having a mental breakdown and behaving strangely. I told my boss i had to fly home as something was happening. he booked me the earliest flight and i flew back. I was arrested from the plane. She had accused me of Rape, Control and coercion and ABH. Things i would never do. I was arrested, questioned and told not to go back to my home or to contact her. In one day i lost everything. I was in shock and was an emotional wreck. Worst of all i was concerned and scared for my wife and kids. She blamed me for her emotional state. said i had caused everything and had abused her constantly for years. After a week of staying at my friends house, social services got involved as the kids were missing school. It turns out she was taking the kids to hotels because she was terrified of staying at home. The kids told me later that "mummy thinks men are after her" instead of telling any authorities this, she said it was because she was scared of me. Social services believed everything she said. I was under investigation for the allegations, although not charged. The investigations were ongoing for three months, and in that time i wasn't allowed to contact her at all. Unfortunately in my fear i contacted her repeatedly. She had me arrested for harassment, and i was charged and convicted. I wasn't ever abusive in the texts, but i did contact her a lot.
I secured access to my children through a rushed family court order. I also placed a block on her leaving the country without seeking my permission with the children, as she had taken my passport details to apply for the kids passports without my knowledge. I did this due to her erratic behaviour and i knew she wasn't stable. My father thought i'd over-reacted, but my ex was so good at masking she hid how she really felt even to him. Oscar level masking.
Looking back i realise how bad it was. She ran from her home country at 18 and always ran. she always wanted to move jobs if something went wrong. She would cut off long term friends in an instant if she felt any pressure form them. Her first instinct would always be to flee anything. Any littlle insignificant thing or slight would become something she'd chew over for weeks, often applying the worst case scenario that would then become her reality. The truth was she was constantly afraid. I think at the end i became something she was afraid of too. My determination to keep us together and keep her from falling apart became too much for her. I wasn't always kind and was exasperated a lot. I was too demanding on someone that was exhausted, anxious and clearly unwell. Unfortunately i didn't realise this until too late. I still see the children, but have zero contact with her. She filed a restraining order due to the harassment conviction which i will adhere to. I'm currently going through family court again to secure further rights. She applied for full custody and has said some very terrible untruthful things at court to almost destroy me and remove me from her life. I'm a broken man because of it all, but staying strong for the kids.
I hope there will be some sort of resolution in the future, but i realise that she's scared of me now as she is scared of everything. She told me near the end that she trusts nobody. This broke my heart. The court on the last visit realised that something wasn't right. they have ordered a investigation into our family, and it will hopefully be reported in June when we go back to court. Her medical documents have been re-visited and statements taken. My father witnessed some very strange behaviour and has reported it. We just have to see what happens. She has requested to sell the property we lived in, and i'm slowly watching the life we built implode. She also has asked for the order that stipulates the need for permission to leave the country lifted. June will be the crunch time.

I’m a 15yr female Freshmen and have a crush on a guy even though I have a boyfriend. I know it sounds wrong, because it is, but I’ll explain further. Over this past year I have started developing feelings for a guy in my 6th period World cultures class. I’m just gonna use his initial, F. F is 15 turning 16 this summer and is the class clown. He’s so cute and in the beginning of the school year we would make eye contact a lot. He has messy blonde hair, which he’s always fixing in class, and two pretty blue eyes I love to get lost in. He’s so funny and though I was going to switch from World cultures in my 2nd quarter I chose not to just because of F being in there. In December I got his snap from my friend A and started trying to befriend him. I admired him a lot cause I was supper shy and seeing him just be himself was fun and wanted me to try and loosen up more. I swear he would walk into class and the room would brighten up. Whenever he gets embarrassed he hides his face in his hoodie and keeps that stupid ADORABLE smile on his face! In February I Gifted him a valentine to show my appreciation for him being such a nice guy and he was sweet about it. But then apparently this girl named Kate who he was talking(?) to at the time found out. And she hated me after. I didn’t know of this yet but her friends would sit by my locker eat day and when I went to go get my stuff from it they would make fun of me. I felt so upset cause I really have a hard time with my insecurities and Since I’m sensitive and would cry often because of it. I eventually just decided to just carry around the extra pound of stuff in my bag every day so I wouldn’t pass them. Then out of the blue F had blocked me. I felt so hurt and upset because he was the first friend I ever made by myself and I really valued him as a person in my life. I spent the week in tears and it didn’t make it better that he would then stare at me in class, almost like he was waiting to see how I would react to it. A week later I contact him on titkok and tell him that I was sorry if I made him uncomfortable and that I could switch classes if nessasary(due to my 504 i would’ve been granted permission to do so) He replied that I did nothing wrong and it was just he started talking to someone and they had him block me. I wished him luck on a concert he had coming up and then left him completely alone for days because I just couldn’t face him. I didn’t know what I had done to his girl but I felt so guilty I would get sick, I have a pretty weak stomach, I would throw up in the bathroom and cry a lot throughout the weeks. What made it worse is that my friend Z had at the time recently passed away, and since F was one of my favourite ppl to talk to that I trusted I was even more upset that I couldn’t talk to him. Then two weeks later as I’m finally trying to get over it Mr F unblocks me, throughout that whole week his friends had been snapping me stuff about how Felix was upset and wanted to unblock me but was afraid to(which I don’t understand it’s not like I bite). When he did it was a Thursday and he had a school concert I watched. He was on electric guitar. It was firefly’s by owl city, aka one of my fav songs. I loved watching him play, I was happy as a puppy😁 but then when I went to the bathroom to check my hair, my ex friend Madi came in. She asked if I liked him and I just got flustered. She then said he had said he liked her so it didn’t matter and she might say yes to him. I was confused because I had JUST been blocked because of his last talking stage! So how would he have also recently confessed to Madi? I go in 6th period and walk right up to him, I was a bit nervous cause I had to look up higher to meet his gaze. I asked if he had recently told Madi he had a crush on her in the past 2-3 weeks and he looks me in the eye and says no. I said “alr thanks“ and went back to talk to my friend. Either him or mad was lying, and I assumed madi but then oohhhhh then after school he admitted to confessing to her. It's 3:00am(quiet literally) and I'm at 10 percent, this is part one but I'll complete the rest tomorrow

I want to be clear when I say this isn’t a post bragging about my supposed “glow up” lol and also I am a man if that’s important info
It’s just that for most of my life I’ve heard “jokes” that felt more like insults from family, friends, strangers, anyone that thought it would be funny to call me fat and ugly to my face. Of course I internalized these comments and just decided that I wasn’t a very attractive person. Got older, decided to get healthy, start working out and eating right, grooming properly, the whole deal that everyone says you’re supposed to do. I decided to get back in the dating scene after years of avoiding it due to the aforementioned thoughts of being unattractive. A couple partners have now informed me that apparently my looks aren’t just tolerable, but I am hot! I thought this would be the happiest day of my life but now I just stand in the mirror staring at myself trying to see what they see and I just can’t. It’s actually slightly uncomfortable because while yes I am physically fit (and I guess stereotypically “hot”) it feels like the body doesn’t match the person I see it’s attached to. I’m working on my self talk and eliminating those old insults from my self perception but it’s much tougher than I thought.
Is anyone else going through this right now? Honestly all i need right now is some solidarity and understanding but any advice is also appreciated!

Hello, I recently moved to a whole new place where I don't know anybody but have managed to make a few friends that I connect well with and attend the same community club together.
This place is the straight up countryside so there aren't that many people in general in the same age range as me (26 M), but I happened to meet a girl that I felt like I connected particularly well with. we haven't gone on any dates or anything but the few times we have been alone together I have a lot of fun and can be open with her. Her friend told me that she has a long distance boyfriend, but the friend and the girl herself has told me that he's not that great a guy and that she is having issues with him such as him badmouthing things she likes, the girl herself, and is overall just an immature guy when it comes to relationships (they've been dating for around 1-2 months now at this point.
The girl has told me that when he came to visit and stay at her place, she told the guy she wanted to break up with him, that he started to cry and beg for her not to leave and that he'll change and what not, and because shes just a nice person overall and felt bad, they decided to keep the relationship going but has told me herself that if feelings don't come back to her that she's going to break up with him.
When we are together, its very fun and it feels like she often flirts with me and laughs at my jokes even when they aren't funny. She comes close to me to look at my phone (like faces inches apart), puts her hand on my thigh when we talk, and very casual flirty skinship like that. But my problem is that she's still with her boyfriend and cheating is out of the question for me and something I promised I'd never do or make anyone do after my last relationship where my ex cheated on me. I'm planning to tell her how I feel, but in a way that doesn't put pressure on her and force her into a kind of decision where she has to choose between me and the other guy. I'm going to make it clear that if she wants me to give up any romantic feelings that I will and we can continue to just be friends that hang out together in groups, but if she wants me to wait for her to break things off with her bf, i will wait.
I want to think that I've already decided to do this, but I also wanted to anonymously post about my situation and hear what others have to say about this particular situation or any others that have been in similar situations.

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

Saturday started out rough. So at 0445 my silly puppy starts barking at well probably one of the cats lets me honest (they like to torment her, cause she tormented them.) I get out of bed and go down stairs and hang out with her. Let her out quietly so everyone can stay asleep. Around 0600 she starts barking at a leaf or something so I frantically let her in so she doesn’t bother the neighbors who are very nice and I want to stay on their good sides. Let alone the fact she could wake the toddler and baby who are evil little monsters. I’m successful house is still asleep. I take her down and feed her. But she’s acting funny. (I didn’t put 2& 2 together yet about that.)
0730 rolls around and I hear the stirrings of a toddler and see movement on the baby monitor app. I rush up stairs to try to stem the tide of child chaos. They’re all awake and my wife is upset. So I propose we watch Pawpatrol in the room and I take care of them. She gladly accepts and proceeds to pass the baby off to me and falls back asleep. Around 830 the toddler gets restless and ends up waking her up. Again fucking upset like Goddamn it isn’t the extra fucking 4 hours of sleep out got more than me enough? Well here is the coup-de-grace of my epic failure of a day that lead to everything. I fucking had the gall to ask if she could take them and I could get alittle sleep too.
This one moment lead to what I feel is the pivotal day in my self deletion…
The first hour all I can hear is he complaining about every little thing screaming at our toddler and baby cause they’re fucking kids and don’t know any better (toddler knows but still doesn’t grasp somethings.) Que that anxiety laden heart throbbing BP spike. I come out and try to help. She dismisses me condescendingly saying “your sick you need sleep” I retorted “I can’t sleep when your acting like this” (yes I fucking know I’m a shitty man get fucked atleast I’m honest.) eventually she calms down some. However over the next two hours all I can hear is, husband did this, husband didn’t do that, husband isn’t doing enough. Eventually I had enough with the lines “I have XYZ to do and not enough time be nice if I had help.” Fuck it okay, I come out and walk in the room and castigated her. “ you know I’m fucked up still, I’m trying to sleep.” She just throws it back in my face about how she forced the kids and grandmas outside so the house would be quiet. (BUT THIS THE THE FUCKING PROBLEM THEY ARENT THE FUCKING PROBLEM.) no I never said that because I’m a pathetic coward.

INVERSE: "Although she helps maintain the warp engine and the spore drive on the eponymous starship in Star Trek: Discovery, Tig Notaro doesn’t want Trek fans to confuse her with her Starfleet counterpart, Jett Reno. “I would not be the person to go to get all the Star Trek information,” Notaro tells Inverse, with her signature deadpan delivery. “In fact they had asked me to host the Star Trek podcast a while back, and I almost had a stroke thinking about it.”
Yes, Notaro is just as naturally funny and disarming in an interview as she is doing stand-up comedy, or throughout all her appearances on Discovery. Starting in 2019, in Season 2, the comedian became a reoccurring presence, rescued by Captain Pike (Anson Mount) and Michael Burnham (Sonequa Martin-Green) from the downed starship USS Hiawatha, presumed lost during the Klingon War. Since then, Reno has jumped forward 930 years into the future with the rest of the crew, and as Discovery speeds toward its final few episodes, she’s around more, fixing technobabble Star Trek problems with a one-liner, and, lately, a cocktail recommendation.
As Discovery begins airing its final three episodes ever, Inverse caught up with the Notaro to talk about how she got here, what it’s like to perform stand-up at a Star Trek convention, and why she’s proud of her legacy in the Final Frontier.
[...]
In “Face the Strange,” she told a time-traveling Rayner she only drinks ice-cold Vespers, and in Episode 7, “Erigah” she mentions her prowess at making a cocktail called “Seven of Limes,” a clear pun about the popular Trek character, Seven of Nine. It all sounds like the kind of stuff Notaro would say in real life, in the context of her stand-up sets, but she says that she doesn’t ad-lib any of her Trek dialogue.
“I don't add the slightest thing,” Notaro insists. “That’s what’s so impressive about these writers. When Alex [Kurtzman] developed this character, he said that he went back and watched and listened to all of my standups. They really wanted to make it me. That’s why I always call it Tig-in-space.”
[...]
Although a veteran comedian, Notaro says that her role in Star Trek: Discovery has created an entirely new fanbase; people inspired by her character in the show, but who were largely unfamiliar with her as a stand-up.
“I did stand-up last year at the big Star Trek convention in Vegas,” Notaro explains. “It was just all of these people, I think, staring at me like, ‘oh, she does stand up?’ And it was a fun show. I can't say it was my best. I've been doing standup for almost thirty years, and I have a level of perfectionism to my performance whether people can see that or not. But the most redeeming part was afterward I did a meet and greet and the line was out the door of just the kindest people that were at that show. It was a real treat to actually talk with people afterwards.”
Unlike Han Solo, Scotty, or Bones, Notaro is a gay woman and plays a gay woman in Star Trek: Discovery. She’s not the first openly queer character in Trek, but because of Notaro’s heroic status in the LGBTQIA+ community, her presence in the hopeful context of the 32nd century of Discovery is more than just quips and one-liners.
She also says she knows that her legacy in Trek isn’t over and that she could always come back. But, if she doesn’t return to the Trek mythos soon, how might she feel if her legacy is described as a version of Scotty, but if Scotty was a queer woman? “Oh I’m fine with that description,” Notaro says. “One thousand percent yes. My God yes. Absolutely.” "
Link (Inverse):
https://www.inverse.com/entertainment/star-trek-discovery-tig-notaro-interview-season-5

hey everyone. im at my wits end with this and need some advice. my son [M7] has recently started believing he’s invisible. it started a few weeks ago when he watched a magic show on tv where the magician made people disappear. since then, he’s convinced himself that he has the same power.
at first, it was kinda cute and funny. he’d sneak around the house saying “you can’t see me” and try to steal cookies or avoid bedtime. but lately, it’s become a real problem. he’s been acting out at school, running away from teachers and saying they can’t see him. yesterday, he tried to walk across the street without looking because “cars can’t see me.” thank god i was there to stop him.
we’ve tried explaining to him that invisibility isn’t real, but he just thinks we’re part of the trick. his older sister [F10] tried to prove it by taking a video of him, but he just says the camera can’t see him either. its really starting to affect his behavior and safety, and we don’t know what to do.
i’m worried that this could be more than just a phase. should we be seeing a professional about this? has anyone else experienced something similar with their kids? any advice on how to handle this would be appreciated. we’ve tried talking to him calmly, using logic, even a little bit of tough love, but nothing seems to get through to him.
he’s a smart kid and usually very imaginative, but this is just too much. how do i break the illusion without breaking his spirit? feeling really lost here. thanks for any help you can offer.

Well well well, isn’t this a tale. It is long, but it is really funny imo. Me (ftm14) and my friends (m14), (nb13) and (nb14) were hanging out in town. We’re gonna call them Paul, Printer, and Leaf. We got chips, we chatted, and we were enjoying a nice weather Sunday after a week of it being cold and raining (southern hemisphere).
Anyway, it’s around 3:30pm and we are playing in the playground because we are still techinically children and it’s a climbing frame, who wouldn’t want to climb it. When a "friend" of ours we hadn’t seen for two/three years (f13) we’ll call her Ginger, shows up at the park with two boys who look her age or younger, we’ll call them Green Shirt and Black Shirt. Ginger comes and says hi to us, acting all nice and friendly. We chat for a few minutes, then she goes on the swings with Green and Black shirt.
After about 15 minutes, my friends and I decide to go do something else because Paul had to go very soon, this is where the annoyance begins. As I’m getting off, Green Shirt comes up to me and asks if I’m a furry (in the derogatory way kids are asking that these days) of which I am not, I politely respond no. He then asks if I have a Fursuit — of which I don’t — and I politely respond no again. He keeps pestering me about it so I tell him to piss off and my friends and I walk to another part of the park to hang out.
Paul leaves to go home, and Leaf and Printer — who are both furries and therians or something, I’m not up on the lingo — decide to practice doing quads(running and jumping on all fours). I let them do their thing and scroll on my phone, until Green Shirt comes back. (Paraphrasing because we swear a lot) “Hey I have an interview!” He asks, “What do you want?” We respond. “What’s it like in the furry world?” He asks, in a derogatory way. Us: “What do you mean? We’re in the normal world” Him: *snickering* “oh my god I didn’t know animals could talk!”
We very impolitely tell him to go f*ck himself, and he goes back to spread gossip to Ginger and Black shirt. We notice as we walk off that Green Shirt has a scooter, he also looks like he’s nine. Oh, and he’s wearing a helmet. Of course safety is nice, but he looked so funny becuase he was wearing a motorbike helmet. On a scooter. The scooter wasn’t even electric, it was a normal scooter.
As we left the part to walk through the towns main street, he came up to us on his manual scooter with his motorbike helmet, calling us furries, calling our genders not real (we hadn’t even told him our gender) and other things like that before repeatedly going back to talk with Ginger and Black shirt. I commented to my friend that while he is mocking our gender, he looks like a child and I probably have more testosterone in my body than him (I’m still biologically female, he really did look like a child).
This was when my friends had an idea, they discussed it and I listened, but I didn’t think that green shirt was gonna come back. ..then, Green Shirt came back.
Green shirt: “you guys are furries!” My friends: (high pitched, annoying and patronizing) “OH MY GOSH YOURE SO SKIBIDI SIGMA! I LOVE YOUR HELMET POOKIE BEAR SAFETY FIRST LETS GO! SLAYYYY WE LOVE YOU OH MY GOSH YOU HAVE SO MUCH GYATT, YOURE SO SKIBIDI!!!”
His confidence shattered, but he didn’t just stop there, oh no no, he tried ignoring them first. I still wasn’t saying that to him, I was just laughing. He asked me, “what’s your gender?” I ignored his question, “what’s your gender?” I asked him back. He said in a less and less confident voice, “I’m a man!”. “How so?” I responded. He said smugly, “I have a pole”.
..I genuinely misheard him and thought he said he was the hulk, so I said “you’re the HULK?! I really don’t think so you’re arms are twigs,” Him, getting increasingly exasperated as my friends are still screaming that he is sigma; “NO! I said I have a pole!”. …I proceeded to gesture dramatically at a metal pole that was conveniently near where we were sitting, I was yelling “OH MY GOSH ITS YOUR POLE! NO WAY I GUESS THE POLE IS A MAN TOO! I GUESS ANYONE NEAR THE POLE IS A MAN! YOU HAVE A METAL POLE SO YOURE A MAN WELL DONE!!”
My friends joined in. It was chaos. He couldn’t think of anything to say, all of his insults were unoriginal from the beginning, but all he said to us as he went back was that we had mental issues, we were mentally r*tarded, and he called as f*cking furry c*nts in frustration. He went back down the hill, but then Ginger and Black Shirt came walking up with Green Shirt.
My friends proceeded to continue calling them skibidi sigmas, while I was there for the witty one liners I all of a sudden happened to have. Green shirt literally scooted on his scooter to the other side of the road to get away from us (we were just sitting on a bench), his motorbike helmet and metal pole and all.
Black shirt called us mentally r*tarded, while I yelled at Ginger; some context: Ginger and I had been friends since preschool, we drifted apart after like year 5, but we still texted sometimes until I went to high school. As Ginger and Black shirt crossed the road, I yelled; “Ginger, GINGER! I thought we were friends! Why are you being mean?!”
Ginger replied defensively, “I’m not doing anything!”. ..by this time you could tell all three of them were thinking /we/ were harassing /them/, green and black shirt looked legit terrified even from the other side of the road. They were also feeling embarrassed now, because we were yelling things to across the road in a busy street. My friends and I didn't care about public humiliation, they were in for it.
I yelled to ginger, “ginger! Ginger! GINGER!” I had her attention, “We’ve been friends since preschool! We’ve been friends since we were four!” I could see green and black shirt look at her almost disgusted, I continued, “WHY ARE YOU LETTING YOUR FRIENDS BE MEAN?! WEVE BEEN FRIENDS SINCE WE WERE KIDS!” (Please note this all happened in about three minutes, so my friends are still yelling about them all having rizz and being pookie bears)
…they don’t respond. They just continue walking up the hill and I tell my friends we should walk back down near the park because I needed to start walking home.
As we walked down the hill — still quite shocked we had used our collective braincell to get back at a bully — we could hear Ginger, Green shirt and Black shirt arguing with each other, but they were too far away we could only guess what about.
It’s been an hour and I can’t stop smiling, I found this sub through The Click and I hope my story fits here.

I just wanted to share my experience here and as I had never seen something like this and I actually had an OVERWHEMINGLY positive experience with this surgery. I realise there is luck + age(29) involved but pre-hab really paid off.
There will be a tl;dr + my final PREHAB exercises.
On march 3rd I tore my MCL (2nd degree) + ACL (full tear) + Lateral meniscus (2nd degree leision) from my MRI. I couldn’t bear any weight and upon ER visit I was given a brace.
First 30 days I wore the brace (because of the torn MCL which requires it to heal on its own) and could only put a very minimal amount of weight on my injured leg. Did that, then started PT on day 30.
Day 30 after injury - had no muscle on my leg, couldn’t bend my knee at all. Had my first PT session where they removed my brace. I started PT 3 times a week at a sports centre where they also worked with the best surgeons in my city. PT was kind of painful and started out slow but it was getting better each day. On week 2 of PT I started doing all the exercises at home on rest days, so basically I did PT 7 times per week.
Day 60 after injury - was supposed to have my surgery here but my Physio suggested to my surgeon to delay. I still went for a check up where my surgeon said he could have done the surgery that week and it was good enough but I/We declined and opted in to wait another 2 weeks of PT. At this point in time my leg was still a bit stiff but after warming up I could bend it properly. My extension was also pretty good / flat but couldn’t match my hyperextension.
Day 60 - 74 after injury - I kept going hard at PT for the last two weeks before surgery, sometimes I did PT at home twice, even went for stationary bike at the gym. At this point for the extra added two weeks, my leg actually started feeling like my own leg again. The progress, as suggested by my PT, was INSANE. Day and night difference. Some days still felt a bit stiff but I was able to lower the bicycle seat a lot, gained a bunch of muscle back, swelling in the mornings was VERY minimal. I could sleep on my side etc. I felt like a normal person again. Sure I could only walk slowly but I didn’t have ANY limp anymore, so much that car drivers would get annoyed at me at crossroads for walking slowly.
Day 75 after injury - SURGERY DAY. I went in pretty nervous but I talked to my PT who as I mentioned also worked at the clinic and was there right before my surgery. He gave me encouraging words but I was still in panic mode. My turn for surgery came, went in, had the ?partial anasthesia where you stop feeling your legs which felt super weird to me. I was still pretty nervous and kind of shivering so they asked if I wanted full anasthesia or just some sort of drugs added to my systems to relax. I said I wanted the funny thing (LOL) and sure enough, the nurse puts in the funny thing and within what felt like 30 seconds, I started laughing in my head and hearing my own voice saying funny shit like “lol finally getting surgery this shits cool haha”. It felt super weird as my anxiety disappeared within seconds. That’s when the surgeon popped in my view and told me the good news - my meniscus had healed properly (as well as the MCL) since I wore the brace for 30 days after injury and did prehab. The guys at my prehab place did tell me most times with the brace and prehab the meniscus can fix itself but I didn’t think that would be my case. So when surgeon told me I did a big thumbsup, laughed a bit and said some dumb shit like “awesome” lol. My entire 2 hour ACL surgery felt like 5 minutes after they had put in the “relax” drug. I loved it, I barely remember any of it other than seeing my leg being thrown around a bit. DEFINITELY ASK FOR THE FUNNY DRUG IT MADE ME SO CALM AND HAPPY (I never do any other drugs, rarely drink etc but this felt like getting verrrryyy tipsy right before going black out drunk usually lol). Surgery’s done, it’s a success, they send me back to my room. This place also uses drainage for 48hr so you stay in the clinic. I kept waiting for the pain to arrive but I was so buzzed up with the funny things and kept telling each nurse how good the stuff they put in me was LOL. I probably still looked worried as they kept making jokes about me being very worried and how they’d take care. They kept asking me if I had any pain and that’s when I used my REDDIT KNOWLEDGE and told them my pain was 1/10 but I heard you wanna take meds preemptively as if you feel any pain - meds not gonna work. Some time passed and they gave me the hardcore painkillers in my veins. They had some “program” where they give you stuff each 4 hours. I felt NO PAIN AT ALL. My accident felt WORSE than laying in the hospital bed post op. I kept waiting for the pain to arrive but it never did.
ONE DAY POST OP - I was playing on my switch when at about 9 AM my PT storms into the room and starts telling me to quit playing lmao. He asked me if I could do a leg raise, and sure enough I could. I knew I could because while laying down I kind of kept checking my mind muscle connection and even after surgery I could still feel my muscles. He tells me to do 25 and he’ll be back later. Mind you, 25 leg raises with a drainage and a heavy-ish brace, under painkillers that were given me an hour earlier as part of the 1 per 4 hour things. But I was able to do them.
Fast forward one hour and my PT is back. He’s telling me that we’re gonna start walking. I’m happy and get up. Immedietely a bit lightheaded so I took some water and was standing up on two crutches. They had previously shown me how to use crutches at PT, so I tried to walk as fast and normal looking as possible. To my shock, 3 steps in, my PT literally laughed and KICKED THE BACK OF MY OPERATED LEG and said “go faster nothing to worry about, I don’t gave much time here lol”. The kick kinda hurt but it made me more confident walking. I did about 10-15 steps on two crutches, he told me to not lean on them but just use for balance. Did some more steps and he literally grabbed one of my crutches and ran away laughing. Told me that I only need one and sure enough - I could walk with one crutch (and the basic support brace). He then taught me how to go up and down stairs and gave me 6 exercises to do in my hospital bed. I did them and that was it. He said “no limit on walking and bear as much weight as you can”. I literally couldn’t believe it. Day ONE post op, one crutch. I had NEVER even read a story like that on this sub. Felt crazy good to know that doing the 6 weeks PT with him saved me so much trouble. As a side note, the other patients in my room, some of which with the same doctor felt TRAMENDOUS amount of pain, couldn’t sleep, kept hearing them do little screams from the pain etc. etc. etc. I was the only one who did extreme PT before surgery from my room.
Day 2 post op - had drainage AND BRACE removed and was told to only rest up to not have any more swelling (drainage is used to remove swelling basically). So I laid around in the hospital bed, got up to the toilet a few times and could only walk with one crutch no brace and that was day 2.
Day 3 post op - I went home, managed to fit in car front seat, did the exercises I was told to do and could sort of walk one crutch only to get around even tho it was not easy and felt a bit sus.
——
My FINAL PRE-OP list of PT EXERCISES in the correct order: 1. 12-15 minutes of stationary bike on the lowest possible seat where I felt no pain or light in my knee. 2. 3x15 or climbing up a stair, as high as I could. You put your injured leg on the stair, you climb up with your other leg and then put the other leg back on the ground. At this time I could do a pretty good height on this exercise and do slow negatives. The height was about 3 standart staircase steps or 3x a regular stepper. 3. 3x20 slowly walking down a stair, from as high as possible. Walking down was harder for me, so my maximum was about 2 steps high (66% of climbing). You step on the top step and use your healthy leg to touch the ground and then “jump” back up on your injured leg which never leaves the higher step. 4. 4x20 Squatting on a very low bench. Basically slowly sitting down to something as low as you can while making sure to bend your knees equally. I could do this at two steps heigh where my knees would bend quite a bit more than 90 degrees. Still felt a bit of pain here 5. Walk around for 30-60 sec instead of rest between all of these. If I had energy left, I would add in a few mins at the bike at a lower seat.
That’s it, do all of them as slowly as possible. I did these sometimes twice a day if I had the willpower and my knee felt good. Also used ice after doing them sometimes and made sure to have mind muscle connection and use my injured leg as much as possible. ——-
Tldr; DO PRE-HAB. Managed to walk one crutch only DAY ONE after ACL reconstruction with a temporary brace that was removed day two and went out of the hospital on just one crutch. Only minor pain after surgery 2/10. A bit painful to walk around and bear weight but that’s as expected. Do your prehab because others in my room couldn’t walk at all and were in agonizing pain for 3 days after surgery.
Thanks for reading, I hope this post is helpful for fellow sports lovers. I am 29 years old / 6’1 / 180 lbs, did mostly bodybuilding at the gym and bicycle.

I have my fair share of problems and insecurities that i deal with everyday like everyone else but everytime i try to talk about them i always feel like what im saying is stupid invalid and i always feel unfulfilled after i poorly convey what im feeling. I dont know how to cope with these problems. 1. My loneliness My loneliness has always been a problem. Its made me depressed anxious desperate and its made me an attention seeker. In any social situation im always trying to get all the attention on me by making jokes or saying the most outrageous lies so people will see me and when they dont i feel bad. My friends always call me out on my attention seeking and i never let them know it bothers me but it does. I feel small and i want to be noticed and wanted and desired but nobody feels that for me. I always go out of my way to talk and call people but its hardly ever reciprocated and that makes me feel even worse. It also doesnt help that i have trouble with women. I crave intimacy with women who i have romantic interest in platonic interest in and even no interest in and its lead me to get with some questionable women just because im so desperate, i dont even care half the time. And when i do luck out and have a relationship with a girl its always short toxic or unfulfilling. Majority of the time its my fault for that because when i do land a good thing with a girl i treat them horribly like i dont care if they leave me or not but i always regret it because when theyre gone i feel even more alone but i often ignore the fact that it ended because of me which leads me to my narcissist tendencies 2. My narcissism Every relationship I’ve ever been in has ended because I treat them horribly and I see no problem with it. I always believe that there’s nothing wrong with the way that I treat these women and it often falls on my friends to help me realize what I’ve done wrong, because I often feel like I have done no wrong to them and it confuses me when they leave me. Ive said some horrible things, and done horrible things to alot of sweet girls all because of my nonchalant i dont care attitude and it always back fires on me in the end because i always feel alone and desperate after the fact. Im my own worst enemy it’s not even with women it’s with my friends to. I say horrible things just for the sake of being horrible and when they get upset at me, it’s almost like an instinct for me to believe that they’re being sensitive and I’m not wrong for what I did or said, what is wrong with me I’ve learned a little bit, but the narcissism is still there 3. My empathy or lack there of I’ve heard that narcissists have lots of problems with empathy, and I most definitely have a lack of empathy for others around me. I’ve always had trouble feeling for other people and understanding how my actions affect others and it’s ruined a lot of relationships that I’ve had with people and women. just the other day my friends were talking to me about how I don’t ever think about how what I do affects others around me and I’m not sure if it’s because I just don’t care or if it’s like an inability to and it’s also confuses me. I try sometimes to feel for other people, but I often feel like it’s superficial like I don’t understand why they’re mad but I see why they’re mad so it makes me feel bad and if i care enough ill apologize. Growing up affection and emotions were never some things that were important and I’d say 90% of my childhood. None of that was ever expressed. I’m not sure if that’s a factor of why I have problems empathizing with people but I’m sure it’s a reason one of them at least. I have ADHD, and I’ve often thought that I am on the spectrum because emotional intelligence has never been my strong suit. It used to be even worse years ago, but I’ve had a lot of bad experiences that have allowed me to learn, but it’s still not enough. And it makes me sad because I do care for the people around me and how they view me but When I feel like I’ve been called out, I get defensive and I get mean and I say things that I shouldn’t have but I’m so caught up in my own emotions that I see no wrong with what I’ve done because I’m trying to make them feel worse than how I do 4. My insecurity with my height I am extremely insecure with my height. All my friends are tall and I am so jealous of them. It makes me honestly kind of resent them and when they tell me their problems, I often think how could you feel this bad when you’ve been gifted with height? I try not to think about it, but I think about it all the time when I go out when I hang out with my friends before I go to bed when I wake up when I go to work when I go to school when I look at my parents when I look at my siblings. It follows me everywhere. I feel small like I don’t matter because I am small and I don’t know how to cope with that because I can’t change it. I’m sure that it’s a big factor for my attention, seeking because. when I’m with my friends that are tall there and noticed, and they do it effortlessly, but for me, I feel like I have to try to be noticed by being a fool I’m self-destructive, because I am insecure when people call me out on my bullshit a double down and I try to find anything that I could use to hurt them. It doesn’t matter if they trusted me with the information and when they are hurt because of me, I don’t care because they make me feel insecure and I try not to let them know that Which makes me look like an even bigger piece of shit because that’s how a lot of people know Me. People either think of me as autistic,a fool, A liar, a narcissist, a piece of shit and attention seeking a little kid or whatever else I don’t know. what do I do 5. What do i do How do I talk with this the loneliness the desperation, the narcissism the empathy, the insecurity how am I supposed to fight that I’ve done a lot of things I’ve isolated myself I’ve tried not to think about it. I’ve poured myself in the weed. I’ve talked about it I’ve cried about it. I’ve written about it, but nothing ever helps in at the end of the day I’m still the same. I don’t want to feel like this anymore I don’t wanna feel hopeless and like I hate myself I don’t wanna feel alone anymore. I don’t know what else to do these last couple of years. I’ve just been ignoring it because I’ve been surrounded by friends but now it’s just me and I can’t help to think about how lonely I am, and how desperate I am for any kind of intimacy I don’t want to get bad like I used to be but I’m kinda afraid that I will because sooner or later If I keep feeling like I am hopelessly alone, I’m gonna start acting reckless like I used to getting depressed but what are you guys think? Any advice or help? I just don’t know where else to turn. Thanks. This is a lot I’m sorry.

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.

I’m(21f) so ashamed of myself and my life at the moment. I have the same problems I’ve had for the past 8 years that nobody understands but keeps telling me the same thing, giving me the same advice.
It makes me feel so bad because it’s like you can’t be good in one area and not the next, you can’t be working on it, you have to already be perfect. People tell you to socialize more talk more, but when you’re not good at it they run the other way cause talking to someone else would be easier.
People want you to have more self esteem and look presentable but put you down when you don’t even if you tried. All they see is the outside, I don’t expect them to understand my problems in depth and I’ve learned my lesson about confiding in people but when they judge like they do know everything it’s upsetting.
I want things too, I want love and friendship but then I look at the state of my life and think who’s gonna wanna be friends with someone with those problems or whose gonna be attracted to this which is true I even turn myself off.
My mom will literally bug me about if I wanna get married, if I wanna have a husband and then say things to me and treat me in a way that has me thinking who’ll ever love someone like me, who’ll ever respect this, funny isn’t it.
So it’s like there’s no winning. You have to be perfect or nothing. You can’t fix your life because it’s too messed up and working on one aspect is impossible without the other aspect already being fixed.

Hey everyone! Random Appalachian here. I just wanted to check back in with you all and provide some updates, as well as some exciting, if personal, news. I have to type this quick, as my work break ends soon, so pardon any typos, grammatical errors, or weirdly structured sentences.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a park ranger in real life, and work at a wildlife reserve in Ohio. We’ve been having some issues with vandalism in our northern woods for a few months, and despite our best attempts, haven’t been able to find the culprit. It’s been immensely frustrating, especially when more paint has shown up on more trails, ranging from slashes, lines, and crosses, to dots and even letters. Normally we wouldn’t get too bent out of shape over a few trees being painted, but it’s well over 60 at this point, and widespread throughout the forest. None of the official people who help us maintain the trails in that area say they are responsible, and yet many of the markings seem to be blazes for trails. However the markings are at times absurdly close together, or in abstract places that make no logical sense. One “trail” is no more than perhaps 30 yards long and runs right along a massive clearing in a semi-circle, within plain sight of the clearing, and goes to nowhere; it goes into the woods, and pops back out into the clearing only 30-ish yards away. Most of our established trails that have been painted already have well-made trail markings of our own, and the trails are well-blazed. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to why these things are there at all. I don’t think it’s anything sinister, though the painter has left his/her paint cans in the woods before, so at the very least, they’re a litterbug. There is the concern about potential poaching, which can be a problem in our area. Sure, deer and turkey are commonplace in my rural community, but they are only that way because of conservation and game laws that keep populations intact. Local hunters play a big part in conservation, and if someone starts taking more than their fair share through poaching, that means less for everyone else, and upsets the balance of things. The sad thing is, unlike legal hunters who often hunt for meat for their families, (food is expensive nowadays) poachers usually do it for trophies, antlers, or ‘fans’ from the turkey tail-feathers. But our painter has yet to take any game to our knowledge. We’ve found no gut piles, blood, or discarded gear anywhere. So, if he’s not poaching . . . what on earth does he want?
Then a few weeks ago, we did find a camera inside our central perimeter.
To put this into perspective, we have roughly 10,000 acres to our little reserve. Only 1/3 is fenced in, containing our exotic animals for our tours, and our buildings that we use to operate. Offices, mechanical garages, barns, and storage sheds, that sort of thing. Usually if we have trespassing issues, it's in the northern woods, which is open to the public for walking/biking trails. Sometimes in the southern prairie reserve we get some wanderers, but it's pretty open, so people tend to shy away from it. But our interior, the central area, most of which is fenced in, is sacred ground for us. We have a children’s camp in there for kids to learn about nature, we have our animal barns, and even some staff housing. For people to walk around in there would be like a stranger walking through your bedroom at night, while you’re in the shower.
Not cool. Not cool at all.
One of our ecology survey teams found the camera in a lesser-used section a mile or so north of the children’s camp. Naturally, they assumed it was one of ours, until one of the staff innocently asked another ranger why we’d put a camera by that lake. When the ranger told her that we didn’t have any cameras there, it began to sink in.
We either have two trespassers, or the painter has decided to move his game further into our land.
I’m hoping it’s the former, that I’m overthinking things, but after all, the mystery painter had to have seen a few of the trail cameras we put up in the north to catch him. Could he be doing this as a form of tit-for-tat? I don’t know, but it’s got us rangers frustrated, and our ecology team is spooked. It was fun and games in the unpopulated north, but now he’s getting close to our people, our guests, and our animals. This is serious now. We removed the camera, but there’s not really much we can do without more patrols, more cameras, and more rangers. With our budget already restricted, the last part just isn’t possible.
My foray into trail cameras yielded no results as to a culprit. In fact, the day I came in early to pull them out of the field, it seemed nothing went right. Only two came off the tree, as I forgot the keys for the locks for the other two. I couldn’t find the last one at first, and darkness fell before I could locate it, so that I was wandering around in the northern district in the blackness searching for it. Inadvertently this helped me find the camera in the end; I saw the red light flash as it took my picture and was able to retrieve the SD card. It was in my long return trek to the patrol truck that I discovered the marks on a remote trail I hadn’t walked yet. A capital O and a capital N were scrawled in various places, with dots over the letters. I took German in university, so I know they aren’t grammatical marks from that language, known as umlauts (pronounced as “oomlout” for my fellow English speakers; for all my German speakers, if I spelled that wrong, I apologize). I’d left my phone in the truck (stupid rookie move for a seasoned ranger, I know) so I couldn’t take any photos, and didn’t want to follow the trail too far in the pitch dark. I had a flashlight with spare batteries, as well as my gun (I’m not a complete moron after all) but I didn’t have time to do much exploring, since I had other duties in the park that were waiting on me. I had some VIP’s that were coming in late, and had to be escorted, which meant I had to clamber back to my truck, swatting at mosquitos the whole way. Nothing on the cameras showed any definitive proof, though we might have a lead on a guy with a bow case on his back. Could be nothing though; it’s not illegal to wear camo or carry things, and it could very well have been a camera case, a backpack, or an empty bow case.
In any event, we rangers are working on a strategy for changing up our patrol routes and putting more cameras in the field, as well as checking in on the children’s camp frequently throughout the night. So far, this mystery person hasn’t actually hurt anything that we know of, but even if this is just local kids having a prank, it’s not funny anymore.
Anyway, on to the other news. For the aforementioned reasons, as well as others, I’ve been super swamped this past month, and so writing on the third book in the Barron County trilogy has been slow. I wanted to release it at the beginning of June, but at this rate, I’m going to have to push that back to late June, possibly early July. I hate to think I’ve disappointed you all, but it’s just not ready yet. That, and I’ve been busy with something else . . . something big.
I’m getting married next week.
It’s been a long time coming, but my fiancé and I are super excited. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and have been best friends since forever. We’ve both been running like chickens with our heads cut off to get everything ready, and naturally, we’re both exhausted/somewhat nervous. Our honeymoon will require some flying, and since my fiancé has never been on a plane before, that’s a point of nervousness for her. I’m sure she’ll be fine once we’re in the air, but until then, she’s a bundle of nerves.
All that is to say, I am working on the story, it’s just taking a bit. I cannot wait to get back into the swing of things for all of you and thank you again for your supreme patience in this. You guys and gals are great, and entertaining you all is a massive privilege. Stay tuned for the third installment of the Barron County trilogy, and the epic conclusion of Hannah Brun’s journey into the unknown! Until next time.

I chug what little nasty warm energy drink I got left sitting in the consul of my truck and head to the ER. I get there and they have a room for me almost immediately. I sit there in agony as they get the info they need. Que the Dr. she walks in sees my face and looks at my BP 187/113 just says… “I’m really glad you came in” (I low key think this is funny cause the way I dress and talk I thought of all the farmers memes about them going in and Dr.s instantly freaking out over it)
I instantly get hit with morphine and finally pass out for a-little. An hour passes they get me into a holding room for admitted patients. Then hit me with more morphine once it’s safe. I’m in and out of consciousness, they keep hitting me with pain killers and my BP is finally around a stable level 130-150/ 60-90. The pain is still there but the stress response is gone. They finally get me to my room maybe 4-5 hours after admission. Whole time I’ve been getting hit with morphine and finally IV antibiotics as well as some type of steroid. ENT Doc comes immediately says “listen… the IV antibiotics are going to stop the spread right now but your eye is already becoming inflamed and you have a huge abscess. Suggests he drain it, and no fucking shit I’m all for it. An hour passes or so it’s around 2:45p they roll me into surgery. Hit me with fucking fentanyl and I’m fucking gone. Wake up and the pain is gone the pressure too I’m floating… and can’t fucking swallow for about 30 minutes. (Fuck it beats the agony.)
This was fucking Tuesday… Wednesday was spent all in the hospital but because of bed space they ask if they can discharge me. Tell me to stay with the antibiotics I got and I’m free. (On this front I’m finally clear.)
I get home. Instantly I’m met with demands from my wife. I try to fulfill them but I’m fucked. Entire fucking time she’s locating about how I need to rest but pushing me in all the directions. My puppy who is an absolute snuggle tyrant causes chaos whining at night so I wander downstairs where he stays over night and end up sleeping down there keeping her calm. Occasionally woken up to a cold nose but n the leg.
Next day. Also may I add my mom came up in a fury to help out even though she has nearly no PTO and it’s the busy time of year for a corn geneticist. (They plant and do shit at weird times). My wife disappears for the first time this whole experience. (Please note also on top of all this shit my infant son has been home sick from daycare) my mom hold my little tyrant all day keeping him happy. I finally get some rest slept about 6 hours that night and then 7 during the day. I wake up and try to be social as possible. My son appears to be doing better so my sickly mother in law comes over. To help out, I’m awake and able to do things alike be it very slowly.

Hey guys. My mom has always been really unwell mentally but It's getting to a point where I feel like I need to start making a plan for her.
I grew up with drug-addicted parents but my mom was the one who stuck it out and stayed with me. She no longer does drugs ( She was mostly just drugged by my dad, But occasionally she did meth herself so she could stay up later and work longer hours) but shes a hoarder. It's weird to say but she "hoarded me" too. She didn't tell any of my family members that we didn't have hot water or access to heating or food for years. CPS came to my house and my aunt took me in when she found out when i turned 14. She gets very angry when I bring it up, even just the hoarding or advice about curbing her spending. She always has. My mom has been evicted at least 4 times, I lost count. She never showered regularly or brushed her teeth regularly or took care of herself regularly at all. It's gotten to the point where her health is so bad that she can no longer hold in her urine very well. She now constantly smells like urine, and leaks urine in her daipers everywhere she sits.
The worst part is that she's a nurse. She takes people's blood on a regular basis. She is completely functional at her job. But when it comes to being around me in person, she almost sounds psychotic. She points out parts of my body that she thinks are cute and funny because they've "developed" so i look "grown". Im 29 years old. She keeps trying to sleep in my bed whenever I visit because she wants to cuddle with me. I'm having to explain with her that i have boundaries that are healthy but she just doesn't understand and she doesn't really care. She just sits and watches TV and pees on herself.
I moved across the country and have lived across the country for about 2 years. She often sounds intelligent over the phone, but when I visit she acts like a sad little puppy. Her car is filled completely to the brim with her hoard. Even walking up the stairs makes her so tired that she makes a big deal out of it. She wants pity really badly from me and whenever I visit I have to pay for everything. She gives me a lot of bullshit reasons why she doesn't have money, but she works more than 40 hours a week. Her rent is only $400 because she lives in a spare room that her friend has. I tell her this doesn't add up and she just gets angry with me and starts talking about how she keeps pissing herself and passing out at her job from period blood loss because her health is deteriorating. The doctor's really struggle to diagnose her because she didn't have a papsmear in over 30 years. (Which I don't believe but they have no idea how to prove it or disprove it)
The thing is my mom is mentally unwell but she does a lot of this to herself, And she acts like she has no idea so I have no idea if she's playing a martyr or if she's actually unwell. My boyfriend says that I have to just let her be her, she acts so sad and pathetic around me, it guilt trips me so badly. And it sucks because my mom is so friendly to everyone so people love her. She even tells me things like " Your number one you can do anything! You're such an amazing person you're better than anyone else in the world!!" At first I used to love the attention but I realized later I think her entire interactions with me are starting to verge on love bombing. And when I'm physically around her she sees me as a source of pity and attention. But she's also peeing on herself now and her health is deteriorating so bad that she can barely climb stairs or walk far distances. Shes only 58. Yet she drinks multiple bottles of Mountain Dew daily. Her mother was severely depressed, wasted away on the couch for years, and died from an anurism at 62.
When do you step in? This is going to sound incredibly harsh but... do your parents have to earn that help? My mom has been mentally ill my entire life so I have no idea what she's supposed to act like. I've never had a normal parent, I don't know where to start I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I already told myself that I would never take care of my father but I have no idea what to do with my mother. She's convinced all my family members to pity her but they would never lend her money. She's just acts so pathetic that people feel sorry for her and I don't really know what to do because she's way stronger and better than that. Every time I tried to talk to her about her retirement she just brings up my dad and how he ruined her life, It's almost like she just doesn't want to move forward and only wants to lean on me. She hypnotized by the television too, Even as a child I noticed that my mom would miss appointments and completely destroy vacations ( There rare ones that we were able to have) by getting stuck just watching tv.
Please help me figure out what I am supposed to do with her. I have to remind her to change her diaper so she doesn't smell like piss when I visit. When I visit her it feels like I'm dealing with a toddler... Do you think her brain is deteriorating? How the hell is she still able to do her job?? This doesn't add up and I feel gas lit I don't know how to feel I don't know what to do....

Hey guys. My mom has always been really unwell mentally but It's getting to a point where I feel like I need to start making a plan for her.
I grew up with drug-addicted parents but my mom was the one who stuck it out and stayed with me. She no longer does drugs ( She was mostly just drugged by my dad, But occasionally she did meth herself so she could stay up later and work longer hours) but shes a hoarder. It's weird to say but she "hoarded me" too. She didn't tell any of my family members that we didn't have hot water or access to heating or food for years. CPS came to my house and my aunt took me in when she found out when i turned 14. She gets very angry when I bring it up, even just the hoarding or advice about curbing her spending. She always has. My mom has been evicted at least 4 times, I lost count. She never showered regularly or brushed her teeth regularly or took care of herself regularly at all. It's gotten to the point where her health is so bad that she can no longer hold in her urine very well. She now constantly smells like urine, and leaks urine in her daipers everywhere she sits.
The worst part is that she's a nurse. She takes people's blood on a regular basis. She is completely functional at her job. But when it comes to being around me in person, she almost sounds psychotic. She points out parts of my body that she thinks are cute and funny because they've "developed" so i look "grown". Im 29 years old. She keeps trying to sleep in my bed whenever I visit because she wants to cuddle with me. I'm having to explain with her that i have boundaries that are healthy but she just doesn't understand and she doesn't really care. She just sits and watches TV and pees on herself.
I moved across the country and have lived across the country for about 2 years. She often sounds intelligent over the phone, but when I visit she acts like a sad little puppy. Her car is filled completely to the brim with her hoard. Even walking up the stairs makes her so tired that she makes a big deal out of it. She wants pity really badly from me and whenever I visit I have to pay for everything. She gives me a lot of bullshit reasons why she doesn't have money, but she works more than 40 hours a week. Her rent is only $400 because she lives in a spare room that her friend has. I tell her this doesn't add up and she just gets angry with me and starts talking about how she keeps pissing herself and passing out at her job from period blood loss because her health is deteriorating. The doctor's really struggle to diagnose her because she didn't have a papsmear in over 30 years. (Which I don't believe but they have no idea how to prove it or disprove it)
The thing is my mom is mentally unwell but she does a lot of this to herself, And she acts like she has no idea so I have no idea if she's playing a martyr or if she's actually unwell. My boyfriend says that I have to just let her be her, she acts so sad and pathetic around me, it guilt trips me so badly. And it sucks because my mom is so friendly to everyone so people love her. She even tells me things like " Your number one you can do anything! You're such an amazing person you're better than anyone else in the world!!" At first I used to love the attention but I realized later I think her entire interactions with me are starting to verge on love bombing. And when I'm physically around her she sees me as a source of pity and attention. But she's also peeing on herself now and her health is deteriorating so bad that she can barely climb stairs or walk far distances. Shes only 58. Yet she drinks multiple bottles of Mountain Dew daily. Her mother was severely depressed, wasted away on the couch for years, and died from an anurism at 62.
When do you step in? This is going to sound incredibly harsh but... do your parents have to earn that help? My mom has been mentally ill my entire life so I have no idea what she's supposed to act like. I've never had a normal parent, I don't know where to start I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I already told myself that I would never take care of my father but I have no idea what to do with my mother. She's convinced all my family members to pity her but they would never lend her money. She's just acts so pathetic that people feel sorry for her and I don't really know what to do because she's way stronger and better than that. Every time I tried to talk to her about her retirement she just brings up my dad and how he ruined her life, It's almost like she just doesn't want to move forward and only wants to lean on me. She hypnotized by the television too, Even as a child I noticed that my mom would miss appointments and completely destroy vacations ( There rare ones that we were able to have) by getting stuck just watching tv.
Please help me figure out what I am supposed to do with her. I have to remind her to change her diaper so she doesn't smell like piss when I visit. When I visit her it feels like I'm dealing with a toddler... Do you think her brain is deteriorating? How the hell is she still able to do her job?? This doesn't add up and I feel gas lit I don't know how to feel I don't know what to do....