Adderall lungs

Age: 35 Sex: female Height: 5'4" Weight: 230lb Race: White Primary Complaint: concerns of pneumonia During: 3 days No existing medical issues Adderall 30mg and Sertraline 100mg daily Occasional drinker Non smoker No recreational drug use I have not been outside of the country recently
Sunday, on mothers day, I started to feel malaise. Throat hurt too, fever started around 8pm. Continued into Monday, I was convinced it was viral as my kids just had gotten over a throat infection (herpangina) and I thought it was probably that. On and off all day Monday I was fevering with a sore throat. I decided to get a good look at my throat and behind one of my tonsils I saw white patches, so Tuesday morning I went to med express. They swabbed me, positive for strep throat and prescribed augmentin. My kids were swabbed last week but negative for strep. My issue is, I’m worried I waited too long and it’s progressed into something uglier? My lungs apparently sounded fine yesterday and oxygen levels were good at the doctors but I am finding it hard to breathe in deep and it hurts. My chest and back mainly, I can’t tell if its muscular as I also have an intense and productive cough. It’s worse when I lay down. I’m getting sweaty easily too. No fever though. Does this sound like pneumonia?

Hi everyone! I’m a 36 (F) looking to take charge of my health. I am 5’6” and just realized I’m 165 lbs. This is the heaviest I’ve ever been and I’m looking to take charge of my health… starting with my gut.
Some of my health background, I am on medication for anxiety, depression (low dose Buspirone, Escatalipram, and 10mg Adderall) . I get tired often and drink far too much coffee. I eat little dairy and meat and try to focus on vegetables, fruits, and whole grains. I’m frustrated because I still suffer from acne and some mild eczema/ dermatitis. Itchy scalp, etc. I’ve been tested for asthma and seem to have lower lung capacity but I don’t take any medication for it.
I’ve done a round of Colon Broom in the past but I didn’t really notice a difference. I’ve struggled with limited bowl movements in the past (once every 3-4 days ) but I find myself more regular ( every day to every other day). My labs always come back clear with occasional cholesterol teetering on high (usually due to eating before the doc visit).
I guess I’m not sure where to start. I feel like there is so much bad information out there it’s hard to tell what’s quality information. I am open to do a lab evaluation of my gut but I’d like some advice on where to start. Thanks!

This week I wrote an autobiographical account of my history with sleep paralysis, RLS, and hypnagogic hallucinations.
I was not sure where to share it. I added it and deleted it from a few subs. The only place it ended up was the creative writing sub, though.
And this appears to be the right spot! There are several themes but the hypnagogia is the focus. So it's quite long and probably no one reads it and that's fine. I just wanted to find somewhere to put it in case my experience could benefit someone.
⚠️ ⚠️ WARNING first part is scary and a bit gory... ⚠️ ⚠️

Childhood

The first time that I encountered sleep paralysis was when I was nine or ten. I woke up screaming, my mind gripped with the sensation of searing pain radiating from my left big toe. Though my mouth wasn't moving, I could hear my own blood-curdling cries, echoing through the darkness. An eerie orange glow spilled into the room, illuminating a sinister cauldron at the base of my bed, around which stood three squat witches. Their dark, smoky faces shifted and morphed constantly, eyes glowing red like embers recessed deeply into the shadows of their crawling flesh, jagged teeth gnashing along with their discordant laughter as roaches crawled from their mouths and disappeared into their black straw hair.
Each witch held their own dainty knife and fork, shaking along with their trembling bony hands, and one was slicing expertly down the center of my big toe with the impossibly sharp blade of their knife. I struggled to move my arms and legs, feeling as though I had freedom of movement, but my physical body remained paralyzed. Unfathomable terror washed over me as I realized that I couldn't scream for help; my mom wouldn't hear me, and I was powerless to stop these witches from feasting on my toes.
I lay there, unable to break free from the oppressive paralysis, forced to endure the excruciating pain as my toes were sliced off and consumed. The air buzzed with the witches' terrifying, joyous laughter, as if they delighted in my agony more than the taste of my flesh. Eventually, my body in a full state of terror jarred itself awake, heart beating more wildly than I had ever experienced, my lungs struggling to gasp more than the tiniest breath. After perhaps a full minute of gathering myself, I drew a deep breath and screamed into the night.
My mother came, of course, but was unable to understand the depth and terror of my experience. Her own reality did not include anything close; for her, it was an exaggeration born of childhood fear, and she became exasperated after a time with my refusal to admit that it was a dream, despite being an extremely caring parent.
The witches appeared to me several times between the ages of 10 and 15, their ghastly faces returning to torment me with each episode of sleep paralysis. Every time, I would be trapped in that terrifying limbo, my body frozen while my mind drowned itself in screams of agony and horror. I knew that they would feast on my toes, the slicing of their knives relentless, inexorable. They would smack their lips and toast each other with my blood-covered flesh as I watched.
During those years, restless legs syndrome (RLS) also began to plague my nights. As soon as I began to drift off to sleep, a discomfort would arise in my legs, like there was a swarm of fat round beetles exploring, searching for an exit. A quick kick would settle it down, but it would rise again in a cycle of building tension, acutely uncomfortable climax, and brief relief of a second or two would follow before it began again. My mother, again meaning well but busy and unfamiliar with RLS, told me it was leg cramps and made me eat more banannas. This didn't help.
It became an increasing problem, stealing precious sleep that my young body needed to thrive. The frustration of RLS merged with the terror of a potential visit from the witches. Without medication, I would lose entire nights to the relentless discomfort.
By the age of 15, the sleep paralysis episodes had occurred at least 10 times, each leaving me with the gut-wrenching memory of being eaten alive that I would carry all the next day in my gut like a sack of bricks. As I lay sleeping, every single night, I wondered if they would visit, and braced myself for an encounter.

Early adulthood:

I can't remember how many times the witches visited before I finally stopped panicking. It was after countless God awful nights when I finally accepted that no matter how terrifying or painful the ordeal felt, I would be whole once it was over. I had survived the agony a hundred times before and could endure it again. One night, when the eerie glow of the cauldron illuminated their shifting faces, I felt a calm settle over me. I saw the witches, but for the first time, I wasn't afraid.
They noticed my defiance, their laughter fading into an uneasy silence. Without fanfare, they stood up, collected their cauldron, and retreated into the darkness of my room. Though I still saw them occasionally at the foot of my bed, they became more present than threatening. Sometimes, at the start of an episode, they'd appear briefly before disappearing altogether. They had become inconsequential, and I couldn't even be sure if they were there half the time.
In my early 20s, I discovered that I could almost guarantee a bout of sleep paralysis simply by sleeping during the day. At first, nothing particularly unusual happened, but the paralysis always returned whenever I dozed off, particularly between the hours of 11am and 2pm. I was often sleeping during the day because by then, the restless legs syndrome (RLS) had grown so severe that many nights passed without sleep at all. My body felt like it was full of angry snakes now instead of beetles, desperate to escape. The sensation soon crept upward from my legs to my arms. The cycles of build up, climax, and agonizly brief relief increased in frequency and magnitude. I would often resort to sitting in the shower, flipping the water from icy cold to scalding hot all night, simply to keep myself alert enough to avoid the twitching and spasming until the blessed relief of dawn arrived.
With the daytime paralysis came a variety of hallucinations. Sometimes the witches stood at the foot of my bed, other times they'd disappear, leaving behind benign apparitions like tickling gnomes. There was nothing threatening about these visions, and I began to find a strange sense of comfort in them. I would relax into a dark place where I felt my own energy burning like a sun, present but without physical form. In this state, I felt euphoric, fully aware yet separate from myself. I started taking naps during the day and eagerly anticipated this odd experience.
Yet at night, my sleep remained troubled as RLS tormented me. Eventually, I began taking ropinirole to manage the symptoms, and it brought much-needed relief, helping me reclaim my nights and giving me several years of mostly not worrying about RLS unless I forgot to take my medicine, or the odd night where it bothered me but was still less severe.

New experiences:

I spent several years relishing those euphoric moments of peace, where I could feel the pure energy of being alive without a personal history or identity. In those moments, everything else faded away, and all that remained was a brilliant, infinite energy. My waking life was absorbed by study of comtemporary and historical teachings of non-duality, and with my family and progressing my career as a software developer. I was absorbing Eckhart Tolle and Gautama, Meister Eckhart and Seuhn Sang and integrating their teachings into my daily life. The feeling inside of me that reality ultimately made no sense had found an expression, and I dug in every waking moment for a clue as to the true nature of experience. Given this context, I especially looked forward to and found solace in the experience of being impersonal, boundless energy.
In my late 20s, I also experienced a new type of sleep paralysis hallucination. One day it began that there were no visions or hallucinations; instead, I simply lay in a state of paralysis, aware of the room as a darkened and monochrome version of itself. I entertained myself by trying to move my arms and legs against the paralysis, and developed the idea that I had two bodies; my physical body lay on the bed, while my energetic body struggled and flailed. It was like my energy body could move separately, creating a phantom limb sensation. I felt my energy arms and legs extend out, yet my physical body lay still. As my energy body reached further from my physical self, it would snap back as if held by a rubber band.
Intrigued, I began experimenting with this phenomenon, managing to build enough momentum to "pop" out of my body one afternoon. Suddenly, I found myself looking down at my own sleeping form, resting on my back and breathing gently beside my wife, who was playing a game (probably Candy Crush) on her phone in the bed. It was surreal, and I wasn't sure whether I was hallucinating or truly perceiving my own body from a different perspective. Regardless, it was a revelation, and I felt a new sense of exploration as I gazed down at myself.
That first time, I found myself drifting through the house, checking on my two young stepdaughters as they slept. I had recently married, and it was a quiet weekend afternoon with everyone napping peacefully. Once satisfied, I ventured outside, where I took to the sky and flew around the neighborhood, spying on my neighbors. Though it felt like I was limited in speed, I seemingly had no constraints on the continuity of this hallucination. Everything appeared as a perfect physical representation of Earth, and I could travel without interruption.
The landscape was strikingly accurate, but it appeared in monochrome hues — grays, blacks, and whites — with no bright colors. Letters and numbers were unreadable, reduced to blurred nonsense. Despite these distortions, the sensation of soaring above the rolling hills and rooftops was pure euphoria. I sped along at hundreds of miles per hour, basking in the freedom of movement, and immersed in the stunning view that stretched out below me. There did seem to be some sort of very generous limit to how far I could travel, but I thoroughly explored within the boundaries for hundreds of miles around my home.
Over the years into my early 30s, I tried to pursue this opportunity of flight and exploration every chance I could. But during that time, my restless legs syndrome also became more relentless. In the past, no matter how agonizing the night had been, dawn would bring relief like a cold bath washing over me. I would sit outside and watch the sunrise, and the sensation of snakes slithering through my body would finally calm down, perhaps due to circadian rhythms and dopamine regulation. The cycles now began to climax in totally involuntary movement, spasms that caused me to tense my whole body and draw in a sharp breath every time. It would be 5 seconds of rapid buildup, spasm, a second or two of relief, repeat.
Eventually, even the dawn failed to provide respite, and I struggled during night or day whenever I relaxed too long or became even a bit drowsy. Napping became impossible, depriving me of the euphoric dreams I had learned to look forward to. I switched from ropinirole to pramipexole, hoping for relief. The medication helped me sleep five or six hours a night on good nights, but I still missed one or two nights of sleep entirely each week and rarely could nap during the day, because I took the medicine only a couple hours before bed.
Even though my restless legs syndrome worsened, one out of every ten times, I'd still manage to avoid twitching and drift into that state of peaceful paralysis during the day when I dozed off involuntarily. I gradually lost interest in pursuing out-of-body travel and instead sought every time the burning energy of the sun inside of me — the sensation of being infinitely powerful and formless simultaneously. I would retreat into this boundless feeling whenever I had the opportunity.
During these rare occasions when I could sleep during the day, I stumbled across a third type of experience. It felt like I was being sucked into space at impossible speeds, zooming past the planets of our solar system and beyond until I reached a darker patch of space. This spot seemed like a vast, corrugated sewer pipe that swallowed me whole. I rocketed through the universe, traveling at what could only be the speed of light. Eventually, I would break into the atmosphere of some unknown world, drifting down to its surface sometimes, others crashing painfully into terrain. Sometimes, I would hear a loud sound like an explosion in mid travel, and suddenly aterialize on another distant world without any sort of entrace.
These journeys were exhilarating, and each new landscape presented a mystery, revealing worlds unlike anything I'd ever seen.

The Traveling Years:

One of the first journeys I had involved zipping through space before drifting down through a hole in the top of a greenhouse. The world was painted in shades of orange and brown, its dirt swirling in powerful winds like clay cyclones. The greenhouse itself was dirty and grimy, almost opaque with crusted dirt, and filled with dense green plants — ivy and other dark green foliage that covered every inch inside. Outside, the orange sky churned with the swirling clay, making visibility nearly impossible.
I made my way down a ladder and emerged outside, where I found a man and a boy standing beside a white pinto horse. They both wore hardened leather over rough potato sack-like clothing, their long hair dotted with bone jewelry, their noses and eyebrows profusely pierced with other fragments of bone adorned with feathers. The man seemed to be instructing the boy on something to do with the horse. I approached them cautiously, fully aware of my lucid dreaming state and retaining all my memories, reasoning, and thoughts. Everything about the scene was vivid, from the clay dust swirling around to the squinting struggle to see in the wind.
Unlike the man and the boy, I had no long hair, no mouth covering, and no leather visor shielding my face from the swirling clay-dust. As I tried to speak, it seemed like they couldn’t hear me, and I wondered if I might be invisible to them. Unconcerned, I reached out to pat the horse on its nose, but before I could make contact, the man swiftly drew a long knife from his belt and stabbed me. He struck again, and the intense pain and feeling of my own scalding hot blood streaming down my pants legs snapped me awake.
Not long after my experience in the greenhouse, I found myself learning more about the worlds I could explore, though the opportunities remained rare. One day, I was transported to a beautiful blue tropical world, crashing into the dunes of a pristine white beach. There, I encountered three women, each towering over me at seven or eight feet tall. Their long black hair framed their pale faces, with blood-red lips striking against their alabaster skin. But what stood out most were their fingernails — long and crimson, curling back upon themselves dozens of times like spiraling ribbons. They were two or three feet in length and added a surreal menace to their presence.
They asked me my name and the name of my father, along with other odd questions, and seemed absolutely intriqued with me. There was a certain sort of heavy molasses quality to their voices that was more than sound and impossible to describe. It had the effect of making me feel drowsy and stupid and slow to move.
As I stood there, they began touching me with their nails, tracing them across my body in elaborate, almost ritualistic patterns. I felt my energy drain with every stroke, a profound exhaustion seeping into my core. The sensation was so intense that I woke up feeling completely drained, my limbs heavy and my spirit sapped.
Another time, I appeared without explanation after my space travel in a cavern brimming with glowing fungi and luminescent crystals. I wasn't myself in this world but instead had taken the place of someone else. My father stood beside me, guiding me through the luminous landscape. He taught me how to identify the bizarre and fascinating flora surrounding us — lessons that etched themselves into my mind and last to this day despite the surreal, made-up nature of this world. The glowing crystals and fungi cast eerie shadows across the cavern walls as my father explained the properties and uses of each.
In real life, these experiences would last for about five to eight minutes, but in the dream realm, the passage of time was different. What seemed like mere minutes could stretch into hours or even days, and in rare cases, the dreams spanned much longer.

RLS becomes terrible:

I had a new busy career, an infant daughter, two active growing stepdaughters, and a wife with a hectic job, and I struggled hard through the years between 35 and 39. Each night was pure torture, as restless leg syndrome robbed me of sleep. Days of sleep deprivation left me barely functioning, often teetering on the edge of collapse while the disease gnawed away. The unrelenting discomfort made it impossible to fall asleep, even as my body craved rest. I had no choice but to continue, as I had yet to find a doctor that knew how to move past the ropinirole and pramipexole stage of treatment, and these medicines had almost entirely ceased to be effective for me. My love for my family drove me to conceal the intense effort that day to day living had become. I managed to keep up with my career by farming a prescription for Adderall. I don't have ADHD, so it had the effect on me of methamphetamine and allowed me to push through the God awful existence that life had become.
The toll became overwhelming. I couldn't escape the agony, even after days of desperate attempts to sleep. More than once, I ended up in the emergency room after going four or five nights without sleep. For some people, this will seem like an exaggeration; I assure you, it is not. I would be nonsensical, having conversations with people tha weren't in the room, drifting in and out of intense 1 second dreams before snapping awake with painful spasms. At the hospital, they would give me percocet, and the painkillers provided brief reprieve from RLS for some reason, allowing me one solid night’s sleep, but the relentless cycle quickly resumed, leaving me struggling once again.
Eventually, I found a neurologist who prescribed Neupro patches that provided temporary relief. For a few months, I managed to sleep more consistently, but the patches quickly lost their effectiveness. It wasn't until I added methadone to the treatment that I finally found more lasting relief.
During those difficult years, I immersed myself in non-dual philosophy. In that crucible of suffering, my conviction solidified: my true nature was more aligned with the energy hallucinations I experienced than with a body made of skin, bone, and brain. That transcendent energy, more real and enduring than the physical form I occupied, became my identity in daily life, watching peacefully as my body and brain navigated the situational complexity of life.
Approaching my 40th birthday, I found that I could sleep at night and dream during the day. My life was in good shape, I lost 60 pounds without effort, and I felt fundamentally and imperturbably peaceful. Suddenly, life was in the palm of my hands, every moment pristine and still and perfect. I felt weightless without the burden of needing to endure trauma every night.
Most importantly to this story, I worked from home and could nap on my lunch breaks.

Rapid learning through iteration:

Rarely, I would fail to nap at all due to RLS. Sometimes I would simply doze off and wake up 10 minutes later to my cell phone alarm. But three out of five times, I would travel.
I visited dozens of worlds in a matter of a few short months and quickly was able to confirm some rules that I had suspected were true from my previous adventures.
One rule is that no one I know in real life ever shows up in the travelling dreams. No matter the place or circumstance or strange beings that I encountered, there was never a familiar face.
Another rule was that no dream person ever had a name or a father. The absence of both seemed to be an unspoken universal truth among these dream world inhabitants. Once I had internalized the significance of this, I began introducing myself to most beings that I encountered as "John, son of Michael." It left a strong impression. My name and lineage seemed to set me apart, bestowing an almost mythical quality upon me that earned me a peculiar reverence among all that I met. This knowledge became the key to navigating the dream worlds with confidence and a consistent purpose of discovery.
I learned accidentally of a unique ability during my travels: a form of telekenesis that allowed me to project force from the palms of my hands. This development led to many episodes of paralysis spent ignoring exploration and instead hilariously and painfully attempting to master this ability for the purpose of travel. Over time, I refined my skill, learning to fly much like Iron Man, but solely through the focused propulsion from my hands. Without stabilization from my feet, I had to carefully control the angle of projection and the amount of force applied to control my trajectory and speed.
Mastering this ability took significant practice, but eventually, I could navigate obstacles with ease and travel great distances in short amounts of time. I also no longer crash landed, thankfully. Importantly, I could harness this power to overcome any threatening beings that I encountered. Previously, my best option was to hide or flee, and that did not always work out. Now I had this amazing sense of fearlessness and confidence that simply cannot be rivaled by real world experience. Every time I heard the buzzing sounds and felt the WUM WUM WUM of energy as I prepared to launch into space, I embraced the journey with eager anticipation, confident in my ability to protect myself and learn about whatever strange world awaited me.

To Present Day:

As I grew more confident in my ability to travel almost at will, I began to incorporate spirituality into my experimentation. One day, on a whim, I expressed to the universe that if there were a being that had my best interests at heart and loved me fully, then I gave them permission to guide my dreams and lead me to greater truths, even if they were uncomfortable. This openness led to a new experience immediately, and I began to preface many of my journeys with a similar, simple prayer.
That first time, I fell down instead of up -- into myself, into the infinite dimensionless darkness where I could spin and burn and bathe in the euphoric sense of my own eternal nature. But my peace was quickly interrupted by an intense feeling of pressure at the base of my spine, though I couldn't have pinpointed where the body was that the spine inhabited. Very, very slowly, with a CRUNCHA CRUNCHA CRUNCHA noise for every milimeter of ground gained, it crawled upwards towards my head.
As it climbed, the energy below it intensified, growing exponenentially as the surface area covered grew. It wasn't painful, exactly, but it was terrifyingly intense. That first time, I managed to stay calm long enough for it to reach my shoulder blades before it became unbearably frightening and I jerked myself out of it, sure that I would die if I allowed it to continue upward. Over the last few months I have vowed to myself that I would endure any level of discomfort to see what happens at the end, but I keep chickening out. I have let it go as far as the base of my skull, at which time my head started vibrating so much that I could feel my teeth chattering violently even in my paralysis.
Another time recently when I made this prayer, I went to space as usual, but when I entered the atmosphere of a lush Earth-like world, my telekenesis failed me for the first time ever. Instead, I was pulled like in a slow tractor beam down beneath the perfectly round canopy of a giant, unfamiliar kind of tree. I felt a great sense of calm and peace and simply meditated there for quite some time, maybe 9 or 10 hours of relative time, before I heard a voice from behind the tree.
The man who stepped out from there had his face hidden in shadows. He wore a long dusty leather coat and a huge cowboy hat that shrouded him. As I write this, I find that I am not yet prepared to write about what he said to me, or how I responded. But when we had spoken, he walked solemnly over to me and lay his hand upon my head, and I jerked awake in a state of perfect bliss, despite some conflicting emotions surrounding our conversation. I call him Cowboy Hat Man, and maybe I will write more about him later.
A third time with the prayer, right before I sped off to my normal adventures, I felt a cat jump onto my bed and snuggle against my left leg, purring. It curled up there, and I assumed that it was my actual cat in real life, although it would be very uncharacteristic for him. I actually thought to myself, "Wow, I guess Buddy Socks is my spirit guide today." However, when I awoke, I realized that my door was shut and the cat was not in the room. On that trip, I went to a world that was reminiscent in quality perhaps to 15th century Europe, except on a world where the surface was far more underneath water than on Earth.
I followed the invisible cat to an old man and asked him, "Do you know the truth?" He answered, "No." I followed the invisble cat to young boy and asked him, "Do you know the truth?" He also answered, "No." It was an odd one, really.
Every time I do this, I am setting an alarm for ten minutes. Sometimes the dreams last days in relative time, but I have never yet failed to wake up before that alarm goes off.

Present Day (like seriously earlier this week is what me want to write this):

I lay down eagerly for my lunch break nap, hoping to avoid the disappointment of an off-day. I flew into the atmosphere of a world that seemed to made of rock, with nothing growing on the surface. However, I caught glimpse on the surface of a bright spot, and when I descended, I found that somehow there was a relatively thin crust of sorts around a hollow inside-world.
I lowered myself slowly through a great opening in that crust, down into a lush jungle. It was beautiful but uncomfortably humid, and I quickly found a cool and dry cavern complex to explore rather than dealing with sweat and unfamiliar insects.
As I navigated through the cavern system, able to see somehow with dim light despite no obvious light source at times, I broke out into a very large open cave with a huge exit out into the jungle. I saw that it was dawn and realized that I had spent the night, however long it was on this world, in the caves.
Suddenly, my four year old daughter, Curly, with her naturally bleach-highlighted rings of long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, drifted slowly over my left shoulder and out towards the exit. She moved at a brisk adult walking pace, her back to the cave opening, her expression curious yet slightly concerned. She called out, "Dada?" in a tone that suggested wonder and slight confusion, but no real alarm in the presence of her father.
Reacting instantly, feeling my gut clench solid into a fist of rock, I used my telekinesis to close the gap between us and gathered her into my arms. She wrapped her legs around my waist and settled her butt onto my forearm, a ritual that we have practiced every day of her life. The force gripping her evaporated instantly, and suddenly, my darling girl was there in my arms, as real as any physical embrace. I could feel the tickle of her hair on my neck, the beautiful warmth of her skin, and was enveloped in her familiar scent.
Initially, I was filled with white hot rage, fueled by my instinctive reaction to the thought that some idiotic dream world inhabitant had decided to mess with my family and harm or kidnap her. But as I held her and she nuzzled her nose into my neck, the anger gave way to sheer amazement. For the first time in a decade of navigating these dreamscapes, someone that I knew from my waking life had entered the dream. This was a rule-defying moment that really rocked me, a serious breach of the established norms of these experiences.
A group of maybe 8 or 10 small winged goblins flew down from out of sight above the top lip of the exit and fluttered into the room, laughing in a very non-threatening way. They radiated a sense of innocent mischief, and my fear and anger subsided and gave way to annoyance. I whipped my right hand out and blasted a huge hole in the cavern wall to my right, startling Curly into a yelp. Unphased, I raised my voice and demanded, "Who is your King? I am John, son of Michael, and this is my daughter and she WILL NOT BE TOUCHED AGAIN."
The goblins scattered, their merriment giving way to concern that I might blast them into dust. Behind me, a deep chuckle seemed to rise from the ground itself. A voice echoed in the cavern, neither kind or cruel, full of what felt like wisdom, though that doesn't make sense in the waking world.
It spoke: "I am Eloxman, and I am their King." At hearing him announce his name, my head whipped around in the dream and in real life so hard that I woke immediately with a sprained neck that is still bothering me. I looked at my phone and saw that there were two minutes and fourteen seconds remaining in my ten minute window. I lay on the couch in shocked disbelief: Curly was in my dream, and someone had a name. As I replayed it over and over in my head, I realized that Eloxman was still speaking. I think he may have been preparing to provide the name of his father.

The End:

Sorry, that's actually it. I am going to just see if this continues somehow, but if it does not, then I might get creative with it and make up my own ending. I hope that you enjoyed this if you read this far!

I’ve been in the psych ward for suicidal thoughts / attempts 3 times in my life (I’m 24 now)
I have intrusive thoughts, for example, I am hyper aware of my heart beat 24 hours a day 7 days a week, I don’t like feeling it, it scares me to death, every time I feel it suddenly change I go into panic mode thinking that I’m dying even when I consciously know I’m not, it’s gotten so bad it’s causing my body (mainly my neck) to twitch about 2-3 times every minute
I experienced bad trauma when I was little, I watched someone I love die in front of me, I’ve seen my brother attempt to kill himself when I was young, I even had to stop him, I’ve been sexually assaulted, I’ve been manipulated emotionally by people I trusted, my father abandoned me when I was 3, I had to watch my brother nearly kill my step father multiple times as a kid, my mom and step father also got into really bad fights, not physical but screaming at the top of their lungs
I’m an addict, I was abusing adderall & benzodiazepines for nearly 6 years (I will be 6 months clean on 5/13). I used to enjoy smoking weed until it started giving me panic attacks every time I smoked, so I quit. My adderall abuse at its worst was 10 20mg tablets a day, I would stay up for 4 days straight and go into psychosis, seeing and hearing things that weren’t there.
My Grandma took me in to live with her when I was 17 due to how much me and my mom would fight, it was a really toxic environment. I love my mom to death but she struggles with bipolar disorder and I’m not exactly an easy person to live with. We get along much better now that we’re apart. It feels like I left the nest too early. My Grandma is an Angel but she is an enabler.
I’ve pushed away every friend / relative I’ve ever had to the point we are now total strangers. I rarely talk to anybody, I am so antisocial that it is PSYCHICALLY painful for me to even have a simple small talk conversation. I show no emotion to anyone, when I’m alone, I can break down into tears. But when talking to family or a professional, there’s no emotion. None. No eye contact. No opening up about what I’m feeling. I just say whatever I need to say to end the conversation as fast as possible and leave. I have no desire to start a relationship with a girl. None. I was manipulated by a girl I loved when I was 16 and have never loved again.
Even if I wanted to, I have no confidence or self esteem. The sad part is, people constantly say I’m good looking, and yet I hate my face. I hate my hair, I hate my teeth, I hate my voice, I hate how I dress, I hate how I walk, I hate every in and out about who I am.
I’ve obviously been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I’ve taken over 20 different medications to treat it and not a single one has ever done the trick. I don’t like taking them either because I know it doesn’t fix the problem it’s just an artificial bandaid, I know about how pharmaceutical industry is designed to work. The Drs don’t truly care, the therapists don’t truly care, I am nothing more than a dollar sign to them. One therapist told me one time he thinks I’m suffering from several different personality disorders but he didn’t specify which ones.
I’m a pathological liar. I tell small lies multiple times every day for no reason. I am fake to everyone in general, I am terrified of confrontations. I’m terrified of rejection / criticism. I’m terrified of being alone despite wanting nobody around me. I can’t even go out most places in public alone. I’m 24 and I still need my mom or my grandma to go places with me like the dentist or to a therapists. Like mentally and emotionally I’m a confused child.
I don’t know what to do. It feels like there is no fixing me. I’ve been this way since I was young and it’s getting rapidly worse. I can’t hold a job because I can’t commit to anything. I can’t make new friends simply because I have no desire nor can I even have simple conversations. My memory is even starting to decline, I struggle to even remember things I did or said earlier in the days, it’s terrifying. My Grandma is 82, my Mom is 52. I’ve told them as soon as they’re gone I am just going to kill myself because I will just die in this world on my own by myself. I even feel suicidal as I type this right now. It eats me from the inside because if I were to take my life it would kill my Mom my grandma and my siblings. It seems as if I have found myself in a real life hell. No matter the outcome me and everyone around me loses.
What is wrong with me? I know I have depression and anxiety but it’s much more deeper and complex. I believe humans have souls and yet I can’t feel mine and I don’t know where it’s at. Where do you go when you’re suicidal and Psychiatric units don’t help? When it’s physically impossible to open yourself to your family, to your friends, even to a stranger walking down the street.
Dying wouldn’t even do the job, I want no memory of my being to have ever been remembered or to even have existed. Thanks if you took the time to read.

I’ve been in the psych ward for suicidal thoughts / attempts 3 times in my life (I’m 24 now)
I have intrusive thoughts, for example, I am hyper aware of my heart beat 24 hours a day 7 days a week, I don’t like feeling it, it scares me to death, every time I feel it suddenly change I go into panic mode thinking that I’m dying even when I consciously know I’m not, it’s gotten so bad it’s causing my body (mainly my neck) to twitch about 2-3 times every minute
I experienced bad trauma when I was little, I watched someone I love die in front of me, I’ve seen my brother attempt to kill himself when I was young, I even had to stop him, I’ve been sexually assaulted, I’ve been manipulated emotionally by people I trusted, my father abandoned me when I was 3, I had to watch my brother nearly kill my step father multiple times as a kid, my mom and step father also got into really bad fights, not physical but screaming at the top of their lungs
I’m an addict, I was abusing adderall & benzodiazepines for nearly 6 years (I will be 6 months clean on 5/13). I used to enjoy smoking weed until it started giving me panic attacks every time I smoked, so I quit. My adderall abuse at its worst was 10 20mg tablets a day, I would stay up for 4 days straight and go into psychosis, seeing and hearing things that weren’t there.
My Grandma took me in to live with her when I was 17 due to how much me and my mom would fight, it was a really toxic environment. I love my mom to death but she struggles with bipolar disorder and I’m not exactly an easy person to live with. We get along much better now that we’re apart. It feels like I left the nest too early. My Grandma is an Angel but she is an enabler.
I’ve pushed away every friend / relative I’ve ever had to the point we are now total strangers. I rarely talk to anybody, I am so antisocial that it is PSYCHICALLY painful for me to even have a simple small talk conversation. I show no emotion to anyone, when I’m alone, I can break down into tears. But when talking to family or a professional, there’s no emotion. None. No eye contact. No opening up about what I’m feeling. I just say whatever I need to say to end the conversation as fast as possible and leave. I have no desire to start a relationship with a girl. None. I was manipulated by a girl I loved when I was 16 and have never loved again.
Even if I wanted to, I have no confidence or self esteem. The sad part is, people constantly say I’m good looking, and yet I hate my face. I hate my hair, I hate my teeth, I hate my voice, I hate how I dress, I hate how I walk, I hate every in and out about who I am.
I’ve obviously been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I’ve taken over 20 different medications to treat it and not a single one has ever done the trick. I don’t like taking them either because I know it doesn’t fix the problem it’s just an artificial bandaid, I know about how pharmaceutical industry is designed to work. The Drs don’t truly care, the therapists don’t truly care, I am nothing more than a dollar sign to them. One therapist told me one time he thinks I’m suffering from several different personality disorders but he didn’t specify which ones.
I’m a pathological liar. I tell small lies multiple times every day for no reason. I am fake to everyone in general, I am terrified of confrontations. I’m terrified of rejection / criticism. I’m terrified of being alone despite wanting nobody around me. I can’t even go out most places in public alone. I’m 24 and I still need my mom or my grandma to go places with me like the dentist or to a therapists. Like mentally and emotionally I’m a confused child.
I don’t know what to do. It feels like there is no fixing me. I’ve been this way since I was young and it’s getting rapidly worse. I can’t hold a job because I can’t commit to anything. I can’t make new friends simply because I have no desire nor can I even have simple conversations. My memory is even starting to decline, I struggle to even remember things I did or said earlier in the days, it’s terrifying. My Grandma is 82, my Mom is 52. I’ve told them as soon as they’re gone I am just going to kill myself because I will just die in this world on my own by myself. I even feel suicidal as I type this right now. It eats me from the inside because if I were to take my life it would kill my Mom my grandma and my siblings. It seems as if I have found myself in a real life hell. No matter the outcome me and everyone around me loses.
What is wrong with me? I know I have depression and anxiety but it’s much more deeper and complex. I believe humans have souls and yet I can’t feel mine and I don’t know where it’s at. Where do you go when you’re in crisis and Psychiatric units don’t help? When it’s physically impossible to open yourself to your family, to your friends, even to a stranger walking down the street.
Dying wouldn’t even do the job, I want no memory of my being to have ever been remembered or to even have existed. Thanks if you took the time to read.

I know I've made plenty of bad choices with my care, and the ultimate answer is to see a doctor. I just want some opinions from Medical professionals on here and if I am freaking out too much, or not enough. I'm sure I will make some doctors facepalm hard with some of the things I've been ignoring. This will be a long one.
I'm 26m, overweight, extremely active and unbelievably busy for my business, but also can be sedentary for days straight sitting in cars due to my job. No real health issues recorded and always had surprisingly good blood pressure, levels etc when I was going to the doctor, family has some bad health history. I haven't gone to dr in years, and I just lost health insurance with no way to enroll now until end of the year. It's getting to the point where I am going to just pay out of pocket because I'm not liking how this all looks. Maybe someone can also recommend who to go to so I don't just waste money getting bounced around with referrals.
My stress levels are, as my last doc put it 2 years ago, "killing me quickly." I have zero way to put my life on pause, I have massive investor goals to meet and have been exponentially growing in the last couple of years, not having a free day or a second to shut my brain off. I own Two businesses that occupy 100% of my waking hours. My main business is very high stress and spontaneous; i absolutely love what I do and wouldnt have wanted my life to turn out ANY differently, but....and I certainly am not saying this to brag or for sympathy, but rather being honest with you doctors.. my stress and responsibility are absolutely off the charts for any age of person, and I do genuinely think my stress and lifestyle is actively killing me. I previously didn't think that it was possible to feel stress killing you, but now I get it.
Some symptom background:
For the past few years I'll get this feeling in my heart that feels like I held my breath for a while. That fluttering feeling in my heart, like a "pressure build up until it flutters away." Like how if you hold your breath and then release you get that head high feeling and your heart races for a second. I also have had this kind of head pressure behind my nose between my eyes, I'm pretty sure it began when my brother broke it but I never went to get it fixed. I just let it heal. Yes, I know, stupid. I genuinely eat barely anything but I am very out of shape, that walking for 10 mins will put me out of breath. I can often feel my heart rate when I am doing something, either in my chin/jaw area, or if i was to restmy head in my hands i can feel my head bounce with the pulse from my hands. My heart rate is high. I'm a HEAVY mj smoker and have always had very "virgin" lungs that would make me cough easily. I occasionally have wheezing. When I hold in a hit of a blunt I can feel myself start to get that nitrous oxide head high feeling of passing out (I do NOT use, I tried once in High School.) I rarely use Adderall a couple times a year, but I did pass out completely about 2 years ago, when I was smoking and held a hit in too long. I was on an Adderall, and didn't eat all day so chalked it up to that.
I've also had random pins and needles in my hands every so often for years now, but largely when I am sitting for long periods of time so I wasn't ever really concerned. I do also get fluid buildup in my legs from sitting (bad) but it drains when I sleep or am not in the car that day. Lately, I have been feeling like I can't breathe during the night, like it's too stuffy, and I can only go back to sleep if I crack a window wide open or else I feel like I'm slightly suffocating. Friends/family have said I sound like I almost have sleep apnea.
Fast Forward with all of that out of the way, to the event that's keeping me up. I was on a 3.5h flight (nothing new.) I can't quite put my name on it and itll be very hard to describe, but I just had a "feeling" that the "pressure" wasn't right. It was very hard to describe. I can't quite remember why, but I recall that it wasn't just me experiencing or sounding like something was off. I just keep remembering that I felt like the cabin wasn't pressured right.
Well, a bit after take off as we climbed I felt my head start to get very pressurized and uncomfortable. I began to feel like I was having a stroke. As you can tell I am not one to go to doctors, but it scared me so much I almost declared to the stewardess that I was having a medical emergency. Finally as we cruised at altitude I became more and more disoriented, had a headache, and just felt like my head was going to explode. Then I began having a nose bleed, and the pressure In my head kept building. I really thought I was going to die. As if the nose bleeding wasn't enough of a physical sign, as we descended altitude, the "pressure" began bubbling my saliva out of the sides of my mouth and I knew I was not just imagining things at that point. It did feel like my head pressure was releasing. By the time we landed I felt OK but completely sounded like a stroke victim. My brother who got me from the airport asked me how many Xanax I took, that's how physically f'd up I sounded. I sounded like I had a medical episode. I knew then this could not all be in my head.
Foaming at the mouth, as you can imagine, yields nothing except search results of "this is grave and you are dying." I have been terrified to fly since because I really thought I was going to die, but flying is an absolutely integral part of my business, so after years of symptoms, the flights may be what pushes me to finally fix whatever is happening (yes I know I'm stupid for that.) Between heart flutters, suffocating feelings, what feels like circulation issues, nosebleeds, head pressure and mouth foaming, I am scared to hear what they have to say, but it's time to face the music.
Thanks for reading this far. If anyone has any advice I'd appreciate it.

My son, 10 year old. Weight 102lbs, height 5ft 0 inches. History of mild constipation. ADHD. On 15 mg of Adderall. He said he woke up and the right side of his chest hurt and got worse from 7 am to 850am when his school called us. I immediately took him to the ER. They did 2 ekgs and one chest x ray. Results of both show no concerning abnormalities and normal heart and lungs. He received a Tylenol and felt much better with no pain. Was discharged. He had PE today and said the pain was back at a 5, which was his previous complaint. His pain was gone by the time I got to school. He has an appointment on Tuesday with his pediatrician. No congenital heart issues in the family except his aunt who had a small hole and was born with Down syndrome. Family history of depression and anxiety from me (sorry son). Just looking for some guidance on what other things it could be. He was upset about testing because he struggled with spelling and writing. Just want some info beyond google which scares me. Thank you. Also note he plays his oculus A LOT and if you are familiar with the game Gorilla Tag it involves a lot of arm moving and swinging.

CPS tore me from my loving home and ruined my life.
This is the culmination of events that transpired, please don't doubt the info I provide as I promise this is all perfectly recollected. Amazing how trauma does that.
Background:
I was raised in an upper middle class family in Arizona, Mom was a kick ass real estate broker and my father was a former executive turned business owner. 1997, my brother who is four years older than I was diagnosed with a form of cancer back then that was fatal. He had a tumor wrapped around his spine, causing severe light sensitivity and headaches. Slowly killing him, took over eight months for someone to find it after about a dozen spinal taps thinking it was spinal meningitis. I'm being told at eight my brother very well may die, infact the probability is very high. He was to have a surgery done that had only had one survivor as the surgery had only been done half a dozen times. My brother beats Cancer, goes without saying I was over the moon.
During this time my family realizing I'm not like everyone else had me evaluated, I was diagnosed with super attentive ADHD, promting an IQ test. I was rated eight points below genius levels, being told I'm near MENSA levels and could achieve it with the right schooling. Obviously my family put me in the best schools money could afford. During this time in the year 98 my father went down to Mexico to buy gifts for family members and friends as they were cheap and a few hour drive. Events unfold that result in my father's wrongful arrest, he had money so they'd extort us. Mom raising two children, running her business and ensuring my older brother kept up with appointments. Took on the Mexican government, this resulted in national media coverage. My mother fighting to shield us from their gaze and reports. Smuggling my dad a spy camera to get photos for the US news about his conditions. Our family losing via theft and extortion in 70ish days over million dollars in 98. Only way I could see my dad was to go to a Mexican Prison, where I was surrounded by dirty, ak armed people they grab off the street to guard the prison. I was forcefully strip searched in front of eight men at 8-9. My mother was livid and threatened death if they ever did that shit again. I always knew my mom was a badass but that sealed it for me. Eventually my mother freed my father. This resulted in tons of media coverage with my dad doing a bunch of interviews and condemning our government and state of refusing to help or protect American Citizens.
Shortly after my brother's suffering effects of the drugs from cancer resulted in issues with his mental control. This resulted in his injury which he told me as I wasn't there was as a result of a sports injury. He went nuts at home and Mom and Dad took him for emergency mental care, as they were terrified with no idea how to handle it. He in psychosis was all over the place but eventually came home, a teacher once seeing his sports injury and him telling them why he wasn't at school. Resulted in a report to CPS, this was emboldened by the state government being very angry with their humiliation. I was questioned at school in front of a principal. Nothing came of that, a few weeks later my mom had a mental break, go figure with everything that happened, her break leading to her withdrawing from work and isolating with severe depression. CPS decided at this time even though we still were cared for and living in a great home in Scottsdale, Arizona. They were going to strike, the police showed up my brother screaming at me to go with him and run. Me being taught back then police are your friends.
He ran, I didn't. This resulted in me being taken by CPS. Sat with a "child advocate" I use that term loosely. I was interrogated at 9-10 and told if I told the truth. I'd be placed with my brother and we'd stay together until they sorted everything out and I'd be back with my family. I told them the truth and they told me I needed to stop lying because I couldn't be back with them without the truth. Upon reflection they only wanted their version of truth, the led my conversation and manipulated me. Twisting my words. This resulted in me being taken and thrown in a shelter where I was abused. I suffered mental ,physical, and sexual abuse. When reporting it I was ignored. My father only able to get me out of care if he divorced my mother. So he did, this made her episodes worse. I eventually went home to dad. I didn't want to be with dad, CPS had filled my head with lies. I went back to Mom, her psychosis resulted in her weaponizing the mental health clinic mentioned before. Any negative actions I took looked bad on them and could make things worse. I obviously having crisis due to what happened to me personally. Eventually CPS came back and took me again, didn't offer me to my dad and threw me back into a group home. My father fought all over again. My childhood best friends parents took me in, I was safe. However CPS constant interference in their lives and my mother's psychosis made things uncomfortable for them, resulted in me going back into care. Two months later I was back with my father. Cue, the government providing half-assed care.
I was forced fed medications following the shelter by CPS, super high levels of Depacote, Risperdal, Adderall. My father seeing me sheet white, with a zombie like demeanor. Had my blood run, I was going to die from the levels I was given. Once free of those drugs, I received no care despite CPS finding after three years. My family never did anything wrong, no abuse and my safety and my brothers were always guaranteed. Now I live a life of misery.
Later diagnosised with CCPTSD (Complex Childhood Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), Bi-Polar 2, Anxiety and Depression.
Obviously this all resulted in a regression of my intelligence and created a self destructive monster. This brought to a head when I rolled my convertible car at 18. I survived due to my seatbelt failing. Having suffering a TBI I was still mobile. I was restrained and they pushed paralytics. This resulted in my heart stopping, I was legally dead for 57 seconds. I awoke to my family surrounding me terrified and I've never felt more like a shit. I have worked to overcome this over the years and I think because I don't recall 2 minutes before all the way up to waking up in the hospital. I believe I may have tried to kill myself. Cue the justice system hammering me through the floor. This obviously compounded by my lack of trust of the police, courts and justice system. Cue four of five years of severely destructive behaviors. I found my wife who thank god saved my life, and got me the care I needed. My brother not being in care turned out great, hyper successful however emotionally cold to his brother and mother.
This all comes to the surface because, for me to get state/federally licensed for my career I needed to dig out all my criminal records. Reading these I don't recall the events. I'm told it is caused by the TBI, obviously since I don't trust the police and I can be dismissive, standoffish and verbally aggressive. (Cursing, Insulting, Resistive.) Let me preface resistivie, is to what they want, never arrest. I never fought back. Results in these reports being written to make me look like the biggest piece of human shit. My wife confirming and getting key figures to inform me most of what they put in these reports was lies. I had an amazing career but in 2017, suffered a mental break and resulted in me being told I was disabled, the smallest interactions caused manic episodes. I applied for disability, I was dismissed by SSD and told I'm a faker and just don't want to work. Despite over two thousand visits and documentation of my disability since 18. I sued the government and won, I was sent back to the disability court where here in a couple months a new hearing must take place. Then 2022 when my father and I finally repair our relationship and I'll get to live my dream of working for my dad. He dies due to surgical complications. Mom and Dad got OG covid so ofc that terror, however Mom had been diagnosed with lung cancer in 19, so she got covid following a lobe removal. Cue 5 years of madness, she had a clean bill of health when Dad died. Now she's stage four. (Lung, Brain, Adrenal).
All of this reliving, I'm so angry, so frustrated and want to implode/explode and just escape this timeline/life. Sometimes I wish at 18 I had been successful and I stayed dead. I wish I could get my story out there.
CPS RUINS LIVES, THE GOVERNMENT HATES THE SICK AND MENTALLY UNWELL.
Maybe this will get buried, however I'm hoping to tell my story even if it just falls silent in the ether, will help me.
I'd love to expose the government, however no one cares and no one ever has. I will be broken forever and it's because the government ruined my life.
Side Note: I may lose my job, because of these priors that were previously (set aside) Arizona's expungement.
/rant
Thanks for reading.
TLDR: My life was tumultuous and the government ruined my future, I suffer every day now and I want to just vanish.
Side Note: I am safe, I am not a danger to myself or others. I have no plans for suicide. I am religious, suicide is a sin. It's also selfish as all hell. Most people call me crazy but when I died, I saw my dad's mother who died before I was born. She told me to stop being angry, it'll get better and to stop squandering the gift of life I was given. I also played with my dog I lost a few months prior. I only know it was her because when I described her to my father had never shown me any photos of her, revealed a photo and asked if that was her and I proclaimed yes. Finally I'm not crazy.
I know where I'm going when it's all over, I'm in no hurry to get there. I simply want the pain and suffering to go away. I wish I wasn't looked at like an unstable shit. I wish for peace and serenity, even if only for a small moment.
Evidence available.

Okay so I'm 33 and went to the ER yesterday with chest pain and turns out I have a small clot in my right lung. Started blood thinners and sent home. But now I am obsessed with figuring out the cause and I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts.
The Background:
I know the most common causes so here is some relevant info:
I'm active, like not working out daily but I have an active job running a zoo and even when I'm off work I'm usually doing projects around the house. I rarely just sit down and chill.
I was diagnosed with ADHD last year and started Adderall XR which has been a game changer for me. I have been on anxiety and depression meds since high school and now I realize why they never fully worked...because they weren't managing the ADHD. Anyway, I digress..
I also got a Mirena IUD last year.
I don't smoke but occasionally vape.
I had COVID last year.
I guess my question is has anyone else had any of these things cause clots? Or just any input is appreciated.

36, Female, 5'4, 128 pounds, on adderall, wellbutrin and zoloft.
I got Botox for the first time ever yesterday for my forehead, 11s and crows feet. I've been getting in shape post partum and feeling good about myself but after 5 years of pregnancies and kids, I looked tired and aged and wanted to try it after seeing some amazing results on friends. I got 46 units.
Historically, I dont "do well" with cosmetic surgery. I got implants 10 years ago and freaked out that something was in my body. That eventually resolved itself with therapy and medication and a downsize. I have strayed far awar from fillers, threads, microblading, or any other cosmetic surgeries or semi-permenant procedures because my anxiety gets the best of me amd once those are done, they're done.
Since Botox is temporary, and proven to be very safe (with proper dosage, placement and it being administered by an appropriate medical person), I felt good about my choice. I have a tendency to obsess over things and didn't want to obsess about all the research available to me so I relied on the pamphlet and some medical websites to make my choice.
Once it was done, I spent the rest of the day panicking about all of the "what-ifs"... then I saw there is some kind of "NOTOX" type of FB page with all of the horror stories. I refused to go look at the page but just knowing its there freaks me out. I saw some kind of medical published article saying that it could cause death but it was soooo long and complex that I focused on the negative and not enough of the detail.
I went to a medispa, but it was administered by a RN who is almost eligible for NP. Where I am from, it has to be an RN or higher medical degree. Would you say RN is fine or should I have found a doctor to do it?
Anyway, then my anxiety kicks into high gear... I start googling and watching videos going down thw rabbit hole. I think the fear is that something bad can happen and its going to take up to 2 weeks to know about it and its irreversible. It could either take 3 months to go away, or perhaps permenant issues? I am thinking all the scary things... blindness, botulism, allergic reaction, drooping facial features, loss of ability to swallow (choke?), death..
Can it go to my lungs or heart and paralyze them??
I might have ehlers danlos, lupus and mixed connective tissue disease (another type of autoimmune). I say might because bloodwork for the AD has been positive but waiting on Rheum appt. ED has been suggested by orthopedics but that requires genetic testing. I mentioned lupus and EDS briefly but left out MCTD by accident as well as my sports induced asthma. I only use my inhaler like 2-3x a year when I get a bad lung infection. I read ypu should steer clear of botox if you have neuro issues. I dont think any of those are neuro. The botox pamplet says not to get botox if you have asthma or COPD but I am not sure they mean my type of asthma but of course... does this mean I can never have it because I use my inhaler a few times a year? The pamphlet never mentioned lupus, ehlers danlos or MCTD as a contraindication.
I know I am an anxious person, especially with medical things. I am seeing a dr for it. I will say I am feeling calmer today. I am almost certain once I get past the 2 week mark and if I like the results I will feel MUCH better but I am looking for some kind of reassurance that even if something did happen, what would it be and should I be worried?

This is a bit of a long story but it's the singular event that spawned my entire issues with anxiety and panic disorder. If anyone, and I mean anyone, can give me some rest with this I would really appreciate it. It's eating away at me.
Around 3 years ago I (19m) went downstairs to make some food. Reheated some old chili and ate it. Right after eating I felt just completely tired. Just went from wide awake to feeling like I was on the verge of passing out after a 3 day all nighter. This was odd so I went to go lay on the couch for a bit, not thinking too too much of it. Then as I lay down I feel some weird thumps and pressure (which at the time I thought was gas) and then boom my heart is pounding. Loud and clear in my ears. My entire body went all clammy and I started hyperventilating. I don't remember a whole lot from this day but I remember laying in my parents bedroom begging my parents to take me to the ER (they were at work) shaking uncontrollably and getting progressively more confused and brain fogged. After that I have bits and pieces of memories, struggling to walk into the clinic, being unable to write my name down, finally getting down on the table. They said my heart rate was 180 BPM and soon 5-6 doctors were crowded in my room. They were trying to figure out if I had ingested any drugs, asking me several times if I used any (which I will note, my parents are druggies and do use adderall and vyvanse but I doubt they were putting it in chili. But then again, who knows when they are crushing it up). They tried valsalva, didn't work. They tried using some chemical to reset my heart, didn't work both times (and was extremely scary oml). Eventually they gave me some sedative and I started getting extremely foggy, in and out of consciousness. I guess that wasn't enough because I remember them telling me after I came to again that they had to give me a double dose. My heart rate was 110 while I was sleeping. They kept me for about 4~5 hours and when I finally woke up they said I should be fine to go home or if I wanted I could stay the night so they could watch me. My dad urged me to go home and I did. I remember asking if there was anything wrong with me and they said "The only thing we saw was a slight arrhythmia of the right ventricle"
I slept for a long long time after that and when I was finally back I was left with extreme anxiety. Panic attacks daily. I finally was able to see a doctor for a follow up about 3 months later and it was very disappointing. They said it was unlikely anything was wrong with me. Didn't ask for an EKG, didn't check my lungs (I felt like I couldn't breath all the time) just prescribed anxiety meds and something for angina and let me go. Since then for the past 3 years I have had EXTREME cardiophobia and my mental health has declined a lot. I've seen a few doctors since then and another ER visit for a panic attack. They have all said I seem to be just fine, I've always suggested seeing a cardio but every doctor I've seen says I'd be better off with a psychiatrist. I've had one EKG and it came back OK. Every medical person I've seen seems relatively unbothered by the story, outside of the "wow that's pretty bad", which doesn't help much. But I still have issues of panic attacks, difficulties breathing, fear of my heart rate going up.
As far as I'm aware I don't have any heart issues but that experience was unlike any panic attack I've had since then. Not having any issues in 3 years helps a lot, but frankly it also worries me more I still just don't know. Is it even possible that was a panic attack? I've always avoided looking into this as it's been the source of my anxiety, but with my anxiety getting ever worse I want to just get to the root of my trauma. Any help is really appreciated. Recently it's gotten so bad I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't leave the house, I can't keep this up. I want to be normal again.
Tl;Dr - 3 years ago I had a resting heart rate of 180 after I felt some weird clunks in my chest that was resistant to valsava, adenosine(?), and even a double dose of strong sedatives. This lasted for 5 hours even while I was sleeping. Doctors have told me it was nothing and my EKG didn't show anything more than possibly a "slight arrhythmia of the right ventricle". This never happened again and since then I have had extreme anxiety. Was that a panic attack or an SVT or something else?

This is a bit of a long story but it's the singular event that spawned a cascade of issues in my life. If anyone, and I mean anyone, can give me some rest with this I would really appreciate it. It's eating away at me.
Around 3 years ago I (19m) went downstairs to make some food. Reheated some old chili and ate it. Right after eating I felt just completely tired. Just went from wide awake to feeling like I was on the verge of passing out after a 3 day all nighter. This was odd so I went to go lay on the couch for a bit, not thinking too too much of it. Then as I lay down I feel some weird thumps and pressure (which at the time I thought was gas) and then boom my heart is pounding. Loud and clear in my ears. My entire body went all clammy and I started hyperventilating. I don't remember a whole lot from this day but I remember laying in my parents bedroom begging my parents to take me to the ER (they were at work) shaking uncontrollably and getting progressively more confused and brain fogged. After that I have bits and pieces of memories, struggling to walk into the clinic, being unable to write my name down, finally getting down on the table. They said my heart rate was 180 BPM and soon 5-6 doctors were crowded in my room. They were trying to figure out if I had ingested any drugs, asking me several times if I used any (which I will note, my parents are druggies and do use adderall and vyvanse but I doubt they were putting it in chili. But then again, who knows when they are crushing it up). They tried valsalva, didn't work. They tried using some chemical to reset my heart, didn't work both times (and was extremely scary oml). Eventually they gave me some sedative and I started getting extremely foggy, in and out of consciousness. I guess that wasn't enough because I remember them telling me after I came to again that they had to give me a double dose. My heart rate was 110 while I was sleeping. They kept me for about 4~5 hours and when I finally woke up they said I should be fine to go home or if I wanted I could stay the night so they could watch me. My dad urged me to go home and I did. I remember asking if there was anything wrong with me and they said "The only thing we saw was a slight arrhythmia of the right ventricle"
I slept for a long long time after that and when I was finally back I was left with extreme anxiety. Panic attacks daily. I finally was able to see a doctor for a follow up about 3 months later and it was very disappointing. They said it was unlikely anything was wrong with me. Didn't ask for an EKG, didn't check my lungs (I felt like I couldn't breath all the time) just prescribed anxiety meds and something for angina and let me go. Since then for the past 3 years I have had EXTREME cardiophobia and my mental health has declined a lot. I've seen a few doctors since then and another ER visit for a panic attack. They have all said I seem to be just fine, I've always suggested seeing a cardio but every doctor I've seen says I'd be better off with a psychiatrist. I've had one EKG and it came back OK. Every medical person I've seen seems relatively unbothered by the story, outside of the "wow that's pretty bad", which doesn't help much. But I still have issues of panic attacks, difficulties breathing, fear of my heart rate going up.
As far as I'm aware I don't have any heart issues but that experience was unlike any panic attack I've had since then. Not having any issues in 3 years helps a lot, but frankly it also worries me more I still just don't know. Is it even possible that was a panic attack? I've always avoided looking into this as it's been the source of my anxiety, but with my anxiety getting ever worse I want to just get to the root of my trauma. Any help is really appreciated. Recently it's gotten so bad I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't leave the house, I can't keep this up. I want to be normal again.
Tl;Dr - 3 years ago I had a resting heart rate of 180 after I felt some weird clunks in my chest that was resistant to valsava, adenosine(?), and even a double dose of strong sedatives. This lasted for 5 hours even while I was sleeping. Doctors have told me it was nothing and my EKG didn't show anything more than possibly a "slight arrhythmia of the right ventricle". This never happened again and since then I have had extreme anxiety. Was that a panic attack or an SVT or something else?

This is a bit of a long story but it's the singular event that spawned my entire issues with anxiety and panic disorder. If anyone, and I mean anyone, can give me some rest with this I would really appreciate it. It's eating away at me.
Around 3 years ago I (19m) went downstairs to make some food. Reheated some old chili and ate it. Right after eating I felt just completely tired. Just went from wide awake to feeling like I was on the verge of passing out after a 3 day all nighter. This was odd so I went to go lay on the couch for a bit, not thinking too too much of it. Then as I lay down I feel some weird thumps and pressure (which at the time I thought was gas) and then boom my heart is pounding. Loud and clear in my ears. My entire body went all clammy and I started hyperventilating. I don't remember a whole lot from this day but I remember laying in my parents bedroom begging my parents to take me to the ER (they were at work) shaking uncontrollably and getting progressively more confused and brain fogged. After that I have bits and pieces of memories, struggling to walk into the clinic, being unable to write my name down, finally getting down on the table. They said my heart rate was 180 BPM and soon 5-6 doctors were crowded in my room. They were trying to figure out if I had ingested any drugs, asking me several times if I used any (which I will note, my parents are druggies and do use adderall and vyvanse but I doubt they were putting it in chili. But then again, who knows when they are crushing it up). They tried valsalva, didn't work. They tried using some chemical to reset my heart, didn't work both times (and was extremely scary oml). Eventually they gave me some sedative and I started getting extremely foggy, in and out of consciousness. I guess that wasn't enough because I remember them telling me after I came to again that they had to give me a double dose. My heart rate was 110 while I was sleeping. They kept me for about 4~5 hours and when I finally woke up they said I should be fine to go home or if I wanted I could stay the night so they could watch me. My dad urged me to go home and I did. I remember asking if there was anything wrong with me and they said "The only thing we saw was a slight arrhythmia of the right ventricle"
I slept for a long long time after that and when I was finally back I was left with extreme anxiety. Panic attacks daily. I finally was able to see a doctor for a follow up about 3 months later and it was very disappointing. They said it was unlikely anything was wrong with me. Didn't ask for an EKG, didn't check my lungs (I felt like I couldn't breath all the time) just prescribed anxiety meds and something for angina and let me go. Since then for the past 3 years I have had EXTREME cardiophobia and my mental health has declined a lot. I've seen a few doctors since then and another ER visit for a panic attack. They have all said I seem to be just fine, I've always suggested seeing a cardio but every doctor I've seen says I'd be better off with a psychiatrist. I've had one EKG and it came back OK. Every medical person I've seen seems relatively unbothered by the story, outside of the "wow that's pretty bad", which doesn't help much. But I still have issues of panic attacks, difficulties breathing, fear of my heart rate going up.
As far as I'm aware I don't have any heart issues but that experience was unlike any panic attack I've had since then. Not having any issues in 3 years helps a lot, but frankly it also worries me more I still just don't know. Is it even possible that was a panic attack? I've always avoided looking into this as it's been the source of my anxiety, but with my anxiety getting ever worse I want to just get to the root of my trauma. Any help is really appreciated. Recently it's gotten so bad I can't eat, I can't sleep, I don't leave the house, I can't keep this up. I want to be normal again.
Tl;Dr - 3 years ago I had a resting heart rate of 180 after I felt some weird clunks in my chest that was resistant to valsava, adenosine(?), and even a double dose of strong sedatives. This lasted for 5 hours even while I was sleeping. Doctors have told me it was nothing and my EKG didn't show anything more than possibly a "slight arrhythmia of the right ventricle". This never happened again and since then I have had extreme anxiety. Was that a panic attack or an SVT or something else?

demographic info: 18F approx 160lbs 5’7” currently taking lamotrigine 200mg sertraline 75mg and clonidine hydrochloride 0.2mg. duration 2.5 days, brain vision heart and lungs. i have bipolar disorder and anxiety.
i am a college student during finals, so i took adderall 10mg extended release (non prescribed) to pull an all nighter and study. i also drank 2 energy drinks briefly after taking the pill. i felt nauseous but didnt throw up that night, and was shaking and anxious. i have been extremely lightheaded, had a high heartrate, and had some trouble breathing since, almost like i have been running when i am just standing up or walking. i also have been drinking like 3 energy drinks a day since, and also have not been eating sleeping or drinking water enough. i know i am treating my body poorly, and i will stop in a few days after finals, but i would like to know if there is something pressing medically going on and/or how i can treat it in my dorm.

4 days ago, I went back on stimulants. Daytrana, 10mg transdermal patch. I used to be on 108mg of methylphenidate via Concerta, and in November I came off cold turkey. So 10mg really is nothing, and I'm finally back to being a - poorly but - somewhat independent adult. But I'm so ill at the thought of this decision for many, many reasons.
To put this into perspective; I was never medicated as a child. I do have severe brain damage from - being born prematurely by 7 weeks, I was given stimulants to help my lungs develop. I was given too much and for too long so, to put it in the simplest terms - my brain finished developing dependent on stimulants.
My mom did not want me on stimulants later on in life. I do recall having an MRI done around the age of 10 and the pediatrician told my mother I had the worst case of ADD (just ADD, back then it wasn't all ADHD) he had ever seen. However, my mother lived through the tail end of the Dexedrine epidemic of the 60s and 70s and upper class white suburbia, so she knew what taking stimulants daily would do and my pediatrian did as well. I absolutely do not blame her, and I'm glad she didn't put me on them. I managed through therapy and coping mechanisms and Strattera rather well. I know this sounds obscure, but it's important for my dilemma, because this self failure complex is intrinsic and deeply routed from day one.
So fast forward to the age of 19. Was first prescribed Adderall and, oh my god. What a difference. Cleaning, showering, finances, improving credit. My life completely changed. It hadn't been awful, but I struggled a lot. And I was just exhausted.
Around the age of 27 was when I started getting worried. 2020 hit, and suddenly there were no meds anywhere. So I started having to go without. I would not move all day. Would not eat. I would quite literally fill a gallon with water and set it next to my bed, and only get up to use the restroom. All because I did not have these meds. I spent the next 2 years fighting on and off to get off but with zero success. What I struggle with, well, one of the issues I have is that - I was not like this, without meds, before I began taking amphetamines and later methylphenidate. I could cope. I did cope. I could be happy. I was happy. It was hard, but I was able to do it. Reading sucked, but I could do it. Suddenly, I wasn't able to do anything, virtually comatose in 2020.
To make a long story short - too late, last year I moved back to my home state, cold turkeyed, told no one what I was doing, and stayed with my grandmother. I've never been through more hell in my life. I slept for 18-20 hours a day for two months. But then I started getting better. I am exceptionally privileged in that regard, to have such a strong support system. And to support me like that, that's the sort of unconditional love and support I only wish I will one day be able to give to someone else.
It's been about 5ish months? Coming on 6. And I feel like stimulants took everything I had away from me, even just as prescribed. I've improved drastically, have been able to work. But then I made an enormous, horrific mistake over the course of 4 months or so (forgetfulness) at Barnes & Noble and cost the company around $50,000 if I had to guess. I never got the full scope. So I was fired, of course. I understand that and I don't blame my manager, I put her in an impossible position. But you all know how it is, no one takes ADHD seriously anymore, sort of like how they don't most mental illnesses.
I was retaken on at a wonderful company I've been with before. Making so much more money, amazing benefits, but I am so absolutely petrified of making another mistake like how I did at Barnes & Noble, I've elected - after 5 months of absolute hell - to resume stimulants. Although I won't let myself get anywhere near what I took before. 20mg a day is my decided limit. But it helps. I'm cleaning, I still can't read, or really even enjoy television like I did before November of last year, but I'm able to function with basic daily tasks.
I haven't told anyone except my dad that I went back on stimulants. I just feel like such a failure for it. As if I have wasted 5 months of (albeit slow, but still did make some) progress. My specialist was explaining how in my case - they were against the cold turkey idea, but used an older, lesser known drug that's in the early experimental stages of being used to treat stimulant dependence - it would take about two years for my mind to return to how I was pre-medication. However it would never be the same, and that coupled with already struggling before? Where exactly does that leave me? I don't have two years to lie around and practice self care 24 hours a day. I'm 29 years old, and I have bills and people I love who need me to be strong. Nor does the idea of waiting two years to go from 90% miserable to - if I had to guess - 40% miserable sound particularly enticing.
I just really need some sort of, I don't know, reassurance that this was an OK decision. And I hate hiding this shit from my mom, this afternoon I was at her house and had left a patch sticking out of my satchel. She looked at it but I'm sure assumed it was a nicotine patch, as I'm trying to quit cigarettes, and I hate that as well. Because I was terrified.
I don't know, y'all. I don't look at other people who take medications as failures, so why do I feel so much like one?

I've been addicted to vaping for about 2 years now, but I decided last night that it's over. I snuck away from my girlfriend to go hit the vape I keep in my car because I felt like I needed to wind down after a long night of studying. The vape was finally dead, so I threw it out. I want to commit to quitting for good and never buying another one, and I want to tell my story here so I can look back on it later.
About 2 years ago, I had this idea when I was over at my buddy's house. His entire family hit dispos all the time, and I noticed that they had rechargeable batteries in them. So I had the idea of salvaging these batteries to create power banks or something like that.
I asked him and his family to start saving up the spent vapes in a jar for me, because I wanted to bring the jar back to school with me so I could take em apart in the lab and see if I could fashion something out of them. Well I got the vapes, but school started ramping up and I just didn't have the free time to start the project. They just sat in my closet for a few weeks while my curiosity grew and grew.
Eventually I decided what the heck. I grabbed an elfbar from the bag and started inhaling. To my surprise, they weren't empty at all. It hurt my lungs and my throat, but I really liked the feeling in my head. I started hitting it more frequently, which led me to get used to the pain.
Over time, I started to feel less and less from each hit, and I felt like I wasn't enjoying it anymore. It felt like while the nicotine was in my system, I couldn't bring myself to do anything but lay in bed. Nicotine to this day really feels like an anti-adderall to me. Yet I still crave it every day.
So then after about a year or so of vaping out of these spent ass vapes, I decided to switch to cigarettes to begin quitting. I figured the difficulty of going outside to smoke would force me to consume less nicotine, which it really did.
But when the pack ran out, I got another. And another. And another. This continued for a while, but then I met my girlfriend. She hates the smell of smoke, and wanted me to quit, so I did.
But then some real stressful shit happened, and I bought a vape to deal with it. It was a moment of weakness for me, and it was even worse now because I had to hide it from my girlfriend.
In the entire year we've been dating, I've been awful about this. I've switched between feeling like vaping is just a necessary evil to get through my stressful life, to switching to cigarettes to try to quit, and right back again all behind her back. Several times now I've confessed to my girlfriend that I was lying to her damn face and made empty promises to quit that I'd break just days later. I've done this again and again and again and I've fucking had enough.
It's over. I'm realizing now that vaping creates the problem it solves. When I'm feeling down or stressed or any bad feeling whatsoever, vaping gives me the ability to just instantly escape it without doing anything to actually deal with it. So my thinking is that without this ability, I'll lose the craving to use the ability. I hope someday I never crave nicotine again. I'm sure it'll be a long journey to that point, but I'm also sure I'll get there.
I can't thank my girlfriend enough for her support through all of this. She still tolerates and believes in me after all the sneaking around and lying. I really lucked out with her.
Thanks for reading this rant. I wish you luck on all of your journeys to quit this stupid vice. It was a good exercise to reflect on all of this.

26F, 5'7", 190lbs, Caucasian, extensive list below, some symptoms 2yrs but significantly worsened in the past three weeks, PCOS/Endometriosis/Moderate sleep apnea, Concerta 27mg extended release, Slynd 5mg, no drinking/smoking/recreational drugs.
Alright. I'm going to try and make this as detailed as possible. I need people to look at this from the perspective of what if it's not mental health related. What are the chances of it being dementia related? It's interfering with my daily life at this point. Everything below the tests section was stuff I've taken three hours to type up in the best detail I can. I'm sure I'll miss an explanation or context and have to edit this.
History:
Great grandmother, grandmother, and uncle on mom's side all have had/have alzheimers and/or dementia. Great grandmother and grandmother were over 60+ and my uncle who just got recently diagnosed just turned 65. My mother might be exhibiting signs and she's 65 or 66. My uncle is a war veteran, has drank heavily in the past, has had head injuries, and did drugs. My grandmother had unmanaged diabetes, unsure about my great grandmother.
I had a minor concussion around in 2014 from falling off my horse.
I have ADHD(combined), OCD, PTSD, depression, and anxiety. I'm aware of my health anxiety and am trying to get help for it. But currently my health anxiety is due to said symptoms.
I've been on and off sedentary since I was a teen, but the past 3 years, I've mostly stayed in my room and haven't gone out because of derealization, but I'm wondering if that was the cognitive issues starting.
I had a CPAP for a few months but didn't use it enough for my insurance to want to keep paying for it(because I had to switch to a different mask, therefore I wasn't using it for a few weeks until I got a new one.) I'm in the process of getting one again. I'm waiting on a home sleep study, but that's not until July.
I caught COVID back in October after a trip across the US. Up until recently, it's been easy to go into coughing fits from my lungs being irritated, but it's pretty much gone now.
I've always had a tendency to get headaches and migraines. Most have been from binging too much sugary food, so I'm afraid I've screwed myself over doing that, along with my few year vitamin D deficiency and not exercising/getting my heartrate up.
Tests:
Nerve conduction study(2019 or 2020, not listed on my patient portal)
CT head wo contrast (4/8/2019, 7/15/2021)
MRI brain with and without contrast (3/16/2020, 8/5/2021)
B12 tested, normal (7/22/2021)
Sleep Study (12/12/2022 & 4/20/2023)
Meds:
Concerta extended release 27mg (Three months, was on a lower dose for two to three months before)
Slynd 4mg (About a month now, have taken it in the past but got off my schedule)
Supplements(Just started taking alot of these in an attempt to help my memory):
Toniiq 18,000mg 10x Concentrated Ultra High Strength Extract (Had some leftover from a while ago so used it the past few days, was able to take two and a half doses worth, finished it yesterday)
Vitamin D3 1000IU (2 days)
New Age Immune Support 8-in-1 (1 day)
Vitamin B12 (2 days)
Fish Oil (2 days)
New Age Turmeric Curcumin with Bioperine Capsules 1650mg (2 days)
Symptoms(Listed from oldest to most recent):
I know the first two probably aren't related, but the fact that it happened is still weird to me. And the fact that I got a case of shingles in concerns me.
(2019) Vertigo, intense onesided face pain, shooting optical nerve pain, muscle weakness, intense diaphragm pain: This is what caused me to seek out my first brain MRI back in 2019. I had unexplained, awful vertigo laying down for a week, awful optical nerve pain, intense pain on one side of my face(ibuprofen or tylenol didn't fix the pain for either), and I had this terrible diaphragm pain that sent me to the ER twice because I felt like I was being squeezed tight. All of these gradually went away after a few months.
(2019)Shingles: This happened almost at the same time of the previously mentioned stuff. Not a symptom, but I found it bizzare that I got shingles at the age of 21. I took medication prescribed to me and it went away, and it hasn't come back since. I still have an occasional phantom itch where it used to be, though.
Deja vu since 2022: This and feelings of disorientation is what pushed me to see my neuro about early dementia in the first place. I wondered if it was either that or some kind of epilepsy. She didn't think it sounded like epilepsy, but ordered an EEG. I asked about my minor concussion causing either that or dementia, even though the concussion was back in 2014. She didn't seem concerned about either. Past 2-3 years I've been having deja vu that's ranged from once or twice a day, to a few times a week. I've still had feelings of it lately, but it's harder to differentiate if it really is deja vu.
Disorienting brain zap type thing?: Before the disorientation started, one day (I forget if this was 2020, pretty sure it was early 2020) I was sitting in my parent's room and this weird, sudden feeling of disorientation hit me. I thought I was having a stroke or something awful. It sent me to the bathroom and I ended up throwing up. I can't remember if that fully went away. I attributed it to stress from my toxic relationship at the time.
Cognitive issues: This has seemingly gotten worse over the past two years with the disorientation. I attributed it to my mental health + untreated ADHD, but now I'm not so sure it was from ADHD. My friends noticed my trouble paying attention, losing items, impulsiveness, trouble following complex directions, problems with getting overstimulated easily, etc and suggested I had ADHD. Which I've always had some of these issues. Regardless, I tried Adderall. I hated how hard I crashed after it wore off, flushing, and it made me too tired to function. I switched to Concerta extended release a few months ago, things weren't improving at all so I upped my dosage 3 months ago to 27mg. Still no improvement. Up until the past few weeks I've been able to learn new skills such as 3D modeling and such even with my issues, but now I feel like I can hardly do that stuff anymore since everything went downhill.
Disorientation: Since July 2021, I started having this weird feeling that sent me to the ER because I was so concerned. It was like my brain was shorting out when I looked around or tried to focus on something. They did a CT scan without contrast and found nothing wrong compared to the one I had in 2019. This never has seemed to go away fully and I've had episodes where it's popped up again and seemingly gotten worse over the past two years. I had an episode around March 29th and it's just gone downhill to a worrying extent the past few weeks.
Memory issues: This is also something I figured was either DP-DR or my ADHD not being medicated well enough. I'd occasionally forget something my friend told me to do in a game or something I told myself I was gonna do. Or forget to make food for myself or leave the oven preheating too long because I was so focused on a game. I felt like days were blurring together or I lost track of time, too.
But again, as of the past few weeks, it's gotten to the point of debilitating.
The biggest thing that's worried me is the past few days, I had vitamins in my hand that I grabbed 10 seconds ago, looked in the fridge for food, saw none that I wanted, the reached back over to grab the vitamins, remembering they were already in my hand. When I took a shower the day before, I had done my usual routine of getting a towel for a shower, I reached in, got a washcloth, then a few moments later I reached for a washcloth again and picked it up, then realized I had the other one in my other hand. I also keep forgetting about getting food out because I'll grab a bunch of stuff and bring it to my room, then forget to eat or drink some of it.
I can hardly recall things from earlier in the day. I can just barely do it if I think hard enough, but it feels like I lose it super quickly and that makes me feel sick. I remember bits and pieces from a few weeks ago. I can barely remember anything from a few days ago except for little bits of conversations. I can recall doctor appointments from the past few weeks.
I tried administering the MoCa test on the 7th by using a video on youtube and following along. I can remember some of the answers even now. I would of gotten a perfect score of 30 if I hadn't messed up on the exact day for the date by two days. Because of that I got a 26. I got everything else right. I can remember off the top of my head the recall words being face, scarlet, book, church, and I forget the last word. I didn't do very well on the app version of the MoCa. Mostly because I had trouble memorizing images and patterns on my first attempt. I tried it a week or two later and was able to score in the 60's for it, but even then that's a yellow score.
Other things relating to forgetting things are getting or finishing food, going to the bathroom, losing things I just set down moments ago, made an accusation of someone taking something in a game from me when I'd just dropped it and forgot, unable to enjoy movies, tv shows, videos, books, etc because I feel like I just forget most of what I've just read or watched, unable to clearly recall memories from pictures I've taken and videos.
I also feel like I'm having trouble making new memories.
I can still recall older memories, in fact I've noticed the past few months that I've thought of old childhood things or older memories I haven't thought about in ages pretty easily or unprompted.
Feeling like places and people aren't familiar:
I passed off the feeling detached from places as derealization from being in my room constantly since COVID started. But now, my own house feels unfamiliar to me. My family feels unfamiliar. I get disoriented in my own home. I still know where things are, as far as I can tell. But nothing feels normal or familiar. I felt confused as to where I was on a drive home from the ER about two weeks ago. I was knew logically where I was but it just didn't feel familiar? It felt surreal being in my living room when I got home. It made me feel sick.
Struggling with words, feeling the urge to repeat what I've said, forgetting text conversations:
For example, I was explaining something to someone the night before last, I felt like if I was interrupted that I'd forget what I was saying. I felt the need to repeat some of what I said to get my train of thought back, and I feel like I struggle to get to the point. I'm messing up words more often than usual. I said 'scan' instead of 'stain' but corrected myself a moment later. I struggled with saying 'automatically' and instead almost said 'audio-matically.' I keep repeating the words "like" or "fricking" and "oh my gosh" when talking. I keep forgetting that I've read a text completely and I'll even forget sending a text. That's been an issue for the past few months, but I usually remember that I've replied or what I've read. Also, I was talking about my friend's height, and without realizing it, I was saying 5'1" or 5'2" like twice, when I meant to say 6'1" or 6'2". I didn't realize until my friend pointed it out.
Confusing dreams with reality:
I'm aware enough to be able to tell that it was a dream if I'm fully awake, but earlier I kept having dreams of my primary responding to my message about finding a neuropsych nearby with a memory test. I remember it the dream repeating and it was just different versions of the SAGE test. I remember the dream I had earlier before that too. I've also been constantly waking up or tossing and turning. It feels like my brain forgets what's going on in my dreams, like it short circuits. It's hard to explain.
Showing/feeling emotion for a split second, then feeling it fade:
I dunno how else to explain it but, I'll feel a brief bit of joy from something then it'll fade. It's like I can't feel emotion because I just blank out in the middle of it.
Suddenly apathetic/depressed/numb after symptoms worsened:
I feel apathetic and depressed, almost numb since everything worsened. I ended up breaking down crying twice yesterday over the stress from all of this and I feel like my life is ending when it's just barely started. I'm also afraid of quickly shifting one day to just, not being aware of my shortcomings.
Feeling uncoordinated:
I feel like I'm having a hard time with coordination when reaching for things or grasping things, and feeling unsteady when walking.
Feeling like my sense of time is shot:
An hour feels like it goes by in minutes to me. I'll be sitting here watching videos and boom, two hours have passed.
Hearing loss:
On sunday, my left ear just, lost some of it's hearing. I woke up and it was audibly different. The ringing has become louder, and I've had thrumming tinnitus in it for the past few weeks since stuff went downhill.
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I suppose that's all I can think of right now.
I feel stuck because my parents refuse to believe I'm having problems even though I'm visibly noticing them, and absolutely won't help me get to a neuropsych, which the only ones that take my insurance are an hour and a half away. I definitely couldn't afford an Uber, as I'm unemployed. I don't know if anyone would know of any other options I might have of getting there.
I'm in the process of seeing a psychiatrist and therapist.
I have an appointment on May 1st with my primary to do bloodwork for a referral to a neurologist that specializes in neurodegenerative disorders. But who knows how long I'll have to wait for an appointment once I get the referral.
I saw my sleep doctoneurologist on the 4th who I thought was taking over for my old neurologist, but apparently he was only supposed to help me with my sleep apnea. I didn't know this, and mentioned my memory issues and concerns with possible alzheimers because of family history, and was wondering if we could do a possible spinal tap to check for anything unusual. He looked at me like I was crazy and said 'no, because 26 year olds don't get alzheimers.' And brushed off my concerns completely. He also wrote in his notes that I was positive for 'dysphoric mood.'
On the 6th, I attempted to go to the ER for a comparison to what I had back in 2021, but I was written off as it being a "migraine." I told them I was struggling with horrible short term memory, feeling like my surroundings were unfamiliar, head PRESSURE(not pain, I specified that twice), and blanking out alot. I've had migraines before and this isn't it.
I have an appointment on the 7th of June with the neuro who my retiring neuro meant for me to use. Everything's just so far away. I'm having a hard time believing that this isn't a type of dementia, considering how much it's effecting me. Please, don't tell me to go see a psychiatrist or therapist. I'm actively working on getting appointments, as I already stated.
People with stages 3-4 of dementia can still be aware of their shortcomings. I'm showing so many signs of mild to moderate dementia that aren't going away and is getting worse to the point of me being hardly unable to get out of bed. I'm terrified that I'm just one of those rare cases of a person in their 20's getting this disease. Heck, if it's been what's caused all of my issues, I could of technically had it developing back in 2020 when I was 22.
I don't know if I should try to go to the ER again to get a scan, if I should attempt to get the money for an Uber to a neuropsych, or just wait this out.
I want to be wrong about this awful condition. I want to live and enjoy the rest of my life. I had plans to move out this year and start eating healthier and getting in shape. Now I feel like it's too late.
Anyway, I'm exhausted after typing all of this out. Thank you for reading this mess.

As the title states… I am not doing great right now. I have snapped at almost everyone around me, like top of my lungs screaming, and I am feeling like utter shit. I was fine for a while, but grad school has me burnt out to the point of no return. I’ve been riddled with anxiety for weeks now (also upped my adderall so could be that), but even before… I can feel the sensation through my body
We’re actually doing a psych module right now and they’re teaching pmdd. Just hearing how others talk about it makes me feel so crappy and hate my hormones for this. I didn’t ask to be this way. I don’t want to be crying over everything or constantly going on an apology tour once my period starts
I hate it here lmao

So I think I do have Cushing’s because I’ve had red cheeks for years and no one else in my family has that and I’ve noticed that my dad he had that kind of round belly and skinny legs, skinny arms, but I don’t know if this has anything to do with it but I was on Adderall when I was a kid and apparently I got off of it because I was having heart issues but as soon as I got off of it, I started gaining weight And like I said, my legs are skinny and my arms are skinny, but I have that moon face red cheeks and that belly, but I’m not really sure where to go from there noticed that every time I walk it feels like my knees are popping and I have to sleep a lot more than what I think I need to, but I have to sleep a lot more just to get through the day and I feel like I have to take a lot of caffeine in order to stay awake and I do have high blood pressure. I also have anemia and I have like hair under my chin and I just recently had gallbladder surgery as well. I also had a blood clot in my lung and I’m just not losing weight like I should be. I thought it was PCOS which it still possibly could but every time I try to talk to a doctor about something they just say oh I just need to lose weight and I’m crazy and I just feel like I’m not getting anywhere. And I’m not sure if I have something else or if I have this or where to go from here but I know I’m not crazy. I feel like somethings going on because I’m drinking more water and I’m really not eating that much but I’m not sure where to go or if I’m being crazy Because I’ve been told that it’s just my weight but I don’t even eat that much anymore really here so I’m just kind of wondering what I need to do and where I need to go from here sorry if that was a lot and sorry if I repeated anything I’m using voice to text because that’s a lot to type.

F23, 5’7 135lbs, I take a multivitamin daily and 20mg XR Adderall. Haven’t had any medical issues since I was 5, no surgeries. History of blood clots in my family (I also had one when I was 5)
Over the course of the past 4 months or so, I will check my blood oxygen level and about half of the time that I do, it’s in the 80’s. I’ve never had any lung problems or breathing problems. Last night it dropped to 83%. I tried the pulse oximeter on my S/O to make sure it’s not just my oximeter that’s being funky, and have also tried others.
It has been in a good range a lot of the time I check (97%-100%). I also make sure to sit down for a few minutes before taking it.
Does anyone know what could be going on? When I looked this up online, it said to seek emergency medical attention if level is below 88%, but I just don’t feel like anything is wrong and I’m not in a good place right now financially to have ER visits that aren’t needed.
Is there anything I could be doing to make my blood oxygen level this low? Or anything I can do to make it in a better range? TIA!

33F, 5'10", 215 lbs. Ehlers-Danlos (hEDS), POTS, PCOS, IBS, mild facet joint osteoarthritis, mild scoliosis, ADHD; Adderall XR 30mg. Most of my symptoms have gotten worse over the past year. More specifically, I had strep twice (Jan & Feb 2022, black mold exposure in March, hypovolemic shock due to unexplained excessive menstrual bleeding in April and then a lot of these symptoms started getting much worse. My iron and ferritin have been back to normal for months. Family history of autoimmune issues; my dad was diagnosed with Grave's disease when he was 39. My aunt has rheumatoid arthritis. I have a rheumatology referral but it'll be months before I get seen.
Symptoms

• Severe fatigue
• Severe brain fog
• Joint pain
• Joint stiffness in hands
• Butterfly rash (often worse when exposed to sunlight/fluorescent lights/heat)
• Red eyes
• Dry mouth
• Red, burning palms of hands
• Headaches
• Excessive sweating (likely POTS related)
• Recurrent infections (sinuses/lungs)
• Dark circles around eyes
• Night sweats
• Heat intolerance
• Cold intolerance (hands and feet get painful when exposed to cold, but dont change colour)
• Small goiter (new symptom)
• Random recurrent but small hives on jawline/neck (maybe MCAS? maybe autoimmune?)
• Small swollen lymph nodes in armpits

​
Lab Results

• ANA: positive, 1:80, speckled and homogenous
• Anti-dsDNA: negative
• Anti-ENA: negative
• Thyroperoxidase Antibody: 39 kIU/L
• Thyroid Receptor Antibody: <0.3 IU/L
• Thyroglobulin Antibody: 20 kIU/L
• TSH: 1.07 mIU/L
• Free T3: 5.7 pmol/L
• Free T4: 16 pmol/L
• Rheumatoid factor: <10 IU/mL
• C-reactive protein: 17.6 mg/L
• Hemoglobin, Hematocrit & RBC Count have been slightly high for the last 6 months.
• Nucleated RBCs: 1/100 WBC

The title gives you the gist of it, but I'll elaborate.
I played the game on and off with my ex about two years ago, and recently decided to pick it back up after some time. I saw the new curveballs mechanic and liked it well enough that I was never bothered by it. I played with it on a community I had that was set to Standard that I'd had and never really finished, and none of them seemed too problematic, and shifted up the game enough to make things interesting.
Fast-forward about a week from then, and I made a new community on Dread, and while it was certainly harder, it wasn't anything too unbearable. On about my fourth day in game the Out for Blood Curveball hit. Again, it wasn't too bad, especially considering it was on the other side of the map from where we were set up at the time. I was getting ready to move my group into another base, and figured I'd deal with it after we got settled there. We moved, one of my guys died after getting jumped by an enclave and getting whacked to death in a barn after his gun broke, and I came back and responded in kind 😊.
After that, Fueling the Plague hit. And holy shit, it's made about half of the map a minefield. I can't go looking for meds or supplies without feeling like I'm in the trenches getting bombed by the hordes of suicide bombers lunging at me like they're college students and I'm an unattended bottle of Adderall. They sprint everywhere they go. There's no slow walking for them, no no no, they dart and skitter around like roaches when you flick the lights on. I've never felt more anxiety than when I had to climb onto a roof to escape them while two hordes kept sprinting in, out, and around the pharmacy I'd managed to hold myself up in. These hate filled little missiles of death are holding me hostage.
Preferably, I'd like to just deal with the Plague Heart that's causing this, but getting anywhere close to it is a death sentence. How the fuck do I kill this thing without getting bombed like I'm a country who has oil? Any advice appreciated 🥲