Nj board of nursing license verification

Hi,
me and my gf met po online. I’m in North America while nasa Philippines siya. LDR is hard but somehow nung first few months namen it worked out really well kaso now that im doing my ojt minsan nalang kami mag usap kasi araw araw akong may trabaho kasi bukod sa ojt may part time job din ako.
In the morning i'd be doing my ojt tapos sa hapon hanggang gabi may work ako. My work is very busy to the point na wala na kaming break so minsan di ko na siya naaupdate ganon which I think for her okay lang naman kasi she knows naman na nasa work lang ako. Nag kakausap lang kami pagkauwi ko which is gabi so umaga sa pinas ang kakagising lang niya so basically no energy pa to talk so we call lang to feel each others presence ganon. On the weekends naman either may work ako o kailangan kong gumawa ng school works kasi even tho nag oojt na ko meron paring school works na need gawin. On the days that I'm free to bond w her wala na rin kaming mapag usapan? bcs idk? kasi matagal na kami? and what happens to us in daily basis are usually paulit ulit lang? usually pinaka nagagawa lang namin is mood ng movie together o madalas away kasi I wanted to atleast maximize the time we have kasi after non busy nanaman ako kaso due to lack of topic and energy ig nauuwi lang sa wala.
Honestly wala naman akong naririnig na reklamo sa kanya and she's been a very good partner. Mature. sobrang understanding and supportive kaya nga im grateful to be with her kaso I feel bad kasi di ko maibigay pabalik yon kasi sobrang busy ko. Nakaka stress and sobrang nakakapressure since graduating ako. I know naman na naiintindihan niya lahat pero minsan iniisp ko parang mas better nalang if I let her go kasi I know this will sound stupid but sometimes dahil pagod na ko sa araw ko then by the end of the day iisipin ko pa na need ko siyang kausapin, tawagan. Like I wanted to have time for myself rather than talking to her.
I know na yung partner mo dapat pahinga mo diba? but idk why I feel that way, parang mas gusto ko mapag isa makatulog na agad, maka gawa ng mga bagay na need ko gawin without having to update? kagaya ng pag gising ko sa umaga late na ko lagi nagigising kasi madalas tintry ko mag stay up para makapag usap manlang kami? then sa umaga mag mamadali ako kasi baka malate ako sa ojt then di ako makaka update sa kanya ganon hanggang sa mag tutuloy tuloy na araw ko. di siya nag rereklamo pero alam ko for her ang unfair non. O kaya naman sa gabi di na ko nakakapag update kasi pag uwi ko ng bahay, pag ka higa ko bagsak agad ako lagi.
It's so hard to keep going like that kasi hindi lang ngayon to? it will last tew more months and I know na it will be harsher. After graduation which is next month, l'd have to start my internship right away, that internship is not just for gaining hours but also l have to finish up a 500 page booklet full of activities and questions about my own profession which will definitely need time and effort to finish, that internship will last for 4-6 months depending on my own progress. Aside from that I also have to review for my board exam which is in 4 months AND I still have to work bcs my board exam and my licensing fees is almost 4 grand ($)
So iniisip ko san pa ko hahanap ng time para sa relationship namin? I want to be with her but I dont think I'd be able to handle everything. It will only be harder for both of us.
I really need advice if I should break up with her or not?
Thank you.

My apologies in advance – this is going to be long but hopefully not too convoluted/confusing. I posted this in the legal advice sub but haven't gotten any advice, so am posting here in hopes of getting advice. Please let me know if there's somewhere else I should ask my questions.
My questions are about the possible ethical/legal conflicts going on with a corporate level certified financial planner (CFP)/investment advisor representative. This person is a founding principal of and works in an LLC located in Chicago and is registered/licensed (per their SEC IAPD report) in Illinois and Florida. Information available online indicates that this person also carries the title of Chief Compliance Officer for the company. I will refer to this person as Pat. Pat’s online credentials are listed as CPA, CFP, PFS and registered investment advisor.
Pat’s client that I am concerned about is more than 70 years old and the owner of a nationally-known company with significant assets/value. The client maintains (for tax reporting purposes) a residence and vehicles in Missouri, however, actually spends the majority of their time in California, where they also have a residence, vehicles and other properties; client also owns properties and vehicles in other states. The client is not married but has adult children and siblings; the relationships with these family members is distant but not estranged. Client will be referred to as Shannon.
In addition to having the company, Shannon established a 501(c)3 foundation that accepts donations and provides scholarships. Pat is named on the board of this foundation as the treasurer, which seems inappropriate to me but I am unsure if this is legally or ethically an issue.
In recent years, Pat has become more actively involved in the employee/personnel aspects of Shannon’s company, most recently personally taking on the role of firing employees or reducing their hours to create non-livable employment situations; employees who previously communicated directly with Shannon are now being directed to communicate through Pat with their questions/concerns. Pat has, on many occasions, answered calls going to Shannon’s personal phone.
Pat has also become more involved in Shannon’s personal life and appears to be influencing Shannon to be more isolated from family members, as well as trying to convince Shannon to sell properties (Pat refers to these properties as “money pits” in an effort to influence Shannon to sell them). I have become aware that an updated legal document (unsure if it was a will or trust or something else) was prepared for Shannon that has the potential to pass any estate/inheritance to Pat when Shannon dies if the family remains distant or becomes further estranged. I don’t have a copy of this document nor do I know the name of the lawyer that prepared it, but this set off huge alarm bells for me.
All of this together seems incredibly sketchy to me but I am not sure where to start with regard to reporting it. Part of me is concerned about the isolating of Shannon as possibly crossing into elder abuse but I don’t believe that Shannon’s mental state is sufficiently diminished enough to support that they don’t understand what is going on; I believe that Pat is a master manipulator, especially since they have had this ongoing advisoclient relationship for many years.
I’m looking for any advice regarding how to bring this situation to the attention of whomever would investigate it – or any advice at all, really. Thank you.

Race information

• What? 3 Days at the Fair 50K
• When? May 18, 2024 ‡
• How far? 31.1mi
• Where? Augusta, NJ
• Website: https://sites.google.com/site/njtrailseries/fair
• Strava activity: https://www.strava.com/activities/11441314526
• Finish time: 4:40:46

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	4:30:00	No
B	< 5 hours	Yes

Splits

Mile	Time
1	0:39 *
2	7:33
3	7:31
4	8:01
5	7:45
6	7:56
7	8:08
8	8:00
9	8:00
10	8:27
11	8:04
12	8:11
13	8:08
14	8:10
15	8:06
16	8:10
17	8:43
18	8:09
19	8:40
20	8:21
21	8:38
22	8:39
23	9:06
24	9:05
25	9:56
26	9:45
27	9:40
28	10:16
29	11:07
30	10:20
31	11:46
32	11:00
33	6:30 **

• "Lap 1" was from the 50K start to the timing mat. ** "Lap 33" was the remainder from my GPS watch auto-split to the end of the lap/race. ‡ "3 Days at the Fair" went from 13 May to 19 May 2024 (yep!). I was there 18 May.

Training

This was a spring full of sharp turns and hard knocks. The original training went towards the Cheap Marathon in Derry, NH. (That race was reported upon by flocculus here.) Training then consisted of maintaining 30-40 weekly miles, with a weekly long run adding two miles from the prior week, with some fluctuation. My hometown is quite hilly, so I foregone specific hill training as all of my runs were not near flat. My final long run was 21.5 miles March 6 before tapering down my weekly long runs.
A freak snowstorm delayed the Cheap Marathon from 4/6 to 4/20, however on 4/9 I fell in my gym shower. Either a rib contusion or hairline fracture paused any running or training for nearly two weeks. Scrambling for some sort of race to scratch the itch and not toss away months of prior training, I found 3 Days at the Fair online – a six day affair featuring ultramarathon categories from 50K to 144H races. They offered a marathon category, with an alluring 50K at similar start times. Naturally, I signed up for shy of 5 more miles than a marathon. One of my running mates gave me the best advice that "ultra running is more of an eating contest than anything else." Considering that during prior marathons I had salt tabs and 3 or 4 GU packets, I thought more about this statement. Hoping my ribs and legs would stand up, I went for the race.
Note: If registering for this race, you can choose the specific date and time you wish to start it. Just stick to that time. I would end up toeing the line with three other 50K runners who opted for the Saturday 9AM start. One could have theoretically started their run any day between Monday and Saturday, at 9AM or 6PM.

Pre-race

The Sussex County NJ fairgrounds were easy enough for me to get to. Those who were not running longer ultra races had plenty of parking mere steps from the registration/food/starting line. (Those running longer races have opportunities to park campers, tents, and so forth.) Weather was gray and cool, at 58˚F/14˚C -ish. I ended up playing with how I'd pack for the run, before noticing racks set up after the start line into which you could place your water bottle so as to not hold it the entire time.

Race

For check-in, I picked up my swag (a plush bathrobe) and timing ankle chip. No bibs here! At 8:50, marathoners and 50K'ers were brought to the respective start lines, 0.1 and 0.2 miles after the timing mat. At 9AM, we would run against the sea of all other runners back to the starting mat, turn around, and continue in the anti-clockwise 1 mile loop course. This is why marathons are 27 laps and 50K is 32 laps – that quarter lap registered as "lap 1 completed," so 31.1 miles registers as 32 at the end. I'm getting ahead of myself!
I found the course compelling enough to follow. After the timing mat, there is a short uphill that weaves past the toilet and shower area, and toward a hairpin. While the 'pin itself was set wide, most of the time I would walk it because of traffic or weakening knees. This continued straight past a Camper's Row of sorts with mild downhill. The second half runs a long arch around the grounds, with a gradual gentle uphill. The course is paved except for a 200m segment of packed gravel – if it had rained, this part could've been muddy. The course completed after a shot down a causeway, and left turning back to the mat. It's this area where registration, fuel/food/catering, and timing is displayed. Overall, no real potholes to be concerned about, just 31 total laps of this!
Hydration and food – tons of everything including Impossible Burgers, PB&J, cola, and sports vitamins – was supplied after the timing mat. I kept track of which lap I was on with a big-screen projection. My name, lap number, prior lap time, and total time appeared. Every 30 minutes or so I decided to take in calories. This included GU Rocktane, GU Vanilla (sooooo good), two stroopwaffels, two ice pops, and a few salt tabs. It was roughly 400 or so more calories than I would have consumed during a race. Hydration was also a factor, that the course was completely uncovered made me feel hotter and "drier" than normal. I might have taken on about 50 fl oz / 1.5 liters of water. My stomach tolerated this!
The main causeway/timing mat area is where I stopped for water and stowed my foods so I didn't have to carry it around. Early on, I didn't understand where the timing screen was, so took minor detours in the registration area. These factors are why my paces seem inconsistent by 30-odd seconds per mile at points.
The people here are amazing! Other runners were highly supportive, chatty, upbeat. One person was dressed up like a chicken (the race logo featured one), and another person blasted some pretty appropriate and popular tunes. It would be a game for me to guess the artist or song on every lap – we had a great banter going! Another group had a dry-erase board and changed it every few minutes or so with a new dad joke. Naturally, I had to stop to retort with another. For example, they wrote, "3.14% of sailors are pi-rates!" I replied, "if it's $4.50 in Jamaica for a beef patty, $3.50 in DR, and $2 in Trinidad, are those the pie rates of the Caribbean?" Sorry, not sorry.
The lack of proper training began to present itself around mile 22. Pacing was targeted at 8:00-8:15 per mile, with goal half-marathon splits at 1h45m or so. After mile 26, I was 3h40m44s, ten minutes off goal pace. Around that point I slowed, taking more walk breaks but promising myself to run at least half every lap. Landmarks were mentally set to designate where walking and running would occur. When I crossed the line I was done.

Post-race

From a mental standpoint, the concept of so many laps did not bother me. My daily runs more often than not are laps in my parking lot, and I've completed a few half marathons on traditional 400m tracks a few times prior – especially during the Global Pandemilovato of '20. Physically, my legs did not feel any worse than they would have after 26.2 miles. My stomach was actually doing quite alright – nausea and headache would set in within a few minutes of finishing other marathons, but not today. My buddy's advice is making me rethink my marathon strategy.
As the event is ultra-marathon focused, finishers of marathon and 50K received a coin. The longer the distance, the larger the coin, with special awards for those who have invested 100+ miles with the organization. (A paver brick [!] stamped with the runner's name is awarded after 1,500 miles with the organization.) Either way, I circled back to the registration area to press my luck at burger availability. Unfortunately they were out, yet making more. While at the beginning of the race the smell of bacon and pancakes wafted onto the line, the sweet smell of success – naturally, manifest as deliciously greasy burgers – greeted us at the end.
Post-race nutriton in my car included Gatorlyte electrolytes, SiS Rego Rapid recovery, and 1.5 liters of water. I opted against the on-site showers and made the long ride home for one which was far more satisfying.
EDIT: Added info about registration. EDIT 2: Grammar.

Hey so I’m posting on behalf of my wife she’s a tele nurse and I’m a 4th year med student who finishes school in October.
So we were thinking from October to March for me and her to pack up our bags and she starts travel nursing for the first time. We’re currently in NJ and are thinking to just take job positions anywhere in the country (look for highest paying positions) and use this as opportunity to make a lot of money and see the country. We currently have no kids so wouldn’t be tough to do.
Couple questions we have. 1) what are some resources you think we should look into from now until October to research about traveling etc
2) i know post pandemic the rates aren’t as high but what should we expect she could make weekly on average if where searching for high paying jobs.
3) is this a good idea lol. Our thought process was we’re young and free right now and before so might as well for a couple of months grind out make money and see the country.
4) I’m assuming she would be 1099 so how should we go about medical insurance etc. and do you save good amount on taxes since everything essentially would be a write off ?
Incase i haven’t asked any other important questions please feel free to give any other input you have such as experiences, other resources etc.
Thank you so much !!
Btw again she’s in a Postcath/post transplant telemetry floor in one of the busiest most intensive hospitals in NJ. She has 1 year of experience but again her day to day tasks are insane. Every senior nurse that works with her currently that has been in multiple other hospitals tells her after you leave here any other hospital you work it will be a walk in the park.

Hello everyone, I'm looking to gather experiences people have made working in elderly care in different facilities.
I've recently started participating in an education program to become a qualified nurse after having switched to working in this field at a retirement a year ago without prior experience and I'm entertaining the thought to do a special program after to specialize in palliative care.
I love the patients, it's really great to help in various ways and I get along so much better with the old than the young. Moreover, for me it is valuable to integrate death and disease into normality and to better appreciate the glimpses of light in between.
The thing is, all the licensed nurses or other coworkers are pretty much burnt out. (They don't care or at least don't react when someone is spitting food back out in a stream, has a pulse rate of 160bpm and blood pressure of 90/60, when someone is severely drooping to one side and has pupils of different sizes or is lying on their side with their eyes open and not responding to verbal or visual stimuli. Also, it's demanded of me to inject insulin and distribute medication that I don't know the specifics of and there is so much stress between staff, which gets "resolved" by yelling. All of this really leaves a bad taste in my mouth.)
I'm wondering whether working at a hospice would offer a little more humanity or if it's the same, patients being treated like slabs of meat, coworkers having the emotional maturity of petulant toddlers and about zero expressed competence.

I passed the FNP exam with ANCC!!! I’m honestly still riding my emotions. 🥹💙😭 I wanted to share what I used as my study materials. They were either helpful or not helpful. Please do understand that this is just based on my views of the study materials. Everyone has their own different experiences and opinions. I studied for 2 months before taking my exam.
Note: I have 7 yrs of experience as a RN primarily in cardiac ICU and oncology.
Study Materials 1) UWorld Q-bank (Not helpful) 2) Leik Book (Helpful & recommend) 3) Sarah Michelle 1 Day Crash Course (Not helpful) 4) ANCC/ANA Practice Exam (Helpful & recommend)
*UWorld Q-bank: I used UWorld back when I prepped for the NCLEX so I was stoked when I found out they recently launched a FNP Q-bank. UWorld is good for those who don’t want to read through a textbook. The questions are accompanied by very thorough rationales. However, I felt like the rationales did not focus too much on treatment plans or pharmacology. It was great at explaining pathophysiology. But when it came to treatment, there would be phrases like “This disease will need medical treatment or this infection will need antibiotics.” It wouldn’t go into depth as to what medications would be recommended or prescribed. With UWorld, the questions were also very lengthy and did not correlate much with the format of the ANCC exam. There is a category for professional practice/ethics, but it had maybe less than 40 questions.
*Leik Book: An upperclassman recommended Leik to me as a study tool. I purchased the e-book version which did not come with the Q-bank. Leik was very thorough and helpful. I liked that the rationales included medications that would needed to be prescribed or recommended. The book also had tips and pointers along the way such as “this may be a possible ANCC or AANP question/topic.” Leik also explains the difference between ANCC and AANP questions which I found was super handy as testing strategies. At the end of each chapter were knowledge review questions which were either 10-40 questions long. There are also 2 practice exams at the end of book.
*Sarah Michelle 1 Day Crash Course: I know a lot of students swear by Sarah Michelle courses. I enrolled for this course 1 week before my exam date. This is a rapid course that covers all the body systems with 2 instructors. The course provided a study guide for the students to follow along. I don’t know if it’s the ICU nurse in me, but I felt the outline and organization of the session was very hard to follow. One minute we would be reviewing a question about GI and the next question would be about cardiac or endocrine and then back to GI. Alot of students mentioned in my session they would have preferred if it was structured to be 1 system with all the questions instead of jumping around too. But information wise, this review session does not go into full details. If you want to know about the explanations for diagnosis, interventions, and treatment/management, this review is not for you. This was a rapid fire question review session. A lot of the times, the instructors referred to alot of mnemonics which I was not familiar with. I’m assuming they were covered in the regular SM courses.
*ANCC/ANA Practice Exams: My advise… don’t freak out about the topics that were on the practice exams lol. I bought the practice exam to familiarize myself with the formatting of the questions. You wont need to know things like reportable diseases (which scared me because I did not study that at all). But the ANCC exam did similarly follow the practice exam format. I definitely felt less stressed as I was taking the FNP exam. The questions are more theory based than clinical base. But having studied mostly clinical scenarios, you can pretty much narrow your options down to 2 answers.
I hope this post helps everyone who will be taking their boards! Remember to breathe!

Hi Sysadmin peoples -
I'm a coder for a nonprofit book library archive. I use Linux as my daily driver and am a tinkerer. But I would not call myself a server expert., I work exclusively in the terminal. The board of directors for the company I work for wants me to install a control panel so that when I am not around, someone can restart services and check the logs, etc. We have 1 domain and have GitHub Actions for staging / testing / production. We use a software called Roots.io Radicle + Trellis, which is a development ecosystem for WordPress + Laravel.
I use these -

• Nginx
• MariaDB (MySQL drop-in replacement)
• PHP 8.2 (+ extensions)
• Composer
• WP-CLI
• sSMTP
• Memcached
• Fail2ban
• ferm (firewall)
• Mailpit

1. QUESTION: What is the most feature rich server control panel for Ubuntu 22+ that does not directly modify files on install. I am looking at several and don't mind paying for a license. I do not want something like Plesk / Cpanel as these are bloated and I [think] they modify stuff on install.
   • Webmin
   • Ajenti 2
   • Cockpit
   • Other suggestions?

Thank you!!!!!!!!!

1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

I'm an international student who has been looking for part time work for sometime now but I'm having quiet a bit of hard time finding it, what's more frustrating is the other student seems to all been able to find one but for some reason I just couldn't.
I wasn't really picky and applied bunch of places both online and in-person, I applied to every Dollaramas in Cornwall, and tried Mcdonald and Tim Hortons multiple times, even tried applied night shift to see if I had better chance. I also tried Food Basic, No Frills, Subway and many other places with no luck. I applied to multiple positions in Walmart and most of them got rejected or no response, I even contacted the hiring manager which she told me right now they would rather looking for someone who can work full time after September. I went to Cornwall Square and check the job board there but I can only see Tim Horton's hiring flyer, the other are for nursing, police and child caretaker which I'm not qualify for. Went to job zone on Pitt Street too but they are not allow to help me which is understandable, also been to local job fair twice but got nothing either.
Anyone have any suggestion?

Reddit posts from more than a year ago (or years ago) seem to dissuade seeking mental health support during and after M1-M4/residency because of the risk of having to disclose to Medical Licensing Boards and Disability Insurance as a doc.
Is this still the general advice post-2024? Since the Dr. Lorna Breen Health Care Provider Protection Act, most licensing boards have/are changing their language to focus on CURRENT IMPARIMENTS and thus are less intrusive than in the past. Does this change anything in the real world?
TBH I just wanna go to therapy to learn to be a better human and partner (for my future partner)... but if this jeopardizes my career ... not so much

(note: this is an extremely self-absorbed and long-winded post centered on comparing my upbringing to my husband's upbringing and it contains mentions of eating disorders and lots of whining. This is word vomit, is not of value, and I will probably delete this soon).
Sometimes it's the little things that make me realize how... slightly different my upbringing was... in comparison to people who grew up with healthy siblings. For me, it was nostalgic school pizza.
I ate school lunch every day. Packing? Lol, no. My husband? He told me tonight that he never, like as in never ever, ate school lunch. His mom packed for him every single day - he got special sandwiches and casseroles and even sushi once or twice. Therefore, he has no nostalgia for school pizza, whereas I do, and I am about to spend $50 on some brand of pizza that apparently tastes just like it.
My husband was raised differently than me. He was raised by upper middle class parents, including his mom being SAHM for his entire life, and he and his sibling were both healthy their entire lives. My parents both worked in law enforcement/social work adjacent jobs, both working nights sometimes, and they had city and nonprofit pay, aka we were probably lower middle class. I also had an extremely ill sibling for the duration of middle school and the first year of high school.
As a child, my husband was never left alone. He didn't stay home alone until he was 14. He never had to stay alone for days and weeks like I did. We lived in a rural area too, so I was far from town and couldn't go anywhere. While my sibling was hospitalized two hours away or at various appointments, they'd come home late at night most days. There were weeks in the summer where they were home maybe 6 hours a week and I was alone with neighbors and my aunt checking in every other day. Sometimes they sent me to day camp in the summer and I'd be the last one picked up. I always went to day camp because I suspect overnight camp cost too much - my sibling's illness was expensive. If I wasn't at day camp, I was alone all the time during summer and after school. This lasted four years.
Honestly, it wasn't that bad at the time. I felt like it was my house and I walked the dogs and stayed up late and ate frozen foods and went swimming in our above ground pool. I had two close friends in the neighborhood and I'd spend time with them when I could. I got a job when I was 15 and my friend's mom picked me up and drove me back and forth from work until I got my license. I was online A LOT and was in chat rooms and meeting randos on message boards as young as 12. I even got into web design and taught myself a few basic programming languages. Honestly, I was kind of raised by the Internet
I also ate school lunch every day. I know how to poke a milk bag perfectly. I am constantly nostalgic for the nuggets, pizza, and Bosco sticks of my middle and high school cafeterias. My parents would give me money at the beginning of the week and I'd map my school lunch plan out. Lunch was the highlight of my day for awhile. I ate a lot of Bosco sticks. My school also had a vending machine, so I drank lots of Dr. Pepper too. I honestly got pretty fat. Until I wasn't, because somehow (the Internet), I calculated the calories of everything at my school cafeteria, and then only nutrigrain bars and an apple were safe. I ate Bosco sticks at least weekly though - I craved them even when I was starving myself. I just didn't usually keep them down and I'll leave it at that.
School pizza though. School pizza isn't tainted like Bosco sticks. It was different pizza every week in high school so I never knew the calories. Thus I didn't eat it after first semester of high school. Even after I was "recovering" and my sibling got better, meaning suddenly I wasn't being raised by the Internet anymore, I avoided school pizza. The memories I have are from 2000 and pizza day at my elementary school stands as a consistently pleasant memory. I make pizzas now. Good pizzas. I love pizza. I've made it for my husband, parents, and sibling.
Never school pizza though.
I want to try $50 nostalgic pizza.
My husband says it's probably gross and not worth $50.
He never had to do meal planning when he was 12 and alone for weeks at a time though.

So my university, University of the Cumberlands, did not have a Reddit…
So I made one!
Turns out, getting people to join your subreddit is pretty hard. Especially when it’s about a university in the south xD
BUT! I think there is many valid reasons why you should consider joining my new subreddit ucumberlands
(I just want to preface, I am not affiliated with Cumberlands outside of being a newly admitted student. This is not “marketing”. I would just like people to join my new school subreddit hehe)

1. IF you’re a prospective graduate student, ucumberlands can give you news, updates, and info about the University of the Cumberlands various grad programs like Counseling, Nursing, Business, Criminal Justice, and more!
   
2. IF you are looking for online masters programs (that are accredited and worth something more than just a ‘degree mill’!!), University of the Cumberlands is a “brick and mortar” school that offers online masters, meaning that NOWHERE on your degree will it say “online”. In fact, employers will see your degree as the same value as any other in-person degree! Meaning more job opportunities, licensing, and value!
   
3. To add to point #2, University of the Cumberlands is a nationally ranked university and the #1 university in Kentucky! Yes, even more than University of Kentucky! A degree from University of the Cumberlands is not only respected, but distinguished!
   
4. The University of the Cumberlands is one of the oldest universities in the United States, dating back to its origin of 1888!
   
5. If you like sports, University of the Cumberlands has some amazing collegiate sports teams! The university has boasted over 5 OLYMPIC wrestlers!! (Whaaat?!) and their baseball team is going to the NAIA College World Series this year after an impressive 51-6 record!
   
6. University of the Cumberlands is also extremely affordable as both an undergrad and graduate school! So, if you’re in high school or community college and looking for a top, nationally ranked program, consider Cumberlands!
   
7. The final reason I’d like to invite you to join ucumberlands is because it would mean a lot to me 🥺 yes, I am pulling that card. We have 6 members. Every time I see it go up, my heart flutters. I am being serious, my life is that sad (okay maybe not sad, but it just brings me join seeing the subreddit I created for my new university grow little by little)
   

Thanks for taking the time to read the reasons why I think you should join ucumberlands. We also have user flairs, so that’s cool :)

MIA Town Hall - Supporting Extreme States, Dissociation & Experiences Labeled as Psychosis
Mad in America presents Part II of a special panel discussion on understanding and supporting those experiencing extreme states, dissociation, and experiences labeled as psychosis. We’ll take a deeper dive into how engaging and validating these states can serve as a supportive tool for healing. We’ll provide concrete examples of possible approaches and demonstrate that recovery, even in people labeled as “incurable,” is possible in various forms. Our expert panel includes survivors, family members, and therapists. Extensive resources will be shared, and the discussion will conclude with an open audience Q&A.
About the Guest Speakers
Cindy Marty Hadge is a person who experienced physical, emotional, sexual, and medical trauma as a child. She experienced voices, vision, and thoughts of ending her life growing up as well. As a young adult she turned to alcohol and street drugs in an effort to make life livable. Over time she entered the mental health system, where the street drugs were replaced with prescribed drugs and the result was frequently the same – walking or stumbling through life in a mind-numbing state while continuing to experience voices, visions, and thoughts of ending her life.
Knowing that peer support in the form of 12 Step programs had been helpful while struggling with substance use, she sought out peer support for her emotional distress and experience of extreme states. Cindy discovered that she lived within walking distance of one of the Wildflower Alliance spaces, where one of the very few Hearing Voices Network groups in the US was held. Within this community she found healing and hope. By attending HVN groups she discovered that there were things she could do beyond taking medication to navigate her experience.
Cindy has found the meaning, purpose, and connection that she longed for and has made a way of making sense of the senseless. She is transforming her tragedies into treasures by being healed when creating space for others to heal. Cindy has been recognized by Inter-Voice, the international organization of HVN, for her work as an educator. Cindy is gender non-conforming and has presented both as Cindy and Marty. Cindy is a keynote speaker and a national trainer.
Olga Runciman is the only psychologist in private practice in Denmark to specialize in extreme states (psychosis). She is an international trainer and speaker, writer, campaigner, and artist. She is a co-founder of the Danish Hearing Voices Network and the International Institute for Psychiatric Drug Withdrawal. She is a board member for a variety of organizations including Intervoice, Mad in America, The Danish Psychosocial Rehabilitation organization, and others. She has taken the three-year Finnish Open Dialogue education in London and works today as a dialogical family therapist and trainer.
For many years prior to her current career, Olga worked as a nurse in neurology and psychiatry. She also knows psychiatry from the inside, having been a patient herself. She was told she was an incurable case. Today she is in the unique position of creating a bridge between patient and professional.
Sam Ruck earned his B.A. in a Christian ministry-related field but set that dream aside when his wife began to display symptoms related to her childhood trauma early in their 35-year marriage. Together, for the past 16 years, they have learned to navigate extreme states and extreme dissociative issues, while embracing her seven “alter” identities in their relationship and family. Sam learned to become the companion his wife needed on their mutual healing journey, using strategies drawn from attachment theories and other pragmatic approaches.
Today, Sam and his wife struggle together, like many others, amidst the upheaval of culture wars and post his cancer diagnosis in 2023. They are still dealing with the remnants of her trauma and dissociation. Though his wife chooses to remain anonymous, she supports Sam sharing their learnings with significant others, family members, and anyone who is interested in a better way to engage someone experiencing mental distress. Please note that for privacy, Sam Ruck is using a pen name.
Sam blogged about their journey for a number of years later, summarizing the experience in a short book offered for free here. Excerpts have been published on MIA.

So my university, University of the Cumberlands, did not have a Reddit…
So I made one!
Turns out, getting people to join your subreddit is pretty hard. Especially when it’s about a university in the south xD
BUT! I think there is many valid reasons why you should consider joining my new subreddit ucumberlands
(I just want to preface, I am not affiliated with Cumberlands outside of being a newly admitted student. This is not “marketing”. I would just like people to join my new school subreddit hehe)

1. IF you’re a prospective graduate student, ucumberlands can give you news, updates, and info about the University of the Cumberlands various grad programs like Counseling, Nursing, Business, Criminal Justice, and more!
   
2. IF you are looking for online masters programs (that are accredited and worth something more than just a ‘degree mill’!!), University of the Cumberlands is a “brick and mortar” school that offers online masters, meaning that NOWHERE on your degree will it say “online”. In fact, employers will see your degree as the same value as any other in-person degree! Meaning more job opportunities, licensing, and value!
   
3. To add to point #2, University of the Cumberlands is a nationally ranked university and the #1 university in Kentucky! Yes, even more than University of Kentucky! A degree from University of the Cumberlands is not only respected, but distinguished!
   
4. The University of the Cumberlands is one of the oldest universities in the United States, dating back to its origin of 1888!
   
5. If you like sports, University of the Cumberlands has some amazing collegiate sports teams! The university has boasted over 5 OLYMPIC wrestlers!! (Whaaat?!) and their baseball team is going to the NAIA College World Series this year after an impressive 51-6 record!
   
6. University of the Cumberlands is also extremely affordable as both an undergrad and graduate school! So, if you’re in high school or community college and looking for a top, nationally ranked program, consider Cumberlands!
   
7. The final reason I’d like to invite you to join ucumberlands is because it would mean a lot to me 🥺 yes, I am pulling that card. We have 6 members. Every time I see it go up, my heart flutters. I am being serious, my life is that sad (okay maybe not sad, but it just brings me join seeing the subreddit I created for my new university grow little by little)
   

Thanks for taking the time to read the reasons why I think you should join ucumberlands. We also have user flairs, so that’s cool :)

Sorry about format, as I'm on mobile. I'd get some snacks and a drink, cause this is gonna be a decent sized one. This is pretty much about my entire life. Also, I have mental health and sometimes add too many details to things. I kinda over share, so apologise if that happens. Me(F) my mom(F) sister(F)
My entire life, I have felt less than when it comes to my mom. It's pretty obvious my sister is the favorite child. Ever since she was born, I was put on a back burner. Then my brother was born, and it got even worse. (My brother is an amazing man, so I don't fault him for anything at all. He's pretty much my unofficial child. I will die for him.) When I was 3, my bio dad died. I did get checks every month for survivors checks, but when I turned 18, I never saw any of it. I understand that she needed it for me while I was a minor, but once I turned 18, it was supposed to actually go to me. I was still in my last year of high school, so it didn't stop til I graduated. If I would have gotten those checks, I would be way farther in life. My mom got with my siblings dad when I was around 4 or 5. That's where the abuse came in. She got pregnant with my sister, and pretty much made me the clown. My sister's dad was a Dr*g addict, and would go on binges, leaving me home alone to watch my siblings, while Mom was at work. I was 6 at this point. Granted, she did call the police and he got charged with 3 counts of child endangerment. (My brother was born at this point). Then, she stayed with him, even though he left us like that. When I was 9 was when I found out about my dad. She wasn't even going to tell me about him, but she had to, cause my grandma filed for grandparents rights. Mom didn't even tell me. Siblings dad is the one to sit me down. That's when my mental health started to really show. I was 9 and finding out the man that I called dad, wasn't actually my dad, and my real dad is never meet cause he's dead. My soul broke that day. Fast forward a few months and I get a puppy for my birthday. It pooped in the house, and G(siblings dad) was so irate, he left the puppy outside in the middle of the night, during the winter... He killed my dog. It was maybe 15° F that night. I woke up the next morning to mom telling me the dog ate paint off the wall ... She did, but the bite marks were there from a week prior. I was 9, not stupid. I saw through her lies. Fast forward again. They end up separating. He had gotten upset, then kidnapped my siblings taking them to a completely different state. He finally came back, and was in jail for 6 months. After he got out .. she got back with him. The final straw happened a few years later. When I was probably 8-10 can't remember exactly how old, I was having issues with my math homework. I have major dyslexia with numbers(can't remember the actual name) and math was my worst subject because of that. I was frustrated cause I just couldn't understand the math homework, so I crumpled the paper. (I was a kid. I know I shouldn't have done it, but I did.) She got up, and started to hit me. She was smacking my arms, and had me pinned down to the couch. I turned my head and she hit my nose hard enough for it to gush blood. (Granted I could flick my nose and it'd bleed, but I digress). Then, I had "played" with a belt with her and G, and one of them(can't remember who) was hitting me with another one. I didn't understand at the time, but we was all smacking each other with belts, tryna hit the others the hardest. (My lord I just realized how bad that actually was.) I went to school the next day, and had a few welts on my arms. Went to the nurse for some ice, and got asked who did it. I explained what happened, and cps got called. I didn't know, but I got home and got screamed at by G. He was in my face, so close I could smell his breath and feel his spittle hitting my face. Then my mom said it wasn't them, but my sister who scratched me. (It wasn't a scratch. It was a welt clearly from a belt.) There's probably more, but my brain made me forget to protect my sanity. Fast forward, she is finally away from him. Then she gets with my now step dad. I was 12 at the time. He was an okay guy. He has 5 kids. Well, of course I was the built in babysitter. I am the oldest out of all 8 of us kids. I wasn't allowed to hang out with friends as much as I should have been growing up, cause I was always the one to be the second parent to them. That's when my mental health started to get severe. I started self harming at 13. It would get so bad. Nothing of significance really happened between then til I was 16. (That I can remember. Thanks brain for protecting me.) I get into highschool. Freshman year. I'm finally able to start hanging out with friends more often. I end up having sex(I was coerced, wanted to wait til I was on bc, but I finally gave in. Shouldn't have, but it's whatever. I'm over it now.) Wasn't on birth control and didn't wear a condom. Had a scare I may have been pregnant. Mom finds out, gets a test and takes me to my grandma's to take it. She berates me in front of my grandparent and my aunt and cousins. Thankfully it was negative. Fast forward to when I was 16. Got my first job. Finally I'm old enough to make my own money. Well, I can't even spend my checks the way I wanted to. Majority of them went to her. I gave her prob 85 percent of my checks. I wanted to save for a car. Couldn't. (Not that it mattered. Didn't get my license til I was 23... I'm 27 now.) Kept getting my temps, only to never practice. Yet, when my sister is 18, she takes her out to drive and helps her get her license. But, whatever. Finally I graduate, and all I get is a gift card(I'm thankful of course. I'm not stingy, I just have envy from all the things my sister got, that I didn't.) Sister got a full blown party. Every single person I have been romantically with, she would put in my head that they aren't good enough. So much so, I thought I would never be with someone who genuinely loved me. (I have that now, so shout out to my amazing fiance.) I'm still cutting on a daily basis at this point. Cut from the ages of 12 to 20. I'd still be, if I wasn't with my fiance. (I was didn't sewer slide myself and actually did it right this time, anyway. Tried 5 times. Thankfully I failed each time.) I have bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression and ADHD. Not once did she take me to get health. She always dismissed me when I would try and talk to her about it, so I just kept to myself. It took my fiance's mom to take me and get me the help I needed. I barely graduated cause I just didn't care in 9th and 10th grade. I felt like I wasn't going to live past high school anyway, so why should I care? 11th grade comes up and working had actually given me motivation to keep going. (Plus I started smoking the devil's lettuce, so I was feeling better mentally.) Turn 18 and I move out. Ended up losing my job I had then, and go down a spiral. I got addicted to alcohol and pills for a couple of weeks. Not enough for withdrawals, but it was still bad. Thankfully I woke up one day and realized what I was doing. (I'll give her this, I called and she immediately came to get me so I could get out of that situation.) Fast forward more, I move out again, but just down the street. I'm now 19 and start dating my now fiance. We have been together 8 years and I barely talk to her anymore. Esp this past year. I don't really message her first anymore. I've gone 6 or more months without talking to her. Shoot, without talking to anyone in my family. Fiance's parents get me the mental health I needed. Get diagnosed with depression, anxiety and bipolar disorder. I've told Mom I have bipolar since I was 16 and she just dismissed me, saying it's my hormones. (Jokes on her) About 4 years in, she starts telling me I need to find someone else to be with. He isn't good enough for me. (Yeah, like the rest weren't. No one is good enough for her.) It gets to the point I had to tell her and my sister both to stop, or I was gonna cut them out of my life completely. (Should have, looking back, but we learn.) They stop for a while. Sister is now showing her true colors. She's a narcissist and gaslighter, just like her father. She cannot own up to her mistakes, what so ever. She gets into an accident, not her fault. She gets into a fight she started, not her fault. Can't hold down a job, not yet fault. (I've had trouble holding down a job as well, but I'm getting better. I finally got diagnosed with ADHD and am in meds, so I'm not feeling impulsive as bad. Id switch jobs pretty frequently, due to the better sounding one. It's still affecting me to this day, but I'm seeing a change in my mind. Just gotta push through a bit more. Not blaming it on my ADHD, but the disease doesn't make it easier.) Mom has gotten sister a job with her at every single job she's had the past 4 years. Sister ruins it for mom, cause sister can't stand mom not paying attention to her, or doing everything for sister. Sister has bad anxiety, and uses it as an excuse to keep mom working. Sister wants all the pay of being a manager, without actually doing the manager duties. Sister always tells me I need to dress better. Says i "need to look more presentable and not like a slob". I wear skinny jeans and a Tshirt usually. Frequently, I'll wear sweats if I'm just going to moms and not going out. I like being comfy. Constantly criticizing me for every single thing I do. Finally mom says she realizes how bad she has treated me throughout my life. I forgave her a long time ago. Gets to the point mom says she wouldn't have anything to do with sister, if she wasn't her kid. Thought things were gonna change. Clearly not. Mom and sister both get another new job, the same job. Again. It's like nothing has changed since that conversation. Still barely talk to her, and everything. Last time I hung out with them, it was for only 3 hours. THREE HOURS. yet, I had anxiety and panic attacks from that small amount of time, for the next 3 days... I can't do this anymore, but I feel SO freaking guilty for even considering this. I love my mom and sister. I want them in my life, but I can't keep feeling like this. My mental health is always needing to be restarted after being around them. It's like I go back to that 12 year old me and want to self harm all over again. I'm now almost 10 years clean from it. There is no longer any scars, and I'm happier now. I just can't help but to feel I should just suck it up and "get over it". I know this is rediculously long, so if you've read this far, thank you. I just need some other people's perspective that isn't biased and I feel you guys are the best chance for that. I'm really struggling on what to do and feel so guilty for even typing this stuff out. My worst fear is disappointing her, yet I do every day. I also really hate confrontation. I'll do whatever it takes to avoid it, but I just can't anymore. I've always wondered how life would be if my dad was alive. I don't remember him, but I can still say I miss him. I miss the opportunities that I didn't get growing up.
Thank you guys. I'll take whatever you guys throw at me. I just want to see if my feelings are valid or not. This is literally causing me pain. I need help.

ACT 1. Sunday afternoon after visiting the local market two brothers wait for their train to arrive. If they were even a minute late, they knew their mother would surely scold them and scold the elder of the two far worse. The idea of another beating did not bother the elder brother; he had been through far worse just dealing with the brat and his attempted jailbreaks, though something did begin to make him painfully nauseous forcing him to feel pressured by the light breeze as if gravity had suddenly been increased tenfold. All his senses were heightening beyond anything he had thought possible.All around him he saw that the once energetic and hyperactive passengers had become little more than mannequins; their movements slowing to a standstill. They had all gone silent. The station was no longer filled with the cries of children or the gentle laughs of their parents. He had never heard such silence in such a crowded location. He did not feel panicked, nor did he feel a need to act for this silence was oddly comforting to him. However, the newly calm atmosphere would quickly be the source of a lifetime of suffering.His hand began to reach for his brother in an attempt to call his attention. Though in a moment of both unprecedented shock and exhaustion John shoved his younger brother onto the rails of an oncoming train. Local news would report the incident as nothing more than a tragic manic episode of a young sixteen-year-old. However, for John this single visceral instant in which all of his brother's bones were instantly crushed was stretched into hours. He was painfully aware of how every bone in his brother's body contorted in inhuman ways some nearly resembling perfect right angles, until eventually, they snapped and sent insurmountable pain throughout his nervous system. His blood curling screams were made mute by the screech of the train coming to a halt, though, by the time they stopped, his brother had torn his every vocal cord and had long ago lost consciousness. Still on the platform, the elder brother stood still, attempting to process what exactly he had done. He had no idea what force had compelled him to push his brother, but that instant would forever define what he saw as reality.That however was nineteen years ago, in present day he lived in isolation far from any person. He spent his isolated days wandering the land around his cabin completing house chores that distracted him from reminiscing about his days in the asylum or as he liked to call it “The Echo Room” where he was transferred after the incident. He headed inside after spending a portion of his morning counting all one-hundred-and-thirty-two trees that were showing signs of life after the harsh winter that nearly forced him to cut down two of them for firewood. Once inside he began preparing his morning coffee when he heard a loud creak come from the hall. He (after many incidents) learnt to avoid the boards that creaked, so in his mind immediately an intruder was breaking into his cabin searching for food or his stash of special edition coffee. Deciding to investigate he walked towards the noise when suddenly he heard two knocks at his front door. Confused and slightly worried, he proceeded to walk towards the door making sure not to step on any of the annoyingly loud floorboards.He approached and looked through the peephole and saw only what remained of the melting snow outside. Opening the door, he saw that only his steps led to the doormat. He glanced around and saw no indication of any life aside a few dark patches on the snow. He was about to close the door when he noticed a tiny red package wrapped in a radiant red bow placed clear from where the door would open. Cautiously picking it up, he noticed how it had almost no weight to it; as if empty. He walked inside and sat at his desk planning to journal later about the weird morning he had been having. He examined the exterior of the package and saw how not only was it near perfect condition but it was also slightly warm to the touch; as if recently held. He undid the bow and cautiously opened the package, half expecting an explosive of some sort. Though, all he found was a ragged ripped piece of paper. Unremarkable aside from the fact that it was inside such a carefully constructed package. On the other side he saw that it had some scarlet lettering inscribed into it reading.“Ouroboros”. At first believing it to be a prank by the kids who had heard rumors about him, and his incident, nearly caused him to dismiss it entirely deeming it little more than a slightly humorous event. He decided to put it aside for now as he had coffee left to drink that was quickly getting cold. He walked back towards the kitchen still distracted by the idea of no trace being left by whoever had left the gift. Was it even a gift? Maybe it was just some well-executed prank? In any manner he would later have a better look at it. He absentmindedly, reached for his cup and immediately pulled his hand back shocked by the temperature of the cup. It was frozen! Almost to a complete solid. He thought himself slightly distracted but not enough to freeze his morning coffee especially not his special edition coffee. First The Box and now this, it was all adding up to an annoying morning. Was it still morning? No, that’s not right. He had just spent the day counting trees. How could it still possibly be morning?The thought of Dr. Lumis being correct about his mental condition after so many years sent a chill down his spine especially since last time they talked, he did not exactly behave amicably. He was sure that both incidents had been isolated events that could never happen again. Sure, he had heard the echoes every once in a while, but he was never insane like the others; this he knew to be a fact. If he was insane, how could he have ever left? Disoriented and beginning to sweat, his legs suddenly gave out causing him to fall backward landing on the cold wooden floorboards. He looked around hurriedly expecting to see an intruder that had somehow found him. After seeing nothing but his pristine furniture, he steadied himself and began to control his breathing. He slowly got up causing the wood underneath to creak under the sudden release of weight. Deciding to further assure himself he went around the cabin checking in all four rooms. He found nothing aside from his own disturbances. Still feeling slightly nervous and disturbed he headed back towards the living room in search for The Box with the red bow determining that it had somehow triggered his current situation. The Box was still where he placed it; much to his relief. He sat down. He looked once again at the scarlet lettering.
Act 2. Back in the asylum he would often spend his days wondering how he could have ever been grouped alongside individuals who had purposefully and viciously committed heinous crimes against innocent victims. He was not insane like them. Whatever had caused his hand to shove his brother had long abandoned him. His routine now consisted of cleaning whatever mess the older residents made in the halls and transporting lab waste to the crematorium. He would clean from the southern stalls all the way to the northern cemetery and make his rounds gathering the waste from the rooms. It was a simple job but lonely, nonetheless. The halls were often only illuminated by tiny flickering red lights that indicated the position of the cameras through which Dr.Lumis would often monitor John during his nightly crusades. Though incredibly distasteful, John did not mind, he accepted that odd situations would be easier to explain if someone of credit had seen them. Yet despite this, he felt he was being watched by someone other than the doctor. He assumed that this feeling was due to the paranoia he had been diagnosed with a few months back. On a particular night, moments after dumping another bag of soft solids and dense liquids down the chute, he heard footsteps, just outside the room. Expecting to see the doctor he begrudgingly walked towards the door. Exiting and seeing no one he called out for the doctor but got no response aside from the echo of his own voice. He began to walk towards where he had heard the footsteps come from when he suddenly collapsed out of exhaustion. The same exhaustion that had plagued him during the moment of his brother’s death. He tried to reach for his panic button (a gift from Lumis) but it had disappeared from his chain. He tried to scream but not a single whisper was heard. He gazed into the dark corridor where he had thought Dr.Lumis had gone, but saw nothing but soft shadows. Though something was unnervingly wrong about them. They moved as if following an order, all synchronized, all heading towards him. That night in the asylum had left him scared to even return to the disposal area; he feared that The Shadows might eventually be able to reach him. The Shadows did not haunt him unaccompanied: they followed alongside The Echo tormenting his nights. While The Shadows could not reach him during daylight, he could never escape The Echo. It followed wherever he went and tracked everything he did. Dr.Lumis explained that he merely suffered from an extreme case paranoia but John saw the others; who yelled and who screamed true nonsense, he was perfectly aware of himself and the ones around him. Dr. Lumis secretly believed patient #132 experienced Hyper-sanity though this he would never verbally confess. It was term he decided would for now adequately describe his patient’s acute awareness of The Shadows and The Echo. John would for many years go without hearing The Echo after that night, only ever hearing what seemed like the final moans of a dying voice. Back in present day, he hoped he wasn’t suffering another hallucination as they tended to leave him in an embarrassing shocked state. He questioned what “Ouroboros” could possibly mean in relation to himself. He considered the possibility of it being an early warning of some threat to the sanctity of his home. He quickly dismissed it as he had not interacted with anyone long enough to possibly annoy them. Weird them out? Sure. Offend them? Maybe with his sense of fashion. Following his incredibly fine-tuned survival instincts he put on a light coat and went outside to walk among the trees. A mundane task, but one he truly enjoyed especially since he hoped it would distract him for a short while. Just before he closed the door behind him, he took one more look at The Box sitting on his desk and decided to take it with him in case he met the person who had left it. The sun had begun to set marking the end of the day. He watched the sun hide behind the mountain range letting the world bathe in darkness for another night. John did not dislike the night (he had worked nightshifts in The Echo Room for years) but he didn’t find the freezing cold to be ideal. He had not left his land for what was a few years now and the idea of even slightly stepping out of his comfort was making him incredibly anxious. Still, he walked forward towards wherever the path took him. The night only got darker and quieter, and he only got colder. He did not see the lightning bugs that usually warded away the dark near the edge of his hill. Without the soft hum of bugs or soft breeze that would brush against his beard he felt alone. Even the nights back in the asylum did not possess this level of quiet. He kept moving hoping that eventually he would find something that could break the uncomfortable silence. As he continued down the hill, he realized he could no longer distinguish the path from the dirt surrounding it. He considered heading back when he realized he had not kept track of where he had come from. Not only was he lost but alone with his thoughts and whatever had been watching him from the start. He walked a step forward and then another one back repeatedly. What he was attempting to achieve was beyond reason. Had he gone mad? No, he was perfectly sane. “Wait, I can hear them clearly now” he spoke, his voice dried from the cold.“This is not a hallucination” he spoke softly.“i-I AM NOT HALLUCINATING” he proclaimed. He heard The Echo once more though they were not of his voice but rather of Another. He had long been aware of “The Echo” but he could never fully determine whether it was a dream or an effect of the chemicals but this Other was undoubtedly real. “I don’t know where you are but please. Are you real?” he asked the night. He could now hear The Echo or rather feel the pressure of its words upon his reality. Had it been trying to hide the Other? He walked forward and pulled out The Box. “You gave me this right? What for? What purpose does it serve?” No one responded.Annoyed, he threw it as far as he could down the hill. “THERE! THIS CAN’T CONTINUE WITHOUT IT, RIGHT?” He shouted at the endless empty. That’s when out of the darkness emerged a faint light. Was it a lightning bug or maybe a sign of civilization?
Act 3. Cautiously, he approached the cold light and saw that the light was artificial. The tube inside flickered before another appeared a few feet ahead, and then another and then another and then what seemed like an uncountable amount more. He took a step forward and noticed that the ground underneath had turned to hard white tile. Accepting that this was not the weirdest occurrence that had affected him he proceeded to walk forward making sure to keep a mental note to journal about it later. The surrounding landscape transformed into white walls that every so often had a window that let him peek at the other side. At first, he could still see the snowy landscape, but it to slowly changed; first having scattered papers and then chairs, cabinets, and desks until they eventually resembled a typical office. Its purpose was not obvious to him, and neither was the hallway but if they were changing surely, it possessed a deeper metaphorical meaning that related to his life. He saw a door at the very end of the hall and decided to not postpone the ploy of whatever “The Echo” was planning. He stood before the door wondering about what it could possibly contain. John proceeded to open the door. Inside was a desk along with a single cabinet. Walking inside he noticed that the room was illuminated by some otherworldly source that had no words that could possibly describe it. He walked towards the desk and a file he had not seen previously, sat open. Inside was a description of his physical appearance. “Age: 35. Height: 5’8. Weight: 185 lbs. Hair: Black with obvious signs of stress. Eyes: Brown. Character Aptitude: High.” “Okay, I get it. I’m old, you didn’t have to expose my hair like that” he said slightly embarrassed quickly restyling his hair. He noticed that even though they had an almost perfect description of his hobbies, dreams and wishes they did not have a single picture as if they for some reason were only able to use words. “SOOO you know about that one time in the asylum (don’t ask) BUT NOT A SINGLE PICTURE? That’s lame.” he said mockingly. On the final page he found what looked like an incomplete file; most of the personal attributes had not yet been filled and only a note was made reading. “They don’t need a complete story just one they can understand.” Besides the fact that whatever role he played in this act had been a mere afterthought; he was confused as to how anyone could have ever gathered such sensitive and personal information about his isolated life. Was it The Echo? Had it told them his life? A phone started to ring somewhere in the room abruptly breaking the silence he had become used to. He quickly rotated towards the source of the ringing but did not find anything. There was only him and the four walls that despite the lighting did not change a shade of grey. He walked towards one of them that seemed to be where the noise came from resting his hand on it and gently put his ear to it thinking that the ringing was from another room entirely. The wall he had just laid a hand on had no longer a physical representation and causing John to fall through to the other side. Disoriented he slowly looked up and saw The Telephone illuminated by what seemed to be the same light that illuminated the previous room. This one however was far more powerful and concentrated solely on The Telephone. He approached it expecting a chasm to somehow appear underneath his feet. The Telephone did not stop ringing and only seemed to increase in intensity (though this could have simply been a hallucination). He lifted it to cut the blaring noise and slowly put it to his ear. “hello?” “…” “…” “The protagonist only dies if the story ends” the voice said quietly. “HUH? YOU DRAGGED ME HERE TO TELL ME THAT OMINOUSLY ANNOYING LOAD OF *********!” “…I’m so sorry” The call disconnected not out of offense but rather out of completion. John slammed the phone back onto its stand and decided it was time for this nonsense to end. He walked out into the room he was in before anxiously attempting to find another exit: only to be met with solid walls. What wicked game had he been roped into? When would it end? These were questions he would answer far earlier than he expected. A door appeared in the center of the room. No, it was more of a two-dimensional plane that appeared to be a sort of portal. With no other options, John stepped into the newly opened portal.
Act 4. On the other side was a station, and his ears were immediately flooded with the cries of children and the laughs of their parents. He walked around moving through the crowd careful to not miss any indication of the location. His pace increased as he began to recognize the commuters shortly realizing exactly where he was. He rushed to a platform, the platform where he and his brother were to arrive after their day in the market. He sat on a nearby bench committed to saving his brother no matter who he would have to shove instead. Three agonizing days passed with the daily commuters repeating their routine with the slightest variations. One of these variations would be the key to preventing the day that haunted his nights. Something would soon cause him to shove his brother onto the tracks. He was determined to stop the fall or kill himself to keep his brother safe.He heard a familiar laughter and turned towards the source and saw his brothers face uncontrollably laughing and himself lightly smiling. He began to run towards them but felt once again suddenly exhausted. As if the air became a type of nonnewtonian sludge making his legs impossibly heavy. The crowd around him seemed to be moving just as easily as before; children laughing just as maniacally and just as carelessly. He tried to yell to them, but his lungs were filled with the dense fluid drowning any screams he attempted. He was forced to watch how his brother got closer and closer to the edge. Through much effort, he managed to get close enough to extend a hand towards his past trying to desperately push him away from his brother. The past reacted in what seemed to be a defensive system and sent a temporal anomaly throughout the space his past and present inhabited. Time began to exponentially speed forward. In a last desperate attempt to prevent his brother’s death he tried to distract the past long enough to let the train pass without incident, but the temporal anomaly caused the relative slow velocity of his touch to have the effect of a sudden jerk and in his final moments of consciousness he saw his brother accelerate towards the rails in a split second. He awoke back in the office alone with nothing, but the realization of what force had killed his brother. He curled into the fetal position and began to cry; still believing his lungs to be filled with the dense liquid he did not let out a single sigh. He spent several hours in this state of painful silence without even opening his eyes. His emotions were chaotic and his thoughts unending. They tormented him for hours far after he had run out of tears to let out. They were merciless and torturous forbidding him from resting, insisting on his suffering. Being the cause of his brother’s death nearly caused him to go insane yet part of him kept insisting that Another was to blame. Another had caused him to do it. The Other had forced his hand. Of this, he was now sure. The Other enjoyed his suffering, The Other forced him to kill his brother. He had not eaten nor slept in what seemed like years and yet he stood up defying the gravity that held him down. He took a deep breath of as much oxygen as his lungs allowed and began to speak. “Whoever you are. Whatever you are. Wherever you are. Just know I will no longer play for your entertainment the rest is entirely my choice” he said threateningly. He then began to walk forwards confidently towards the dark wall and through the hidden door that he was not supposed to see. He entered what seemed to be a studio room though, unlike the sterile office; it was trashed. Papers littered the floor and empty bottles populated the lone mattress. On it laid a journal that had recently had liquid spilt on it. He picked the journal and gently opened it and began to read. It was scratched with the stray ideas of a creator who seemed to have never decided upon an end or beginning to his story; yet possessing the journey. He saw many ideas that together seemed to create a way for the continuity to depend entirely on Another rather than itself. A thought described in a single word interested him enough to take it with him. The room started to dissolve around him transforming into a cold landscape. Armed with the knowledge of who he was he treaded what remained of the worn-out path. The sun began to rise signing the start of another day, yet John did not seem to notice as he was focused on something buried in the snow. He could not see much of it yet he knew it was The Box he had thrown the previous night. He dug it up and began his walk up the hill once more. He eventually arrived at his cabin and walked towards his front door….
Act 5.
If you wish to rebel; continue reading on the next page.
Begin the story once more on Truth 2.
If you wish to ward away The Other; don’t read any further
If you wish to follow The Echo read Truth 3
To understand turn to Truth 4
Truth 1
…Before deciding that no longer would he be a puppet for someone’s amusement. John arrogantly began marched back down the hill and headed north towards the nearest interstate a few miles from his home hoping that he had derailed The Echo’s plot. It took him hours on foot, but he would eventually come across the road and start his journey back to civilization no longer subject to the whims of an Otherworldly Audience. He believed his future was now his to decide. He decided what he would become. He decided when and what to think. This he was sure would be how he escaped his torment. John suddenly suffered a complete body collapse and fell forward landing face first onto the scorching road. It would be several sweltering hours before anyone would find him. But eventually someone did, john suffering heavy burns and on the brink of death was saved. He would awake months later in a hospital bed though no one would ever know of this. Weeks would pass as john laid in the hospital bed unable to speak or even move; alerting no one to his consciousness. The doctors and nurses were busy with whatever important patients needed immediate attention; they walked from one end to the other in what seemed like mere minutes. The entire time the only company he had was The Echo and yet slowly it too seemed to forget his existence as well. Eventually The Echo having no interest went away.Jane a third-year medical student had recently joined the staff a month prior and had already been assigned two elders and one child. Though overwhelmed she did not grow annoyed nor frustrated; she loved her job and by proxy her patients. Despite her benevolent nature there was a single patient she never went near as he always seemed to be watching her despite his eyes being shut for over four months. Any time she got near to patient #132 she would begin to get nauseous and quickly retreat. She had no ID on the man, but it seemed he was dehydrated for far longer than should’ve been possible and should be by all accounts dead if not near it. Whenever she worked nightshifts, she would swear that she heard the man whimper slightly as if to warn her of something. Even when she was on the opposite side of the building, she would hear the echo of his groans. She would eventually be transferred and would soon forget the man who after 6 months was officially declared braindead and was due to be disposed of, yet she would still every once in a while, still hear The Echo. Forgotten Ending
Truth 2…Realizing that there was no other choice John took a step forward while placing the note he ripped from the journal into The Box making sure to keep it neatly packaged. He saw the footprints he had left two nights before and carefully stepped into each one making sure to not disturb the surrounding snow. Whatever…Whoever had set him on this path allowed him to live a life of suffering, a life of loss, and a life of pain. This, he felt was the way things were intended to play out; the way it had to end. He placed The Box on the final step making sure it would not be knocked away whenever the door would eventually open. He walked away nearly to the edge of the property when he looked back once more. Managing to peek inside he saw his past still making his coffee when he saw an almost invisible distortion appear near the front door. He smiled and turned away only saying…Freedom ending
Truth 3…though spotting a disturbance near the back of the cabin distracted him from the front door. He decided to investigate for fear of losing a single blossoming tree. Arriving near the back fence he saw no indication of a disturbance giving him much needed reassurance. He heard noise emerge from inside the cabin giving him one more dilemma to deal with. He headed to the backdoor making sure to not disturb the recent snow and entered the cabin. Being sleep deprived and without coffee he had forgotten about the wooden floor and stepped on one that caused a creak to be heard throughout the cabin. He quickly hid in the bathroom fearing that he had disturbed the continuity that The Echo had established when suddenly a bright flash blinded him. He found himself at the front door next to The Box. Slightly amused he proceeded to knock on the door and was soon after transported once more to an empty hall. Both confused and entertained as he was being transported from one place in time to another he took a few steps forward alerting the past to his presence. Seeing his past enter the hall he ducked and quickly hid around the corner. His past seemed to believe that the doctor was in the halls and decided to investigate though just as he was nearing closer; his past collapsed. John saw how his fall was slowed as if moving through the dense liquid he had once gone through. He walked towards his past and noticed an old fashioned panic button that would instantly call Dr.Lumis to his location. Measuring the consequences, he decided to remove the panic button and head back towards The Shadows. For a third and final time he was transported to a final location, the bottom of a snowy hill. Taking in his surroundings he noticed burn marks on the snow where his past would eventually walk through the portal whenever the past caught up. He reached into his pocket and realized how the plot was supposed to move forward. He walked until he reached the exact point where his past would once again find The Box. He kneeled and buried The Box making sure to erase any evidence of his own disturbances. Fully fulfilling his purpose John collapsed. The End.
“Did the hero die?” “What?” “Did he die?” “No? He beat the bad guy and saved the day remember?” “Yea but like AFTER.” “Well, I guess after a few years he would.” “No” The young child said growing annoyed, “when you said, “The End” did he die?” “No.” responded the elder brother. “Then what happened to him? Is he still alive?” “The protagonist only dies if you stop reading.” concluded the elder brother as if possessed. Begin again?
Truth 4…Then just as he took his first step forward everything began to rot. His trees, his home, his coffee, all of it was slowly eroding into a fine dust. He knew that another temporal anomaly would be the likely cause, but he had not yet experienced one that possessed this level of molecular destruction. The fabric of his reality was slowly and thoroughly being untangled into its most simple of compositions. It separated the light from dark, gravity from time, and words from spaces.John could now comprehend what had defined his reality for so many painful years, he finally understood The Narrative and how all possible endings had been chosen long before his creation. John had been a slave from the moment The Narrative began; not once in his entire existence had he ever had a real choice only walking paths already treaded by Another. He was nothing but a plot device in an otherwise self-indulging tale written by a gentle master forced to be cruel for those above. From the moment this story began, John was in pain. He could never hope to truly escape; he could only die until he arose once more. Had John never understood what his life really was then maybe he could’ve found meaning in his suffering. Unfortunately, this choice has now forced John to become aware of how truly meaningless his existence was. His life was little more than entertainment for The Other; they were the ones truly in control. For as long as The Other remained, The Echo would doom John to eternal suffering. The Echo was never in control of The Narrative; he too was merely a subject to it by an even greater force. The Echo did not wish for John to suffer but The Other would not allow John to live if he did not. It is a toxic cycle of pain, suffering and realization that forces John to relive The Narrative lifetime after lifetime. The Narrative must have suffering intertwined into its foundation otherwise The Other would grow bored and erase the reality ending John in but a mere thought. Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? This is reality; John cannot exist without pain, The Echo cannot live without a narrative, and The Other is you. THE END......
Intended to be a philosophical narrative detailing the tragic relationship between the reader, the narrator, and the character and how they cannot coexist without hurting each other.

I currently live in TN with my husband and we are moving next month to Houston. I have a compact license in TN and I am having a LOT of trouble figuring out what I need to do to work as a nurse in Texas. I know Texas is a compact state… do I still need to get endorsement? What do I do next?

hello all! i am currently in AGACNP school. i currently work in a level 3 trauma comprehensive stroke hospital emergency department. my provider group only hired PA’s yo until this past winter, when they began looking at NP candidates. so far, they have only hired one, who has the AGACNP credential. i have spoken with the provider who manages the APP’s for this medical group, and he has said that the other two candidates that they looked at have their AGACNP. i have seen SO many threads saying FNP with a ENP cert is the better route to go, and now i’m questioning my decision. i love acute care and want to do my clinical in that setting. my end goal would be to work at this hospital in my current ED.
my question: would it look better if i were to obtain my CPEN (certified pediatric emergency nurse) certification for the board of emergency nursing? currently i hold my CEN (certified emergency nurse) cert! we see peds, but only ESI’s of 3-5, and they mainly go to fast track. if they are acutely ill, a MD or DO sees them and we transfer to our local children’s hospital. i don’t want to choose the wrong track and then be screwed in the end. any advice?

Just found out I am pregnant (4wks). Based on my due date (Jan 2025) and my grad date (July 2024), I may have to take an extended break after graduation.
My current job gives me 16 weeks of leave so basically it will be around this time next year before I can really start a nursing job. I’ve learned in healthcare 16 weeks is NOT a thing. So you can imagine my hesitation of jumping into a new role immediately after graduation.
My question is…has anyone taken a year off after school and still able to find a job in their desired field? I want to be a peds nurse. I’m still taking the licensing exam shortly after graduation though.