I was howlin with the wolves. Midnight sky sing praises to the Moon. It is dawn so let the Sun rise, force of Christ give life to our eyes. We receive your peace and your light, return to the father, yea nuncio Wolf of the Sun, Benjamin the father he returned, priesthood of divine law and inner spitit Father into thy hands I commend my Spirit.Ruah Sapientia Raphael, still small sound cast a spell, 7 sounds up the ladders of the rung the mystic sounds hear your inner god in seven manners.
trumpet blast thunder cloud a sound of Abraxas, physical nightingale chant a song. Father forgive them for they know not what they do!

I've been dealing with prolonged, trauma-induced psychosis now for about 3 years. I have mostly outer-voices, some inner-voices, intrusive thoughts and thought broadcasting. I cope with reusable earplugs. I'm pretty darn functional now, all considering. I'll get a bad day or days here or there, where I just lay down, repeatedly tell myself nobody can hear my thoughts and (hopefully) pass out for a few hours.
I've been toying with the idea of getting back into the workforce, as I'm on a notoriously paltry disability rate now and have gone into collections. I really want to work so that I can pay the fee for bankruptcy and start over again. I feel like I could do it if I had an anti-psychotic that I could use, as needed, on bad days, but wouldn't knock me out. Idk, does something like that even exist?
[I have Olanzapine on hand but a 10mg dose will knock me out for a few hours, which would be unacceptable at a job. A 5mg dose does nothing. And a 15-20mg dose will knock me out cold for an afternoon.]
lols it's dawning on me now, I could try 7.5mg for an as needed dose...

My son had his NG tube removed. He is about two and a half months old, and had the tube for about, well, two months post surgery. By the time the doctors advised us to work his feeds up 100 milliliters (about 3.3 oz) every three hours. Which he was taking very well, little to no upset tummy.
I HOPED that after removing the tub, he would be able to take a similar amount direct breastfeeding. Unfortunately he is taking may be a few mills at a time. Latches for less than 10 minutes and either falls asleep or is just done. Then he wants more about 10 minutes later.
If he has been a snacker like this from the beginning, I suppose I would have figured it out, or at the very least, my supply would have grown with his intermittent demand. But I have been pumping for over two months so his inconsistent feeding is not only hurting my boobs, it's making it difficult to consistently latch (cause I'll try latching, he'll finish without emptying my boob, then I will pump so I'm not in pain/avoid blocked ducts, then he'll be ready for more right after I'm done pumping, and then I need to give it by bottle).
Also, he seems to take anywhere from 40-60 mils by bottle. So he clearly likes my breast milk.
So what gives?
Is he just not hungry enough between feeds so he barely latches at the breast? Should I get a slower flow bottle nipple so it's "more like" my boob and he'll prefer mine more?
Bottom line- how do I get my son to feed more from my boobs/empty them following his NG tube being removed?

Back in 2016, I was working at a roadside diner west of St. Cloud, Minnesota. Neat little place, had a bit of a 60’s vibe to it, but without the hairdo. On the slow hours of the day, or whenever we just had locals around, I’d be humming along with the chefs playing radio out of the kitchen. It wasn’t an exciting time, but it was nice to have a workplace that felt like a second home.
A couple of weekends a month, we had an all-night crew to serve passing truckers. You usually never had to do more than one shift though, and we got to make own schedules. Our boss was pretty hands-off. It was during one of those shifts, at the first week of early summer, that my life took a turn for the worse – and I didn’t even realize it.

We were used to having the occasional odd customer during those hours of the day. When this guy walked in, I didn’t know what to think. He was about 6’2, bald, and pale as chalk. He wore this worn-out t-shirt that looked like it’d been on fire. With every step, he dragged his feet, and collapsed in one of our booths, seemingly exhausted.
I looked back at the chef, and he just shrugged. Guy wasn’t hurting anyone, but he didn’t look like he was all there. But a job’s a job, so I went up to him.
“You alright there?” I asked.
He looked up at me like I was speaking a foreign language, then sunk his head back down, gently shaking it.
“Nah,” he said. “I, uh… I don’t think I am.”
He had this voice on the knife’s edge between a hysterical laugh and a howling cry. He was trembling.
“You need me to call someone?”
“Call?”
“Yeah, call someone.”
“How?”

I didn’t understand the question. I figured he was coming down from some kind of binge, and I wasn’t about to take any chances. I asked the chef to get me a side of bacon to keep the guy calm while I called the police.
As I slid the plate over to him, he sunk his face into his hands, sobbing.
“T-thank you,” he cried. “I-I’m… please…”
I sat down across from him, instinctively reaching out to grab his hand. He let me. Even at a light touch, I could feel the scars on his palm and fingertips. Whatever’d happened to him, it must’ve been awful.
“I can’t go back,” he sniffled. “Don’t make me go back. I can’t. Please, I can’t.”
“You’re not going anywhere. It’s okay,” I smiled. “You’re safe here.”
“Can you help me?” he asked. “Can you keep him out?”
“I’m sure we can figure it out,” I nodded. “Just eat up. It’s okay.”

His fingers trembled as he tentatively bit off a piece of bacon. His teeth were black, and he flinched.
“I need time,” he said. “I need time to run.”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “We’ve called for help.”
“I just… I just need time.”
We just sat there for a while. He calmed his breathing but kept staring out the window. I could tell he was looking for something – or someone. All I could see was a road and a handful of moths. We sat there for some time, in silence, as he carefully nibbled on the slices of maple bacon.
As two police officers entered the diner, he got up from his seat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of scrunched-up trash. A couple of singles, a plastic card, dirt, and something resembling animal bones. He tried to straighten out the bills, pushing them into my hands along with the laminated card.
“Just… I need time. I’ll come back. Please.”
I didn’t understand. I just nodded and accepted it. Seconds later, the officers asked him to step outside and explain the situation. I got busy taking orders from a couple of passing truckers, watching glimpses of the scene through the window. A couple of minutes later, the strange man was taken away.

My shift ended at sunrise. I dragged myself to my car with a yawn, shuffling around my pockets for the keys. I hadn’t thought much about the items he’d handed me, but I took a closer look. I’d thrown away the animal bones and dirt, but there were a couple of dollar bills and that laminated card left. I checked the card first.
It looked like some kind of bookmark. On one side it was completely white, and on the other side there were dried blue flower petals arranged in a spiral. Kinda reminded me of a sunflower. And finally, there were the dollar bills.
I didn’t pay much attention to these at first. Just a couple of singles. But after a closer look, I noticed something unusual. There was a man on the bill that I didn’t recognize. It took me a couple of google searches to realize that this man was Walter Mondale – the man who’d lost to Ronald Reagan’s second run for president back in ’84. Why was this man on a one-dollar bill?

Before heading to bed, I put the items down on my nightstand. In a moment of silent wonder, I looked out the window. What had that man been looking for? What’d he been running from?
There was nothing out there.
Just a couple of moths.

Waking up the next morning, I had a full day off. I spent it cleaning my apartment, watching movies, having dinner with a couple of friends, and ending the night with a couple of drinks at the pub down on the corner. No binge or anything, just got a bit boozy. I was still gonna be in bed by midnight.
I took the scenic route home; a long walk. All the way down main street, past the lake. I took a shortcut through the park by the final stretch, speeding up a bit. That place was trouble.
As I hurried by the fountain, I spotted someone in the distance. A shrouded figure at the edge of the streetlights. I stopped to observe for a second, but as I did, the lights flickered. Coming back on, the figure was gone.
I chalked it up to imagination. I was a bit drunk, after all. Besides – it was small, like a child. What the hell would a kid be doing out at this hour?

A couple of days passed. I didn’t notice anything unusual, but I kept coming back to that distressing feeling of missing something important. Looking back at it now, I just feel dumb. He was there all along. Outside the supermarket. In the parking lot. Off the highway. Hell, he was outside my window at night sometimes, but just too short for me to spot.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
It wasn’t until one morning when I was driving to work that I got a clear view of him. I was crossing a four-way street, taking a sharp left turn, when I had to throw myself on the breaks. There was a kid in the middle of the street.
I hadn’t seen him that clearly before. He was probably around 6, maybe 7 years old. Wearing a plain black shirt and a pair of light blue canvas pants. Short black hair, dark eyes, and no shoes. That particular detail stuck with me. No shoes? Why?
I almost lost control, but I was lucky. There wasn’t much traffic, and I managed to stop further down the road. There were black lines in the pavement from my screeching tires swerving back and forth. Regaining my composure, I looked in the rear-view mirror.
The kid was gone.

But that was just the start.
I’d spot him every now and then. Looking out the window at work. At the gas station. A passing face in the crowd when shopping for groceries. Every now and then, something would pull on my attention, forcing me to whip my head around, looking for the source of that ill feeling crawling up my spine. Sometimes I saw him. And even worse – sometimes I didn’t.
I remember lying awake at night, hearing moths tap against my window. There was nothing else. Nothing outside. I patrolled my apartment six times, checking every window. I’d looked everywhere, and there was no reason for me to feel the way I did. I was growing paranoid.
And yet, in the morning, my front door was unlocked, and slightly open.

It all came to a head one afternoon when I was out on my smoke break. I’d barely slept for the past three nights, and you could kinda tell I was having a bad day. As I stood there, leaning against the side door of the diner, I see the kid again. This time just across the road, maybe 50 feet or so away. I’d had enough. This had to end.
I was furious. I stormed forward, calling him out with every slur and curse I could think of. I was psyching myself up. I was in the right, and I refused to be harassed anymore – kid or not. Didn’t matter. I crossed the road, barely dodging a speeding jeep, and met him face-to-face.
“What the hell do you want?!” I’d yell. “Why are you following me?!”
He was completely expressionless. He didn’t even flinch, no matter how much I pointed or screamed. I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, and he didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, like a porcelain doll head on a swivel.

I wasn’t thinking about the bystanders though. A couple of middle-aged men stepped up, asking in no kind terms what the hell was wrong with me. I was held back and restrained. Someone called the police. Someone else called my manager – I’d forgotten to take off my apron, so they could see the diner logo. A couple of people filmed it. One of the videos got like 120k views in a day before it fell off the map. I still see it as a react gif sometimes.
It was a disaster. After a couple of officers came by to talk to me, he’d just disappeared into thin air. The officers took me down to the station – not to detain me, but to get me away from the heated crowd. That car ride downtown sobered me up to what the hell was going on. I was being stalked by this kid, but there wasn’t a living soul out there that would believe me.
Well, maybe one.
Maybe.

I was asked a couple of questions and released within about half an hour. They told me to go home and sleep this whole thing off. That wouldn’t be a problem. I didn’t have a job to go back to anyway, according to the (many) texts I’d gotten. I had all the goddamn time in the world.
I was just about to leave when something came to mind. The two officers who’d picked me up were still waiting by their car when I turned back to them.
“Sorry, you picked up the guy I called in about at the diner, right?” I asked.
“Sure did.”
“You got any idea what happened to him?”
The two looked at one another for a moment, shrugged, and turned to me.
“Didn’t have any ID and gave a fake name. I think they took him to psych.”
“Psych?”
“Well, he was saying some, uh… strange things. There were interviews with a, uh…”
The two quieted down and flashed me a smile.
“There’s not that much we can say.”

Coming home, I decided to get to the root of this. It didn’t take me that long to find the place where the guy’d been taken; there aren’t a lot of mental health facilities in this part of the country. Especially facilities that accept involuntary subjects.
But my eyes kept drifting back to the strange dollar bills he’d given me, resting neatly on my nightstand. They were so detailed. A bit old, sure, but that only made them seem more genuine. What the hell was he doing with a handful of clearly fake dollar bills? Like, what’s the purpose? There had to be a purpose.
That unnerved me.

I managed to arrange a meeting. It wasn’t easy, and I think a lot of it boiled down to the police having no idea what could make this guy talk. For some reason, he kept providing them with false information. Maybe a familiar face, for one reason or another, might make him talk.
Just a couple of days later, I was putting my items in a metal bowl on the second floor at a mental health institute in the next town over. I asked one of the nurses if I could keep one of my dollar bills. Apparently, that was okay.
I was shuffled through a couple of locked doors and escorted to an off-white side-room. No décor, no locks. The guy was already there.

He’d been dressed down into these neutral eggshell-white garbs. It was strange seeing him in a lit-up room like this. I didn’t know what to expect.
Getting a closer look at him, he was probably in his 50’s. It’d been hard to tell earlier. I couldn’t get over just how pale he was; it was almost a complete lack of pigment. It looked sickly. His thin arms didn’t help – he looked malnourished. And yet, he was smiling.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello to you too,” I smiled. “You doing okay?”
“I’m… I’m pretty good,” he nodded. “Thank you.”
I sat down across from him and took out the dollar bill he’d given me.
“I wanted to ask you about this.”
“For the bacon,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, was that not enough?”
“No, it’s…”
I took a moment to compose myself. I had too many questions.

He sighed, took the bill, and looked it over. Looking back at me, I could tell there was something painful stirring in his mind. His smile slowly faded.
“Sorry,” he said. “I try to forget sometimes. It’s easier than making sense of it.”
“Let’s start with something simple,” I nodded. “Like… your name. Where you’re from.”
“Those things are pretty far from simple.”
He was looking straight through me; his eyes sinking back to deeper, more uncomfortable thoughts.

His name was Samuel, and he was born around these parts in back in the 1970’s. He’d worked as a telecommunications specialist out of St. Cloud back in the 90's. He had a wife, three children, and a four-bedroom house.
“But it… that was all before, see?” he explained. “Then it all just…”
“Just what?” I asked. “What happened?”
He looked at me, opening and closing his mouth, looking for the right words to come out. Nothing happened. He shook his head, trying again.
“It started with the street preachers,” he said. “Hundreds of them, marching on every city. All saying the same doomsday shit as always. World was dying. All coming to an end.”
“I haven’t seen anything like that.”
“Then there were storms,” he continued without skipping a beat. “Some would last for weeks. Others longer. Entire cities would be flooded or torn apart. Earthquakes causing monster waves along the east coast, sending shockwaves all the way to mainland Europe. Then, Yellowstone.”
“Yellowstone?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Lights out.”

Samuel was painting this apocalyptic vision of a world undone. Catastrophe after catastrophe. Hooded people marching the streets, screaming for the mercy of a mad god. But there was more to it.
“Then things stopped making sense. It’s as if the rules changed,” he continued. “Roads would stop leading home. Trees would change color. People turned twisted and corrupted. Like… one of our neighbors couldn’t eat anything but gunpowder. There was a woman just down the street who tried to kill anyone wearing glasses. It was… pandemonium.”
I didn’t say anything. What he was saying didn’t make any sense, but he was trying his best to keep his rambling coherent.
“The plants died. Trees too. The only thing that could grow in that environment were these twisted blue things that popped up out of nowhere. But people… people are what got twisted the most.”
He told me of these towering 7-foot-tall humanoid creatures that roamed the forests. Black as night – not even reflecting light. Arms reaching all the way to their knees. Elongated, inhuman things that all used to be someone he knew.

“The doomsayers all said the same thing,” he continued. “That God was a scared little boy, and that he was dying. Everything that was happening was just an expression of that ceaseless, bottomless, existential grief.”
Samuel looked back and forth, finally burying his face in his hands.
“It all broke down. Roads stopped leading anywhere. No power. No water. Julie changed. Ollie changed. Tobie made himself a mask and wandered off into the woods. Ira just… disappeared. And for… years? Has it been years? It’s just been me.”
“But you’re here, now,” I said. “And what you’re describing, it… it didn’t happen.”
“It happened,” he insisted. “Just not… here. But here.”
He tapped his finger on the single dollar bill.
“Somewhere, somehow, I must’ve taken a wrong turn. I slipped through something broken, and now I’m here. And… and he’s coming to bring me back. He doesn’t want anyone to leave.”
“Who?”
“Just! Just…” he chuckled. “Just a sad little boy who’s been told he’s going to die.”
I didn’t know what to say. I just sat with him for a while, holding his hand.

Before I left, Samuel got up from his chair. He looked at me, forcing himself to smile.
“If I go back, I’ll try not to… to be like them. I’ll try. And… and I’ll be the one to say something.”
He let out a painful little laugh, shaking his head.
“Maybe just a… hello.”

I left that day with more questions than answers. I couldn’t picture the world he’d lived through. Then again, how could it be true? None of it had happened. But what was he gaining from lying about it?
That was the last time I saw Samuel. A few days later, he went missing, as if he’d disappeared into thin air. I didn’t know what to think of it. There was nothing on the cameras – no one entering or leaving the building. No quick escapes, no clever plans. He’d just walked into his room and disappeared. Nothing left but a couple of moths fluttering about.
And for a while, that was it. That was the end of the story. I got busy looking for a new job, and all the little items given to me by Samuel was put away into a little box in my glove compartment. Life soldiered on, and no matter how many questions I had, there was no one around to answer them. Even the strange kid that’d been following me was, seemingly, gone.

A couple of months later, I was driving home from a friend’s place. I stopped at a four-way street, waiting for a couple of trucks to pass, when there was a knock on the passenger side window. I almost choked on my own spit. Scared me half to death.
Looking out, I could see that kid again. I hadn’t seen him for some time, and I quickly bounced between curiosity and downright anger.
“What do you want?” I yelled out.
There was no response. Instead, the door just opened. It’d been locked. As he opened the door, he pointed to the glove box.
“You want his things?” I asked. “Is that it?”
He nodded. I wanted to lash out, but there was something telling me I shouldn’t. Instead, I reached over, opened the glove compartment, and pointed to the box.
“Just take it and leave me alone,” I said. “Get it over with.”

He reached in and grabbed the box. So much effort for a couple of mementos. I turned my head back to face the road. The kid backed out. But of course, I had to get the last word in.
“Not even a thank you, huh?”
That made him pause. He looked at me, tilting his head. As he opened his mouth to speak, a moth fluttered out. Then another. And another.
Then – darkness.

What happened next is hard to describe. My memory of it is fragmented. It’s like trying to watch a buffering video, where long stretches of it are just nothing – but you know something was supposed to happen in-between.
Blink. I was sitting in my car. There was a dark blue sky. No clouds, no stars. Figures in the distance. An open field with blue flowers bending to a howling wind. A powerful stench of ammonia stinging my nostrils. Something to my immediate left, ripping the car door straight off the hinges.
Blink. Running. Ruins of a town. It seemed familiar, but there was barely anything left. My leg was bleeding. I was being followed. No matter where I turned, or where I ran, I seemed to end up at the same intersection.
Blink. A three-story building, brimming with life. Glimpses of arm-long antennae through the broken windows. Clickety-clack of bursting wings tapping against crumbling concrete. A loud warning shriek as something rubs its legs together; a call for prey.
Blink. Hiding in a tipped-over trash container. The rain has stopped in mid-air. Raindrops held in indefinite suspension. I suck water drops out of the air to quench my thirst. My hands are shaking from the blood loss.

Countless little images. Some in order, some not. I have no idea how much time passed. In the moment, it must’ve been much longer than I can remember. Days. Weeks, even. There’s no way to tell.
Blink. Walking through a barren field. It feels like walking through a dead forest, but there are no trees. Only those willingly impaled and wailing.
Blink. An abandoned booth by a broken highway. A sign offers phone calls, in exchange for “real teeth”. There are six sizes of pliers hanging on a wall within. All are bloodied – even the small ones.
Blink. The church that had burned down the night before had reappeared. The people inside, too. They couldn’t leave. Tonight, they would burn again.

Somewhere in this nightmarish puzzle-pieced fragment of nothing, there was a constant drive in me to get away. To get out. I knew that if I’d gotten there, I could get back home again. I just had no idea how. Maybe finding the kid. Asking. Begging. Something.
The last fragment of memory from that space was being cornered in a cellar. They were banging on the door. I’d tipped over a wardrobe to keep them out, but they weren’t going to stop. They were never going to stop. I couldn’t let them kill me again – not like that.
One of the Changed ones were coming. I don’t know what that means, or how I know the name, but I knew of it. There was a mirror, and I could see the signs. It stepped out. Seven feet tall, black as night. Elongated arms and neck. Barely a body at all – just a void space vaguely shaped like the remnants of a person.
Except this one felt… familiar. It was the first one to speak.
“H E L L O.”

Blink. Running. A cold hand. If I squeezed too hard, my fingers went straight through it. I had to keep up. He was showing me something.
Blink. They were flooding over the school bus, tipping it by their sheer numbers. Eruptions from the sewer grates. They were famished.
Blink. An open field. Sunflowers facing me, no matter where I turn. It’s not far.
Blink. I look back, as I’m pushed over the edge. He looks just like the rest of them. They aren’t angered by his betrayal.
They feel nothing, as I fall.

In February of 2017, I was found by the side of the road. I’d been gone for months. My car was too. I came back with nothing but the clothes on my back and countless scars. I’ve been told that I didn’t make any sense at first; I was just rambling nonsense. Or maybe it just sounded like nonsense to these people.
Over time, I forgot more and more of these fragmented images. And the less I remember, the more I can move on. Still, I’ve written them down over time, and they paint an ugly, insane picture of what I’d been going through. Some of which I, myself, have a hard time believing. Then again, I know myself well enough to see that there’s no point in lying.

I haven’t seen Samuel, or that strange kid ever since. I think this is all over, for now. There’s nothing left for me to give.
But even now, years later, I still wake up to that feeling at night. That there’s something wrong, or that I’m forgetting something. That there’s something near that I’m looking straight through, or past.
And every now and then, I hear the flutter of a moth’s wing, tapping against my bedroom window.
And I think I know what it wants.
It wants me to go back.

I have a test in 3 weeks. I've been learning once or twice a week since September of last year and this will be my first attempt.
I've noticed that my driving instructor doesn't give me a chance to prove that I have control of things. He always slightly steers the wheel to avoid a parked car just a second or two before I naturally would've - other times, when meeting traffic he will pre-emptively steer away much earlier than necessary.
Another example: if turning on a roundabout, he''ll hover his hand on the steering wheel to assist my steering, but this just demotivates me because I never get the chance to do it myself.
Sometimes he's been on the phone for 30 mins or so (we do 2 hour lessons, and I'm totally aware he absolutely shouldn't be on the phone mid lesson, but I'm relaxed about things and he's the cheapest in my area) and he won't pay attention to my driving. Then and only then, do I get to drive independently - so far I've had no crashes, no near misses. Just smooth driving with no problems, no need at all for him to intervene. Funnily enough, I feel like I have gained the most confidence in myself when he's not paying attention and I'm able to just drive without interruption.
Is anyone else's instructor like this? I get that it sucks if a student crashes the car, but if you never give your students a chance to drive totally independently, how can they ever learn and show that they're capable of driving?

Hi all. It's been a while since I posted. It's been so up and down for me and WH. From the beginning, when I got FD, WH was 100% committed to our marriage and relationship and doing whatever it takes to fix it. He didn't want to lose me. So that was almost 3 months ago. He's been consistent with that, how much he loves me, putting in the work with therapy and Affair Recovery. For context, he had multiple As (2 PAs and some online As).
On the other hand, understandably given the circumstances, I have not yet committed to R and the marriage due to needing time to grieve somethings and also out of fear. In my heart I want to reconcile and work things out, but needed to observe him for a while before officially committing.
Over the past few months, even though I haven't officially committed, we've pretty much been practically in R. He has been learning to express his feelings instead of bottling things up and pulling away (he's an avoider). We have been open and honest, transparent and vulnerable. We have had many period of sobbing together, sitting in pain. He has validated and empathized and is extremely remorseful. He's been depressed over what he did and in pain over the fact he hurt me and did those things.
I'd been working with out therapist on commitment and she proposed the relationship attachment model: know, trust, rely, commit. She suggest committing to this process of rebuilding rather than the relationship. What she explained made sense and even though I was scared, I decided I would commit to rebuilding with that model. It took the pressure off committing to the marriage right now.
Earlier this week, WH had a dream where he had a third PA. This dream wrecked him and sent him spiraling and reeling. He couldn't believe he fell into another A so easily in the dream. So when I told him in one of our talks that I was going to commit to the model the therapist proposed, he seemed off his words were positive but he wasn't as happy as I thought he would be. The next day he told me about the dream. He said he was shaken and spiraling and doesn't want to hurt me ever again. He literally broke down so hard and this is the worst I've seen him (and the other times were pretty bad). He said he can't believe he hurt me this bad - not me. I was the purest and most beautiful soul and he couldn't believe he hurt me of all people - not me. He said all he wanted to do was disappear, and die. Even though he loves me so much and wants a future with me, his fears are strong and he doesn't think he can commit to us because he doesn't want to hurt me. He hates himself and I deserve so much better.
This wrecked me, but it seems he can't give more than this right now. I mean, he is in a deep dark hole of dispair, self-loathing, depression, shame, guilt. He is starting to neglect his relationship with God again due to the overwhelming negative feelings. He is talking about just giving up. Part of him wants to die, part of him wants to give up hope of being saved, he is a failure. He failed me and failed himself and everyone else. He is tired. These are all some of the things he's been saying.
All of that to say, I'm now left in a place where I feel foolish. Even though I understand the context of his commitment suddenly being ripped away from me, I feel stupid and weak because just as I decided to go all in and commit to the process (and if that went well, the marriage again), he goes and does this. I'm torn between my empathy for him and just feeling silly. I've also been spiraling and crying for like 3 days. Today alone I've been crying nonstop since this morning. Hours. I'm surprised I have tears left.
In my despair and hopelessness, I feel like my pain at this moment is so great that it could kill me. That's literally how it feels. My heart literally hurts so bad, it's like dday all over again. I've started trying to picture leaving him, getting my own place, how we would separate, looking up divorce lawyers. In my heart, I don't want that. I don't want to lose him or the marriage. I love him so much it hurts, and I know he loves me, too. I know I can find a way to make it on my own, but I don't want to. He's my best friend. For the longest time, he's been my person.
I guess all of this to say, has any other BPs experienced the WP ending up in such bad self-loathing they think it would be best to end the relationship because you deserve better? And for the WPs, have any of you experienced this?
I don't know what to do but cry. I guess I just needed to get this off my chest so if you read it all, thank you.
I appreciate any kind comments you can give.
Thank you.
P. S. I don't have the energy to proofread this so please forgive any mistakes you come across. I'm typing this through blurred vision.

24th: Colby Donaldson 3.0 (Heroes Vs Villains - 5th)

\"So when the time was right, I made one more attempt\"
u/SMC0629:
Colby 3.0 is my favorite of his three iterations, and it has nothing to do with my opinion on Australia. The absolute deconstruction of Colby's abilities and spirit is somehow made into one of the most funny, mind-boggling, and emotional stories the show has given us. It all comes together with that final confessional, one of the best ever in the show, which proves to us that no matter what, he'll always keep fighting. Very deserved endgame for Colby 3.0.
~
u/DryBonesKing:
There… is a little bad blood for me internally about Colby 3.0 making Endgame. One, I am stunned that this group let Colby 3.0 outlast 1.0. I can’t believe Colby 1.0 got cut twice (since I ended up wasting an idol on the first attempt) before Colby 3.0. I find that borderline sinful lmfao. And two, I’m just annoyed that HvV ended up getting any representation in the Endgame. I really did not want this overrated season getting any representation and after focusing most of my concerns on someone like Sandra 2.0 or Parvati 3.0 or Rupert 3.0… I find out that I really messed up and that there were apparently Colby 3.0 stans here that actually wanted this Endgame. Whelp
Most of my issues though are meta-related, though. Colby 3.0 and Jerri 3.0 are the best parts of Heroes vs. Villains and the conclusion to their three-season story arc, even though it was diluted by Russell stealing away a decent chunk of their screentime, I do think what we did get to see was beautiful, from their cute little “Hey Colby” Interaction in that one reward challenge leading up to the finale with Jerri being visibly distraught about having to vote out Colby. It’s amazing stuff!
Colby 3.0 also does have the best storyline of the season, with being able to see how Survivor’s first “Hero” failed to live up to his own legacy, and sorta wallow in his own depression as a result of everything. There is a melancholy-air to Colby’s character, from watching him get his ass kicked in challenges to seeing him be an afterthought in strategies to even seeing him be part of one of the pettiest “family visit” scenes of all time when he just repeatedly fights with his brother Reid. And then obviously, there’s Colby’s final confessional, which I think is probably in contention for best confessional of all time. I don’t think there’s ever been a character’s returning appearance that feels anything like Colby 3.0, and that does make him really special. All things considered, I do have him ranked highly and I’m actually thrilled he topped Heroes vs. Villain’s rankings. I did want him to succeed and make Top 50. I just… wish he didn’t make Endgame. But meh
Overall Rank – 120/821
~
u/Zanthosus:
I’m going to be completely honest. This is the biggest WTF in our endgame to me. I might like Jane less overall, but I can understand why someone would have her in or around their endgame. Colby 3.0 though? I just don’t get it. I’m sure ninjedi will do a great job explaining it though. Also, it is kinda hilarious to me that the first non-Sandra HvV rep to get in is Colby of all people. Not Jerri. Not Parvati. Not Coach. Not even J.T. Colby. That’s just a hilarious legacy for this rankdown to have if I’m being honest.
~
u/Tommyroxs45:
Colby’s legacy in Heroes vs. Villains is unmatched, he’s Superman in a fat suit however you still see the desire for Superman. Him being the last hero remaining is so poetic and it makes him have one of the best confessionals of all time. Sad that he’s only the HvV rep as this season is literal perfection but I’m glad at least 1 person made it.
~
u/Regnisyak1:
From hero to zero to hero again, Colby 3.0 is truly an encapsulation of Heroes vs Villains' main themes about the blurring of lines between the two roles on Survivor, and how one does not fully exist in society. I love Colby 1.0, so I would have loved to see him here over 3.0, but Colby’s single confessional with the long pause in the finale of HvV warrants his position. Plus his not budging on an old-school game really sold his charm. Come on, Reed!
Personal Rank: 61/821. 9/10.
~
u/DavidW1208 will not be providing blurbs nor writeups for this endgame phase, however, his valuable contributions to this rankdown will be honored and acknowledged as we are taking his endgame rankings into full equal account for results. Much love David!! <3
~~~~~
u/ninjedi1:
Colby Donaldson 3.0 (5th Place, Heroes VS Villains)
When people talk about the OG Era of survivor or whatever we’re calling the first 40 seasons before New Era, people split the seasons into old school and new school, with Old School ending at season 20, Heroes VS Villains (which I personally disagree with, cause I feel like Nicaragua is the last old school season, but that’s a different conversation). Heroes VS Villains as the last of the “old school” season is meant to be a last hurrah as a number of early season players compete with more recent strategy savvy players from the newer seasons before the show truly made its transition from a social experiment to a game. And to me, no one truly represents that transition from old to new school, or better yet, represents the death of old school survivor than Colby Donaldson 3.0.
Everyone who’s watched Survivor long enough knows who Colby Donaldson is. He was the great American Texan who was a challenge beast and wanted to make sure that good people made it to the end, going up against Tina who was more deserving in his eyes over the easy beat Keith at the finale of AO. Then he made his return in Allstars where he would unfortunately but voted out fairly early on, but would come out of that season looking not that bad in comparison to a good number of other people! In the eyes of the viewing audience, he was still the great American hero, so it wasn’t surprising that the original survivor hero would return for Heroes VS Villains. Colby himself even talks about how its been a decade since he’s played the game, and he was ready to see if he still got it, and Jeff even sings his praises at the start of the game talking about how people were naming their kids after him. However, despite the hero returning to the coliseum to compete again, time would not be kind to him, as Colby would end up losing strength during the very first challenge, and would be dragged to the villains mat, losing a point for the heroes. A foreshadow of what Colby’s game was about to become.
However, it wasn’t all bad, as the heroes still win the challenge, and while Colby is aware about how rusty he is, he’s still having fun! However, that would quickly change as the days go on. He realizes that he needs to get into the rhythm of the game, and it was going to be miserable. He doesn’t have a clue about all the different connections and pregamed alliances when talking to Candace, leaving him out of the loop. He also gets annoyed with Sugar, who keeps trying to flirt with him and follow him around, which greatly annoys him. He would end up getting pulled into an alliance with Tom, JT, and Stephenie, and while they would all vote out Sugar at the very first tribal, everything goes wrong as JT would flip on the alliance, and after a fight with James during tribal where James yells at Steph and Colby defends her, Stephenie would get voted out in the second tribal. After that, Colby reflects a bit, talking to Tom about if the game at that point was for him, as he felt like he didn’t want to be a part of it. However, even though Colby was struggling with how the game was now, that fire that old school Colby had was still in there, as he was able to score a point against the Villain’s leader, Boston Rob, helping give the Heroes their first immunity win.
Colby would still struggle with the game, as he would ultimately be forced to take a backseat as Tom would lead the charge for them to get a bit farther, mainly using an idol he found to blindside Cirie as the heroes continued to downward spiral. This would actually help him in the game for a bit as Tom would be considered a bigger threat than him, and would be spared at the very next tribal. However, he was definitely next to go on his six person tribe, being the one on the outside of the 5 person alliance, and he needed a miracle to survive. However, that wouldn’t come, as both tribes would be going to tribal, so they were competing for individual immunity, and Colby performed terribly at it. At that point, he saw the writing on the wall and decided to just throw in the towel, telling his team that he knows he gone and they should have a relaxing day. However, James was injured, and the other members of the heroes feel like they need to keep Colby around as he would be better at challenges in the future, sparing Colby much to his surprise.
Colby is fully aware that there’s pressure on him to win the challenges for the heroes, and that its time to put up or shut up. Knowing that he was carrying the weight of the whole team seems to ignite something inside him. The old Colby Donaldson, the great american hero, had returned, and Colby would carry the heroes to victory at the next immunity challenge. In fact, he would be key in ensuring that the heroes wouldn’t lose the next three immunity challenges. It seemed that Colby was finally back into the game, and with the merge right there, it was time for olby, with the rest of the heroes, to lead the charge. However, that old school mentality of sticking together would fall apart at the merge with the new school strategy. The Heroes gave Russell an idol to save him, and Russell would use that generosity to give it to Parvati, who would use that and another idol to save Jerri and Sandra, sending JT home. Then when the heroes tried to rally together with Sandra, Candace would flip, getting Amanda out and leaving Colby and fellow hero Rupert to die. However, in their darkest hour, is where Colby would make a heroic move.
Since only Colby and Rupert were left, it was obvious that the villains would split their vote. Colby then realized that they might try to split their votes between them and Candace. Decided to avenge their fallen comrade Amanda, Colby pitches the idea of instead throwing away their vote to a villain, him and Rupert would instead cast their vote on the turncoat Candace, as if they split their vote on her, the vote would become a 5-3 vote and save them. The one moment of true strategic content from Colby would be a huge success, as it saved the two remaining true heroes and got rid of someone they knew they couldn’t trusted. This would work great for Colby as Russell would then work with him and Rupert to get Danielle, and suddenly the chance for a hero victory didn’t seem so out of reach now. However, Rupert would be the next to go, leaving Colby as the last hero standing by the time the finale rolls around.
Its fitting that Colby, the original hero, would end up being the last hero standing. Despite never getting a real foothold or truly understanding how the game now works, he was able to come so close to the end, and he just had to make it to the final 3 to win it. However, he loses F5 immunity to Parvati, and it looked like his game was done. In a sense of dejavu, we get another speech where he talks about how he knows he’s out, and they should all just have a relaxing afternoon. However, this time, we get a confessional talking about his speech, and how he almost believed it himself. But he’s never quit and anything and he won’t now. And then he just.. stays silent…lost in thought. Its genuinely one of my favorite confessionals in all of survivor, it just has so much emotional impact. We get that confident Colby that we’re so used to seeing for AO, and then just that long silence, as he contemplates the reality of his situation, maybe even coming to terms with it, before returning back to the Colby we’ve seen all season with one final line, “So when the time was right, I made one more attempt”. Colby’s last pitch is to Russell, saying that he’s much more likely to beat Parvati at F4 than Sandra. At this point though, Colby knows he’s done, as he talks about how this was the toughest season for him, and was the toughest journey to even get to that point, and in his final words, he calls himself an old dusty veteran, and that he just isn’t destined to win this game. With Colby voted out, the last true essence of old school survivor was gone, leaving in its wake a new school style to take hold.
~~~
SMC0629: 22
DryBonesKing: 20
Zanthosus: 23
Tommyroxs45: 23
Regnisyak1: 19
DavidW1208: 13
ninjedi1: 17
Average Placement: 19.571
Total Points: 137
Standard Deviation: 3.645 (3rd Lowest)

My son's teacher and all the paraprofessionals who work with him regularly are all amazing and I'd love to give them gifts. I don't know what to get that's not just another useless item. I don't know their likes or hobbies, but I really want to make them feel loved and appreciated. What are some special and memorable gifts you have received from a student?

I failed, I wasted my life... I ran away from my first and only love, then I got married without love. The only being I love - my son - grew up in the hell of my marriage, just like I grew up in the hell of my parents' marriage, and the thought that my son will be as unhappy as I am breaks my heart. The job that was my calling turned out to be a torment for peanuts. The loneliness that I brought upon myself is killing me. No one and nothing awaits me anymore. I see no future ahead of me. I am in pieces, shattered - gutted, disassembled, burned out, and deadly tired even though I haven't accomplished anything in life. I need to stop running even though I haven't reached anywhere. And rest. At all costs, I need to rest.

basically what the title says. i’ve been with my current therapist for just over 2 years and honestly im just getting worse. i’ve always gone through these cycles in my life of getting super depressed —> getting my shit together —> getting really depressed again but worse —> repeat. and with therapy that’s still happening.
i still can’t feel connected to people, im still suicidal, im still incredibly anxious, i still have no motivation and minimal direction in my life, etc. all of the things that im in therapy for are just getting worse.
i do think my therapist is rather incompetent (i can go into more detail if necessary but its a lot to type out rn) so i thought maybe trying a new one would be helpful but there lies the issue.
i am diagnosed autistic, bipolar 2, and ptsd. i am also chronically suicidal and have struggled with eating habits (i wouldn’t say i have an eating disorder, but an unhealthy relationship at least). i cant find one single therapist near me who has experience working with all of these things. telehealth is not accessible to me due to my autism.
also regarding suicidal ideation, i feel comfortable enough with my therapist that can say the words “i want to kill myself” without fear of something bad happening because i know that he understands its mostly passive. it would probably take years for me to be that comfortable with another person. AH THATS THE OTHER THING (sorry this is all over the place lol my thoughts are a mess rn). another thing that makes therapy difficult due to both autism and past trauma is just generally being able to connect with other people. i’ve seen other therapists in the past but could not talk to them at all. i can talk to this therapist. i just don’t think he’s good at his job.
i don’t know what to do and im tempted to give up on therapy all together

This is a headcanon of mine that only makes more sense to me the more I think about it but I wanted to run it by other lore scholars (hopefully with more knowledge than I)
I think the Emperor designed Vulkan and Angron to be his two most compassionate sons. Vulkan is Vulkan there isn't any explanation needed there, but Angron prior to the nails was actually a deeply caring and honorable individual, refusing to kill his comrades in the face of death, being deeply protective of those he called brother even after the nails, and even having empathic abilities that allowed him to soothe the anguish of his fellow gladiators. (before the nails killed that part of him)
If this is the case why is it that the Emperor praises Vulkan at every turn but seems to make no effort to help Angron at all? It is my belief that it is because Vulkan reminded him of Erda while Angron reminded him of himself.
In Vulkan he saw genuine humanity and compassion, something the emperor actually deeply values, and I believe it's something he valued in Erda hence why he never sought her out when she left (also because I think it would be nice if at least one primarch inherited something from their mom other than the necessary chromosome) and big E praises Vulkan for being genuinely human and humble, it's why the emperor had him craft the talisman of 7 hammers (aside from him being the only living loyalist with the know how to actually make it) because he knew the only way it's use (incinerating Terra should the emperor die on the throne) could actually be considered a good idea was if Vulkan agreed. If the nice primarch, the human primarch, the humble primarch, would agree that this horrific super weapon was acceptable than that's the only way to genuinely know it. More heartless and colder primarch's like Dorn or the Lion would look at it mathematically and pragmatically but would completely forget to even think of the ethics of it. Not Vulkan he wept upon hearing it's true function, it broke his heart to know the galaxy had been damned to such a point it might need this talisman, and the emperor knew that, and needed that emotion and empathy to the common people of Terra to aid his judgement. (Personally I think that if the Emperor heard Vulkan turned traitor he'd actually start thinking he's the bad guy because of how much he valued Vulkan's compassion and empathy)
But in Angron he saw the death of humanity, a being that was meant to be genuinely human and kind but had that part of them mutilated. Something that slowly happened to the Emperor himself he slowly lost his own humanity, becoming colder. And seeing that in his son caused him to subconsciously hate his son (for all of the Emperor's intellect he has a massive gap when in comes to emotional intelligence) it's why he didn't/couldn't fix Angron's brain in master of mankind. He saw in Angron the death of what would have made him human that happened in himself and because of that he didn't see Angron as worth saving. I believe that if he cared about Angron any more, even as a tool, he would have attempted something more that looking at his brain and giving up but because Angron acted as a mirror to all of the flaws of himself Big E didn't want to fix him. Even if it couldn't be done in that surgery I think he could have made more sophisticated and specialized tools to fix his son in a different surgery later. But all Big E saw was the dead humanity that was affecting himself, he saw a being that should have been compassionate, should have been empathic, should have been human but had all of that torn out by force, and in it he saw himself, the part of himself he hated the most. (And I my opinion him doing something like this makes him a much more interesting character) and this meant when Angron turned traitor it just affirmed to the Emperor he was right to hate Angron and therefore right to hate those parts of himself.
Tell me thoughts and corrections because I've been stewing on this for a while and want input

Looking for some good recommendations to navigate my future plans.
I completed my undergrad in Engineering in the US and then I started applying for Masters program and a job simultaneously. I had a job offer and two university acceptance with some good scholarships. I chose to take the job offer as I was financially broke and couldn’t afford to move to big city and for masters program. I came from a very weak financial background family, I have been supporting myself for my living and education and also supporting my parents back home. After working for 4.5 years now, I am kind of stable financially (make ~100K/annum) meaning I can afford to rent and pay for food/cars/education. I started my Masters in the same field of engineering as my work through distance learning in one of the top 5 graduate school of engineering. I will finish them in about 2 years and my company partially pays for the tuition.
I tried my hands at entrepreneurship before and during the pandemic time, I failed to successfully launch my startup in my home country and lost $25K. I was academically very good in schools and was always chosen for representatives/leadership roles in schools growing up ( people from India can relate to it). While I aspire to become a good entrepreneur in the future at the same time I feel my education is incomplete. I feel like doing a PhD on and off just for the sake of respect in the industry and the title and also salary bump. I had the offer for Sr. Engineering role in bayarea and declined the role. I am 28yrs old. I want to keep my job and would like to continue upskilling and get a degree (PhD). I have been thinking of doing a PhD related to the same engineering field of my work (advanced manufacturing in semiconductors) through online/distance learning. I saw there are some universities that offer the PhD program for the degree I want.
Do you recommend me doing PhD online? Is it worth it given my work and experience? Am I putting my head in the wrong direction?
TIA

I'm(19) an archeology student in the national institute of sciences of archeology and patrimony in rabat, next year will be my last year to get that license diploma, I'm thinking about studying master abroad and settle there, I really appreciate and love what I'm studying but in Morocco this field is a lil bit marginalized, simply bc the government doesn't give a big importance to this field, also in terms of job opportunities there isn't too much because my institute (insap) is the only concerned center with that field in the whole country. I really want to study abroad also you know that there's that budget obstacle, and I don't know if there's any scholarships, foundations that can found me or sheep countries

I just joined this company recently. My coworker whos in her 20s has worked here more than a year. She kind of reviews what I do and gives me feedback if that needs update. (I am in 30s and have more experience than her. Just not at this company) Sometimes she has to give me back up documents so that I can do my job.
Her manager emailed my pod for some incorrect entries that were posted. I noticed she gave me wrong back up document. I requested nicely to provide updated document. She didnt respond to my email but said its all taken cared of.
I Slacked her asking what do you mean its all taken cared of? She responded she updated everything so no follow up needed.
She never has corrected what I did before until that point. Never. She even tells me to update something my pod did incorrectly. She also deleted the back up document and posted another.
I got very annoyed. I emailed her ccing her manager asking to provide all the work she hasnt done for awhile and requested to follow up.
She sent me Slack saying she should reach out to her privately if I need something. She requested not to talk to her manager before (she doesnt know a lot of things she does and she spends too much time figuring it out I sometimes ask her manager directly) Her manager is not my manager but we are all in the same team constantly communicating with each other. Idk why I have to go through her just because she wants it that way. - Shes very ambitious works hard but cant stand if her imperfection is noticed by her manager. I dont think he cares at all. Hes super nice boss.
I sent her another Slack asking she should provide correct back up and I wanted her manager to have visibility since he has more knowledge. She was bitching about working late and she had so much work. (Is that my prob?) Never apologized for providing wrong back up.
I didnt respond to her last Slack and moved on doing my work.
I saw her being dishonest before (she deleted something I did and when I asked she said no but updated that later)
I can maintain working professionally but if she keeps deleting something behind my back pretending she didnt make any mistake. I will be soooo pissed.
How should I handle this going forward????

Warning: Domestic violence
Today I had a verbal fight that turned physical. Yes this has happened before, but not in front of one of our kids.
My husband (47m) found out about me (34f) smoking cigarettes. I admit I was hiding it. I started smoking when I was a teenager and have always ended up going back to it in times of stress.
He started yelling. Calling me honor-less and an oath breaker. He also took and threw my phone. Then he asked how long I’d been smoking for. I told him since the incident where he locked me out of the house. He responded by ask “The night when you ghosted us and I had to lock the house up to protect us?”
I said “I was listening to my dad’s advice. Someone I trusted.” (This incident was a yelling fight, I left the house. I called my dad and he told me to turn my tracker app off. Hence the ghosting.)
He yelled “You dad can go die in the water.”
I snapped. I told him. “Don’t insult or threaten my father.”
That’s when my husband came stomping up to me, hands clenched. I threw a knee up. I don’t think I actually hit him, but it was enough to make him go off. He grabbed me by the throat and I bit down on his arm. That’s when he started banging my head against the wall telling me to let go. It’s hard to do when your head is ringing. I eventually let go but he continued to choke me until our eldest child talked him down.
Afterwards my husband wouldn’t let me have me glasses back until again our eldest talked him down. To give them back he threw them hard on the ground.
Now here comes my what do I do now problem? I have epilepsy and can’t drive. I don’t have a job because of this. No public transportation. I have two stepchildren who I have raised. I have been their mom for a decade. I can’t take them away or it would be kidnapping. I have one blood child. I could leave but I would only be allowed to take my youngest.
Where would I go? There is a shelter an hour from here. But that would eventually start divorce proceedings and without a job I am sure I would lose custody. (The blood mother lost custody and she had a job.) I am fucking stuck. In my state you have to be legally separated for a year before starting divorce proceedings.

About Delena’s kid(s)?
In legacies, they mention Damon and Elena having atleast one child: Stefanie. The existence of their child viscerally upsets me, here’s why:
Damon and Elena both carry the doppelgänger gene. The only reason Tom Avery exists is because one of the three Salvatore brothers reproduced, Zachariah being the only known brother to have been capable of doing so as he was completely human. This makes Tom related to Damon. Even with Tom dead, he probably still has family members that carried the gene. By giving life to Stefanie, they are creating a situation in which the future doppelgängers would be related, even if distantly. Not to mention the small population of Mystic Falls giving possibilities to Elena and Damon being related themselves. As a southern individual, I’m well versed in the accidental cousin bumping that occurs in small southern American towns.
The simple existence of their child kid raises many concerns in my opinion. They know how dangerous being a doppelgänger is yet they decide to be parents to a kid who could continue the cycle. By doing this, that put their descendants at a great danger.
For those wondering where the name Zachariah is from it’s mentioned in 3x16 of TVD, in which Damon talks about his father’s other son, who Joseph is descended from:
https://vampirediaries.fandom.com/wiki/1912

the sweetest person ever commented on my last post and gave me some really nice advice, i eventually took it and told him everything, im not gonna give any context here because im lazy but it was hard for awhile and eventually worked out, he accepts me and still loves me as long as i dont transition!
even now that things are good with him, the depression and suicidal thoughts and allat arent getting any better, theyre actually getting worse. ive been having really extreme mood swings more often and more intensely, without him i cant even get out of bed or move around, ive barely done any of my schoolwork thats all due by july, and i still very much hate myself!
i pinky promised him i wouldnt leave him, that means no killing myself. i love him so much and i take pinky promises really seriously but i dont know why i did that, i hate it and i want to end everything but i know that im the only thing keeping him here, i guess that why i promised. but frick man :(
i dont know how long i can last, i dont have any sort of future im so incredibly stupid and lazy and i always self sabotage, how am i supposed to get a job or go to college one day? im 14 and ive already tried to kill myself multiple times, hows it gonna feel to be 18 one day???
i just dont know what to do. i dont know if i want advice or if i just want to write this down or something but i dont think any advice will help this time.
im on medication, citalopram, that ive been on for a few months now since my last hospitalization and ive been begging my mum not to make me take it. i know she cant MAKE me but me refusing dtressed her out and i dont want to hurt her anymore i just cant take it. the feeling of taking them just disgusts me and reminds me of my attempt, they make me scared that its gonna control me and then im reminded everytime im happy that its not just me, i have stupid medication in me.
i just dont know what to do. i cant avoid school forever, i dont think i have any sort of future, im genuinely just hopeless. i really wish he fell in love with someone else who was more stable, not me, hes the sweetest boy in the world and he doesnt deserve to have to always deal with me.
last night i got sad because we didnt have one of the ingredients to make a shirley temple at 1 in the morning and started crying, i got all dry and sad and i almost ruined his night. why the hell am i like this.
ive been asking my parents and doctors to test me for adhd, austism and bpd but they wont. i hate it. autism because of my anxiety, bpd because im 14 even though i know that they technically can test me, and adhd for whatever reason, they just wont. i want to kill them all. i dont understand why they cant just get me some tests and let me know whats wrong with me.
my dad too, i want to kill him. i hate him. he ruins everything. awhile ago he (52?) got mad at my brother (19) and my mom (42?) was scared so i went out and he took off his hoodie and started going towards my brother aggressively so i got inbetween them and started SCREAMING at my dad that if he touches my brother ill kill him. now, like everytime, weve just been acting like nothing ever happened. why cant he aknowledge it and kill himself or something, i hate him. he refuses to stop drinking even when its ruining all of us and then he blames me for being young and "selfish" and "ruining all of their lives" i hste him
i got a little emotional writing this so my bad, idek if anyones reading this but if you are have a great day and remember to eat (youre perfect, i pinky promise) and remember to drink some water and dont drink or smoke too much please and remind someone that you love them and just take care of yourself! bye bye, sorry!!

Hi guys,
I currently work away from home as a welder early Monday morning until late Friday night. Things recently have gotten difficult, longer hours and expectations to be in different places across the country early in the mornings. This along with missing my family - I currently have an 8 year old son and I’m soon to be wed to my fiance, has made working away very difficult.
I make an okay wage of around £48k a year (with subs) but wages for welders around the North West where I live, are really low in comparison.
Tomorrow I have an interview for a job paying £31k a year, but working Monday - Thursday. If I get offered this position, I would like to either expand my horizons with being a welder or maybe learn something new on the side. Especially with having an extra day a week to do things. Would anyone have any recommendations on something new to learn? I’ve thought about learning a data programming language but unsure if it would pay off.
Also, has anyone been in a similar position? And did you regret any decisions along the way?
I really miss my family and I don’t see things getting better at work, but it’s a hell of a pay decrease.

No it's not about a catch or anything, but I was hanging with some friends today (common) and my ex ( she is the dumper) spawned out of nowhere.
My anxiety just went sky high in that moment, and I was shaking big time.
I said hello and I kept it cool, i continued talking with my friends, however she asked me how I was and I told her I'm just busy with all my projects and work. In 4 month since BU a lot of things happened, I went from 110 KG all the way to 87 KG, constantly going to gym and focusing on myself.
She complimentted my looks, my new car and she even told me that she has to give me my stuff back even if this hurts her a lot, but she keeps forgetting. I said it's fine, she can keep em or donate them to kids in need.
I had her key and left it in her mailbox when I went to her city to catch a plane and she was mad and told me that I was an asshole cuz I didn't call her to let her know about the key. I told her that I didn't want to call because I just wanted the things to be left how she left them and and there isn't anything else to be said. She was left speechless and she didn't talk with me anymore after that.
When she left she fist bumped with me with the hand that was wearing the ring I gave her ( a ring golden with infinity sign that I gave her and told her I will always feel the same thing for her) for me to see that she still wears it.
To end this "rant" I'm happy and I'm happy that I could overcome a random encounter with someone who hurt me so bad, I really really loved her and to be honest with you guys, I thought she might be the one, we had such good connection until she dumped me due to her "depression" but yet again was on tinder not even a month after the BU.
Everything will change, it's just a matter of time, fight through the pain and the cuts your ex leaves you. You will get eventually through and if you fear something, embrace it breathe and let it be. As much as it hurts, you deserve the win.
A part of me is happy that I saw her and a part of me is proud of myself for how I handled it as to be honest I held a lot of hate towards her as I was so hurt for leaving me out of nowhere. I could have been mean and tell her everything I kept ruminating about all this time. But I chose peace.
Let yourself feel the pain and embrace it, you will win eventually and doesn't matter how small the win is you will feel better about yourself!
Stay cool and if everyone is going through something similar, just know you are loved and you will get better. I trust you and we all do

So, I'm 36 years old, unemployed, and new to the US. I want to give my screenwriting career a real shot. But not having a full time job is really getting to me. I want to know what's a good job to pursue while I'm working on my spec features/pilots. FYI, I live close to Orange County, and can travel to LA for work, if that will helpe build connections. I'm looking for some opinions/guidance from other writers who've been through a similar situation.

I was recently interviewed at a job and the hiring manager asked me to provide references afterwards as they wanted to have reference checked. My references (former manager, professors) agreed so I provided their contact. I trust my references giving good feedback. The hiring manager moved on to other candidates. Should I update my referees and thank them?