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Back in 2012, I started the process of leaving my abusive ex husband. While his abuse was mostly verbal and emotional, during the divorce, he got physical.
I had filed for default in the divorce and this set him off. He called the bank and had my bank account frozen and then came to my house to take things. I went in the garage to try and stop him and he hit me in the face. I called the cops and he was arrested. I went down to the court house the next day and got a restraining order.
During this time, child support opened a case. This enraged him even more and he made contact via a third party, claiming I was psychotic. I documented the restraining order violation with a police report and went about my life.
A few weeks later, I was out with the kids on the 4th of July, when I got a call from the Sheriff’s Dept. My ex had called them and claimed I was suicidal. They looked and saw I had a restraining order against him so they were calling to check on me. I told them I was fine and I was out watching fireworks with my kids. They said to have a good night. I thought that was the end of it.
About a month later, I had taken an Ambien, but instead of laying down, I did the dishes. Then I couldn’t remember if I had taken my pill or not, so I took it again, not realizing I had already taken it. I was looking over old messages in my email and found an email from my ex. I felt bad about how things were between us. I texted him, “I’m not gonna bother you anymore. Let’s just try to be amicable from now on.” . I put my phone down and fell asleep.
A short while later, I saw flashlights in my bedroom window. I got up to find the Sheriff’s Dept at my door. I opened the door and they told me that my ex had called them and said I was suicidal. I told them I had a restraining order against him. They asked to come inside and I let them in. A fatal mistake.
I explained that things were very stressful between us and that I had texted him I wasn’t going to bother him anymore and requested that we try to be amicable. I showed them my phone. I told them that I had taken an Ambien and went to bed. They asked to see my pill bottle. I gave it to them. They counted the pills and that’s when it was discovered that I took 2 pills instead of 1. The Sheriff wanted to take me to the hospital to get checked out. I cooperated with them.
They called my ex to come and get the kids, but his phone was off. I had to give them his room mates number. I told the Sheriff, “If he really thought I was suicidal, why would he turn his phone off after calling you out here? He is just harassing me.” They got ahold of him, he came and got the kids and they drove me to the hospital.
The hospital counselor comes and talks to me. I explain that I have a restraining order against the person claiming that I’m suicidal. I took the extra Ambien by mistake. It was an accident. I’m not suicidal. I’m under the care of a therapist as my divorce is very stressful. She refuses to call my therapist and instead places me on a 5150 psych hold. Now I am terrified. I’m being locked away at the request of someone I have a restraining order against.
They put me in an ambulance and ship me two hours away to the looney bin. Because it is Saturday, I didn’t see the psychiatrist until Monday. I spent that two days in utter shock. My abuser made me disappear and he used the Sheriffs to help him do it.
Monday comes. I see the psychiatrist. I explain that I have a restraining order against the person claiming I’m suicidal. The Ambien thing was an accident. My therapist can verify everything. He tells me if my therapist backs my story, he will end the hold and send me home. He calls my therapist. My therapist demands that they release me immediately. Psych tells me he will work on getting me out of here.
I used the phone at the nurses station to check my voicemail. I have a vm from my ex’s attorney saying that my ex filed for sole custody of the kids and the hearing was tomorrow. That’s when it hit me. He had me locked away on a 5150 to get the kids in his possession to file for custody to get out of paying child support. I played the message for the nurse. They got my discharge done and got me out of there within an hour.
I showed up to court the next day. His attorney approached me and asked if I would be willing to sign custody over to my ex. I stared at him until he backed away from me. When they called our case, it turned out the filing fees weren’t paid so the court refused to hear the case. We were rescheduled to the next day.
I left the court house, got a letter from my therapist and copies of all police reports. I came back the next morning and provided everything to the judge. The judge refused to give my ex custody and referred us to mediation. He instructed my ex to return the kids to me immediately. My babies were home that night.
After this incident, I was afraid to pursue the restraining order. If he was able to weaponize the Sheriff’s Dept against me in my own home with a restraining order in place, I would never be safe in this town. I had to find a new plan. I had to find a way to leave town.
6 months later, after giving away everything I owned and moving out of my place, I showed up to the court house on a crisp spring morning where I was granted permission to leave the state of California with my babies. We walked out of the court house, got in the car and drove away. We reached Las Vegas by midnight. That wasn’t our final destination, just the first part of our journey. And that is the story of how I escaped my abuser.

I've (F14) been friends with this guy(M15) since the sixth grade and I only became friends with him bc I liked him but I kept him around bc he was pretty good company and we have this big friend group. He's been sending me mixed signals for like forever but this time it's worrying. The other day I went to my friends bday party and I was hanging out with some people from my biology class and out of nowhere he shows up. I was hella confused bc he was not invited 😭 but it was good bc i barely knew anyone there. It was a group of 5 hanging out and about 2 hours had passed and the other 3 had already left. We decided to sit on a swinging bench kinda secluded from everyone else in a corner outside. It was just us two laughing and talking and I saw he had his hand open and there was a little like bruise ish thing on it. I pointed at it and after he explained it I left my hand resting on his. He then kept inching his hand more until both of our hands were interlocked. A few minutes pass by and we're paying no mind to the fact that our hands are casually interlocked and then some bitch ass dude comes walking by and goes "guys we're going to play a game inside come on!!"
We go inside and theres no game happening 😐. I sneak back outside and so does he. In my mind im thinking "man my little romantic moment is over 😞". We sit back down and the first thing he does is put his arm around my shoulder and make my head lay where the crook of his neck is. Back in my head Im freaking tf out bc we're never like this close. We were still talking and laughing when about 10 minutes later he gets a call from his mom saying she's here to pick him up. He responds with "gimme a few minutes". He just continues our conversation and pretends like his mom isnt waiting outside for him😭. Then IIIIIII get a call from my mom saying she's here to come pick me up , I respond with the same thing he said. We stay there still laughing and he goes " I really don't want to leave" and I just tell him we should probably get going because his mom is super strict. I wait a few minutes for him to get in his car and leave bc his mom doesnt like me AT ALL.
I get home and im still freaking out bc Ive never been in a relationship before and there were multiple times where our faces were really close and I thought he was going to kiss me. We haven't texted since then and Idk what to say. Should I bring it up or pretend like nothing happened?? (hes probbaly not going to bring it up bc hes a PUSSY)

Lately I've been shocked by the difference between Palestinian messaging and how it is understood in the west. In their original 1988 charter, Hamas clearly lays out their goal of annihilating Israel and Jews through Jihad (Islamic Holy War).

'Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it, just as it obliterated others before it.' (Preamble)
'The Day of Judgment will not come about until Moslems fight Jews and kill them. Then, the Jews will hide behind rocks and trees, and the rocks and trees will cry out: 'O Moslem, there is a Jew hiding behind me, come and kill him.' (Article 7)
'The day the enemies usurp part of Moslem land, Jihad becomes the individual duty of every Moslem. In the face of the Jews' usurpation, it is compulsory that the banner of Jihad be raised.' (Article 15)

The magnitude of this anti-Jew and anti-Israel ideology is such that it is a core part of Palestinian youth education and media. There are many examples, but here are just a few. The first two would be comical if they weren't so perverse and diabolical.
Hamas Mickey Mouse
Gazan Kindergarten Graduation Ceremony
Jews are barbaric apes
This propaganda has real-world effects. Dozens of Palestinian children are used as suicide bombers. I'd encourage people to read through this page if any.
Hamas's actions are in line with their stated aims. On October 7, Hamas and Gazan civilians can be seen celebrating over dead Israeli bodies. One video shows Gazans cheering, dancing, and spitting on dead naked Israeli woman, reflecting the fact that systemic rape on Oct 7 occurred. Over 70% of Palestinians support the actions on Oct 7. Hamas has promised to repeat Oct 7 again and again.
We also see this ideology reflected in the Palestinian Authority's "Pay for Slay", a fund that pays West Bank Palestinians a stipend for committing terrorism against Israel.
The point of sharing these things is not to demonize Palestinians or make any type of justification. The point is that in the west, we mistranslate this conflict into a framework that we comprehend and sympathize with. For most westerners, it's difficult to commiserate with religious fundamentalists and accept that they might want different things than we do (such as using billions of dollars in aid for terrorism instead of infrastructure). SJP would have you believe that Hamas wants to "decolonize" Palestine and Oct 7 was "resistance". Israel is the "white" oppressor, and Palestine is the oppressed--a framework we are all too familiar with. We assume that Hamas wants coexistence, when their words and actions have shown the opposite.
The "From the river to the sea" chant was created in the 60s and has historically been used by Hamas among other groups as a call to destroy Israel. A variation of the phrase in Arabic is "From the river to the sea, Palestine will be Arab". Yet in the west we associate the phrase with Palestinian "liberation", a concept that we can relate to. Consider the absurdity of someone waving a swastika and claiming that it's a Buddhist good fortune symbol. But this is essentially happening at colleges across the US, along with intifada chants. The war itself is a different topic--I just wanted to elucidate how westerners downplay the religious and ideological, despite Hamas themselves displaying their intent to destroy Israel and Jews.

Ok a little background: I have epilepsy with 99% of my seizures are nocturnal TC but I have had auras while awake and maybe 10 generalized seizures after an aura, over 20 years with epilepsy.
I’ll provide more detail below but my question summarized: has anyone ever had a (unique for them) generalized seizure and lost memories preceding it with no post-ictal period?
The situation: I got evacuated from a hotel during a fire alarm in the middle of the night. I woke up fine and made it downstairs 5 floors all good. Was thinking clearly, texting family and friends complaining about it. I decide to walk a little away from the fire exit where most of the people were huddled together. I texted again.
Next thing I remember I’m deciding to sit on the ground and I’m annoyed because it’s cold. Then I notice there’s a guy asking me if I’m okay. Yeah why? And he told me they found me on the ground and “my eye”. I didn’t feel anything but when I touched my face it was numb and I got blood all over my hand. Turns out I had a broken eye socket which can break the nerve and that side of your face will go numb. Meanwhile I looked around and realized I’m much further away from the crowd than I was before. Actually I’m close to my car. I don’t feel post ictal but something ain’t right. (Thinking pretty clearly actually for having been unconscious with a broken eye socket!) So I look in my cars mirror and it’s bad. Had to go to the hospital and got 11 stitches. Face was numb for months. But as the ambulance is taking me away some guy starts yelling that I broke his mirror on his car. I wasn’t sitting near his car and the guy who helped me up didn’t know what he was talking about either. But the ambulance gave him my phone number. Found out later that he had a broken mirror on his car that was supposedly nearby in the parking lot but it wasn’t near me as far as I remember. And I remember exactly where I was in relation to my car. His wasn’t parked in front of mine. It wasn’t there when I got back from the hospital either.
Later on he admitted there was no blood on the mirror and he didn’t see me there either but he said there was blood on the ground. I don’t think I was there long enough for blood to pool on the ground but I dunno. Based on the texts and police report etc, this all took place in like 3-5 minutes. From me texting family to the ambulance being called on site. So I walked across a big parking lot, something happened, somebody saw me on the ground and walked across the parking lot too, woke me up and called 911.
So it’s a mystery. I made the mistake of mentioning I have epilepsy but that I didn’t feel like I had a seizure. I was brainstorming what could have happened. Another indication I didn’t have a seizure. 🤣 normally after a seizure I’d probably have laid down on the ground and tried to sleep.
The police didn’t investigate because the witness said I said I had epilepsy (apparently that means a seizure happened to them). They wouldn’t go back and try to talk to other witnesses or anything. They would try to look at video footage though but there were no security cameras at the hotel except one on a conference center door. In that footage, he said someone that might be me walked in frame, stop, turn around and start to run off. (Supposedly it’s hard to tell bc it’s low quality video). But it was the right time frame and general location.
I’m just wondering what you all think. A very odd type of seizure? Or was it a mugging in a dark parking lot during a false fire alarm? (Btw there was no fire in the hotel. Someone pulled the alarm)
What I decided was someone was messing with that guys car and I saw them. They popped me in the eye. I collapsed straight down (I didn’t have any other injuries besides the eye. No bruises or scratches). Hotel tried to cover the incident up so I got nowhere further in my investigation.
But a possible but unlikely situation is a new type of seizure for me with no post ictal recovery period that made me fall forward hitting just my left eye socket on a cars mirror and broke it off without any other injury. With amnesia for a few minutes before the seizure took place and it was a very short seizure with a fast recovery.
What’s the consensus? It’s already been a year or two at this point so I don’t care but I figured I’d ask. If that is a feasible seizure situation I’d like to know. Stress and sleep are two of my triggers but I’ve never had a seizure like that before. Oh and there was no warning aura or anything that I remember. Thanks! It’s a good story right!? And if someone is considering a stay in Tigard, OR I don’t recommend Embassy Suites! 🤣

I, (24F) want to leave my boyfriend (26M) but I don’t know how to go about it. What can I do to get out of this mess?
I met my boyfriend H when we were 18 and 19 respectively. We met in highschool officially but never really interacted until after graduation. A mutual friend of mine dated H before but they had a really bad breakup, and when I started dating H, I lost several friends over that. Things were great for a few years minus the few common early adult relationship problems (who pays for what, etc) and lack of responses while gaming. That sort of thing. We moved in together two years ago in his parent’s home, of which we stayed in a basement room that had a door to the outside and paid rent and helped with groceries and that sort of thing. In January of 2023, his father passed away. Prior to this, he was a waiter at a BBQ place in our town. After his father passed away, he never returned from his bereavement leave and subsequently lost his job due to lack of contact with the boss. Since then, he has had maybe two jobs that lasted about two weeks before he would quit again. I have to get into huge fights with him before he will do anything around the apartment we now rent with our dog. He spends all his time on his Xbox and on Discord or sleeping. He doesn’t complement me, he doesn’t offer to help me with anything, and he refuses to leave the house to do anything with or for me. Yes, he has been in therapy since his father passed, but currently it’s doing nothing and any talk of switching therapists falls on deaf ears. We’re constantly fighting about housework, he’ll cry and talk about suicide, and then he’ll feel so bad about the fight he’ll do ONE chore before repeating the process. I’ve tried making him lists, I’ve tried reminding him several times while I’m at work, I’ve even tried setting timers and reminders on our Alexa. He just blatantly will not do anything. The straw that’s been breaking us lately is he stopped showering on a regular basis. He went over a month without showering and two weeks ago I got so fed up I shut off the internet so he couldn’t play Xbox to FINALLY convince him to shower. I thought driving him to his therapy appointments and things like that would help at the beginning and I do know he has some mental health concerns but good god, it’s not working.
About a month or two ago, a coworker of mine started texting me on WhatsApp, which he found me in a work group chat I’m in (I work fast food, not naming names, but it rhymes with Starby’s) and we hit it off. Previously, I would open with him (I’ll call him T) and we would just crack jokes and goof around (while doing our jobs, of course). In the work group chat I had said “Ughh, my face is breaking out. I don’t want to be at window, they’ll drive away from my ugly ass.” And he sent me a text telling me I’m not ugly, I said how, and he told me I’m not too overweight, I’m not too skinny, I have beautiful eyes, and a beautiful smile. After this, we started conversing back and forth but not crossing the risky or flirty territory. One morning during an opening shift, he told me he liked someone and I pressed because I’m nosy. And he eventually said it was me, but didn’t want to cross a line or do anything because I have a boyfriend. This isn’t why I started the breakup plan, but knowing that someone else saw something in me and I wouldn’t be alone 100% after gave me that push I needed. Though I will admit, he is wayyy out of my league and has a smile that makes me want to cry.
About three weeks ago I was hanging out with some friends and my boyfriend got mad, said he was going to text his ex, and I lost it and broke it off with him. Afterwards, he kept saying he was going to go meet his dad and stopped responding. I got a notification (life 360) that he left the apartment so I went over to grab some stuff and I found a note that said I can have all his stuff. I called non emergency and let them know of the situation because my boyfriend has bipolar (T1) and could injure himself. He wasn’t injured at all, which is what the hospital told me, and he refused any further treatment for psychiatric. I ended up going back because his mother started texting me saying my boyfriend ended up telling her that he was going to run away and not come back, and I was scared and worried. I’m an idiot, I know. He was crying and promised he’d do better and how he was going to fix it, but truthfully, I was just tired after dealing with that for 48 hours and wanted a shower and my bed. Now, I want to leave again but not have him pull all of that because I am so far mentally exhausted. I need advice. Help!
TL;DR My boyfriend doesn’t work or clean or shower and I want to kick him out and leave him but I don’t want him to harm himself.

I (f28) been dating someone (m43) that is going through some grieving. His ex girlfriend passed away recently. Everything seemed fine although communication was lacking the last couple of weeks, on our last conversation he committed to call daily on a face time call, as we are in a distance relationship. After the phone call he messaged me how much he loved me and thank me for being patient. Thats the last time I heard from him. I messaged, called, trippled message, begged to text me just that he is ok. Its been a week now. He is posting in his story in social media his best life. I am lost, any ideas on why would someone just banish?

I'm not sure what good writing this will do, but I feel like so few people in my life get what I'm going through, and goodness knows I'm not going to get any sleep tonight.
I'll try to make this as quickly as possible.
I'm a 42(m) and my wife is a 42 (f). We've been married for 19 years now and have a 18 year old son and an 11 year old daughter. Our typical gender roles are reversed, I'm the emotional and main caretaker, and she has a hard time sharing any kind of emotion.
I've always known this, and I know the childhood she has. Me being the opposite--I am always willing to talk about my emotions with my partner, because I feel it is the only way forward.
I did everything you are supposed to do. Complimented her, made her feel loved, did romantic things, cooked, cleaned, did the majority of all house and yard work and took care of our kids. Our sex life was really good, we worked well together, she just wasn't affectionate and can't share emotions.
Then in August 2023 I found out she had been having an affair since the end of June. The next 6 months of my life were Hell. I got mad, but then did what I do and tried to understand why. I forgave her, got counseling, and treated her better than she deserved. We were supposedly reconciling, but I didn't give her any real boundaries. I was too scared to. Then found out in September she was still seeing him. Supposedly left him Nov 17th to truly give our family a shot, January 28th found out she was still seeing him.
For the first time I was going to leave. She begged me to stay. She actually broke up with the dude, I made sure of it, and for the first time in a decade she made actual effort in our marriage.
It was like having the wife of my dreams. I fell more in love with her everyday. She was doing all the things I'd begged as far as affection and talking about stuff for years. We made future plans, went on dates--it was amazing.
We had a really small fight based on her infidelity near the end of April. Extremely minor stuff, and she went on a 48 hour shift and that Sunday sent me a text saying we are getting divorced.
Her emotions completely shut off. Dead faced as I sobbed, as the kids sob. None of her explanations make sense. Things have progressed very rapidly, a month later I'm in my own rent house, she has agreed to generous terms of alimony and 50/50 for my daughter (my son wants nothing to do with her). No matter what I say, she will not reverse course. Lawyers, therapists--they all think this is too quick. We will be divorced in around 45 days.
I'm pretty sure my wife is undiagnosed and unmedicated bipolar. She has these manic episodes where she will make huge changes in life to force herself to change or be happy and it never works.
I think that is what is happening here, but I can't seem to fix it or make her slow down at least long enough to try to get medicated.
Today she told me that she knows it is her, knows I'm a good husband and father, but can't seem to feel things anymore and doesn't think she can fix them with me.
The change was so sudden me and the kids have whiplash. One day we are loving on each other and making plans for the future, two days later we are supposed to be over? 19 years down the drain? None of this makes sense.
I'm struggling with the suddenness of it all. I don't know how to answer my kid's questions about why, and I'm shattered in a million pieces. I have every reason to let her go, but I can't seem to. I defend her when I shouldn't, do things for her when I shouldn't, and every day I just wait for the text saying she has made a mistake. But even living apart for a month, and the last week in my own place, it seems to affect her very little.
I keep waiting for her to wake up, that I can get through to her, but I also know I can't save this marriage alone.
I can't understand how she could walk away from me and the kids, I'd drag myself through Hell for us, in fact I did all those months of infidelity (I haven't even shared the worst bits).
It is really over isn't it? It is time to give up, isn't it?
How do I let go of her? How do I just give up fighting for the family I poured 19 years into, gave my absolute all?
This feels so hopeless.

Hi Reddit,
I can’t believe I’m writing this post, but this has been on my mind for the past few months and I really need some external input. I need help to figure out if I’m in a toxic relationship, if there’s something I can do to fix it, if I’m over sensitive, or is it time for me to end this?
Context: I ‘M26’ and my girlfriend ‘F25’ have been together for 2.5 years, and known each other for 8 years. We both live in the U.S. but I’m from Europe and she’s from Central America, met in college. Issues started 2 years ago but when things are good she’s amazing (funny/beautiful/caring/makes me feel unconditionally loved/etc) and I always thought the issues were friction we could iron out together. With time I have grown increasingly skeptical of that. This is my first relationship (longer than 3 months) so at the same time I’m worried that maybe I am overly skeptical, that I only see my perspective and fail to see hers. I want to be fair to her, because I love her and care deeply for her as a person, I am just starting to resent the relationship.
History of issues: To me the issues are all centered in my girlfriends anxiety. Frequently, rather than being vulnerable, she projects her anxiety on me and accusing me of all kinds of things. I have both tried to shake off those moments, to recognize that this isn’t her but her anxiety talking, but it still affects me deeply. Not only when it occurs, but when I am doing something and she seems fine I still worry that maybe I will do something wrong and she will snap and this moment will turn to a life or death situation. I have also obviously communicated my concern over this behavior repeatedly, and every time after she takes things too far she apologizes and takes ownership and we come up with a strategy to avoid the issue from repeating. This all sounds very healthy, I think, but the problem is that we’ve had these issues and conversations 25+ times and here we still are. Some things have gotten better for sure but it still feels unbearable to me. Let me provide three examples to illustrate our issues (from my perspective).
Example 1 - 1.5 years ago My best friend and I were victims of attempted robbery from people affiliated with organized crime, the event went to court, and after the trial we wanted to get away from everything. My girlfriend and I had planned to go to a Caribbean island shortly after, so I invited my friend to come a week before my girlfriend and leave the day she arrived. We were both pretty shaken up and just wanted to talk things out and enjoy a tropical paradise. The first night my friend and I arrive (girlfriend still in the US) she starts texting fervently that my friend and I shouldn’t see any of the sights so she and I can see them together for the first time. I get where she’s coming from but this is also a challenging time for me and my best friend so I am not willing to completely sacrifice his week with me to appease my girlfriend. Things escalate and she demands my attention all the time. When my friend and I is out she is calling me 50+ times in a row, texting me that if I love her I would respond and that I am ruing hers and mine vacation and though I’m trying to deescalate I don’t see how to. I end up turning off my phone, although she begs me not to, but I’m still in my head unable to enjoy the night. When I turn my phone back on next day there’s a picture of herself with a cut (very shallow but still) saying I made her do this. This event is the low point of our relationship, and I told her if she ever hurts herself or threatens to hurt herself I’m out, and to be fair to her she has not once since hurt herself. Nonetheless, the calls continue after this (50+ a day) and I spent 3-4h a day on the phone with her and neglecting the trip with my best friend. Damn writing this out really makes me ashamed for not standing my ground back then. Anyways, this really colored the trip with my childhood friend and I think I still resent myself and her for making that happen.
Example 2 - 0.5 years ago I visited a close childhood friend in South America for 2.5 weeks. Because of the events that transpired in example 1, my girlfriend was nervous for my trip. She expressed worry that she would act out in the same way as my last trip. I really appreciated this self-awareness. We therefore talked extensively about how to avoid issues. The first few days were alright, with her being anxious but being vulnerable about it and we managed well, calling once a day and texting 15-20 messages a day (more than I’d want, but that’s a compromise I’m okay with). At this point I make a mistake, but her reactions to it is (in my head at least) not proportional. I told her I was going out with my friend and his friend that weekend, and she expressed that this would make her anxious that I would cheat on her. So I asked what can I do, and we decided I’d send her a text once I left the pre-game, once I left the club, and call her once I got back to my friends place. A little bit much I thought, but I love her so a fair compromise for now. Unfortunately, I got caught up in the moment at the pre-game, and forgot to text my girlfriend. I realized as I was walking home from the club with 25+ missed calls and a bunch of emotional messages about how I forgot because I was around beautiful women and how I don’t love her. Here I understand her pain. She was vulnerable, I agreed to a compromise and I didn’t fulfill my end. 25+ calls is never productive but hey I had some blame here. The following day I call her for 1.5 hours apologizing and we talk things out, and it feels like though she is feeling anxious that she accepts my apology and we have now managed to resolve my mistake. The same night my friend and his friends are going to someone else’s house for a BBQ (which I told my girlfriend about days before). An hour before we are about to leave my girlfriend starts telling me to talk to her on the phone, because I hurt her so bad and when I say I can’t because we are 10 people having a beer before we head out she says she doesn’t care and that I hurt her and now she “wants to make my life miserable”. I tell her “hey I understand you’re upset but I never want to hear those words from the person I love. I know I hurt you but never intentionally”. She says she doesn’t care and keeps calling me non-stop for 40 minutes and I’m worried that if I don’t pick up she will start to call my friend. I try to deescalate and beg her to take a step back and that she is pushing me away by doing this. The whole thing culminates by me getting out of the Uber towards the barbecue and telling my friends that I think my girlfriend and I are breaking up and I need to deal with it. I am crying as I say this and feel so damn embarrassed. Even writing it now I can’t believe this actually happened. Damn. Anyways, as soon as I tell her that I am no longer going to the bbq and I left my friends car she becomes a different person (the person I love) and tells me she is so sorry and realize she took it too far and begs me to order an Uber to the BBQ. She says she’ll pay for it and begs me to go. At that point I’m just so embarrassed at the whole thing and tell her something along the lines of “why the fuck did you push me this far then. I told you you are pushing me away”. I head home, and wonder how someone who loves me so much can intentionally cause me so much harm and I seriously begin to doubt if her and I will ever work. I tell her I don’t think I want to be in the relationship, but that I recognize I’m emotional so I need 7 days without contact to process my thoughts. I won’t block her, but if she reaches out I will. She does reach out (albeit with a nice message) but I still block her.
I probably should have left the relationship here, but damn I love her, we live together, and at this point she was depending on me for her visa to stay in the country. I don’t want to rip all that apart from her. So I say I don’t know if we’ll ever feel okay, but I’m willing to give this one last chance.
To her defense, she take a lot of new steps at this point. She tells her mom and sister everything that happened (including her trust issues and jealousy), she starts with anxiety medication and starts being more vulnerable with her therapist. I am still skeptical that things will actually be okay, but I recognize the effort she puts in and I really appreciate it. The frequency of our arguments decrease, and more disputes now end before they become arguments.
Example 3 - Yesterday My GF flew to Vegas with three of her girlfriends (I know two of them very well) and I know it’s a high risk trip for someone in a relationship but I honestly have complete trust in my GF. I decided to do a dinner with 3 of my friends (who my GF knows equally well, we’re all in a group chat together and do things regularly together) and they invited a 4th person who was part of our sports team (my girlfriend met her 2-3 times, just like me).
She texts me from Vegas asking who’s coming to the dinner and once she finds out this 4th person is coming she asks nicely if we cannot be in someone else’s apartment. When I say hey I’m sorry but I already said we could be at my place she asks at least don’t smoke weed together (my friends are stoners so 100% chance they’ll bring weed), and I say “I’m sorry but I won’t tell them not to and I’ll join In too if they bring it but you have nothing to worry about. I love you and I’ll call you as soon as they leave?” My girlfriend then goes into panic mode and calls me nonstop throughout dinner. I go to the bathroom and begs her to stop, tells her she is ruining this for me, and ask her to trust me. She still calls nonstop until they leave. I try to keep a brave face but again it really ruins the dinner for me.
At this point I have told her how actions like these makes me feel uneasy and prevents me from enjoying life. I told her I need her to trust me. I told her that I won’t have it anymore. And if anything the idea that she doesn’t trust me around 3 people she knows well with a 4th stranger while she’s at a pool party in bikini in Vegas just seems so hypocritical it makes me ever more frustrated.
In her defense: - Her dad cheated multiple times while she was growing up. I understand this makes it excruciatingly difficult to trust a partner. - She started seeing a therapist ~8 months ago. - She now takes medication for her anxiety. - She now has told her mom and sister about her trust issues for the first time in her life. - She began attending codependency meetings regularly. - She says she doesn’t want me to limit my life just for me to communicate better what I’m doing (I think it’s really possible that I’m bad at communicating, because to me this request feels like it comes from a lack of trust).
She is putting in immense effort, but I just feel like I can’t do this anymore. Even when things are good I’m worried that she’s going to explode and that prevents me from enjoying the good times too. I love her and she’s amazing in many ways, but I don’t like feeling responsible for her suffering. I know that by trying to end things she’s going to suffer so much and she’ll beg me to give her another chance. I don’t want to but in those moments I feel like she’s the rational version of herself and that maybe she’ll never explode again. Can I solve my relationship with her? Is it time to leave? Is it fair to leave when she is putting in so much effort? How do I find the courage to go through with it?
Thanks so much in advance, and I’m sorry for such a lengthy post.
TL;DR I think my relationship is toxic and I don’t know if it is fixable, or if it’s time for me to end it? Is it fair to end it when my partner is putting so much effort into the relationship?

From my Common Dreams article, "How Nations Can End Israel’s Genocide in Gaza" is the excerpt below on the partnership of US tech giants with Israel, which signed cloud computing contracts with Google and Amazon. For those who want to end Israel's genocide in Gaza and occupation of Palestine, the question looms, "How do we divorce ourselves, our institutions-universities, school districts, local governments--from these tech giants that are now suspected of providing AI-assisted targeted killings of thousands of civilians in Gaza?" Please post your thoughts on launching strategic boycotts against these tech giants.
https://www.commondreams.org/opinion/nations-end-israel-s-genocide
"Internal dissent rocks Google in the United States, where employees waving Palestinian flags shut down Market Street (12/14/23) in San Francisco to protest Google’s Project Nimbus, a $1.2 billion contract with the Israeli military for cloud computing engineered by Google and Amazon. Months earlier, before October 7, hundreds of Amazon and Google tech workers protested the contract in four cities across the country with signs reading, “No Tech for Apartheid.” In an open letter,anonymous employees in 2021 charged that the Nimbus contract greenlights “unlawful data collection on Palestinians, and facilitates expansion of Israel’s illegal settlements on Palestinian land.”
Multinational corporations like Microsoft, Google, IBM, and Intel all have offices in Israel. Google’s 8,000 square mile campus in Tel Aviv occupies eight floors of Electra Tower, with one floor reserved for Google’s “Campus Tel Aviv,” a hub for entrepreneurs and start-up companies. Hewlett-Packard—a target of the global BDS movement—profits off the Israeli occupation with biometric identification, hand and facial recognition, used at checkpoints throughout the West Bank, where excruciating wait times can take Palestinians all day to reach family in a village 30 miles away."
And then there's this ...
https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2024/4/23/what-is-project-nimbus-and-why-are-google-workers-protesting-israel-deal
"Known as Project Nimbus, the joint contract between Google and Amazon signed in 2021 aims to provide cloud computing infrastructure, artificial intelligence (AI) and other technology services to the Israeli government and its military, which has faced condemnation for its war on Gaza, described by United Nations experts and several countries as a “genocide”.
Some might suggest the university encampments, once the term ends, establish encampments in front of Amazon warehouses and operations until Amazon agrees to terminate its contract with Israel. Others might press on the divestment front, where Amazon and Microsoft are at the top of the list for the S & P 500. Your thoughts?

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

Currently, Ghost of Tsushima Director’s Cut is facing several problems, from black or white login screens to audio issues. Players are having a tough time trying to sort through all the errors that they come across. While trying to start the game, some players receive a pop up with the error code 0x887A002B: UNKNOWN. The error text states that “A problem has occurred with your display driver. This can be caused by out of date drivers, using game settings higher than your GPU can handle, an overheating GPU, or an error with the game.” In this guide we will see how to fix the display driver error in Ghost of Tsushima
Click here to read more

My (29F) husband (33M) and I have been together for 7 years. I’ll be honest and say that our ability to communicate when we’re upset hasn’t been the greatest. Usually when one of us is angry or upset it results in us yelling a bit, walking away and then once we’ve cooled off we’ll resolve the issue.
Recently my husband decided to change careers and has been out of work for 3 months. This week he’s doing a certificate that is quite intensive and is a requirement for a job he is interviewing for (and will be needed for most jobs in the career he’s hoping to change to).
Tomorrow is his only day off during the days he’s completing the certificate. We were both excited to hang out and spend time with each other tonight and were having a good time just hanging out and talking.
What felt like out of the blue my husband started accusing me of being annoyed with him. I wasn’t doing anything different from what I could tell. I was just on my phone while he was letting the dogs out, and put my phone down when he walked back over to me. I told him I was fine and we started discussing what we were going to do as he wanted to play a card game but I wanted to do something else.
As we were discussing this, he again accused me of being annoyed. I wasn’t annoyed in the slightest, and told him that. I asked what I was doing wrong and he said I had “a grumpy look on my face and was clearly annoyed”.
I honestly didn’t know what he was talking about. I was maybe a bit tired compared to earlier, and I think we were on separate pages as to what we were up for, but I was doing exactly what I was doing earlier as far as talking to him and hanging out, although at this point I was annoyed by him now continuously accusing me of being annoyed.
I told him that it’s a double standard that he can be a bit tired or be on his phone, but if I do it then I’m accused of being mad. From there the conversation escalated back and forth to the point where he was yelling and slammed the refrigerator door causing magnets go flying. Somewhat in shock at his level of anger I told him to F off and walked away. He called me a bitch (not at all typical for our relationship or fights) and I went red and threw a semi empty soda can at him (not something I have EVER done before), at which point he threw hot sauce that was one the counter at me. In the heat of this I threw my wedding rings at him and said we were done. We yelled more. We said really awful things- I’ll be honest and say I said worse things. And he left.
I feel so completely awful. I’m absolutely ashamed of my behavior and how toxic this stupid fight became. We’ve had a couple screaming matches, but never ever anything like this. I know that how I acted wasn’t okay. I grew up around adults who acted like this when they were mad and have worked hard to take be responsible for my actions and not be like them. I don’t know how we got to this point over such a stupid reason to fight in the first place. I don’t know what to do. He won’t answer my calls or texts. I feel like I just imploded my marriage.

I’m posting this in hopes it helps me some… My Mom passed away July 16, 2020. She passed away from complications due to Covid/Diabetes. She had just turned 48. I was 24 and my younger sister 17. None of us could be with her in the hospital due to the Covid restrictions. Just an occasional FaceTime call when she was feeling okay, or some texts. Towards the end she needed extra help breathing and ended up being put into this coma like state to try to help her body heal. She fought hard for 2 weeks, but ultimately she never came back home.
I miss her so much. My dad and I never had the best relationship growing up, and it hurts to say it hasn’t really changed since she passed, either. I think of her still every single day. If she would be proud of me, the life me and my fiancé have, or my little sister who is engaged and has a 5 month old now. She won’t be there for when we get married, have kids (her dream was to be a Grandma), just so many life events without her. I miss the simple things the most- just calling her on a hard day. I still have her number saved in my phone because I just can’t bring myself to delete it.
Sorry for the long rant, I’ve just been struggling since her birthday back in April, and now the closer it gets to her death date. Thank you for the vent session, and I wish I could give a hug to everyone struggling.🤍

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I had a girl break my heart, admit to using me for sex and money and rubbed it in my face through texts, facetiously thanking me for the gifts I brought her, along with throwing my sexual assault in my face. I exposed the fuck out of her messages and i felt so much better. I had older adults in my ear saying I was childish and it was uncalled for uploading the messages but I don’t care i feel better for the first time I feel like I did something about the verbal abuse and manipulation I’ve been experiencing for months. A part of me feels sad I stooped to her level of childishness but a part of me feels better about the situation. Taking the high road just didn’t feel right after all the shit I experienced.

Hey guys and dolls et Al.
My whole life, I’ve read body language consciously like you can see your dog is guilty or elated. I was deaf a lot as a kid from food allergies. ( don’t ask it’s boring). Maybe that got it going.
I’m hyper sensitive. Like, off the charts. Except for room for growth in skills.
I extremely gifted in almost every way they deign to count gifts. Top of each class. (Average at math because boring). But I can’t remember technical stuff so it’s not obvious to everyone I’m smart. (As a chick it’s often not an advantage to announce it).
I can tell when people are about to quit jobs, when they’re lying, when they’re Manipulating and so on. I thought more people could do this but now I’m beginning to wonder. (I verify my suspicions about every once and a while to see if I’m right or if it’s very unusual- I’m not always 100% right but close). Some things self verify like they don’t work there any more. If it’s super weird- like 1/ 3 years weird I confirm with others verbally or see their reactions.
Other things, like predicting weather and world events- I have no ability. So, since I try and fail, it seems my body language reading is not a delusion. I have no mental illness symptoms.
I have used this to avert a few issues and make people feel good about themselves, work, and trying stuff. I use control + this ability to work crowds/individuals to get my goals (ethically). I don’t show a lot of micro muscle tells because I’m well versed on them from others. I do a bit though.
Ok, “cool” bragging nerd, I hear ya.
Issue is, I have mental health issues and I think someone like me triggered my Feedback Loop TM which feeds my mind details about the day for analysis and reflection. He did this by being very unsneaky but trying to sneak. (I didn’t see his face, I just recognized the sneak). He did the same thing when I worked for him, I saw it in real time and was puzzled (I was also dissociating hard from trauma I got two weeks prior, but I thought I was just feeling great because the people were overwhelmingly fun). I asked him and he didn’t say anything so I thought I imagined it. He’s nice so he didn’t say I’m crazy.
He didn’t really do anything wrong, it was destabilizing because my grandparents abused me psychologically because I was competition- like every one in the family was to them. It was hurtful to see at six that they would try to manipulate me like that. (Think captain Picard being tortured by cardassians and told to lie about the lights he sees.)
I think people with my talent can trigger me. I didn’t know that was what happens. Maybe I’m just a hypocrite.
Anyway, feel free to tell me I’m crazy. (Yes I’m on meds and they’re working and I have a counselor. I just don’t have any symptoms except the Feeback Loop TM is stuck on). I’m not telling Drs because nothing I say is credible with a diagnosis.
Edit: FBL is on because I can’t determine (if there was a sneak) the scope of work, so it’s on indefinitely Edit2: if it makes a difference, I did martial arts my whole life off and on and dance and it was easy as pie

I have commented here a few times but never posted. It's long so i get if you dont want to read. I just have some feelings to let out! I've been with my(27f) SO(29m) for 4 years. He has a son(12) whom I met when he was 8. I am child free and have no interest in being a mother myself. However, I felt being a stepmom/cool aunt would be fine bc I don't have that big of an issue with kids and my SO only has SK EOWE (he now keeps SK 3 weekends a month bc SO's mother can't not stick her nose where it isn't wanted) I made the mistake of trying to be too helpful at the beginning of our relationship bc I am a people pleaser who didn't know better and wound up being main caregiver every weekend SK was here due to SO's excuse of having to work. For a little while it was fine bc SO had started a new, very fruitful and life changing job and I wanted to help him succeed and i was under the impression after a while he wouldnt be expected to work them as much. I picked up SK from BM's house after my own long day/week at work every weekend my SO had custody, I would pick up food for SK, even paid for groceries for SK when SO failed to get any for the weekend, cleaned up messes and was the only ear around for SK to yap into oblivion. HUGE MISTAKE!!! After a while (like 2.5 years) of this going on, no thanks or appreciation and then getting criticism from SO's father for literally parenting SK when no one else was, I threw my hat down and said I'm done taking care of SK for SO and would step back. Last year I had started to slowly nacho and do less and less as my resentment towards both SK and SO grew larger. At this point in time, SO was CHOOSING to work these weekends instead of being required to; and choosing to pick up extra OT (an extra 8 hours on top of the 16 he is working that weekend) on some of these weekends while taking off on weekends we didnt have SK. This grinded my gears and I had a discussion with SO about how unfair it is to expect me to be completely responsible for SK when I am not his parent. That resulted in SO's mother taking SK for one weekend a month and SO apologizing and saying he won't do that anymore. Now, maybe I should have been more clear, but SO took this to mean that he could work these weekends, but no OT. That is not what I meant. I meant for SO to not work when he has SK. It came to a big head when just 2 weeks after we had our initial discussion, SO texts me from work telling me he not only had signed up for the weekend, but asked for an additional 12 HOURS that weekend since it would be extra pay for working on a holiday without talking to me on a SO custody weekend. He had the audacity to tell me "dont be mad." I lost it. I told him that this behavior was disrespectful to me and a huge slap in the face given the conversation we practically just had a fortnight ago. He apologized, said he won't do it again but it wasnt good enough for me until i saw real, consistent change. I told SO he needs to get his mother to watch SK that weekend because I will not be doing it. He tried but SO's mom was out of town. I was pissed and told him if it happened again there would be a serious change in our relationship, either I move out or we split and that he will be making up for this for a long time. Things were fine for a little over a month. SO was taking off weekends he had SK like I asked and had someone watch SK if SO wanted to work. All is good. Then this weekend came. SO signed up this weekend despite SK coming over and didn't communicate with me. I was mad but kept quiet, when I shouldn't have. Today we were talking and deciding whether to go workout today since if we did we would have to rush around before SO had to leave for work. SO said something along the lines of: SO: "what do you want, then?" Me: "for you to not go to work tonight." SO: "So we can go to the gym?" Me: "Yea....among other things.." I think he knew what I meant. I could tell his tone got defensive. I know that was passive aggressive of me but tbh we had been having some rough times lately and I was so tired of being frustrated with him so it just kinda came out. I told him the same things I had been saying: not my kid so why am I expected to take care of him? I don't mind helping but I am not SK's mother or father, he has those. This did not bode well in SO's brain because even though I stayed level headed to express myself, he immediately jumped on the defensive, got loud and told me that since I am at home that it "shouldn't be too much to expect me to watch his kid." And just no. Absolutely not. I DID NOT PUSH THIS KID OUT OF ME OR BUST A NUT IN THE WRONG PLACE!! I put my foot down and I told him straight up I did not get into this relationship to be anybody's mother and if that is what he expected of me then we will not work. After A LOT of getting him to calm down🙄🙄🙄 he began to understand what I was saying(Or at least put on a damn good show of it if not). I tried my best to make him feel that I do not hate or really even dislike his son or wish him to be gone(I prefer Sk not be here but it is what it is and I try not to have SK feel that way bc it's not his fault) but I am very resentful of the amount of work I have put in and am expected to do for a child I did not have and isnt my responsibility. I also sited his lack of communicating efficiently with me about his work schedule. I said I know I get visibly irritated when SK comes over and SO decided to ask "well if I do this will your attitude towards SK change?" Which like...what bad faith question honestly. I told him "yea, most likely, with time and consistency from you." Overall, we are doing well as of right now and I feel like things are slowly changing, which is good. Not exactly how I wanted but that's reality, ya know? I love SO very much. He is an amazing partner and is the only place I have felt safe in my life. His child is just a really tender spot for us as SO does not want to be a father but feels stuck. I understand that but we have to wake up to our reality and not just push responsibilities off onto others. I hope things will continue to get better from here but I also wouldn't be surprised if this is what eventually breaks us up if we spilt ever. Apologies for the length. I've had a lot of feelings for a while and don't have anywhere to let it out but this subreddit has really helped me understand my own feelings and feel less like I'm the bad guy for how I feel.

Feeling a bit like I’m navigating the Wild West of dating here in Manchester. My profile is set to "long-term relationship," but I (23F) keep matching with guys who think "long-term" means lasting through the weekend or just want to send me the kind of texts, right off the bat, that would make a sailor blush.
I’ve put effort into my profile with a blend of wit and charm, swiping right only on guys with the same long-term intentions. But somehow, I still end up with the hookup hopefuls. Do I have a secret "just here for fun" vibe I’m unaware of? I've got a bit of a resting bitch face and I’m studying fashion, which might be giving off the wrong vibe, like I’ve been told by a lot of people that I look a bit intimidating? Is it me am I the problem?
I miss the days of banter and meaningful conversations. Case in point: there was this one guy I had a fun conversation with for a week. I saw mild potential until he ended up drunk texting me the other night and sent unsolicited nudes. Like, thanks for the anatomy lesson, but no thanks!
Anyone else in Manchester feeling my pain? Tips for weeding out the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'ams and finding the good ones? Help a girl out—I just want a fun-loving guy who can hold a conversation without dropping his pants.