I have sleep paralysis somewhat regularly, it comes and goes. I have noticed I tend to get it more often when I don’t have a lot of sleep for a couple days. I have seen different sleep paralysis “demons” how ever the hat man experience I had was probably the worst sleep paralysis I have ever had. Here is the story
At the time I was living by myself in somewhat rural Alaska in a small duplex. My place was sorta small it was about 1000 sq ft with 2 bed 1 bath. When you open the front door the living room opens up to your right, the kitchen then bathroom are to your left and the 2 rooms are straight back with the doors being on the back side of the living room. Both rooms were pretty small, one I used for storage and the other my bedroom. Since the room was small my queen sized bed only fit comfortably in one orientation with the front door to the home being in direct line of sight from my bed and vice versa. Normally I sleep with my door closed but this particular night I slept with it open because I was so tired and accidentally fell asleep when I got home from a long day of work. I remember waking up to a noise and immediately noticed I couldn’t move. Since I get sleep paralysis often I have gotten better about not freaking out and normally if I close my eyes and focus on quickly rolling my body or moving my arm or leg I can move myself out of it. So almost routine at this point I quickly get myself out of it and sit up and look out into my living room to see what the noise was. Right next to my front door is a big window, I leave the blinds closed but light goes through them fairly easily. On this night the moon was probably full and the moonlight was coming through the window pretty bright and I could see my living room and kitchen fairly good. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I figured the sound came from sleep paralysis because not only do I sometimes see things but I also sometimes hear things. I went back to sleep. I again awoke in sleep paralysis but this time my chest was a bit heavier and my heart was pounding. The anxiety was a little more frightening and I didn’t immediately do my routine to get out of the sleep paralysis and mistakenly started looking around. That’s when I saw the hat man. My front door was wide open and white moon light shining in. At the door way the completely black figure with the distinct hat stood staring at me. I was in a state of panic and shock, I couldn’t tell if it was real or not because normally the environment doesn’t change and this time my front door was clearly open. I have a pistol I keep for self defense and it was on my nightstand. I did my routine, rolled my body and quickly grabbed my pistol. I sat up and pointed my pistol at my front door but it was closed and everything was normal. At this point my anxiety was high and I was nervous to fall back asleep because I haven’t had such bad sleep paralysis in a while but I laid back down, went on my phone for a bit and decided to go back to sleep. The way my duplex is set up my neighbor is on the bottom unit and I’m on the top so you have to go up some stairs to get to my front door. There is a small one car garage but it belongs to my downstairs neighbor and was used for storage so I parked my truck in front of it and the stairs to my front door was to the right of the garage and my truck. Now the dream is foggy but for some reason I dreamed that I woke up again, gotten scared and went outside to get in my truck and fell back asleep. I woke up again in sleep paralysis but this time I was in the passenger seat of my truck. Again I didn’t follow my routine, my head was foggy, confused, and nervous. I started looking around not being able to move and having my heart have this indescribable heavy pit of anxiety. I looked at my front door open with the hat man standing there looking inside my house. I was at this point, in such a state of panic I wanted to start crying, the type of crying when you make those disgusting audible sobs and gasp for air in between each sob, but because I couldn’t still being in sleep paralysis and not being able to move or make sound all I could do is watch this hat man in horror. It would get worse, while being a completely pitch black figure I could see the hat man move and turn his body around. He was now looking at me, my anxiety was at an all time high and at this point everything felt so real and looked so real that I believed it was real. I watched him slowly walk down the steps and make his way to my truck. He walked up to the window and I looked directly at his pitch black figure staring at me through the tinted window of my truck. And for the first time I saw a sleep paralysis “demon” with a color other than pitch black when the hat man grinned from ear to ear with pearly white teeth. His smile looked like Chester cat’s smile from Alice in Wonderland. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this level of fear at any other point in my life, panicked, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to roll out of the sleep paralysis. I could vividly feel the cold leather of my car seat on my skin but when I finally rolled out of my sleep paralysis I was in my bed. Safe to say I didn’t go back to sleep. That was my worst and most frightening sleep paralysis experience and (knock on wood) I haven’t experienced anything nearly as scary since.
That was when I was about to turn 20, I’m now about to turn 23 and I have made significant improvements to my sleep which in turn has caused me to experience way less sleep paralysis. That time still haunts me. The worst part was how real it felt I legit thought I was in my car I couldn’t tell the difference between reality and dream, everything felt so real. Sleep paralysis is the worst and none of my friends and family experience it, so when I talk about it they don’t seem to grasp how scary it is for me. I have had demons squeeze my throat to where I couldn’t breathe while their pitch black face stares at me. I’ve had people stand in my room and all I could do is watch hoping they aren’t real feeling so vulnerable from not being able to move. I’ve tried screaming at my partner to help as I watched them sleep next to me not being able to get the scream out and feeling so trapped and anxious. It really does suck and I’m sorry for all the other folks who have to deal with it. Feel free to share your worst sleep paralysis stories I’m curious as to what other people have experienced.

Humans were always interested in evil, hell, devil, everything that's backwards from good, by the time of history of humanity people have adapted into their religions, and they believe how many miscellaneous religions exist, however in reality, there's just 2, first one is a belief in god or good and the second one is belief in devil or evil.
By those 2 beliefs, it's extremely easy not just to manipulate with singular person, but also with whole world. It's something like a domino effect, you begin with one, and then there shall be a chain reaction that will also cause influence to others. That is something that is strongest in us humans, but that is something that is incomprehensible for us.
I was always interested in that, why do lot's of people want to form contact with devil. Why does that attract, intrigue and interest them, why are there many cults and groups that are desperately in all possible ways attempting to form a contact with an evil side, the king of most evil, the devil.
That is where my story begins, it begun from my curiosity on why do people want to form a contact with devil so much. I was a student, moreso the best one in my entire class, others considered me to be a very smart person, a person with an intelligence that is above average, but I've possessed my bad sides as well, no one is perfect. My adventure begins with my one friend that trustfully informed me how he knows someone who is a participant in a local cult or sect, curious me was slyly and carefully asking about that person and cult and successfully I've received those informations, I contacted that person and told him how I would also like to become a participant in his cult. The first thing that was told to me obviously was how becoming something like that isn't such an easy and straightforward thing, because they solely pick those who are tremendously competent to be an adequate fit for their cult, I was determined to become part of it so I accepted.
It was 13th November a hour before midnight, when I've received a message to arrive on one place in which there was nothing, I knew that road that I was traveling with in my car at that night, around me were only fields and trees. I was told that after 3 turns I should turn left and go for another about 100 meters, and then next to the biggest tree I must park and get out, and after that I must make exactly 66 steps from the left of that tree, on that place I shall receive my first test. And that is what I've done, I got out of my car and observed around but there was nothing, just a sound of a basic night, when I made 66 steps, I stumbled upon one old book that was simply just laying on the ground, the grass on that place was obviously cut just so that book was noticeable. On the peace of paper that was glued on it said how should I go back to my apartment and read the entire book exactly 3 times and how I should do everything that says in it. The name of the book was "The Devils Bible" It appeared very archaic with its thick covers and yellowish heavily congregated pages, it looked like a real replica of a 500 year old bible but with all kinds of satanic symbols drawn on its covers.
I arrived at my apartment and read the book exactly 3 times, for such thing I required 3 days, but my determination was still strong, all kinds of stuff were written on it, about the creation of devil and the techniques he uses to spew evilness on this world, how to truly summon the devil, how to truly submit a victim to evil, how to sell soul, and many other miscellaneous infos about such diabolical stuff. I've remembered almost every word and read every page. However I was very skeptical about this book because the historical misinformations were ubiquitous in this book but, what I wanted I received it.
After exactly 6 days I received another textual message with an address, the address led me to an abandoned factory that was located in the edge of the city. 10 years ago that factory burned down and no one goes there anymore, apparently it's haunted and many suicides occurred there, that is why it carries a frightening history and goes by the name "Factory of Death". When I arrived in front of the factory I saw that light in one part is on, I came into a conclusion that someone was genuinely in there, before I went into it, the doors opened, and one man came out. To my surprise, that man had a very nice and elegant suit, he asked for a card that I had on the center of my book that I received, I gave it to him, and then he told me to follow him, and then I came into that room. The thing I saw there seriously left me frightened, about 20 people with black robes and hoods that covered their heads sat in a circle that on the center had a big bowl with fire, and on top was a giant cross that was turned backwards, on the walls a lot of satanic symbols were drawn.

(Repost because it wasn’t formatted correctly last time)
I think Isaac still tries to sleep. I don’t know why. Surely he’s realized it’s impossible by now.
No one sleeps anymore. We grow weary at times, though it takes much longer than it should. People comfortably go days without sleep. Weeks, if necessary. However, sooner or later fatigue will catch up to you. Most people just white knuckle it and keep going about their business. Because sleep simply will not come. The fatigue will pass, for the most part. But not because of sleep. It just sort of fades into the background
I once knew a man that was determined to sleep. He swore he wouldn’t get up until he’d had a good nights rest. He found a reasonably comfy spot, and stayed there for what must have been months. I will admit, I briefly entertained the notion that he might have succeeded. Until I heard him weeping softly, one night.
Isaac knows all of this, which is why it confuses me so when he does this. He sits there by the camp fire, eyes closed, head bowed, hunched over. Honestly, he almost looks like he’s asleep.
If this is how he chooses to deal with our lot in life then I suppose it’s his choice but it does perplex me to no end.
I’ll never try to sleep again. Never. Not just because I know it won’t work. Because truth be told, I’m afraid if I close my eyes I won’t want to open them again. Once I’ve closed my eyes, I think perhaps that would be the first step towards truly giving up.
So instead, I sit awake. Watching the rest of the group come and go, watching the fire, watching the sky. But most of all, I watch Isaac.
I won’t mince words. I watch Isaac because he is beautiful. In every way one could imagine.
He looks out for everyone here. Even those stronger than him. I don’t know how to explain it, but he has a quiet confidence that gives hope to everyone around him. He believes in himself, and he believes in each and everyone of us. I truly don’t think we would have made it this far if that wasn’t so.
I think perhaps under normal circumstances, I would fall for Isaac. However it’s hard to think of romance under our current circumstances. Early on, I told myself i would mention these possible feelings to him, once we returned to the things went back to normal. But then, who’s to say they ever will? Who’s to say normal even exists? The first time night lasted longer than a day, everyone thought the world was ending. But then the sun came back out, and we all thought life was back to normal. Then the sun didn’t set. For 7 days straight. When it did set, people said it would never rise again. Yet it did. Eventually.
I don’t even remember how long ago that was now. Maybe months. Maybe years. It’s been hard to keep track of the. But the sun still rises, and set. It just takes longer to do both. Never the same amount of time. But usually a month or more.
Some say time itself is breaking down. Stretching, and contracting, moving back and forth. It sounds like nonsense. Then again the idea of the sun not rising or setting when it should, also sounds like nonsense.
The hopeful ones around camp say there’s a way to reverse all of this, and set things back to normal. They say it’s a magic spell that’s caused this, and that if the spell is broken, life will be as it was.
Isaac says it’s true. He heard it from one of the other travelers. And they heard it from some other stranger. Sounds far fetched to me but what else is there to cling to? Isaac says we have to hold onto stories like that. Sometimes I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t believe it himself even when he tells others to believe. That’s what I mean when I say that Isaac is beautiful.
He strives to give be hope to others when he has none. Somehow he succeeds. People believe him. They feel he’s right. They know he’s right. Isaac continually achieves the miracle of pouring from an empty cup.
Maybe that’s why he tries so hard to sleep. Must take a lot of energy to be leaned on like that. He probably feels more tired than any of us.
You wouldn’t know it to look at him most of the time. He carries himself with a calm, quiet grace. He’s soothing to be around. Everyone says so. No matter how bad things get, Isaac always believes we’ll be okay, and when one talks to him, one tends to feel the same way.
Mind you, he’s not what you’d call optimistic. He doesn’t smile much. In fact he frequently looks a bit sad. He is not blind to how dire our situation is. He doesn’t try to lie to anyone, and convince them that things are good. They aren’t. Things are truly miserable. But they won’t always be. Isaac knows that. So we know that. And that’s why we need him. I wish I was the kind of person Isaac could needed.
The only 2 people Isaac ever seems to need are David and Edward. The 3 of them are practically inseparable. They’re our own holy trinity.
It’s easy to see why everyone looks to them. And easy to see why they get along so well. They all have the same utter unwillingness to quit, but they also each have their own strength that compliments one another
Isaac of course, is very gentle, and soft. People can talk to him. Cry to him, even.
David is fearless, and I mean that in the most literal way possible. He’s a small fellow, hardly looks like much of a fighter. Yet there’s not a damn thing in the world that scares David. I’ve never seen him flinch at anything. Never.
Edward is unshakably optimistic. To a fault, I’d argue. His constantly cheerful demeanor never falters, even in the worst of times. That may sound pleasant but can come across as quite uncanny at times. One might even call it unnerving. Regardless of what I think of Edward though, is Isaac is so fond of him I suppose he can’t be all bad.
On a battlefields they’re truly a force to be reckoned with. Between David and Isaac’s swords, and Edwards’s axe, they can make short work of even the larger foes. Even the Wrath demon which can’t be killed by human weapons. The three of them together can beat a Wrath demon senseless, cut its limbs off. A demon can’t maul a person to death very well without arms after all.
One time, I even saw Isaac keep a wrath demon at bay all in his own. Even tho it roared over him, at least twice his height and weight, the thing simply couldn’t get its claws on him. He covered the thing in cuts, all over its body. The way he whips that great sword of his around, you’d think he weighed little more than a dagger. Each time the demon tried to grab him, he would reward it with a fresh wound on its hand or arm. The thing was covered in its own blood by the end of the fight. The beast could have crushed Isaac in it’s bare hands if it got close enough, yet he scared it off. The thing actually ran from him. There isn’t much the wrath demons run from, but they run from Isaac when he fights for us. Of course I would have helped Isaac in the fight that day but my arm was broken at the time.
Anyway. Isaac is a hell of a man, and we’re lucky to have him around. Especially once the sun sets again. Night demons will be crawling all over the place once it’s dark. The fire will keep them at bay to some extent, but if we’re forced to fight, there’s no one I’d rather be lead by than Isaac.
That being said, I still worry about him. If he chases sleep long enough, I fear madness will take him to, eventually. Once it takes him, the whole group is next.

Me and a few of my friends decided to meet up the other day and after a few drinks started talking about weird things that happened to us during our high school years. One of them brought up the time I “technically” died and it got me thinking about it, so I decided write down what happened and share it with you guys.
I believe it was my junior year that it happened, the exact day is still kinda fuzzy to me. I played football since I was in 4th grade and it was a no brainer that I would do it in high school. I wasn’t any Tom Brady but I’ll say I was a pretty good center. I remember it was a night game cause the stadium lights were on and our running backs were complaining that they couldn’t see the ball because of the glare from them.
You know that feeling you get when you did something you weren’t supposed to do? Like when you lie to your parents or break something and try to hide it? That’s what I felt like the entire day before the game. Something felt wrong. Even minutes before the game while the usual R&B music played in the stadium speakers, it still felt wrong. I would know why a little later.
It was near the end of the 4th quarter, the play was called in the huddle, we lined up, ball snapped and…nothing. Everything was dark, I could hear talking and some screaming but eventually it faded out. I felt like I couldn’t move, kinda like how sleep paralysis works.
Eventually the darkness I saw slowly disappeared and my body started to escape its paralyzed state. When I could fully see again I noticed I wasn’t on the field anymore. In fact I had no idea where I was or how I had gotten there. My brain was racing, trying to figure out what happened. I eventually settled on the obvious answer. I was hit too hard, got a concussion and passed, then was rushed to the hospital.
That’s what I thought, I was just in a hospital. But even then it didn’t make sense, the room I was in was too dark. There was no medical equipment or even a bed in there with me. I was just laying on the floor. The only thing that pointed towards a hospital was my clothes were replaced with what seemed like a gown.
Soon my brain started to conceptualize a new answer. It’s funny how the human brain will do everything in its power to make you feel as if all that’s happening has an explanation for it. While my brain was working on that, my body decided it was time to start seeing where I was. I slowly got up off the floor and headed towards what seemed like an exit.
As I walked I took notice of everything around me. The walls of the room seemed to be covered in a strange ash like substance. They also had a heated feel to them, not burning but still hot enough that if held long enough it was leave a mark. The floor seemed to be the same material as the wall, also coated in that ashy layer.
The room soon began to turn into a hall, it never seemed to end. I’m pretty sure I walked for hours on end down it, my gown was covered in ash and scuffs soon enough. I started to see what looked like light as I neared the end, and a sound started to fill my ears as I got closer.
Crackling. Like the sound fire makes as it gets to hot. My brain started to put pieces together, it explained why the walls and floor were hot. What my brain couldn’t wrap around was what I stared at as I exited the hall.
Hell. That’s what I would describe it as and where I believed I was. The sky, if you could call it that, was nothing but smoke and slight rays of orange peaking through. Mountains higher than any I have ever seen painted the back drop of this nightmarish picture. Creatures of unexplainable nature covered the ground and sky, they all looked like they were in pain. Then I heard the screams.
I had been captivated by the almost endless horror I saw that I never heard the screaming. There were billions and billions of people here with me. They all were screaming or crying, each being tortured in a different way. Some burned, some gored, some twisted into shapes Iv never seen. I just watched in horror at the scene before me.
It wasn’t long before I felt something clawing at me, I yelped in pain as I turned my head to see something scratching at my leg. It was like a snake had grown legs, but the skin of it never grew around his new found limbs. I kicked it away before someone grabbed my arm. My eyes worked up the exposed muscles of the arm, soon meeting the eyes of its owner.
He was almost beautiful, a black eyed man with bronze like skin. He held my arm, almost to tell me not the fight it. His body was covered in ashes and what looked like whip marks. He spoke but I couldn’t understand him. I wasn’t sure what language it was or if it even was a language. He pulled my arm and begrudgingly I followed, the snake still scratching at my legs.
He took me down a long stair way, making sure I could see every kind of torture being applied to the people around me. Boiling, grinding, crushing, gouging. It made me sick but I could puke, it was like my ability to was taken away. We continued to walk, we crossed herds of creatures as they seemed to eat and mutilate multiple people. I watched as they ripped them open and ate, yet the people never died. They just laid there and accepted they new life.
My brain couldn’t wrap around what was happening anymore. It started to just say I was dreaming, it was all a dream and I was still concussed. But it all felt to real. The heat, the scratching, the man’s hand gripping my arm. I could feel it all.
It felt like days had gone by since I woke up in that room. As we walked past the mountains I saw earlier I noticed they were made entirely of bones. Some human, some not. I stared up to the sky as I watched winged creatures fly through the smoke clouds, occasionally they blocked out the orange rays as they circled overhead.
We walked more and more, the snake had stopped scratching but only cause it had reached the bone of my legs. I felt it all but couldn’t yell or cry from the pain of it. I just watched at the muscles and nerves of my calfs moved with each step I made. The man suddenly stopped, he turned to look at me and pointed towards a pit.
We walked towards and as I looked down I finally could few something in me drop. At the bottom was thousands of people. They were pushed together in the tight hole, some crawling on top of others trying to get free. I watched in horror as the man pointed towards holes lining the walls of the pit. Thick, hot, red liquid pumped out of the holes, it covered the people and filled the pit. I watched as some swam to the top and cried, other being pushed down deeper into the liquid. Eventually the pit drained and the people went back to fighting and screaming.
I slowly moved away from the pit side as the man looked at me. He spoke again and pointed at the pit. I didn’t understand him but I knew what he wanted. “Get in” That’s what it was. This was to be my new home. I just started to pull at my arm, trying to get free. He pulled me closer and I started to pull more. He stared at me and let go. I don’t know why but he just let go and stared at me, speaking.
I ran. I ran as fast as I could from him and the pit. I ran for what felt like days, maybe weeks even. Each time I looked back it seemed I had only moved a foot away. I just cried and ran, no other thoughts were in my head besides the fact I had to get away. I stopped looking back and just closed my eyes. I could feel thousands of those creatures chasing after me, I could feel they breath and heat running down my neck. I heard they horrid growls and the sound of crackling filling my ears. I just screamed and cried until.
“AHHHHH!” I screamed as I sat up from a gurney, my body drenched in sweat. The two responders that were with me jumped back and quickly told me to lay down. I tried to fight back but they told me to calm down and relax. My eyes darted around and looked where I as. I was in an ambulance. I slowly laid back and let them check me, one of them told me what happened.
When I snapped the ball a defender had hit me and knocked me to the ground. My heart had stopped. They were called and saw my coach doing CPR on me. They got me in the ambulance and continued compressions. My heart had stopped for almost 9 minutes and they were ready to declare me dead until my heart started to beat again and I came to. I just laid they and started to cry.
The doctors could easily explain why my heart stopped. They had thousands of reasons why. But they never could explain the scars on my legs that appeared after I came too. It also wasn’t until recently they noticed the significant amount of damage to my lungs, like I had being breathing in smoke for years.
I would regularly visit the doctors to have my heart checked and besides the scars, everything I was told about what happened made sense but what didn’t make sense was what I saw when my heart was stopped.
I was in that hellish place for what felt like months. Everything I felt was real, sometimes I still feel my legs bleeding and look down just to stare at those scars, almost like a reminder that maybe it wasn’t my imagination. I told people what I saw and they all say it was my mind making a place holder or working to stay alive while my heart was stopped. I took that idea and ran with it for a long time but still. Sometimes when I’m alone and everything is silent, I feel like I’m still there.
The screams of those people, the growls of those beast, the smell of that smoke, and the crackling of that fire. It’s all still there, tormenting me. Like they all crying for me to return. Like they saying that even though I escaped I must come back, that that’s where I belong now.
I see those people in that pit and ever so often I’ll here those retched words. I might not understand them but I know what they are. They push past the sound of fire and screams, calmly saying to me…
Get in

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

Me F(22) and my ex husband (23) were married when we were married at (19) and (20). We got married so young. He was in the military and he was during basic training. I believe that we had the best relationship before the army. We were both heavily in love with each other. But then the army happened and got married. My parents never really liked the ideas of getting married and we did it anyways without them knowing. It created a hard time for us. He was stationed in the Texas. Hundreds of miles away from where we lived. We did long distance until I got out of our lease and moved with him. I was constantly told by my parents that he is using me for the bah money, or not to feel lonely. I never did I feel that way until we got divorced but I don’t know what to feel about that anymore. I’ll explain more after I add more information to our story. He got into a car accident and the car totaled so he need a new car. Which added to debts and with the debts came the problems. We had so many debts and the army pressure never helped us. I worked for a few months but i quit my job cause it wasn’t good for my mental health. I can attribute some of the blame. I could have continued to work and paid off our debts but i couldn’t. I went into a heavy depression state that I didn’t realize I was in. I did do things around the house like cook dinner (not all the time cause I didn’t have any motivation to do it so we order DoorDash), I used to do laundry in the bathtub because he was so busy and tired to go to laundry may, I constantly picked up and cleaned the house. I could have done more. I know I’m partially to blame for a lot of things. I had trust issues but those added to our problems. One day I was gone for a month, I went to spend time at a youth group trip with his mom and then I went to see my parents after that. When I got to Texas his best friend told me that he was trying to sleep with another woman while I was gone. Which killed me. I asked him when he got home and he told me that he was trying to but he didn’t do anything with her and was trying to seem like it cause his friend was pushing it on him. I forgave him and push past it. I fucked up too. I did something that i regretted and still regret till this day. I loved him and I still do. I don’t think I will ever stop loving him. We were had our fights like always. It was always about money and how I wasn’t valuing him and he wasn’t valuing me. I think the only time that we didn’t fight was the last month we had before he deployed. We were so happy. We spent our time together watching movies, playing card games, playing video games, just being the same kids we were before we got married. I miss those days sometimes. I wish I could turn back time and do things differently. Now the hard part. The divorce. I never wanted to be divorced. He was/still is my person. The person who understands you to the core. The person that you can be yourself without shame or guilt. The person that your heart beats from no matter how much it hurts when they break it or damage it. The person that you picked in a room filled with people who you have loved in the past/future. He is that person. My ex deployed and was gone for six months. Three months into the deployment he stopped calling me, he stopped snapping me, he stopped talking to me. It felt like he shut down on me. I begged him to call me or anything. We went through a dark phase. Then he got back to the states and we were good for a while. He came to visit his mom for Christmas through new years. Our anniversary was the 30th of December. His mother lives 4 hours away from my parents house where I was staying while he was away. He didn’t bother to spend our anniversary together or even bother to say happy anniversary. Which killed me inside. On New Year’s Day I sent him a message that it seemed that he didn’t want me in his life anymore so I was setting him free. But on his way back to Texas he and I talked and we were going to make it work but 8 days later. He met a girl. He hide our marriage status, archived post that he made of me, and hid our pictures. Which made me think he did the same thing he did when I was away. I decided that I wasn’t going to stand for it so I asked him to file for divorce. He agreed. It was a little messy. I found pictures of him and this girl on a romantic date, he got dressed up in a suit, had a picture of her on his lap. So much which set me off and I became petty and tried to fuck him over with the army for it. This is where things get complicated. This week I had to go to separate our things because he had everything in a storage unit. When I got there we were polite to each other and we talked to each other. He explained to me that nothing happened with that girl. They went with a group but only made a reservation for two, she was awake for the picture of her hand on his lap, she was wearing the same clothes from that night in the morning cause she slept in them but she didn’t sleep at his apartment, and that she knew what was going on. Which I don’t know what to believe. I want to believe him and I kinda do believe him but I don’t know. I love him but everyone around me telling me to not believe him. I was a mess for months when things were going wrong between us. I didn’t want to lose him but I feel like I lost him. He said we can be friends. I want him in my life but I always want to be us again. I know in my heart that I can never really move on from him. I always want him in my life but I don’t know what to do or what to believe. My parents hate him because they believe he is a liar and will constantly hurt me but they say a tons of things that weren’t true. I just want an unbiased opinion from people who don’t know the shit I said while I was mad or sad. There’s a lot that happened this week with him but it’s been long story already I can explain more in the comments

Hello I’m a bit new to the world of ps’s and am looking for advice please don’t be too harsh I am not the most knowledgeable In this category.
Having trouble booting my pc, tower itself and everything inside turns on but I’m not getting any display. Only time I can get display is if I take the CMOS battery out for a few seconds and put it back in and then try and power it on. LED indicators cycle and then the white one stays on (unless I remove the CMOS and get display, and before you ask I use HDMI not VGA) Even then the display is the setup screen and I have to go through the setup screen to get to the windows Lock Screen. From there I can use the pc like normal but as soon as I go to put it to sleep or shut it down the monitors will shut off but the tower will stay running until I manually shut it off.
Nothing I find tells me for sure what the light means, and yes I’ve checked and checked all the wires and cords and and RAM and everything so please don’t tell me it’s that, cause it isn’t. Only other possibility I’m getting is a problem with the graphics card and that’s understandable cause the pc is second hand and like 7 years old but I want to make sure that’s the most likely possibility before I go spending the money on a new one.
Any tips are appreciated please and thank you!

I (18F) have always known my dad (53M) wasn’t the most healthy person in the world. For some context on my family and to make sure it’s a whole picture i’m basically going to trauma dump, so TW for sexual assault i guess? When i was two he and my mom(48F) got a divorce because he was using drugs and alcohol to cope with some of his past traumas, while never putting in any work to get past them. After the divorce he ended up being put in prison after receiving multiple DUI’s (im not entirely sure how it happened exactly, i was two or three when he was locked up) and it got him locked up till I was six. My mom, despite having every reason to speak badly of my father, never said anything negative about him. She would take me to visit him, let me read the letters he sent me (when i actually could read, and she would write my replies down for me), and always let me talk to him when he called. We lived with my grandparents while he was locked up. After he got out he spent a long time working to get past his unhealthy coping mechanisms. He lives with his parents for two years and i would visit often. When i was eight he finally had a stable enough job to have both me and my mother move back in with him. I was young, and stupid, and when they asked me if i was okay with it I said yes. We moved into a single wide mobile home in my dad’s home town. My entire life was uprooted and replanted. I began classes in my new school and was bullied for most of my time there. I was told to “suck it up, bullies aren’t that bad.” even though in middle school i was pushed down a very steep flight of stairs and almost broke my arm. My grades began slipping and i went from a gifted child to a burn out really quick. My dad would yell at me and my mom for my grades, then get mad when i couldn’t understand how explained something to me. By thirteen i was suicidal and it was “an attempt to get attention” according to my dad. He had begun to pick fights with my mom over the littlest things. The house wasn’t clean enough, she didn’t make dinner fast enough, my room was a mess. (it was the size of a medium sized walk in closet.) And then my older (half) brother moved in with us. He (32M, let’s call him Michael) had never had a stable life and my dad coddled him because he felt like he had failed him. He had, but Michael was always a screwed up dude, so it only added into it. Anyways, over the course of the next three years my older brother would come to sexually assault me about five times over the next three years. We ended up moving into a larger house when i was about fifteen and i ended up going into counseling and learning that i had been groomed and conditioned to be basically unaware of the trauma inflicted on my by my brother since i was a kid. My dad, when i was seven and my brother a teenager, would turn a blind eye to Michael basically bashing my head into the island counter whenever he would steal something like food from me. My grandparents would always intervene and he would call me a whiner. At night he would tell me all sorts of things and make it seem like he was my only friend in the world. He kept doing it my entire life. My father, who had stopped drinking, had begun again because my grandfather was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and has been fighting for him life since, it’s been about eight years i think since they had to pull him out of remission because the cancer came back. This is when he really became a nightmare. Depending on what type of alchohol he drinks his mood goes a few ways. Whiskey and he gets angry. Tequila and he gets all sappy and lovey dovey(this makes me very uncomfortable because he hasn’t ever been very openly affectionate), beer and he’s just a happy drunk, and wine and he gets sad. Sometimes it switches up but normally this is how it goes. After i finally told my parents about my brother and what he had done and him getting kicked out, he began to bury himself in alcohol. I had to get over it fast because he was blaming anyone within pissing distance. Eventually he would cry to me about how he had failed him son, to the daughter that his son had raped. it was really fucked up, and he only ever said that when he was drunk. (I want to say that my dad isn’t an inherently terrible person, he didn’t have a good life growing up and generational trauma hits hard.)He has been using drinking as a way to escape reality for a long time. It’s caused a great deal of arguments and both of my parents asking “what they do to deserve this” while my dad accuses me of treating him like garbage (he says the same thing to my mom). We’ve had to leave the house and spend a few days with other people before because i was scared he was going to hit us instead of the walls next time, multiple times. The most recent bought of fighting has been happening over the last three days. (for more context i moved out right after i turned eighteen, i became a manager at my workplace and was able to live with friends) I’ve been visiting my family and spending time with them since i haven’t really had time the past few months. I guess my mom found out that he had been receiving nudes from other women on messenger and wanted AT LEAST an apology. My dad blamed it on a married friend who was using his phone. it was a lie because he’s been receiving them almost every day. and commenting on them. it makes me sick to think about. he has begun blaming my mom for it. saying she ruined our old house, that she has to one up him, and saying “do you really wanna go there?” while he was the one who fucked up. After screaming at each other for nearly an hour he said he wanted to break up. My mom spiraled and wanted to kill herself. Her psychiatrist that she had a tele-health call with that day, asked me to basically watch my mom to make sure she doesn’t kill herself. I took her pills and asked my dad to lock up his guns. he took this as her “one -upping him”. Yesterday while i was back at my apartment i got a call from my mom explaining that he had gotten drunk and had told her to kill herself. She had left and was at a bridge to watch the water. I drove back in a panic since i live a town over. Today, my father was drunk again and asked me to go spend time alone so he could screw my mom. I didn’t want to be there so i showered and got ready to leave. Turns out their conversation had shifted and he was berating her for “not letting him discipline me”. I guess that after years of pent up anger never being touched on, i finally snapped and began yelling at him. I called him a hypocrite and he called me a bitch. And basically i left as he began to destroy things around the house. That was after i told him if he kept going this way i would cut contact. I’m currently sitting at our outdoor sports complex writing this because everyone i know is busy and i don’t want to bother them. I just needed to get it out. I don’t know if cutting contact is the right thing to do. Of if it makes me an asshole. I’m only eighteen. I don’t know what to do anymore.

I'm a 42 year old male, I met my wife when I was 18, she was 23 and we began 'dating' when I was 21, working a job I hated in the same place she worked (casino workers, if you know, you know). We hooked up at a Xmas party and started a very awkward relationship. I say awkward because we had some weird trouble having sex for the first like 6 months... it's odd when I think back on it, should have been a huge red flag but she was draped in reg flags the entire time and it didn't seem matter to me. Aside from that, when we finally did have sex she got pregnant... she was not at all ready, neither was I really, but are you ever? At any rate, I didn't have too much of say in it, she decided on an abortion and I supported her. We stayed together after that horribly shitty experience, our relationship was never really all that good, lots of petty fighting/arguing and really the only reason it continued was because we worked opposite shifts and barely saw each other which made it easier to sorta get along.
Fast forward a couple years, we decide to buy a house because financially it made sense (this is almost 20 years ago so it was still affordable at that time), she made quite a bit of money, mostly in tips (so not on paper), but she probably made 2-3 times as much as I did so she never really struggled financially (in her life I don't think) while I came out of poverty and lived paycheck to paycheck up until a few years ago (the pandemic was surprisingly good for my career). This was never really an issue for me, I've lived in debt my whole life and I've always had the optimism that I would eventually work my way out of it, it's really the only bit of confidence I have in myself, my ability to learn and become relatively good at almost anything. This was always a point of contention, my wife hated that I had debt so when we bought the house together we were asked if we wanted a joint bank account as most couples combine their finances with cohabitation, my wife scoffed and adamantly told the banker there was no way she's mixing her finances with mine, it was relatively embarrassing at the time but I was also just 25 (she was 30) so I went along with whatever, it was going to be slightly cheaper for me to pay a mortgage than rent at the time so I was in and she'd cover bills. Things were never that great when living together, things must have been good enough for me to stay but I only look back with anger now so it's hard to see anything good but I'm sure there must have been some.
Fast forward another couple years and I feel extremely pressured (by her and her family mostly, they're old fashioned country type folks) to ask her to marry me... so I do. We stay engaged for another few years, I have no desire to waste a bunch on money on a wedding but she's the one with money so we have the big wedding she wanted. I'll admit it was a pretty great party, I don't remember anything good involving her on our wedding day but I have lots of good memories with family and friends. Afterwards we went on a 'romantic' honeymoon at an all-inclusive tropical resort and this is where I'll get into a bit of what I've dealt with for years... our resort was gorgeous, room was nice, just a room but nice... first thing my wife did was complain, about everything, the bed, the fridge, the lights, the balcony... nothing was good enough for her, this would become a common theme for the next decade plus. We also did not have sex on our honeymoon, she was far too busy complaining and being angry for us to ever get in the 'mood', this would be more foreshadowing of what's to come.
Now, this might seem like I'm building up to her becoming really bad after getting married but that's not really the case... she was just as bad before, it didn't really get worse, it just became more noticeable... or maybe I just tolerated things more in the beginning. The truth is when I look back, there were so many signs, she casually put me down and basically treated me like a child from day one, something I just accepted because looking back, I was a fucking child when we got together... she was not really, five years my senior, and she very much took advantage of that dynamic. Over the years she slowly went about convincing me that the things I wanted were silly/ridiculous and that I should want what she wanted (the nice lawn, the house, kids, etc., etc.) because everyone should. I never wanted these things.
I won't get into details here because I could write a novel on the insane shit I've dealt with over the last 20 years that could prove this, but I did do a lot of research in the last few years and have come to the conclusion that she could have BPD with narcissistic traits... I'm obviously not a doctor so it's definitely not a diagnosis or anything but she ticks almost every box from the many many things I've read on the subject, so if you have a moment and you don't know what BPD is I suggest googling it. It's pretty terrible but it might give you a better idea of my life.
At any rate, I dug myself deeper and deeper, thinking that every next move would finally make her happy and bring me some kind of peace, so we had a child about a year after we were married. This is where it gets really tricky... I sincerely regret having a child with this woman, especially because she is not at all "cut out to be a mother" (her words, not mine) but her mother had been sick on and off with cancer for a few years and her older sister couldn't have children so she felt obligated to give her mom a grandchild, bad reasons all around to have a child. That being said, I love my son more than anything in the world. As much as I wish we did not bring him into this horrible world, he's still the very best thing to happen to me and I will take care of him and love him for the rest of my life no matter what.
I should mention, since I've eluded to it, I've always had self-esteem issues, goes all the way back to having acne problems in high school but my wife has methodically picked away at my confidence and self-esteem over the years, cutting me down to this very day... to the point that I feel very much worthless. I know that I'm not, I know I deserve better but another fun thing about my wife is her desperate need for sympathy... So, not only does she make me feel horrible about myself, she also manages to make me feel horrible FOR her... she's overweight, and I'm sure has low self-esteem herself but she has decided to take it out on others rather than internalize and try to make things better for herself. She would rather blame others for any of her short comings, I guess it's easier to convince yourself you can't do anything about it when it's someone else fault.
I apologize, because I feel like I'm a bit all over the place but I guess I'm just trying to set the scene for where I'm at now and give just a small glimpse of the hell I've been living in and how I got here...
The first few years of my sons life were pretty great (comparatively at least), honestly it was probably the best we've ever gotten along, probably because most of my focus (and hers) was on our son. Unfortunately, her mother passed away just after my son's first birthday, this was obviously devastating for her, not unexpected but still devastating. We're lucky in Canada because she had a full year maternity leave and was able to spend time with her mom. She took it very hard, and decided to stay off work for an additional 4-6 months (can't remember exactly). This was all fine and understandable, I supported her through all of it, financially and emotionally. Once she went back to work, this is when things took a real nose dive... she has always been a very entitled person but upon going back to work (part time I should mention) she decided everything was horrible for her so she was going to make it horrible for everyone around her. This went on for around 4-5 years (again, the time frames get fuzzy because it's been so long), it was hell. I really just plowed through for our son, I made him my main focus and I took care of everything. Without going into it too much, I sort of shifted gears with my job and focused on finding something that worked better for raising a kid, I got onto a full time day shift (unheard in the casino world) and we worked opposite shifts. It was pretty good for child care (that we couldn't afford) as one of us was always home. This made her more contentious... again, going back to the entitled thing, she felt it wasn't 'fair' for me to work a good shift, she should be the one doing that. I eventually worked my way out of casinos and into a work from home job (before COVID) and it was great, she could work whatever shift she had to and I would always be around for our son.
Fast forward again, my son's in school, she's still super angry at life and making things hellish but I do my best to make it good for our son. It's difficult to keep a smile on with him while putting up with temper tantrums and fits from my wife... yes, we had a toddler and she was the one who threw fits. For an example, I can recall one specific Xmas where my son and I were playing video games which is his biggest interest, something she absolutely hates, and she made a few comments about how we should be doing family things together for Xmas (it was Xmas eve), so my son and I got off the computer and played a board game in the living room... nice and wholesome fun I thought. My wife throws a fit, full on screaming and slamming things around, I don't even remember what for exactly, it happens so often I can't keep track anymore. Her temper tantrum ends with her storming off and slamming the door to her room. I'll never forget looking at my son right after, him tearing up a bit and asking me "what is wrong mom?" and I just said "I'm really sorry buddy, I don't know" and we hugged... I cried a lot about that that night, one of many times I would have to apologize for her and the way she acts around him. This is just one small example and a terrible Xmas memory that I'll always have, hopefully my son won't. I think the worst part of these 'tantrums' is that she can almost always justify them, only to herself really but usually by blaming me or my son for "making her so upset" or worse, blaming some inanimate object for "not working how it should".
Fast forward to now(ish)... I've basically lived in my basement for the last 5 years, my office and bedroom are there, I stay down there to avoid my wife as much as possible but it feels like a prison cell now. I've retreated from life in general over the years too, I've always been a pretty anti-social introvert, I prefer quiet one on one conversations rather than group settings. Most of my 'friends' over the last 10-15 years revolved around my job (casinos take over your life people, for real) and my wife, I slowly lost any friends that had no connection to her. This was partially due to me retreating and the fact that my wife would insert herself into any friendship that was just mine to the point that I sort shut those people out to avoid them having to deal with her. Sadly, I don't have friends anymore (didn't have many to begin with but still), my son is essentially my only friend and because I work from home by myself I rarely talk to any other adults. My wife and I talk only when necessary... I cannot make eye contact with her anymore. This is probably needless to say but we haven't had sex in over 6 and a half years and I don't cheat, I don't have the confidence, so I've just accepted that I'm celibate now.
One other area of contention that I feel I should explain since I've mentioned it already, through the pandemic there was a serious power shift, financially speaking. She essentially lost her job and is now in a lower paying part time job (more realistic pay compared to her previous job), whereas I made a couple job changes that bumped me up well ahead of her. For comparison, the salaries essentially flipped, almost exactly... to where I make 2-3 times what she makes. This has become an area of contention because this was something she was able to lord over me for the majority of our relationship, she spent money freely while I paid the mortgage and barely ate for the first 5 years we lived in the house but now, for the first time in her life she has to pay attention to her finances and watch her spending... she does not like this so it's just another thing to constantly complain about and make passive aggressive comments about the things that 'dad' can afford to do/buy but doesn't (mainly because I'm paying the mortgage and all the bills now while finally paying down some debt).
Oh, I should probably also mention that it's a regular thing for her to insult me and put me down in front of our son and on flip side of that she also uses him to garner sympathy from me ("shouldn't daddy feel bad mommy has to go to work?") it's very frustrating because I just want to protect my kid but I guess she knows that.
Again, I'll apologize for how disjointed this all is... the more I type, the more I think about shit to type... like I mentioned, I could write a novel on this, mostly because I have no real outlet, just sit in my basement talking to myself about it all... or I guess stewing in it.
So, I guess I should try to finish off with what exactly the advice is that I'm seeking... I essentially hate my wife, the word I use often is 'despise' and over the years we've had brief conversations where I've told her that "I'm done and I'm just here for the kid" and unfortunately she took this as push to work on our marriage harder and 'fix' things, far too little, too late. She makes me feel like the worse person in the world and yet I just can't bring myself to say to her face that I want a divorce... I feel sorry for her, fuck so much so that I bought a house with her, married her, and had a fucking kid with her... I'm sure that's not the case, I must have loved her at one point but I just can't see it anymore. I don't know why I can't say it to her, why I can't just end this... I'm so worried about how she'll react, what she'll do to me, to my kid... how she'll try and turn him against me. I'm just paralyzed with the fear of what could/will happen if I tell her we're getting a divorce.
I've made plans over the last few years to move out, rent an apartment for me and my kid and just continue to pay her bills until we can sell the house and split the profit. I can't afford to do this, it would cause me to go back into debt but I do not care, it would be worth it to get away from her. I have set deadline after deadline... "I'll do it after Xmas" or "after her birthday" or "before my birthday" and these days come and go and I just can't do it... I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, it's like I just don't want to hurt her, even though I'm hurting her by not ending things and she definitely doesn't give a shit about hurting me... I just don't want to face her and deal with it and how she will make the aftermath hell.. and I worry so much about my son, it would have been so much better for him if I would have divorced her years ago, he's fucking 10 now... another fear is having to explain it to him but we're setting a horrible example. One of my wife's favourite ways to use our son against me, is planting it in his head that "family is all that matters", focusing specifically on our little family, and how we have to "stick together no matter what, that's what family does". It's such an underhanded way to prep him for hating me because I'm "breaking up our family".
I would appreciate any advice on how the hell I can get over my paralyzing fear and just end this marriage or maybe you wanna come over and end it for me? I'm at a point where I'd take that... as I mentioned I've not shared most of this with anyone... so feedback would be a really new thing for me.
Oh, and please feel free to call me chicken shit, and tell me I just need to grow a pair and get this done... it's the same thing I've been saying to myself for years, not helpful but I understand the sentiment.
Shit... I'm sorry, this turned into a novel. Thank you.

Its been over 14 years since my dad died now, 18 since my mom. It's hard to believe it's been this long, some days it feels like its been just a couple months since I buried my dad. Most of the time it feels like an entirely different life, not just in another time but another universe altogether. It's taken me all of that nearly decade and a half just to get to this point where I’m able to really delve into the damage that losing my mom and dad caused me. I’ve been with the same therapist for almost a year, lost 85 lbs, got my finances and career on track.
It finally feels like I’m actually putting the pieces of my life back together. There’s still a lot of pieces missing and sometimes I feel like I’m running around in circles looking for them. I still feel sometimes I don’t know which direction to go in and wish my parents were here to give me some guidance, to have them here watching my back so I can move forward.
Don’t really know why I’m writing this. I guess part of this goes out to those of you are still close to the beginning of this loss. I hope it doesn’t take y'all as long as it's taken me, but if it does keep the hope alive cause it can get better.
Guess another part is I just want to tell folks that’d understand what it's been like that I’m doing better. In a way it's like telling them.
Really I just want to say how much I appreciate this community and you guys sharing your own stories. It's a really tough break we got, but at the very least knowing there’s folks out there that understand what I’ve experienced, it lends a bit of meaning to a pretty shitty situation. So thank you all.
And thanks for listening and keep hanging on

I’m 25M, 235 lbs, 5’11, I vape and drink alcohol about 3-4 times a week. No current medications but will take ibuprofen 800mg for back pain as needed.
These last few years I would get chest aches but it was never anything crazy. I can tell I get these aches when I am under extreme stress, I am easily irritable and get angry fast.
I went to bed to at about 3am last night, I was gaming until that time and had a 24oz Coors banquet.
Around 7am I woke up to an intense pain and while I was half asleep I know it was extremely painful and felt like my chest was caving into me. I was loud and woke my wife up.
I’m transitioning out of the military soon and have a lot of personal things going on that cause me stress. I don’t know if this is something I should go to the ER for? I had minor aches today but nothing crazy.

Basically there's an AC unit that last summer killed me and made me unable to sleep, and now it's back. So I'm preparing myself and earplugs unfortunately enlarged my ear canal,causing itching. So if I'm going custom might as well get IEMs. More reliable then ANC, not as much battery consumption.
What are some good options that ideally don't go deep inside my ear? Even wired is perfectly fine, means I won't have to replace batteries.
Thanks a lot

As a trauma surgeon, my days are often filled with the unexpected, but yesterday's shift was particularly memorable. We received an urgent call from the ED about a patient who had been brought in via EMS following a traumatic incident. He had a significant laceration on his forehead and a skull fracture. When I first approached him to assess his condition, his eyes were strikingly wide with that unmistakable startle look, the kind that tells you they've just witnessed something profoundly shocking.
Attempting to converse with him initially led nowhere; he was disturbingly quiet, almost distant. I began to suspect this might be a straightforward acute psychosis case until I reviewed his chart—no history of psychiatric issues whatsoever. He had a stable career, wife and kid at home. He recounted his drive home, during which he became entangled in a bizarre road rage altercation. According to him, when he stepped out of his car, the confrontation escalated verbally. Suddenly, his opponent, "with the pressure of a fire hose," sprayed water straight into his face from his mouth. The force was so unexpected and strong that it knocked him back, rendering him unconscious as his head struck the car door.
The CT scan revealed a multi-level compression fracture in his neck, consistent with a whiplash injury, aligning with the patient's narrative. I took him to the operating room where we performed a stabilization procedure, inserting screws and plates to secure the fractures. A psychiatric consultation determined he wasn't acutely psychotic, suggesting potential PTSD and recommending medication, though they saw no need for inpatient psychiatric care.
This morning, the patient was anxious to leave, though still under my care on his first postoperative day. Our second conversation was more coherent; he was stoic yet rational, he now has little to no recollection of what happened. The EMS run report noted two vehicles at the scene but no visible damage to either. His car was soaked inside and out, as if it had been through a car wash with all of the windows rolled down, aligning bizarrely with his account of the confrontation.
When he woke up, the EMS mentioned he kept describing his assailant, he mentioned a very tall man, "at least seven feet tall," with a long face, blond hair, and exceptionally deep blue eyes. This entity had a calm demeanor unlike any he had ever seen. Curious and concerned, I reached out to a detective I know well due to my line of work. The detective's feedback was intriguing; while initial police reports leaned towards disbelief, witness statements were peculiar. They confirmed the two cars but claimed the victim appeared to be arguing with someone who wasn't there. Moments later, he was violently thrown against his car amidst a surreal amount of water flooding the scene.
What makes it even more interesting, there is surveillance evidence of this entire encounter. The detective has ghosted me all day about reviewing it. No clue if I’ll ever get to see it. But if I do, I’ll report my findings and possibly get consent to post it here.
Thanks for reading!

 * * * * * * * 

I'm not sure where this goes from here. I was involved in a car accident a week ago when a driver switching lanes hit me while I was driving in the lane he was switching to. I have more damage in the front of my car then he has. He has scrapes on his back passenger fender and a few scrapes on that rim. That's it. We disagree with who caused the accident. My insurance company says that because no police report was filed, they refused to come out when nobody was injured, then they closed the claim because it being word versus word. Their insurance company says I am liable, which is ridiculous. What happens from here? Nobody was injured, both cars have very minimal damage, his just a little less than mine. My insurance company will not pay for his damages. His insurance company concluded that I'm liable. What do I do? What can I do and what might happen? I'm going to fix my car in the meantime. Thank you.

This is tagged as a Spoiler, but only if you haven’t watched Season 3 Part 1 yet-
So I have seen a lot of conversation about whether or not Penelope and Colin’s relationship has felt rushed so far. Personally, I feel like the relationship this season does feel a bit awkwardly paced and I’m going to explain my reasonings.
A big argument used for why their relationship isn’t rushed is that it’s been in development for 2 seasons. I’m sorry, you mean Penelope’s unrequited love for Colin?? That’s not really development, I mean Penelope’s relationship to Colin in the beginning of season 3 is the same as it is in the beginning of season 1… unrequited, nothing has developed or changed on that end other than her overhearing his hurtful words about her. So I don’t really think their relationship being stalled at that stage for 2 seasons means that it can’t be rushed once it is being developed. In fact I rather feel it’s the opposite because when you sort of build up that anticipation around certain characters over multiple seasons, you better be able to make that payout satisfying. (Think of like HIMYM, lot of build up for a horrible last 6 episodes😂)
And those arguing- actually it just went over y’all’s head, Colin has had feelings for Penelope all along, he just didn’t realize…yeah, seemed like it when he proposed to that other girl, or told his bros he would never court her💀like yes, I get it- He sought her out, and wrote to her, and enjoyed hanging out with her, but the boy was oblivious, and I really needed more from him this season to make up for that fact.
Another thing that bugs me-
Colin has gotten a lot of credit in the show this season for helping Penelope on the Marriage Mart…like I need the writers to be so for real with me, what has Colin actually done to help Penelope draw in a suitor besides himself??💀because from my perspective, he’s done quite the opposite….

• He criticized her behind her back to eligible bachelors and told them he would never think courting her even though she was his friend.
• His plan to “train” her by himself in his house (that she was hesitant about) caused her to be caught in scandal that the whole ton found out about
• He literally destroyed her chance with her one other potential prospect before even knowing if she actually wanted to be with him over the other guy

So really Penelope should be at least a little pissed at Colin. For me, this would add the tension that I feel this story is missing. Something maybe like…

• Colin interrupts Penelope and Lord Debling, and Lord Debling finds out about their potential love from Cressida
• Penelope gets rejected by Lord Debling because of her potential love for Colin and she leaves the ball super upset
• Colin chases after her and ends up confessing even though she is clearly upset at him
• Penelope is all like “How dare you?! I have loved you for years, and have waited for the day that you would see me as more than just your friend, but the minute I finally resign myself to never being anything more to you, to find a lifelong companion in someone else, you ruin my chance…and for what?? I cannot be some passing fade for you like those women in your journal, like Marina…my heart could not handle it! Thank you for your help, but no thank you. I will find a husband by the end of this season and it won’t be because Colin Bridgerton took pity on me…”
• So we have a double confession, and Colin knows that Penelope has feelings for him, but he has to prove to her how series he actually is. This adds tension, he has to pine and grovel.
• And he is doing some real like public declaration of love type of stuff to try and win her over and show her how much he cares and how sorry he is for the stuff he did/said before.
• This kind of works in her favor because she actually managed to pull in a couple of new prospects because of a Bridgerton now being after her. Maybe she even writes about it as Lady Whistledown to help boost her prospects.
• Then obviously it reaches a point where she realizes he’s completely serious and devoted to her, and she doesn’t want to give him up either, and she accepts his proposal.

I think something like this would have been a lot more satisfying than him being kind of oblivious until episode 3 where he realizes he likes her and proposes to her one episode later, and her immediately accepting despite being mad at him 2 minutes earlier.
Of course another big argument people make is- “well the people complaining haven’t read the books because this is exactly how it happens” and to that I say- My criticism isn’t about whether it’s accurate to the books or not, it’s about whether the story is satisfying. So say it is exactly like the books, then I guess I’m criticizing the book too😂
Anyways, please feel free to comment your agreement or disagreement, I would love to hear other’s opinions on this topic!

The Context:

A user posts to /BoomersBeingFools wondering if boomers don’t eat enough and are “starving” themselves, and by extension pushing their expectations unfairly onto others.
Many users quickly take issue with OOP’s premise. The discussion quickly devolves into multiple slapfights, insults over weight, and the war in Gaza.

The Drama:

Does metabolism change as people age?

People commenting it’s cause they’re older and don’t need to eat as much. Yes, I know that could be a part of it, but let’s be honest, it’s mostly them just being judgy/brainwashed by diet culture/think it’s absurd to spend money on eating out…

"Brainwashed by diet culture" ah so in other words you are obese and need to eat a lot and probably deeply into healthy at any size/fat acceptance.
No they just know they don't need 5000 calori3s a day to exist.

I’m obese for wanting to eat some lunch and dinner? 🤯

No I say that because of "brainwashed by diet culture" there's exactly one group that talks like that.

You must not get out much

[Continued:]

I do actually it's how I maintain not being fat. Limiting calories to under 2500 and being outside moving a lot.

I lost 140 pounds by eating more. 🤷 starving myself led to weight gain.

I'm sure you eat more but less calories in total. No one increases their calories and losses sorry.

You're wrong. Instunted my metabolism and my body was holding on to the weight to protect me.
I was eating skinless baked chicken and plain broccoli for 2 years and could not lose weight. I was sick and exhausted but worked out all the time.
Started eating carbs and the weight came melting off.
Sorry :)

[Continued:]

For sure. Thats why all the body builders are morbidly obese. They eat chicken and broccoli and their body just goes into starvation mode and holds all the fat. Same with like the concentration camps. All those poor morbidly obese starving people. Once we saved them and fed them the weight just shed off. It's the craziest thing.

It's almost like bodies are different, user name doesn't check out, a nerd would know that 🤔

Whatever you need to tell yourself.

[…]

i guess the law of thermodymanics doesnt apply to you.
You should get studied. Defying the laws of thermodynamics is pretty impressive!

[…]

Tell me you see someone fat in the store and cringe inside/judge them for no reason without ever speaking to them without telling me 😂
You dislike/hate fat people for the horrid crime of being fat when they don't think about you at all and haven't ever wronged you in any way at all.
Also, I can tell you have never struggled with your weight in the past due to not giving a shit how hating random people for looking a certain way effects them. That, or you did struggle once, and bought into the haters telling you you were worth less based on the number on the scale, in which case I am sorry you believe that.

Dude I was 350lbs at my heaviest. People love saying "oh he says weightloss is eat less move more? Clearly he wants to genocide fat people" but no that's not it at all. I lost tons and most of the people around me went from morbid obesity to overweight or a normal weight. We changed our lifestyles and got in shape. The people that didn't lose weight claim all kinds of medical issues but none of them changed their diet and not of them want to work out. It's pretty clear how to lose weight. That's all.
No more no less no hate.

Wanna know how I know you're a liar or incredibly ignorant of how you come off?
You say you don't dislike them but make fun of their physical disabilities like it's funny. It's not funny. You're making fun of them. It's not funny to make fun of people for having disabilities or for how they look. You perpetuate hate against them that makes them feel like crap for being alive. I don't care about your spiel about medical issues or dieting in general or the fat acceptance movement. When you make fun of disabled people who have trouble walking i'm going to call you out on it. That's exactly what you did. Whether they're fat or not I refuse to make fun of people for that.

I have never made fun of a single person. Only a movement that claims you can be healthy at any size. You can't be vastly under or over weight and be healthy.

Whatever you say buddy. Keep on making fun of people because they can't walk or cope some more that it wasn't directed at a specific person. Have fun with that.

[Continued:]

Shut the fuck up fatty

Insults are made, ending with accusations of sockpuppeting:

I don't think you realize how pathetic you sound. When my jaw was broken I went 6 weeks without solid food and I'm sitting here rolling my eyes at your propensity for letting your stomach color your opinions of other people. I'd bet dollars to dimes that your body mass index is over 30.

Hey.
You should know:
It costs $0 to not be a dick.

I'll pay that cover charge any day of the week. Especially when I'm dealing with a major league dipshit like [Candy_cane999]
Radagast was brown, nerd.

Wow, you’re disgusting. It’s not that deep

Says the person here gossiping about their relative's metabolism. "Not that deep" lol you made a judgment about an entire generation of people because your family member wasn't hungry..lol fuck off
I bet you are high as a kite right now from all the users here agreeing with you, even if they haven't a fucking clue what they are talking about.
Seriously, though, how fat are you? I'm guessing fat enough that you can't hide that stomach roll when you sit down.

High as a kite? Huh? Relax weirdo, it’s just Reddit

You still haven't told us how fat you are.

Damn this guy hates fat people !

I used to be one.

[Continued:]

So now you just hate fat people for fun?

People with no self control, ESPECIALLY when that self control would benefit their health, are people who are functionally useless as human beings. They are the pieces of shit who would hoard food while everyone else is starving.
It ain't for fun.
Do you comment on Reddit to be an annoying middle child?

Ahhh yes. The fat people are useless excuse. Okay bud have fun out there!

It seems you have to self control over your feelings little guy. Go out there and practice some self control!
Bitter, party of one.

[…]

Get a life, chill

Get a life, chill

Ah yes, the mating call of people who "have lives"...ohhhhhh the irony.

😂sounds like you’re projecting. What’s it like still living in your boomer mom’s basement?

lol "projecting", I see you have your masters in Reddit psychology.

What’s it like still living in your boomer mom’s basement?

Oooooof, sounds like someone is...................................................................................projecting.

You do realize calling someone fat is the easiest most insecure insult to throw out there. Classic textbook. Hypocrite

I used to be fat as fuck, 270lbs at 5'10. I'll judge you fatties all I damn well please.
You keep avoiding answering the question. You're a landwhale, aren't you?

Ahha! There it is. It’s because you hate yourself. Hope you’re in therapy

[Continued:]

The more you avoid this the more we know what kind of person we are dealing with.
You talk shit about people who have self control to excuse how fat and disgusting you are.

[…]

Dude why admit that, all you are showing is that you had become really fat, and rather than learn a healthy relationship with food even at that extreme point, you just chose to hate food in general. You took the easy way out because nobody ever taught you portion control. Your loss I guess.

I admit it because I was raised in a home where I couldn't get up until my plate was clean and my mother made sure there were never leftovers that way. I admit it because it is the truth and I don't lie or omit details to make myself sound better. I admit it to show I can relate to being a fatfuck. I admit it because being fat is a choice.
”why would you say something true about yourself!?" - if that isn't Reddit-in-a-nutshell I don't know what is.

I'm just saying it makes you look like you just hated yourself and were pushing that onto another person that may or may not have a healthier relationship with food than you, that's all.

[…]

They didn't answer did they?

After several attempts they've avoided even talking about their fat stores and are now trying the victim angle.

No doubt. Fatty McFat Fat can't comprehend people not being addicted to constant feedings.
Reddit in a nutshell.

Bro's talking to himself on an alt ​

Then, there’s this:

OP is a fat fuck

As a former fatass this was my immediate thought

I knew as soon as he said road trip to Florida

For wanting lunch and dinner? You’re sick
They’re someone whos whole identity is shoving food in their mouth. Look at their username

Eat shit.

One user thinks they’re speaking uncomfortable truths:

If StandardSafe isn’t willing to say it again, I will: grow up and get over it. 99% of the people who say they “aren’t heavy” actually are, your dad was probably just being a concerned parent. “unhealthy relationship with food”, LMAO. A first-world problem for sure

No, he was just a bully and abusive. But thanks for playing.
That’s a really weird thing to say to a stranger, dude
You ok bro? Did that make you feel good about yourself? To insult a stranger because you personally didn’t have to deal with abuse? Or let me guess, you did, but it made you a “strong man” who knows what’s best for everyone.
You don’t know me. You have no idea what my childhood and young adulthood was like and maybe it sounds like a “first world problem” (which by the way, is so fucking dismissive and gross to say to people when they an issue) to you, but for me it became an eating disorder that I still struggle with in my 40s.
I’m going to try to say this as politely as I can, please fuck off into the sun with your bullshit and go troll somewhere else. You’re an asshole who seems to get off on insulting people to get your pathetic dick hard. I hope you don’t have kids because I worry if you do how fucked up they are and if you’re married I feel terrible for your wife. But let’s be honest, you’re a sad, lonely, angry man who has nothing better to do.
Dumbass takes like this are part of the reason people develop eating disorders on both ends of the spectrum.
You're gonna tell me someone who is suffering from Anorexia/Bulimia just needs to "grow up and get over it"?
You need to grow up and take a biology class.

When did the commenter say she had anorexia/bulimia? Those are actual eating disorders…she just said she eats very little and blames her dad.
A biology class, really? Psychology sounds more like it. Or are you telling me you learned about eating disorders in a bio class? Where was that, at some sort of school that gives out certificates in self-actualization or holistic-healing?

Sorry -- from what school did you get a psychology degree that allows you to label Anoerixa/Bulimia as "actual" eating disorders but not what OP described?

The school of hard knocks 😂 he’s so superior to us that he can diagnose a stranger through the internet on Reddit based on a paragraph that seemed to make him bigly angry.
He’s just a sad man who needs to get off by insulting people. He can go live that life and we’ll be over on this said being human to each other.

Finally, the war in Gaza is brought up for some reason:

You know that on the other side of the apartheid wall Israel set up there are thousands of people who had access to the Dead Sea (and their homes), that was changed by the establishment of Israel. Millions of people around the world are coming to the decision to boycott any company that supports the Israeli Apartheid Occupation. Millions are urging their universities and employers to divest any money and programs with the genocidal force that is Israel. I urge you and your family to take a hard look at yourselves and learn what Israel really is made of. Then the logical decision will be to never visit or spend a dime in Israel until their genocide and apartheid ends. Ty

Take a walk off a short pier.

This response is unhinged.
“Learn about an ongoing genocide, with bombs falling through the air as we speak, that you knowingly or unknowingly support, that we can do something about”
“Your response”
Please just look someone in the eyes today and remember what it means to be a human. Each of us is a library of life, and we’re constantly diminishing the value of each other as “enemies”.
I’d rather that than share air with someone who supports the ongoing genocide. Not for me, not for you, but for the kids and our collective humanity: please learn something new today.

You’re supporting the death of my family in Israel. Seriously, you’re a PoS

Before Israel was, there was Palestine. Palestine was for all. Muslims, Christians, and Jewish families all lived together. We all visited Jerusalem.
When Israel decided that only Jewish people would now be allowed in to these random borders drawn over Palestine, well, that should come off as racist. Now the Christian and Muslim Palestinians had their villages raided and their women raped by a well funded militia, before it became the IDF. This terrorised the Palestinians that lived in their homes, so they ran.
Then these homes were empty.
The land without people for the People without a land. Fabulous. Absolutely fabulous. The people that were born there were displaced by a terrorist militia, and now it was a land magically without a people.
And your family came in, and settled in “Israel”. A family out there has the keys to the very home your family lives in in Israel, although you’ve probably changed the locks by now.
But for generations this land fed them and protected them from the elements. All of a sudden it’s yours?
And the people Israel oppresses, the thousands of Palestinians that are in prison with no trial. Children and women Palestinians have been taken captive for over 70 years!! Where’s the outrage?
Are we not human?
When we say free Palestine from the river to the sea. It’s for everybody. Come by and buy my home. But please don’t show up with an armed force ready to exterminate me for refusing you the home my forefathers have called their own.
TLDR Israel is the fire nation in avatar the last airbender.
The best way I can put it is.. if a bunch of armed chickens showed up and kicked you and your family out of their homes, one day you might want to fight those armed chickens back instead of being homeless. Israel are the armed chickens

The Flairs:

• “We boomers don’t hungry as often as you gamers”
  
• “ok nerdguy 👍🏼”
  
• “Radagast was brown, nerd.”
  

So currently I work a four on four off shift pattern. Four days on are 12hr shifts in a sedentary role. On my four days off I hammer it right up to and sometimes a little bit beyond what's recoverable because I have four days off.
Routine at the moment is a bastardised 531 program for three of my four days off. I'm untrained following six months of depression. I've been working hard for the last 10 weeks since getting medicated for ADHD. It's night and day - I actually have consistency. I'm making decent progress and feeling stronger, looking better. I've been able to recomp at this point.
Gym days are as follows:
Day one: Deadlifts/overhead press then I work on accessory lifts mainly around the posterior chain.
Day two: Squats/bench press then accessory lifts based around my anterior chain.
Day three: Deadlifts/overhead press again with posterior chain accessories.
I'll alternative on each set of four off one set of four off it's as above, then the next will be squats/bench/anterior chain twice and DL/OHP/posterior chain once.
I also do around 5-6hrs of steady state easy cardio during that time. I use my four days working to recover. I'll do some light work with dead hangs, some pressups and pullups, static holds, some kettlebell work and a lot of stretching and some light walks.
I want to be the best cave diver I can be. I'm reaching the end of this cycle of building a good fitness base - I'm stronger, my cardio has improved.
So my goals are:

• Strengthen my back in general - it gets a hammering on a day out in the caves
• improve my cardio to lower my breathing rate and so I am better able to relax and get back to a resting heart rate to start the dive.
• Focus more on building endurance and strength in the muscles used on rope ascenders. Quads, glutes and a lot of upper body strength.

I'm approaching the time when I start to add more volume and also a program more aimed towards the activity I'm training for.
Hard carries into a cave with 40kg on my back so I might start with heavy farmers walks. We often rope into pitches and ascending a rope is hard work. The movements are very similar to climbing a rope so I'm thinking pull ups/narrow grip lat pulldowns and work on some squat variations. Rows and back extensions to strengthen my back.
I hit max heart rate getting the steel gas cylinders into a cave a lot.I'm going to dial down the zone 2 cardio and get a couple of HIIT sessions in a week. Cold water immersion for staying calm during the dive whilst under a lot of pressure.
Finning in the water comes from your ankles and calves so calve raises would work well too.
I'll continue with some dialled back compound exercises to maintain strength but that will already be a lot of volume.
What adjustments can I make to this plan? It's a very rough idea in my head and I've never programmed before so I need some advice or reading materials on getting this right.
Once properly structured, will this improve the areas I need to work on?

Hello! I just got my Janome MC 500e back after having it serviced and there is a black oil in the race (specifically in the area surrounding the bobbin wick). I’ve used 100+ q-tips trying to clean it out but it just keeps coming. It’s showing on my embroidery and causing thread breaks.
Any ideas what this could be or how to solve it?