Orange juice and headaches

Tl;Dr I'm probably going to have to tell someone I would probably fall in love with that I can't be anything with them because I'm crazy. The very painful part will be when she realizes it and moves on and gets with someone and I have to live with it. I hate my fucking brain.
This won't be a harsh self deprication vent, but I have recognized aspects of myself and that's why I chose to be single. It's something I try to work on and I give love a shot again but I always end up going down that same familiar road. And I don't like it. I put it in the same lack of self control and discipline as addiction. You can't fucking control it, it just happens.
I either just have been very very very unlucky or I've been gaslit to think I'm toxic....I don't really know, but the last relationship I was in was very bad...but the one prior to that was ok I guess now that I think about it. But I panicked and broke it off because things were going well. I want that hurt type of love, and I don't know why. I think the highs in a toxic relationship unload euphoric feelings throughout the body, but then when things are bad because someone may think they want space, I've been the spaced and the space-ee. Both ways it's a complete meltdown because the other person wants nothing else but to be with the other. Obviously this type of dynamic isn't healthy for anyone.
I've face book stalked my ex's, not in an obsessive way, but like a curious way, several years down the road. After the sting is gone. And I see them leading seemingly happy lives, and I am nothing's but happy for them. I've never reached out to anyone, just living my life. I'm 37 by the way. Longest relationship I was in was 4 years.
I know what unconditional love is. Means what it means, unconditional. You create a bond. And to me, that bond can never be broken. It can be stretched, but never broken.
I've fallen in love when I was 15 to someone that I still think about to this day. Our encounter was brief, but exciting. She ended up making out with my buddy who was dating another friend of mine and I made him tell. Me and the girl never talked until we were in our 20s. She professed her love for me, and I to her. But I was also with someone else I fell in love with. We never had the opportunity to build, and I was dealing with drama from the current girlfriend because she was cheating on me...that unconditional love? Yea, it fucking sucks sometimes...still love her to this day.
So now with the current girlfriend, her cheating, me smoking. She was deal breaker against it, but I'm addicted, so I snuck. I knew she knew, cmon, how dumb do you think I think she is? Anyone who sneaks it, your partner knows. And now it's easier because of vaping. But she equated that to a cardinal sin. Which I can't argue with that. Her perception of the world is what it is, and mine is mine. Remember that buddy that made out with my first love? When I was working 70hrs a week to help build a life, she was fucking him. They got married, moved out of state. I haven't talked to him in years. Fuck that guy. Maybe I deserved it, I wasn't prince charming. We both did bad, sucks because we love each other. There's a slim possibility she'll read this but probably won't comment on it, same as I do with hers. And there's no way for anyone else to guess who the other poster is.
So years pass and I date off and on with basically roommates, nine of them were terrible, but I never loved anyone and didn't care about feelings. So I stopped dating to work on myself. Thought I was doing great, went through an entire Sam Harris/Terrence McKenna phase. I learned transcendental meditation even though those quacks say you can't, lol ...fuck David Lynch. I can meditate into the void and float in the nothingness. I've sat in a closet for 8 hours, tripping on muahrooms to confront my demons. I took an ounce of mushrooms,.ground it up into a powder, mixed it in orange and lime juice and went into parallel worlds where I lived for years before waking up. I've seen all that there is to see inside my soul. But they still want to grab the wheel.
Met the 3rd woman at the shop I worked at. She was separated but the husband still would show up with their kids when we would meet up. That relationship was terrible. Shes an alcoholic and I though I could handle that, but the demons took over and I was reactive the entire time. She said she was manic but she self diagnosed. But she wasn't right. I don't blame her, she's a good person, unless you live with her. It ended very badly because I was too controlling and she was crazy. Not a good combo.
So it's been about 6 or 7 years and I feel good about myself. I have 2 vehicles. I work at an amazing place, I'm working on credit and all that stuff. I'm buying my parents house which will be et a steal and I can have farm animals and a garden. My health is decent and I could stand to loose about 40 pounds but other than. That? Like Im happy. I have a few animals that keep me company. But I do crave a friendship and I think older people know it's hard to have a best friend or a confidant. Someone you can just talk to any time, any day. People are busy. People have family's.
Now enter in this last week. Someone started working at the shop I work at. I think she's cute, so what, think a lot of people are cute. But she gives me that feeling. The same ones I got with the other loves. And it was always that instant. Maybe it's coincidence, maybe there's a scientific explanation for it, but I feel it with this girl. And goddamnit is she flirting from afar. I know, it's 50/50 that she is even flirting but I'm usually.riggt about these things. I can read body language. But I don't want it, I don't want to flirt with her. I don't want to make small talk. But I think that'll make her think I'm playing hard to get. I don't want to be in a relationship.

hey guys,
over the past few months, i’ve being having regular appointments at the doctors because he suspects i have pots
im finally booked in for a tilt table test late june after about 10 months and like a million different referrals because every place either didn’t do them anymore or have anyone to do it
my doctor is treating me as if i have it (we’re pretty sure i do) and at my last appointment he told me to increase my salt intake
he said an additional 1-2 tablespoons on top of what i already have and im going back in two weeks to see if more salt helped
the big question - how the hell do i have more salt 😭
my doctor said i can add it into things like orange juice but i just tried that and it was disgusting lol
anyone have any tips on how to do this or the best foods to add salt to
thank you!!!

Hi,
My partner was diagnosed with H Pylori last month. After doing the triple therapy for 2 weeks, her situation actually got worse. She was bloating the moment she ate a little bit and felt breathless. The doctor kinda gave up after these 2 weeks (except proposing a stomach CT) and we had no other treatment.
After joining this community and seeing the number of people who went down the natural path, we decided to follow it as well.
For the last 3 days, I've put her on a regiment of cabbage juice (around half a liter a day), ginger-black seed tea , and steamed broccoli (it's really hard to find broccoli sprouts). I also found a sulphoraphane supplement as well as a mastic gum supplement which she takes as well.
Overall, there are already some improvements after these 3 days: she can eat a bit more. She used to have severe headaches that have now reduced drastically.
However, the bloating and breathlessness are still there and that's causing a lot of discomfort. From your experience, is this something that eventually disappears after we follow this diet for a couple of weeks? Is there anything else I could give her to improve this situation?
I am really grateful for this community. We felt really helpless and hopeless, especially after the gastroenterologist just gave up on us... This community is giving us a direction and I am hopeful that she will get better soon!

Hi, AskDocs.
Over the past few weeks I’ve been quite ill, my symptoms were;
Stomach pain, Extreme headaches, Weak and Fatigued
When I usually get ill, depending on the intensity I usually just take the day off and sleep.
And I did that, and at first it was somewhat manageable with pain killers
But the past 3 days something changed, not only did my symptoms increase but the intensity is much higher.
Now it’s all the previous symptoms plus;
Extremely Dehydrated, no matter how much water I drink I’m thirsty, and my mouth is always dry. And my pee is a very VERY dark yellow/orange
No appetite, for some context I’m very unhealthy, when I was younger I gained weight rapidly and was depressed, so I starved myself a lot back then, so my body got used to little to no food, fast forward to now, I usually eat 1 meal a day, sometimes I forget to eat and eat the next day. The past three days I haven’t been able to eat anything, I have no appetite or hunger. I might add that I come from a struggling family and times are especially hard right now, so there isn’t much food anyways
Lastly and most interestingly, the only symptoms that affect me during the day is weakness, it’s only when I get home do I start to feel everything else, the absolute worst is anywhere from 12-3am, it becomes impossible to sleep and my brother told me he hears me moan in pain.
So please, what is wrong with me?

Okay, can we talk about the biggest misnomer in the grocery store? Orange juice is yellow! I mean, seriously, why do we call it orange juice when the actual color is more of a pale yellow? It’s almost deceptive marketing. You pour a glass expecting a vibrant orange liquid that matches the name, but instead, you get this yellowish drink. It’s like they couldn’t even get the color right for something as simple as a fruit juice. This isn’t just a minor detail; it’s an everyday reminder of how we’re being misled by something as basic as the name of a juice.
And don't get me started on the packaging. The cartons and bottles always show these luscious, bright orange slices, and you think, “Yes, that’s what I want to drink.” But nope, once you pour it out, it's practically yellow. If I wanted yellow juice, I'd go for lemonade. The truth is, the food industry is playing fast and loose with our expectations, and we’ve just come to accept it. We shouldn’t have to accept this discrepancy between what’s promised and what’s delivered. It's like a minor betrayal every morning when you pour your breakfast drink.
The worst part is, no one seems to be addressing this color conundrum. We’ve all just shrugged it off and moved on, but it’s indicative of a larger issue: the disconnect between product presentation and reality. Why can't we have orange juice that is actually orange? Is it too much to ask for some transparency and honesty in our beverages? It’s high time the juice companies come clean and either fix the color or change the name. Until then, every glass of "orange" juice is just a yellow reminder of how we settle for less than what we deserve.

So, my ordeal started around 9am Tuesday. My ass screwed up and tried anti-itch right after. I went to the urgent care around 2pm that afternoon thinking I was having a reaction to the anti-itch lidocaine dry spray I used. They ended up giving me an intramuscular injection of 30mg of Toradol which cured it within 5 minutes.
I forgot all about it and went back on my merry way and when I got home I took a shower. All good, right up until I touched my back with a towel. At which point back comes the godforsaken itch. At which point I used what I had on hand to try knock it down, which was unorthodox at best and idiotic at worst. I used to ride broncs on the weekends and own livestock, so I was familiar with the old bull rider hangover cure of throwing a few CCs of Banamine (which is an IM or IV Injection for livestock, which is also a potent NSAID, as was the Toradol) into a shot glass full of orange juice and shooting it like a shot of whiskey. That helped, but took an hour or so of agony to kick in. That coupled with a generous amount of bootleg Kentucky Clear and copious amount of weed made sleep a possibility.
Now, today I had to get on a flight and gave been without the full itch all day, but still has the phantom itch mentioned in other threads. Is it safe to shower, as I have a meeting in the morning for the work trip I am on, or should I blame the body odor on the dead chickens as I am going to a chicken plant...

So I'm currently 35 weeks pregnant, I've been puking pretty badly. I tend to puke in the sink because physically I can't get down to the toilet without it going everywhere. Usually there's no problem with the bathroom having any smell, but for some reason ghe last time I puked pretty good (apples, orange juice and oatmeal) and now I cannot get the smell out of my bathroom. I've tried everything, I've cleaned the sink, I've poured baking soda down the drain with peroxide, even cleaned the little water trap on the side of the sink(don't know what it called but the hole that catches excess water). I've looked under the skink, cleaned the floors and cleaned the counters and for the life of me cannot get rid of the smell. Could use any suggestions to get rid of the smell or what it could be

What was the orange juice that could escape through anything and was discovered at a school after barging through a kid’s torso?

Seven
...
In 1945, Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac were students at Columbia University and were lodging in Joan Vollmer’s apartment on West 115th Street. Kerouac, a Catholic who had gotten in on a football scholarship described Ginsberg as “this spindly Jewish kid with horn-rimmed glasses and tremendous ears sticking out…burning black eyes”; the two men had a brief, awkward affair. Their friend William Burroughs was living nearby, on Riverside Drive, and after Kerouac and Ginsberg set him up with their landlady, he moved in, too. The gaunt and lanky Burroughs was more than a decade older than Ginsberg and Kerouac, and already seemed, Ginsberg recalled, to have the “ashen gray of an old-age cheek.” The younger pair admired him, Ginsberg wrote, like “ambassadors to a Chinese emperor.” Kerouac hailed him as “the last of the Faustian men.” Burroughs returned the compliment by introducing the other members of the “libertine circle,” as they dubbed themselves, to drugs, sailors, porn, bathhouses, and Wilhelm Reich.

After leaving Harvard in 1936, Burroughs had enrolled at the University of Vienna’s medical schools, Reich’s alma mater, with vague plans of becoming a psychoanalyst, but his stay was dominated by the administration of arsenic shots for the syphilis he had contracted in America, which left him feeling nauseated and depressed. He left after a semester. Back in New York, Burroughs was analyzed by Paul Federn, who had been Reich’s first therapist but whom Reich came to consider his nemesis. Burroughs was institutionalized in 1940 after he chopped off the tip of his finger in a Van Gogh - like gesture of unrequited love (Bellevue psychiatrists diagnosed him as a paranoid schizophrenic). Burroughs’s parents gave him an allowance of two hundred dollars a month on the condition that he seek further help, and in 1946 Burroughs was undergoing narco-analysis with Dr. Lewis Wolberg, who used nitrous oxide and hypnosis to stimulated the unconscious.
Burroughs would return from his sessions with Wolberg to practice “wild analysis” on his friends, interpreting their dreams from the comfort of a wing chair. He also played a game that parodied the Reichian character analysis that he’d become interested in. The group would play an adaption of charades to facilitate the exploration of the onion layers of their personality armor. Burroughs referred to these exercises in amateur dramatics as “routines.” For example, underneath Burroughs’s public persona as the distinguished heir of an important St. Louis family lurked a prissy, lesbian English governess (“My dear, you’re just in time for tea. Don’t say those dirty words in front of everybody!”). Scratch the governess surface and you reached Old Luke, a gun-toting, tobacco-chewing sharecropper from the Deep South (“Ever gut a catfish?”). The last stratum, at his very core, held a silent Chinaman, a contemplative, impassive character who sat meditating on the banks of the Yangtse. Ginsberg’s hidden self was “the well-groomed Hungarian,” and Kerouac liked to play the naïve American lost in the sophistications of Paris.
Alfred Kinsey met Burroughs, Ginsberg, and Kerouac on one of their nocturnal trips to Time Square through their friend Herbert Huncke, the male prostitute who coined the term “beat” and introduced Burroughs to recreational drugs. Kinsey paid Huncke
Taking advantage of the proximity of Cott’s office to his father’s home, and still buzzing in the mouth, Ginsberg chose to come out during a posttherapeutic visit. “You mean you like to take men’s penises in your mouth?” his father said unsympathetically. But Cott thought homosexuality a perversion, as Reich did, and was working toward establishing heterosexual primacy rather than trying to persuade Ginsberg to come to terms with his queerness. “Frankly I won’t trust that kind of straight genital Reichian,” Burroughs wrote in disgust at this dogmatism. “Feller say, when a man gets too straight he’s just a god damned prick.”
Cott terminated Ginsberg’s therapy after three months because he continued to smoke pot against the doctor’s advice. Ginsberg though cannabis an integral part of his aesthetic education; Cott feared that it would lead to a psychotic episode. The summer he quit therapy, Ginsberg began experiencing auditory hallucinations. “It was like God had a human voice,” Ginsberg wrote of his transcendental experience, in which he discovered his calling as a poet, “with all the infinite tenderness and mortal gravity of a living Creator speaking to his son.” Consumed by a desire to share his amazing experience, Ginsberg crawled out onto his fire escape and tapped on the next-door neighbor’s windows, declaring to the two frightened girls inside, “I’ve seen God!”
His father, still reeling from the discovery of his son’s sexuality, feared that he was suffering from the paranoid schizophrenia that had caused his mother to be institutionalized in Pilgrim State, a mental hospital on Long Island. She also heard voices, feared her husband was trying to poison her, hallucinated Hitler’s mustache in the sink, and thought spies were following her. When Ginsberg entered Reichian analysis, she was reportedly banging her head against the wall so ferociously that the doctors recommended a lobotomy.
Ginsberg phoned up Dr. Cott, his former therapist, and told him, “It happened, I had some kind of breakthrough or psychotic experience.” Cott, who followed Reich in rejecting the talking cure, and who was obviously still angry at Ginsberg for choosing pot over therapy, said, “I’m afraid any discussion would have no value” and hung up on him. Soon afterward, when Ginsberg was involved in a car chase in a stolen vehicle that ended in a dramatic crash, he was encouraged by a law professor at Columbia, where he was still a student, to plead insanity. Dr. Cott appeared in court to testify to his mental instability, and two months later Ginsberg was admitted to the Columbia Presbyterian Psychiatric institute, where he stayed for eight months.
During Ginsberg’s hospitalization, Burroughs wrote to Jack Kerouac to ask him to find out from Ginsberg what the “gadget made by Reichians” looked like. “I want especially to know its shape and if there is a window, and how one gets into it.” Kerouac doesn’t seem to have been much help in providing a blueprint. Burroughs built his first accumulator in the spring of 1949 when he was living on a rented farm in Pharr, Texas, with Kells Elvins, a friend from his Harvard days. They were both enthusiastically reading Reich’s The Cancer Biopathy and decided to build an accumulator in the orange grove Kells owned in the Rio Grande Valley. Built without recourse to any plans, the resulting device included some curious innovations. “Inside was an old icebox,” Burroughs explained, “which you could get inside and pull on a contrivance so that another box of sheet steel descended over you, so that the effect was presumably heightened.” It took them a few days to construct the box. The result was eight feet high, much taller than the ones Reich manufactured: “It was a regular townhouse,” Burroughs recalled.
The pair took turns sitting in the accumulator and obtained, Burroughs wrote, “unmistakable results.” Burroughs wondered what the Mexican farm laborers thought of this strange box that they entered “wrapped in old towels,” and came out of feeling “much sexier and healthier,” “with hard-ons.” Burroughs and Kells also made one of Reich’s smaller shooter boxes, with a funnel, which they used as a supplement to the big box. Their DIY was, Burroughs admitted, “a very sloppy job,” but it still have a powerful “sexual kick.”
"I have just been reading Wilhelm Reich’s latest book The Cancer Biopathy,” Burroughs wrote excitedly to Kerouac. “I tell you Jack, he is the only man in the analysis line who is on that beam. After reading the book I built an orgone accumulator and the gimmick really works. The man is not crazy, he’s a fucking genius.” Kerouac described Burroughs enthusiastically promoting the box in On the Road (1955). According to Kerouac, Burroughs said, “Say, why don’t you fellows try my orgone accumulator? Put some juice in your bones. I always rush up and take off ninety miles an hour for the nearest whorehouse, hor-hor-hor!”
Burroughs used an orgone box on and off for the rest of his life. (There is a picture of the rock star Kurt Cobain waving through the port-hole of Burrough’s last box, a scruffy, patched-up shed that he kept in the garden behind his house in Lawrence, Kansas.) In the 1970s he wrote an article for Oui magazine entitled “All the accumulators I have owned” in which he boasted, “Your intrepid reporter, at age thirty-seven, achieved spontaneous orgasm, no hands, in an orgone accumulator built in an orange grove in Pharr, Texas. It was the small, direct-application accumulator that did the trick.”
….
Perls concluded that any positive claims for the orgone box were attributable to the placebo effect. “I invariably found a fallacy,” he said of the orgone box users he met, “a suggestibility that could be directed in any way that I wanted.” Reich, Perls thought, had made a major contribution in giving Freud’s notion of resistance a body, but he erred in trying to make a verifiable reality out of the libido. “Now resistances do exist, there is no doubt about it,” Perls explained, “but libido was and is a hypothesized energy, invented by Freud himself to explain his model of man.” He thought Reich had hypnotized himself and his patients into the belief of the existence of the orgone as the physical and visible equivalent of libido.
Perls found that users of orgone boxes usually exhibited some paranoid symptoms. “Then I had another look at the armor theory,” Perls went on, “and I realized that the idea of the armor itself was a paranoid form. It supposes an attack from, and defense against, the environment.” Perls criticized vegetotherapy for encouraging the formation of paranoid features by encouraging the patient to “externalize, disown, and project material that could be assimilated and become part of the self.” Orgone energy, Perls concluded from his investigations into the orgone box, was “an invention of Reich’s fantasy which by then had gone astray.” The realization that the Reich he had met in New York was different from the one he had known in Europe, and that orgone mysticism was at the crackpot end of science, was tinged with melancholy. “The enfant terrible of the Vienna Institute turned out to be a genius,” Perls wrote in his autobiography, “only to eclipse himself as a ‘mad scientist.’”
In his own elaboration of character analysis, which he called Gestalt therapy, Perls turned the idea of armor around: where Reich had come to see character armor as a defense against a hostile external world, Perls saw that same layer of self as a shield for one’s own true drives - a straitjacket designed to safeguard against explosions of excitement from within. Thus, it wasn’t a shell to be crushed but something integral, to be owned. (Laura Perls said they tried to convince Rosenfeld to give up his box, that he could increase his physical vitality and mental agility “entirely on his own, without external devices.”) He wanted his patients to be aware of their bodies, to feel the present vividly in the “here and now,” to be “authentic,” to act on their desires.
Perls got his patients to act out their feelings so that they could assimilate and take responsibility for them. He had originally wanted to be a theater director - he’d been a student of Max Reinhardt’s when he was growing up in Berlin, and he’d become closely associated with the avant-garde Living Theatre troupe in New York. Julian Beck, a founder of the Living Theatre, explained to Perls’s biographer, Martin Shepard, of Gestalt therapy, “[Perls] had something in mind that was halfway between the kind of performance we were doing [direct spectacle, aimed at challenging the moral complacency of the audience] and therapeutic sessions.”
“You are my client,” Perls told one female patient. “I care for you like an artist, I bring something out that is hidden in you.” He described therapy as if it were a magic trick; the rabbit he claimed to pull out of the hat was a person shorn of the “neurosis of normalcy” and all the bourgeois niceties associated with it. This person, he hypothesized, was confident enough to be selfish, to act on rather than repress all her desires, whatever the social consequences. All the energy that others wasted on repression and concealment, Perls thought, should be available for creative self-expression. Another of Perls’s patients recalled, “Fritz loved some types - open bastard-bitch - open defenses, that type. He didn’t like anyone who would placate him or be too good to him or used good-girl or good-boy defenses - that drove him up the wall.”

Perls’s views ,and some of his methods, were much indebted to those pioneered by Reich in the thirties: Perls would habitually accuse his patients of being “phony” and was deliberately aggressive, much as Reich had been with him. Yet, his observations about the paranoid deviations in Reich’s terminology and thinking were painfully perceptive, precisely because he had built on those very ideas.
In 1951, Perls, Paul Goodman, and a Columbia professor of psychology named Ralph Hefferline published Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in the Human Personality. Rewritten by Goodman, and bearing all the hallmarks of Goodman’s exasperating style, the book blends Reich’s ideas about energy blocks and flows with Sartre’s cafe philosophy to create an American brand of existentialism turned therapy. The authors intended their self-help book to provide the reader with the tools for revolution: “In recommending [these experiments] to you,” they warned of their mass-market therapy, “we commit an aggressive act aimed at your present status quo and whatever complacency it affords.” They promised immediate liberation, without the hard grind of political struggle; all you had to do was unleash your “authentic” self.
The “excitement” to which the subtitle of the book refers is a generalized libido, an elan vital that is seeking various outlets, not all of them sexual. Life, for Perls, was a series of “unfinished” or “undigested” situation, frustrations that were all waiting their turn for satisfactory closure. “After the available excitement has been fully transformed and experienced, then we have good closure, satisfaction, temporary peace and nirvana,” Perls summarized his position. “A [mere] discharge will barely bring about the feeling of exhaustion and being spent.”
It sounded very like the Reichian orgasm. But for Perls, excitement was no longer exclusively genital, as it was for Reich, and this shift only served to open up numerous other slipways to pleasure. In Reich’s view, the libido theory was an inviolable article of faith. In broadening its range to celebrate oral and anal pleasures, Perls heralded a polymorphously perverse and heretical vision - one that, ironically, would prove particularly amenable to exploitation under capitalism.
In 1952, Perls, his wife, Goodman, Isidore From, Elliott Shapiro, and two others founded the New York Institute for Gestalt Therapy, headquartered in the Perleses’ apartment and with treatment rooms at 315 Central Park West. The seven founding members met on a weekly basis for group therapy. There was no bureaucratic hierarchy and everyone, including Perls, was subject to the honest criticism that was seen as the key to self-discovery. It was a very public form of character analysis: members of the group would draw one another’s attention to every repression or hang-up, none of which was to be tolerated.
Elliot Shapiro, an ex-boxer and the head of a psychiatric school attached to Kings County Hospital in Brooklyn, brought a friend to one session; Shapiro’s friend said he “had never witnessed the aggressive and profound battling that went on in those groups. Nobody, virtually nobody, was safe at any time.” Shapiro recalled, “We hammered at each other, and hammered, and hammered - every week. And it was the most vigorous hammering you can image….If you could live through these groups and take the corrections, the insults, the remarks…” Not all the participants had sufficiently thick skins to take such brutal candor. The psychotherapist Jim Simkin left the group because he felt that everyone was “loading elephant shit on him,” as did Ralph Hefferline, a coauthor of Gestalt Therapy.
To promote this new school, Perls traveled from city to city, introducing an audience of psychiatrists, social workers, and other interested parties to his “here and now” philosophy. He taught groups in Cleveland, Detroit, Toronto, and Miami how to be sensitive to their bodily needs and to follow their impulses, to be honest and unalienated. He’d be sharp and confrontational as he pushed his awareness techniques on the participants: What are you doing now? What are you experiencing? What are you feeling? Isadore From, who was part of the original New York group, remembers that these occasions were often very dramatic, with “a lot of shaking, trembling, anxiety” - effects that he thought were the result of the audiences’ hyperventilating under the strain of Perls’s relentless goading and questioning.
The New York Institute of Gestalt Therapy also ran public seminars, including one by Goodman, “The Psychology of Sex” (“What you can’t do, teach,” he said with a laugh). Following Reich, it was thought that neurosis could be treated by exposure to sexual pleasure. Goodman made this his area of expertise and people with sexual problems were often referred to him. One was a man who was worried about the quality of his orgasms after prostate surgery. Another thought he might be homosexual; the bisexual Goodman got his penis out and demanded that the patient touch it to help him make a diagnosis. In so doing he was no doubt influenced by Hitschmann, the Viennese analyst who once asked Perls, then tormented by sexual inadequacy, to show him his penis .
In one of Goodman’s group sessions, when someone complained of the lack of sexual companionship, Goodman went around the circle and set up a week’s worth of dates. “See, that wasn’t so difficult,” he reassured her. He was not beyond offering his own neurosis-busting services to patients of either sex, and once agreed to accompany a patient who invited him on an all-expenses-paid trip to Europe. He joked about setting up a College of Sex so as to put his vast experience to educational use. “I’m a sociopath,” he wanted a potential client. In a diary entry written in 1957, Goodman looked back on the previous decade and concluded that he’s made a “false cultus-religion (an obsession)” of sex: “The sexual act itself had just about the meaning of a ritual communion sacrifice.”

I made a few good non-alcoholic Mules that I want to share. I find that lemon juice works best with these.
Kentucky Mule

• 2 ½ oz SPIRITLESS Kentucky 74 Non-Alcoholic Bourbon Whiskey
• ½ oz Lemon juice (fresh)
• 2 dashes Ginger Bitters or non-alcoholic Aromatic bitters
• Top with Reeds Ginger Beer (Zero or Regular)

1. Put ice in your Mule mug
2. Pour bourbon into the mug
3. Add bitters
4. Add ginger beer and combine by stirring.
5. Garnish using a lemon wheel and enjoy.

Mexican Blood Orange Mule

• 2 oz Almave Amber: Non-Alcoholic Blue Agave Spirit
• ½ oz Lemon juice (fresh)
• 2 dashes Ginger Bitters or non-alcoholic Aromatic bitters
• Top with half of Reeds Ginger Beer (Zero or Regular) and half Fever Tree Blood Orange Ginger Beer

1. Put ice in your Mule mug
2. Pour bourbon into the mug
3. Add bitters
4. Add ginger beer and combine by stirring.
5. Garnish using a lemon wheel and enjoy.

I’m a European living in the US for 11 years now. In 2023 my apartment got flooded twice so I moved twice and became a bit territorial and protective due to trauma.
Last December I asked my best friend to move in with me after I lost my job. He doesn’t have any furniture, he sleeps in my spare bed, uses my desk, plates, etc. We don’t even equally share groceries tbh and I didn’t ask for 50% because he doesn’t come from a financially stable background. He’s been working at a fast food chain for as long as I known him.
I had an SWE job that I lost back in December. I have money that I have saved that allows me to live in the same conditions as I did and having some money off from my rent was also a big bonus.
Im a 23+ year old woman and when I was living by myself I had random knocks on my doors or maintenance come in while I was at work so I installed some cameras before my friend moved in and he was aware.
We’ve been living together for 2 months and everything was fine except for his sister who always crashed because it was convenient for her which I hated but I can’t say no its my best friends sister.
I was gone to FL for 5 days and the first red flag emerged when when he invited his sister over without telling me. I found out through the security camera. It made me mad not because I didn’t want her and I didn’t but because why wouldn’t you tell me?
So she started making this a regular thing. One day my friend had a super early morning shift and his sister had crashed and my dad was on his way from Europe so I wanted to clean the apartment but my friends sister was there so I couldn’t. Around afternoon I interrupted her TV show to ask when his brother was gonna wake up and she said “Oh he left 5 hours ago” and a part of me desperately wanted to say “then why are you here”
She asked me which food is mine and which is her brothers and I told her we didn’t have rules like that so she should enjoy herself. Im thinking she’s gonna eat some cereal or some eggs or something. She ends up making herself a whole meal: eggs, bacon, sausage, tater tots, coffee, orange juice all of it. I’m not from the US but damn I expected some decency. She also left her dirty socks on the living room floor and left like its her house and I’m her maid lmao. Real attitude problems because she’s the only one in the family that didn’t get kicked out and got called satan’s child.
Anyways today I went to Alabama for Hangout festival and at 10am the security camera got cut off which obviously made it super suspicious. I trusted my apartment and all of my entire belongings to him once again and he texts me saying “Hey my sisters friends plane got cancelled can he crash with us” No name mentioned whatsoever btw. Never met the guy. He barely knows the guy. Somehow he’s giving me false sense of security like “oh ill make sure he wont go into your room while he’s on the couch and I’m in my own wing of the apt. Also my sister can’t take him bc she won’t be home either” like wtf??? I said no I don’t want strangers while I’m gone and why is the camera off and he said its bc he find it creepy but he didn’t find it creepy at all until I left. Like the moment I leave for 4 days and he has the whole apt to himself he find the cameras weird all of a sudden.
I told him this was a huge red flag for me and he has ghosted me since. I’m gonna think about my apartment for 4 days now. And I guess I have to find a way to end this…
I have been through with him thick and thin when his own family had kicked him out and now I feel betrayed.
I’ll take any advice I can get thank you!!

Considering doing banana cleanse for an extended period time to fight fatigue and lose weight. I am curious about adding extra juices in, in addition to celery and cucumber, such as watermelon, orange etc. for extra energy and hydration. Curious if anyone has heard Anthony talk about if this is acceptable or not

I think is worth it to discuss this, since the ingredients are simple and not over done. I see constantly people asking for the recipe to carne asada or tacos de bistec marinade. And while everyone is free to cook as they please their food, the truth is most times we only use salt and lime juice just like this taqueria so flavor out meat for a cookout.
The most I have seen people use is lime and orange juice with salt and or beer. Some people go way overboard using cilantro, onion, garlic, chilli powder…but it takes away from the flavor of the meat.
My biggest recommendation is get Colima salt. There’s something about it that just adds the right amount of flavor.
The taqueria is Tacos El Califa de Leon and they specialize in 4 types of tacos. It’s a small place.

Gallivant are a London based perfumery creating ‘fragrance for urban explorers’. Their fragrances are all named after and inspired by big cities.
They currently have their 12 scents available as a sample set called the Nomad Discovery Set for £35, which includes credit for a full bottle. I read through all their scent descriptions and didn’t actually want the full set, so I only ordered 4. However, I’ve been sent a 10-sample set that doesn’t include Accra and Abu Dhabi. Probably extra stock of an older set so fair enough.
Their 30ml FBs are £70, and their 100 mls are £150.
These first four reviews are for the 4 fragrance samples I originally ordered (i.e I am more likely to enjoy them based on their notes and description)
Brooklyn

• bergamot, squeezed lemon and orange juice. Incense, cardamom, fresh air and ozonic notes
• magnolia, orris root and transparent flowers
• musks, white woods, benzoin, amber

I can't pick out invidual notes here, but I DO get the warmth on the skin vibes they are after! It’s gentle and soothing - I think there’s a faint vanilla in there. I wouldn’t call it ‘fizz on an urban playground’, more like a sunny balcony overlooking the street. It continues to be soft and gentle the whole way through wear, it’s very cuddly and I’d wear it to snuggle with my boyfriend. Compared to the others, it’s warm without as much incense.
Definitely on the skin scent side, but I don’t mind for how intimate it feels. It lasted on my skin past lunchtime, and my mom adored that it lasted all day on her clothes. This already feels hard to top.
Sister thinks it smells generic, but our baseline is mom’s perfume collection (she likes powdery scents). I guess it’s more like, it smells of mom in a good way. Like a comforting way.
I wore Brooklyn as my SOTD on the 8th May - a couple sprays on my left wrist. It's not a strong projector but it was still on my wrist after 6 hours.
Los Angeles.

• "Airy and aromatic in the opening with notes of eucalyptus, clary sage, mandarin and pineapple
• A floral heart with an absolute of narcissus and tuberose – a nod to the Mexican flavour of this city
• And a shimmering smoky woody base with cade, guaiac wood, nagarmotha / cypriol, musks and heliotrope"

I definitely get all three of these layers to the scent. An evening out on holiday. Classy, fun, little black dress and heels and having a night out on the town by the beach. It will cool you in a heatwave and warm you when there’s an evening chill. It doesn’t match me personality wise, but it’s still a nice scent! I will keep this sample for a night out.
Tel Aviv

• "clementine, bergamot, natural blackcurrant bud absolute
• jasmine sambac absolute, comoros’ ylang ylang, rose oil, freesia
• sandalwood, musks, deer’s tongue (liatrix) absolute, benzoin"

Lovely florals! Definitely on the rosy side. Sweet (but not overly so!) and sunny. This projects a bit more than the other three I picked. Once the citrus fades out we’re left with an almost soapy floral mix.
Sis: smells like febreeze.
Tokyo

• yuzu, bergamot, black pepper and cardamom, electrified with a dash of wasabi
• A woody heart of hinoki, cedarwood, orris root, nutmeg, rose and incense.
• A base of amber, sandalwood, patchouli and vetiver

I’m hoping to visit Tokyo sometime not too far away, and the initial spray is kind of how I’d imagine it would smell? Once it hits the dry down it reminds me of a scent from Oud Attar - warm, woody, incense like. It’s not bad but not really my thing.
The following reviews are for the rest of the set (I.e. I wasn’t particularly drawn to them based on description, and would be surprised to get a hit out of these)
London

• cucumber, violet leaves
• rose de mai absolute, rose oil, orris root
• suede, leather, sandalwood, patchouli, cedarwood

Rosy, woody and leathery for sure! I wish the cucumber stuck around, that was really refreshing? What a cool and gritty scent. I get a ton of leather (I’ve never smelt leather in a fragrance, but I used to work in a shoe store and once the association clicked I was like WOAH, back room, men’s shoe shelves smell?? ). It’s not for me, but it really makes me feel like I’m one of the cool crowd, earning enough to live in London. (I realise I could say this about any other big city, but as a Brit and not a Londoner it was what I felt in my soul.)
Sister didn’t like it - it gets points for being accurate to London, but loses points for being London, haha!! Reminds her of dad’s colognes though...?
Naples

• Bergamot, pepper, ginger, salt
• incense
• clearwood, patchouli, vetiver, birch

Incense and patchouli really bring a warm and spicy feel forward here. It’s a touch aquatic too. There’s citrus in it, but I don’t really get it, unfortunately.
Istanbul

• "bergamot, cardamom, red thyme
• lavender absolute, egyptian geranium essence, patchouli heart, sweet myrrh (opoponax) essence
• sandalwood, vanilla, tonka bean, amber, musks"

I have no idea what’s goin on here but I’m surprised to find that I like this. A warm floral feel. Not something I’d like on myself though!
We are discovering sis’ licorice note she doesn't like is possibly cardamom.
Berlin

• "grapefruit, clementine, lemon and schinus molle CO2 extract
• A spicy heart containing black pepper and black tea and woody undertones of Haitian vetiver, cedarwood and patchouli"

It is what it is. Just as described, not really standing out. Sis says it smells discordant. The top notes are great, but the rest not so much.
Bukhara

• "caraway, pear, coriander and bergamot
• A floral woody heart with orris, ambrette, osmanthus and a touch of jasmine. Clove and apricot enrich the colours and textures
• And a base of benzoin resin, saffron, amber, wood and cotton-soft musks. And Ralf's transparent silk accord (one of the first things he ever created at perfume school)"

sis says it’s a hotel reception smell. I say it’s like a hotel with a spa in it. Then she says it develops into a an orthodontist waiting room.
Gdansk

• "plum, honey, cardamom, nutmeg and saffron
• A rich, woody heart with leather notes, cistus absolute, sustainable sandalwood oil from New Caledonia, patchouli, and incense resinoid – with a light touch of rose
• And a deep, earthy, smoky ambery base of tobacco absolute, cypriol, styrax (liquidambar), vanilla, musks and ambergris ( we use a plant-derived substitute, no animal by-products )"

an autumnal scent. I don’t really have much to say about this one! For many of these scents it's just been a lot of incense and there's only so many ways I can tell you I'm not a fan.
Sister's ranking:

1. Gdansk
2. Los angeles
3. Naples
4. London
5. Tel aviv
6. Tokyo
7. Berlin and istanbul
8. Brooklyn
9. Bukhara

Overall - Their blends seem to be gentle enough to my nose (I.e, I wasn’t immediately repulsed by any). My sister felt that the scents transitioned much faster than other sets we tried. It smells as if there’s incense in many of them to give that warm and spicy feel, which I don’t tend to like in fragrances at the moment. But I can understand how, with their goal of travelling via scent, incense becomes a realistic and homely and cultural link.
As a set, it’s like the opposite of the Saltworks Company Fresh Experience set (cool and fresh vs warm and spiced). It’s less a holiday, less touristy and more backpacking across the world to meet new people and broaden your horizons. It’s the smells you get when you don’t stay in a hotel but are welcomed into someone else’s home. You’re not wearing these for beast mode projection, but because it’s reminding you of something nice. They do last well, over 6 hours on me for quite a few of them.
FB worthy? As of now I’ve actually bought a small bottle of Brooklyn for my mom and I to share as we loved it so much. Neither of us have been to Brooklyn, though.
Next on my trial sets to try is Floral Street. At some point soon I'll have to destash my samples (if you're UK based... 👀)!
Let me know if you've tried this brand! What other sets would you suggest for me to try next?

Yesterday I took 1 pill of Xanax that my doctor prescribed for me for my anxiety (0,25 mg for one week). But I did not know that you cannot eat grapefruit or drink grapefruit juice (unfortunately it’s my favorite fruit).
Today I bought myself a big bottle of Schweppes with orange, grapefruit, lime and tangerine extracts. Now I’m very scared to take my today’s pill because I read that it can lead to serious issues or overdose. I’m so scared, please help. Thanks.

Yesterday I took 1 pill of Xanax that my doctor prescribed for me for my anxiety (0,25 mg for one week). But I did not know that you cannot eat grapefruit or drink grapefruit juice (unfortunately it’s my favorite fruit).
Today I bought myself a big bottle of Schweppes with orange, grapefruit, lime and tangerine extracts. Now I’m very scared to take my today’s pill because I read that it can lead to serious issues or overdose. I’m so scared, please help. Thanks.

Yesterday I took 1 pill of Xanax that my doctor prescribed for me for my anxiety (0,25 mg for one week). But I did not know that you cannot eat grapefruit or drink grapefruit juice (unfortunately it’s my favorite fruit).
Today I bought myself a big bottle of Schweppes with orange, grapefruit, lime and tangerine extracts. Now I’m very scared to take my today’s pill because I read that it can lead to serious issues or overdose. I’m so scared, please help. Thanks.