Bad painful cough

One of my sweet boys isn’t doing too well and I know it’s only a matter of time. I’ve had pets pass away when I was younger and I truly don’t know how I got through it, it feels like a part of me is dying. He’s been with me through so much and I know it’s logical that he would one day cross the bridge but it hurts so so badly. If anyone has tips with coping, I could really use them, it’s so painful to know what’s coming.

I’m not a professor however I am just concerned for my upcoming project We’ve been preparing for the project since the beginning of the semester and it basically it all boils down to tomorrow where we will sit in a zoom panel with a couple other students and professors . All was well untill I got sick last night and I cannot stop coughing and my voice is in a bad condition. The only way to stop it is to sip water consistently, however the catch is I have to speak about my topic that I’ve been researching infront of this panel of professors for 5 minutes straight. I practised and practised however I cannot get through more than 40 seconds without feeling a tingle in my throat. I’m scared they’ll penalise me for coughing . I will let them know prior to my speaking time but if one of your students presented in this condition would you guys be understanding??

Hello, I have a unique situation that I would love some opinions on.
I just finished my sophomore year at a top20 school majoring in economics. I’m unsure what I want to go into as I was unsuccessful to land a IB internship during the 2025 recruiting cycle, so I’m now looking to go into consulting.
Anways, I landed a WM internship in the Midwest (where I’m from) earlier this spring, and this has been my plan for the summer since then. However, I was recruited to play football out of high school, but I decided not to because my heart wasn’t in it at the time. Ever since then, I’ll see the football players on campus walking around and wish I decided to play it. Eventually, after discussions with the coach, I got the chance to walk on the team, which requires me to be on campus all summer and not be able to work this WM internship.
This leads to my other conflict, which is I’ve had a bad knee for years. I’ve been unsuccessful rehabbing it in the past, so I wasn’t sure if I could even play football, which is why I didn’t make a decision right away. I told myself I was going to wait until I FULLY rehab my knee to commit to football, so I haven’t told my WM internship that I was no longer planing on working the position in the case that my knee wouldn’t heal. This was the case for many months, as my knee wouldn’t heal, so I came back to the Midwest and worked the first week of the internship (which I have enjoyed so far)
However, this last week my knee also made significant progress, and I was able to complete a pain free football workout yesterday making me believe my knee is healed. Now I’m thinking about quitting the internship to go back to campus and live out my dream of playing college football.
I also have a remote search fund internship on the side (which isn’t nearly as good, but still some experience) so it’s not like I’ll not be working SOMETHING while playing football.
Anyways, I was wondering if you think not working this internship is a bad idea for my career path, and if quitting after one week is a bad look given my circumstances. Sorry for the length post, just wanted to explain the whole situation.
Thanks

So here we are at last. Hurrah. (In pirates voice )The end. Part 4. As it were. (Laugh at them) I'm just sayin I'm insane!
If I can even think i can change anything at this stage of the game, I must be insane. And yet I do believe. Because I believe in the goodness of us. And the reason I believe in the goodness of you, is because even within a world wot currently, externally, places so little value, on goodness, I still observe, the goodness shared between friends and good strangers alike. 100 times a day. More, if I pay closer attention.
And so by mine own eyes, the whitless witness, I believe in the goodness, I see in you, pretty much all o' you. But every day. And because I believe wot I see, so yet I have hope for us. So yea, that's me insane then! Ho hey, hey ho. And on we go.
So, dearly beloved we are gathered here today to confront the spaces we have allowed to grow between us.
To confront the void, from which our current sense of hopelessness, wot we are all stuck in together, but feeling alone with, eminates.
Look at them seriously Stevie.... challenge them to think about it with just your eyes.
The truths waiting in t'wings to be rediscovered to replace the bollockshit lies we have come to believe about each other, on t'other side. And each other, of course, is just another, way, of saying ourselves? Right?
For no matter how much, both sides doth protest of each other too much
We only are, ourselves. Together.
Just us lot. Making it up as we go along, and trying to not let on, together.
Right?
For better or worse.
Because only together can we rediscover and so reconnect with the common ground that we hadn't even realised was at stake, at the time, ways back when, which it woz. And which we then lost; gave up, infact. We had to; couldn't hold the common ground and prove each other wrong, so away we all trouped, and we didn't stop, until either side could no longer hear t'others poisoned lies.
And so our problem right now, is found within the truth of the words ’we can only do this together. And we certainly can't do this against each other. Because the truth of the this is only to be found listening to the words of each other. The thing we can only do together. Upon our common ground. Cumon. It's time to find our way back. Try to remember.
I told you before. Remember! Trust me, its going to get harder, but then you will Remember. Just stick with it a little longer. It will get better.
A moment in time for us to shine approaches..... Become stronger.
Cuz these strange days is the time of EitheOr. Transition Time, and we've been here before. Many times in fact. The only time in fact, to heal, the break, whilst it's actually a'breakin, round us. And us! Cuz once the spirit of our goodness is crushed, once we no longer feel reciprocation within our wider world, so we are forced into darkness to reset, allowing the break to go unfixed and the faulty cycle to complete, and so we are then forced to repeat, these crazy times again. And again. And again. Just Cuz we didn't learn the lesson in time, in time. This time around.
This bit in which we find ourselves right ere right now in fact, this bit in which we can't see the woods for the trees.... But still. I tell you buddy, woods are just full'o trees. Cumon. It's become time to remind yerself to think clearly again.
You are it's measure. We are, together. The measure of this bit, our time, these days, right now.
Just sayin
And this journey we all have to choose to take, to achieve all of this, can only begin when you start to believe in the goodness of enough of us again, and really I mean, when you choose to see, that just as on your side, some of those on t'other side of your particular divide, are gooduns too. Some notsomuch. Ja mais vu. But this is the truth that unites all sides, the truth that for us, will ever be, our humanity. (Dah dah dahhh) (Start rubbing head) And that journey can only begin after you have confronted the void buddy. A moment deep down, in some ways, some of us have always known would be waiting, didn't we. Haven't we. Known. That at some point in our future. A moment...... Just like this one.......
Well your future has arrived buddy. All of our futures have. Cuz Its time.
But you can do this. I believe in you.
REWRITE So firstly buddy we have to see what we have come to see. You and me. To first peer, into the void, and then you have to choose to steer, into the void. To first feel what its oppresivity has allowed us to become to each other. Because this is what we do to each other, when we are blinded by fear, surrounded by darkness, and feeling so alone, so desperately alone, that we allow ourselves to be forced to conform by contorting to fit the faulty framework. Which secondly is just a fancy rhyming pants way o'sayin, when our fear gets our better, and drives us to hide, alone, but actually all together, huddled inside, the void.
(Master you) Too much (tap head)
So we're going to choose to confront the void, and then we are going to choose to go into the void, and then we're going to pull ourselves out.
And you are going to resist.
So you have to be the strong one in all this.
But trust me. I promise, with my love, I won't let you go.
Breathe. Even if you do feel silly, please, do it for a buddy, buddy. Breathe. And..... then breathe again. This time just a lil deeper, a lil slower. Breathe comfortably once more and you may notice that whereas at times in our recent past, you may have found yourself struggling for breath, so now just notice how easy your breathing is.....see. You're looking for your old rhythm now... Remember, before the anxiety set in ... Try to Remember what it felt like, when you breathed freely.
To breathe normally.
And breathe.
Normanly!
And as you settle into your old groove, then take a few more comfortable breaths, just because, you know, you can again....
And breathe.
Now, with yer focus on yer Eupnea, yer trying to look fer, the sliver of a moment bein the bit after y'exhale has ended, but before y'inhale begins. (Do it here) That one teeny tiny point which exists for just a tiny instant, but again and again, within us, moment by moment, breath by breath, each turn of your own lifecycle: all of us connected, by this shared moment, wether we choose to believe it or no, by this thinest delicatist moment we are all connected by , right up til our penultimate breath. Just sayin.Just notice it, as you reach it, each time, in time, its time comes around. (Here)The individual lustre of a moment between moments when everything hangs in the balance....
Without rushing your comfortable breathing, when its time comes round, this is the moment you now aim for each time it comes around. (HERE)
And now Notice it's depth, even as it all too briefly fleets past, you can yet perceive great depth, within the slither. (Here)

And now next time, or maybe the next time after your breathing reaches this moment, cast your minds eye , like a fisherman casts their fly, aiming into the very heart of that fleeting moment each time it passes by. (Here) Again and again each time it's time comes, you cast, until more often than not your aim meets it's mark. (Here) Until eventually you feel confident enough with your aim, in that fleeting moment inside, so to try, to flip your view from micro to macro. So still tho a fleeting moment, you begins to discern it's brilliance, each time, from within. And so now as this moment appears, each time within your own personal timeline: rush to reach deep inside it to look for and then to find the tiny seed of peace, deep within the heart between each moment. Each and every time, between each and every breath now you look for this moment and you find it. Let its momentary cyclical pulse of sweet peace become familiar to you. It is, after all, a part of the cycle of you. And so now as you continue to comfortably breathe, Anticipate it..... This beautiful moment between breaths, between times, you are trying to elongate it.. to stretch it out, and now not this time, but maybe the next time, or maybe the next next time, anticipate that beautiful moment, then experience that beautiful moment, and then take an extra moment, elongate that moment: hold time in your mind as you hold your breath for just a slight moment lond itger, (HERE) and then without really you thinking about it, as you then get picked up by the cycle of time again, you just become uncoupled. And so now you are ready. Just simply drop out of time. It's ok. Let go. I've got you. 

(Here, or not) Booof!
There you go. Just for a minute. Just you and me buddy. Connected by just our love. And how amazing is that! And I promise I won't let go.
Ive brought you here cuz you needs to feel what it does to you buddy. Cuz wot it does, is why we then allow ourselves to do, wot we then do, to each other, and the kiddies. Why it makes us bring out the worst in each other. So we can realise how to stop bringing out the worst in each other. And to confront it we needs to understand what its oppressive hopeless energy feels like, discrete from our own personal burdens. Which is why you needs to confront it out of time. See. You need to learn it's discrete burden so then you know what it is you need to choose to ignore, when this moment ends and you go back to feeling it all. So that it can then begin to heal for us all. So we all can..... Before we all can, move on .......or at least just enough of us. I hope that makes sense. I wish I had better words for it to make better sense.
All the pain you feel in your heart right now, out of time, is just the void.
You can feel it, can't you. Good. That's just what it feels like when we are in needing of healing is all. The thing we can only do for each other, with our love.
And now we've found this space outside of time together. It's time, together, to steer into the void. A trick I learnt from an organisation I'm passionate about. A long time ago. To see, wot we needs to see.
REWRITE Do you remember that seed of imagination we set loose and slowly sent way down, until It slipped from memory, at the beginning of part 1? And if you don't, and I'm right, then it doesn't actually matter anyways. Hey ho. The dreams worth of hope we set loose to plumb our depths. Well hopefully it has now fulfilled it's purpose. Because now all you needs to do is just follow it's trail, that starts exactly where you stopped thinking bout it, in your mind, as deep as you stuck with the thought, begin your search there and once you find its end, just simply allow yerself ter zoom along it's length like data along a fibre optic cable - and then popping out the end. And if you didn't do the thing in part 1, it's ok, then just pretend 😁
Booof!
And if you did do the thing in part one. when you arrive, if you notice a bloke with a unicorn, don't worry about it.
And so we have arrived, now, you and I, but now you have to choose to steer Into your own personal deepest darkness. The place only you know exists inside of you, where your own lil bit of our void resides. Turn to face it, and then just start Pushin through in your mind. The resistance, with the fear, will pass.
Keep pushing through the fear, and when it subsides, allow yourself to chill out for a while whilst you adjust to this deeper darkness. And then so acclimatised. in your mind, just keep pushin on. And what feels so close around you, all around you, suffocatingly so, is just the pain of the void.
Keep calm and you will acclimatise to it's cyclical waves of intensity. The sickness feeling will pass, hopefully.
Try to think It's like entering lake water
Breathe comfortably still. Remember. I'm here too.
And when you feel the resistance subside and so the moment of panic passes, you have arrived, close both your actual eyes and your minds eyes, and then just use your love to probe around in the darknes, to discover where it hurts the most. And once you are confident it's truly the most hurty place, then simply hold your hands out, open your eyes and look down and you will see yourself. The scared you. The afraid you. Be strong, I've got you two. They/you reach up with grateful eyes, and desperate hands and with tears in your own, take theirs, and lift them up, reach around to support them - they are weak, but you will grow stronger. And then reunited again, shuffle round, 180 degrees like really bad salsa dancers, on your heels, in your mind and then facing away from the pain, take one purposeful step, together, back out of the void.
Not a giant step. But a confident step. Nonchalantly, and with just a touch of swagger if you can manage it😁
Cuz fuck it. You know.
See I knew I was right about the time thing.
We all know that time is the key that unlocks the future, but it can also be used to seal the past. But only once enough of us are ready to give enough of us a second chance. Which really just means a new path. A new perspective, and all that really means is are you ready to move on? To create an anchor point in time, together, from which to pivot our path, and so then to face what wos always going to becoming our ways anyways, our generations veritable ecological destiny, from the very start of time. Think about that! But now think about it, together.
And so finally, before time notices we are AWOL, and so before this moment passes, (leaving you to wonder if it ever really happened....long pause, look at em all)
There's just time for a quick sandbox reality experiment!
Imagine yerself a world, a facimily of this one, but yer made-up world is made up of good folks, who thanks to a reality flash realised, together, that the only true value to their continued existence was to be found in the community of each other. All of em, together. Or not at all.
Eitheor.
Just that.
And these good folks, not dissimilar to ourselves infact, realised that if they could help each other get their shit together, they could change their future together, and if they came up with a good enough framework, framework 2.0 as it were, that that change, could be, forever.
And because they did, so they did.
In your sandbox reality, Imagine what it feels like, being the good folks who achieved all that, in our near future, and then all you needs to do , is just take here, now, today as your starting point, and then just work out how to become them. And that's the journey just enough of us have to take, if we want things to go differently from this, for us. From now on.
I don't make the rules, and you get to choose your own path. But know, that whether you realised this moment as a choice or no, in these changing times, a choice, by us all, will be made.
And as time finally looses patience with us, so our moment out of time, as all moments, in and out of time, must, transitions.
So finally.... There is a moment in our future where all this has already happened. I know this, because I have been there and I have felt what it feels like to be apart of. Its beautiful beyond my megre words, like turds, will ever be able to express.
And every generation that comes after those heroes of humanity, blesses the very day, the very hour, minute and second that their forebares finally chose to choose. Better. for each other, and all I'm sayin is why not us. Why not here, why not now, today. The moment when humanity finally realised the truth of the words; that it doesn't have to be this way.
StevieP Mar- apr 2021 and then April onwards 2022. Re picked up apr 24 I watched kid goats frolicking, a long time ago now, with a friend, at a farm. Happy memories indeed!
And now another year has gone by, and here I am again, believing that Ive given my very best, hoping it will become enough and eagerly awaiting the chance to try to begin our Summer Of Love 2022.
Well May 24 today and that shit didn't happen! Heya ho. And on we go. Onwards and upwards. And once more with pasta.
That doesn't sound right.

Hello,
The reason I’m posting this is really for one reason; to clear up any sort of misinformation and misunderstandings of what the DSVA experience was like, but also to speak on other NATSAP program experiences since so many people here believe that these programs are nothing more than “labor camps” and “punishments for youth”.
Allow me to clear the air a little.
Now, I’m not here to discredit anyone’s negative experience or to say your experience wasn’t traumatic in any way. I’m not here to tell you that you can’t feel the way you feel about these places. My condolences go to the family’s or friends that have lost a loved one because of these programs. May they rest in peace.
I’m here to shed some light on this topic in a perspective, from someone that lived it, that maybe you haven’t considered yet.
Let me start by sharing a lil info about me. My name is Ian. I am 23 years old. Born and raised in Wisconsin later moved to North Carolina where I live today. My life hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. If I were to go into full detail of all the major life events that led me to who I am today, it would probably take me a whole day to share completely the full “trauma” of my “troubled youth”. Nobody likes that guy anyway, so I’ll spare you the bullshit.
Here’s some credibility to the naysayer’s, who I’m sure are gonna ride me up and down for this post.
Lacrosse juvenile detention center (WI): 14-15 years old In and out for weeks-months
New vision wilderness program (WI): 15 years old 3 months
Winnebago mental health institute (WI): 15 years old 1 month
New vision wilderness program (WI): (Yes I went a second time) 15 years old 2 months
Montford Hall residential substance abuse treatment center and therapeutic boarding school for boys (NC): 15-16 years old 6 months (Court ordered for a year, kicked out for being unmanageable)
Second nature/blue ridge wilderness program (GA): 16 years old 1 month
Mission hospital Copestone (NC): 16 years old 2 weeks
Discovery School of Virginia for boys (VA): 16-17 years old 1 year
In total:
1 - juvenile detention center 2 - psych wards 3 - wilderness programs 2 - boarding schools
I wasn’t at home from the age of 15-17 years old. All my birthdays and holidays were spent in some jail cell, institution, or some program somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
Calling ourselves survivors is absurd. There was never any real danger to your life, you and I both know that. (Again, this is directed more towards the people that have either attended some of the same programs/treatments or have attended a place very similar to it.) Especially at DSVA or any wilderness program.
We were fed three times a day with edible food, full portions, even including snacks now and then. We were given clean drinking water. We were able to practice good hygiene, like brushing your teeth twice a day, taking warm showers, given clean towels and clothes that bested the outdoors, even toilet paper to wipe your own ass. Our sleep schedule was better than that of what we have today, at least 8 hours of sleep. I remember having about 10 hours of sleep every single night. And no matter where we laid our head at night, we always had something over us to protect us from the elements. Whether it was a tarp, a tent, or for the lucky ones, a literal roof.
Everything that I have just listed above is every humans basic needs for survival. Something the programs I attended always made sure we had. To call ourselves survivors means we were battling death in order to live. When was there ever a situation at these programs where you were in a life or death scenario? Coming from someone that has hiked in -20 degree blizzards of northern wisconsin and worked in 90 degree humidity in the clay of Virginia, sounds pretty over dramatic buddy.
When I first heard of people calling themselves “survivors” that went to similar programs as me, I had to laugh. It’s such a ridiculous thing to say and I always get second hand embarrassment. I have never once in my life considered myself a “survivor” of these programs because if it wasn’t for ME and MY ACTIONS, I wouldn’t be there in the first place.
The only logical explanation I would accept for anyone here wallowing in their own self-pity is that you didn’t actually work the program. What I mean by that is that you “faked it till you made it” and you put on this smile pretending everything was all good in your world so that nobody called on you when it came time to work on yourself.
To tell you the truth, we used to pick on kids like that in my group. You were perceived as weak by your group mates if you couldn’t talk about the things that hurt you, especially with a bunch of guys that your forced to live with everyday. If you didn’t want to fess up to your issues, we made sure to call a group meeting so you could get that off your chest. Why? Because it’s not about you. It’s about the group, and if one man has a bad day, then the whole group has a bad day. We’re not saying you can’t have a bad day, but we’re not gonna let you slow down the group because of it.
That was group Dakota DSVA 2016-17 right there baby. We were always on top, always eating in the lodge, never had some kid ruining our fun because we didn’t rock with that selfish crap. You want to cry about having to dig out a tree stump with Mr. Outland all day or push wheelbarrows all day? Tough luck kid, we all had to do it at one point or another. Grow a pair and keep your head up.
Most of the kids that complained about everything were the rich kids with daddy’s money who never spent a night outside their bougie gated community. LOL. You know who you are. All mad because their parents wouldn’t let their spoiled kid buy drugs with their money anymore. Sorry you got “gooned” buddy. Each time I showed up to a program I was in shackles and chains, cry harder.
Some people here will probably think what I’ve said so far is insensitive, maybe even harsh, but I ask you, what good does it do you to complain constantly about what happened to you in the past? Have you benefited from whining about what happened to you at these places?
I used to think and react the same way you people did not too long ago. I used to have that victim mentality. I’d walked around crying “woe is me”, but nothing changed. The world kept spinning and I felt like I was left behind in a world that could never understand the mental anguish I received from these “horrible” places.
Turns out I was right, they could never understand. Why? Because they never experienced it, but we did. That makes us stronger in so many ways. I used to feel sad that I never took a cute girl to prom, only to realize that while people were finishing up high school in some boring class, I was going from state to state backpacking and hiking for miles. Living outside for months on end, battling the elements, making amazing friends, reaching new destinations and seeing amazing views. I was doing things that my peers today will probably never get to experience in their lifetime. It gave me a feeling of pride that I still cherish to this day. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
It hurt not being home. I hated my parents for allowing the courts to keep sending me to these places. I refused to write them, but I knew it wasn’t their fault. It was me who put myself in those programs, not the court, not my family, I alone made my life that way, because of my actions. Not being able to be at home with my sister, who grew up without her older brother for 3 years, that broke my heart. When my parents were allowed to visit me it was a special occasion full of celebration, especially when I got to see my little sister again. All my hard work to see my family each time made me feel not just accomplished, but a happiness that I rarely feel today. It reminds me of how grateful I am for my family, and forgiving me for the hell that I put them through in my former years.
I used to think I deserved an apology for what I went through. I’ve taken my accountability, where’s the sympathy for me? I blamed everyone else for what happened to me, and maybe there’s some truth in that, but when I considered how I got to these programs it made me realize how wrong I was. I used to think the reason I was in those programs was because my parents didn’t want to parent me, or that the court system failed me.
Nah, it’s because I was a troubled kid. With a lot of anger and a lot of pain that no ordinary therapist could even begin to scratch the surface of. I needed that tough love that I never got, and if it wasn’t for these programs, I wouldn’t be who I am today. Someone who is happy with what they’ve got.
Anyways, take what you will from all of this. I just wanted to put this out there for the world to see in case somebody sees it and realizes they relate to it. Our past doesn’t have to define us, and it can make us warriors instead of victims. Nobody’s gonna make that decision for you. It’s up to you to create a brighter future.

Since I was about 28 all I wanted was to get married and have a baby. I wanted it so badly. More than anything. Just seeing babies I would feel that deep yearning. Baby fever I suppose. I couldn’t wait to nurture my kids and relive the good parts of childhood. Watch them grow with my husband as a team.
Then I fell for someone who is a fence sitter leaning STRONGLY no. If I had known this (I thought we were on the same page..we discussed it early on..but things changed..) I probably wouldn’t have dated him. We’ve been together 2 years and I am contemplating ending it now which of course is just depressing and crushing.
I’m 36 now, and I froze my eggs THREE times when I was 35 to give myself a decent chance of a baby or two from those eggs. I just knew if I was investing in that I had to get to a good “number” so I had no regrets one day.
The problem is, I think my boyfriend’s negativity and ambivalence rubbed off on me. I see so many painful and negative situations with kids and no longer have the rose colored glasses. Dealing with my niece and nephew when they cry is exhausting and not fun. But as a person, I am patient, nurturing, and have dealt with so many situations other people could not, I used to be a nurse in a children’s hospital and I loved my job. I’m used to taking care of sick children and it never deterred me before. I still had joy with kids and wanted my own.
Thinking of my kid growing up and struggling in school, having a mental health issue, a car accident or just being a jerk to me depresses me. Maybe it’s not worth it. Thinking of them becoming an adult and us possibly not being close depresses me. Maybe it’s just all over-rated. Thinking of never having a kid and growing old without loved ones around depresses me. It’s probably my worst fear. Thinking of never sharing the joy of my child with my aging parents in their final years depresses me. Thinking of leaving my boyfriend to have a baby with some hypothetical other man or a sperm donor depresses me. Thinking of staying with my boyfriend and never having kids depresses me. I guess if you’re reading this, do everything in your power not to end up in my situation. I know his ambivalence has influenced me, but I can’t help but think about both sides of the coin and feel like I don’t know what to do with my life anymore.

Hi everyone….i need some help. I’ve been with my husband for 8 years, married for 1.5. He is currently out of the country to visit family, a trip I was totally fine with and glad he is able to go on. I was in a bad car accident earlier this year and I was out of work for 3 months so I don’t have any sick time left (unless I take in unpaid) until July 1st.
This is probably the longest my husband and I have been apart since we moved in together. He’s gone for 12 days. We have a dog and 2 cats but no kids. So I was really nervous about him leaving because I’m going to miss him plus he’s been doing alot of things around the house like more dog walks and lifting heavy things because I really messed up my back in the car accident I was in and he does most of the “lifting” since I can’t. (I’m hopefully having back surgery over the summer but I have 11 herniated discs and finding the source of the pain is hard)
But other than that heavy lifting he does he’s not great at other house hold chores and the mental labor of the relationship. Like buying the gifts for family parties, scheduling house maintenance or vet appts. The things that generally fall on the female part of the partnership and are exhausting by hard to articulate or visualize.
Since he’s been gone I of course miss him, but life has been much easier. I do about 1/3 of the laundry and the dishes. The first 5-7 days I slept so much because I think I was just that exhausted. It was awesome that all the house chores were done on Friday within a few hours of getting home from work and then sat and Sunday I was able to work my part time job or just…sleep.
I want to be clear, him and I not having a good balance on household tasks does not make him a bad husband or mean we need a divorce. He was diagnosed with ADHD last year and has been doing much better with time blindness and executive function and we’ve talked about household tasks before and in my head I think we were doing better but based on how hard I crashed this week, I am clearly still shouldering way too much, also combined with I went back to work way too early but needed to go the $$.
I did mention to my husband that we need to have a talk about the current decision of labor once he gets home. So how do we do this. I feel like we need a visual for how much I am doing that goes towards the couple benefit vs how much he is doing so we can split it more equally. I know he will be open to it but I need a way for him to see it because me just saying “I need you to help out around the house more” is bs because he’s not “helping” me, he’s cleaning up after his own mess. Part of me wants to say for 2 weeks we seperate food and laundry. So he can see how much more dishes he produces that me (we works and cooks at home 2x a week) and how much more laundry he produces since he works out and I can’t right now. Otherwise I’m thinking maybe a chore chart to show what we are all doing but I haven’t found any that track the emotional labor part well.
I am open to suggestions and appreciate your help!

Sorry for the wall of text. I’m not sure where to post or start as I’ve been struggling with these symptoms for going on three months now. I’m wondering if anyone has any similar experiences or advice for me since I’ve been told this is basically IBS from a few doctors.
This all started about the second week of March this year. It started off with lower right abdominal discomfort, I wouldn’t even say it was pain as I could ignore it and live my life. Week or two goes by and it gets more persistent and more annoying with inconsistent stools, mushy stools, undigested stools, diarrhea only a few times.
Informed my GI doc about this. She ordered a stool panel and CT of abdomen and blood work. Ordered vancomycin until stool test came back. Stool panel came back negative for any viruses or bacteria, occult negative, CT negative. Stopped taking vancomycin but symptoms still persisted. CBC showed elevated neutrophils and decrease lymphocytes with elevated serum protein.
A week later, a new symptoms started. What I can only describe as intense bloating/nausea. It was extremely uncomfortable to the point I didn’t want to eat and couldn’t eat. This happened, if I can remember correctly over the span of two weeks. Then a week later it seemed like symptoms died down to where I could eat normal food. Figured it was a bad GI bug and stopped worrying.
About a week later symptoms came back, doesn’t seem as intense as before but still uncomfortable and still had inconsistent stools. GI doc ordered a EGD and colonoscopy for me which I completed, basically negative, just showed inactive mild gastritis and mild GERD.
After the procedures I was still experiencing the symptoms but able to eat. Symptoms improved so much that there was a period of two days where I felt almost 100% normal with normal stool. The third day, symptoms started again with mushy stools like before. Ordered another set of labs from my GI doc, my neutrophils got even higher, my lymphocytes decreased more and serum protein got higher.
This past week, I’ve felt the bloating and nausea again, I am able to eat normal foods mostly but it’s uncomfortable because I feel slight nausea all day.
I’ve tried probiotics, doesn’t help. Tried basic foods like chicken and rice, same results with basic foods, so there’s no food sensitivity or allergies. Tried a different brand of probiotic, nothing changed. My GI doc says IBS even with lab changes. Got a second opinion from GI doc, IBS as well and put me on omeprazole and dicyclomine as needed. Made a follow up with my primary, he said IBS and wasn’t worried about my labs.
I have felt better than I did when I first experienced this in March but it seems like this comes in waves and hasn’t improved over the past month. My stools seem more formed now, still get inconsistent sometimes. Most doctors dismiss my symptoms. Does anyone experience these symptoms too with IBS? I’m wondering if I have an infection that hasn’t gone away and has caused IBS symptoms but I’m unsure. I’m just reaching out, looking for guidance and advice and ultimately hope. I never get sick, I’m active and eat semi healthy before this. It has caused a lot of anxiety and slight depression for me and my wife. I’m at a loss of what to do.

Last June, I [27M, 26 at the time] was being medically discharged from the Army. I decided that going back to school would help me further my passion for a career in sports. 4 weeks until my discharge I was accepted into a top 25 uni; one of my top choices. The day I got out of the Army, I hopped on the road and went started to make my way to campus for orientation (I had less than 36 hours before it began).
The summer and fall semester was great, I actually felt as if I belonged and for once in my life, I was starting to enjoy school. Until I was hit with a major bump in the road. During winter break (first week of January) I was hit with a No Contact Order by a Title IX, out of nowhere. Apparently, a classmate was told by another classmate (gossip) that I referred to her as a b word (which I never did, anything I said about her was out of love and respect) but all of this year I was treated as if I were some “demon”. The cohort ostracized me and Title IX was treating me like I committed some crime. My program directors said they were going to support me but every time I spoke to them I felt as if they hated me and that I was not welcomed. I knew this feeling all too well for I had just experienced it not even a year ago. All of my friends had been given orders to be stationed all over the world and I was the only one of my training class still stateside; I was alone.
Fast forward, I’ve had to relieve this experience yet again. I graduated this past Saturday, my struggle had finally met its conclusion but I still feel this anger and betrayal. That girl nor my former classmates never apologized for what she and they did, how I was alienated from social gatherings. Despite me trying to apologize to her before the order was given she said she didn’t care, so I left it as it was. I had a meeting with Title IX in late April, they had told me this order was meant as protection for both of us but I expressed my pain and frustration, stating “this was never protection, it was retaliation”. My experience was ruined, trust in the university was eviscerated. They asked if they could initiate some restoration conversations with my cohort but I told them “damage is done, we’re 3 weeks from graduation; they don’t give a sh**”.
Sorry for this lengthy thread but I’ve had to fight this grueling battle since January, my question is should I try another 1 year program somewhere else to cancel out this bad experience? Also, how do I not hate my alma mater when it was mainly the students and faculty who I had a problem with? Thank you all in advance.

Hi…this will be long. Heh, that’s what she said.
Well, I’ll start with where I am: Divorced, over my ex, barely see my son, 42, small group of friends, dating a divorced mom. My job is easy but boring. Live alone. Can’t have pets. That sums it up.
Eh, I screwed up pretty bad. I admitted to my gf I snooped on her devices because I thought something was going on. I was wrong. Betrayal trauma is some real shit. She’s giving me one last chance. But it came at a price having to rebuild that trust. She’s the sweetest thing. It hurts knowing what I did. I was married 16 years to a cheater and it warped me. I lost myself. The woman I did this to…I want her to be my wife.
My son is a good kid. So proud of him. My ex back in 2017 said she needed to leave for family reasons and we had major house repairs needed before we could sell. She left me there. Acting like that was normal. I missed over a year with my son. Contractor was backed up bad. I had my dog at least. And I was still able to take showers even if it was hose water. Lol you learn to take a hose shower in winter in under two minutes. In my down time I had nothing better to do than think about all the red flags my wife ever gave me and dig. Long story short I was shown a picture of her with another guy. Dude snuck his phone in our room.
The home got finished and sold. Moved. Tried fixing the marriage. Stupid mistake. Finally told her I wanted out and we both didn’t handle it like adults. She would joke and swipe men on apps while I was busy getting played by a married woman. How I fell. I’ll tell you folks right now…putting your integrity back together is easier said than done.
I don’t know why I’m here to experience all of this pain if I’m not strong enough or getting tired. I’m so tired. Don’t get me wrong I’m scared to end it. Life can be awesome and I look at people who have a great career, friends, family, marriage and I’m happy for them. I look at fathers who get to play catch with their son or teach him things, and feel awesome for that guy. I look at a marriage where two people don’t lie to each other and love each other unconditionally and think that’s amazing.
I don’t know what else to say. I’m tired and I don’t feel like doing this anymore.

I was on Cymbalta as the first line of treatment for my nerve pain and depression, and that shit back fired so hard.
Before starting this medication I had absolutely no cardiovascular issues. I had very average blood pressure. I was active and on my feet a lot despite my chronic pain, but never once had I shown any signs beforehand of something being possibly wrong with my heart.
I was on 30mg for 3 weeks, and I didn’t feel awful, but something just wasn’t correct feeling. I was getting dizzy and my heart rate was more insane than I remembered it being. Once I was upped to 60mg thats where shit went really wrong.
I would full on pass out from just standing, I was sweating buckets, my heart felt like it was constantly trying to implode on itself and no matter what I was doing, I felt like absolute shit. I was convinced lowkey I was dying because my blood pressure and heart rate would do weird shit. My heart rate was rocketing up to the 130+ and my blood pressure was plummeting. I lowered my dose back to 30 hoping maybe it’d go away. It never did. I was off that med by week 6 and I have never felt normal since then.
It’s been two years since then, I was freshly 17 when I started Cymbalta and I am now 19. I am still feeling its lasting effects. Doing anything nowadays feels like i’m gonna drop dead at any moment, and it’s just kinda getting worse. I was told that I would return back to normal after a few weeks of stopping the med, and i’m so devastated that I never returned back to normal.
It’s gotten so bad nowadays that even walking my bus stop 4 minutes away makes my chest feel a bit tight and gets me lightheaded. Walking up my apartment stairs makes me feel like i’m gonna actually die, I end up leaning over my kitchen sink trying to just breathe and get the severe chest and upper back to calm down. I have nearly passed out several times in my kitchen because I climbed 16 steps.
I’m finally just seeing an actual cardiologist after finally snapping from this hell. I had previously expressed to my PCP that I had some sort of issue with my heart after this medication, but it wasn’t a major concern as I am juggling so many different things. Then I was borderline coding in a walmart just trying to get groceries and accepted that I couldn’t just ignore this issue anymore as I really didn’t want to actually drop dead before figuring out what went wrong.
I’m unsure if without this medication i’d have these issues, maybe I had them minor before and the medication turned them up to extreme. Who knows! Hopefully my cardiologist (who is luckily the best one outside of my state biggest city).
So, anyone else stuck in heart issue hell because of this med? Or am I just honest to god a medical ticking time bomb?

I've been feeling really lonely lately and the fact that I'm still a virgin gets me down bad. I just wish I was a normal person. I work part time at the mall and it's so hard seeing happy couples everywhere and hear my co-workers talk about their relationships. I've been crying every night now and my mum has noticed and is really worried about me. I don't want her to worry or be a burden on her. I'm at the point where all my peers are getting engaged and married, and I haven't even gone on one date. I just want to fade away into the darkness, never to be heard from again. Sometimes I have fantasies about moving to Tibet and becoming a monk, just so I would have a valid excuse for being celibate. I get especially jealous of younger guys that have amazing sexual experiences, especially in college. It's embarrassing to be a 25 year old virgin when there are 20 years olds in happy relationships and having sex all the time. This pain, loneliness, and constant crying to myself is affecting my work, mental state, and has caused me to flunk my semester of school (again for the 3rd time). I just can't seem to get out of this pain, it seems theres only one way to escape it but I'm too much of a wuss to go through with it....

I’m struggling so badly in school, I can’t organize myself, I’m always lost and too far behind to even start asking questions, and I’m failing a class and have a D in another and I have literally a week until graduation. I have just gradually gotten worse every year since middle school and now I’m at rock bottom. Depression and executive dysfunction has me laying in bed for hours thinking about how I’m wasting my time and the millions of things I should do but can’t. And my memories gotten so bad to the point I couldn’t even remember where my BF is going to college or when I forgot if I paid at a store right after paying and having to ask the cashier if I did. And getting so overwhelmed when it comes to doing work it feels physically painful.
Everyone says I’m making excuses but I don’t know how to explain that my ADHD mixed with depression is drowning me and I haven’t had a permanent therapist in over 6 months and don’t even have appointments until after I graduate.
It’s like I’m unable to fix myself and everyone thinks it’s all my fault and I’m slowly believing them but I don’t want to believe that im just lazy and know that I can’t change it, please any words of advice that aren’t just “try harder” or even encouragement?

Sunday 5/12 got an EXTREME toothache in upper canine area with a big bubble on the roof of my mouth. Was having trouble finding a dentist to get me in quickly so my PCP called me in amoxicillin 875 for 10 days to help until I could since they assumed it to be an abscess. Started antibiotics on 5/14. Got into dentist on 5/17 and had the tooth he suspected extracted (he tapped on them to see which caused most pain). The bubble and pain did not stop immediately after extraction and he told me just to keep taking the antibiotics I already had. Woke up with the bubble gone and very minimal pain on 5/20. Today 5/21 I have no pain, but lately, when I’m on amoxicillin I’ve been having a severe increase of anxiety (or anxiety symptoms that cause anxiety) and it’s very hard to function (working on anxiety disorder). Is it necessary to finish the full 10 days of the antibiotics? I’m following my dentist orders but I only ask because I’ve been told in the past by a different dentist that antibiotics after abscess extraction isn’t necessary and are just used to help with pain while people wait for an appointment, and I’d rather not have the side effects unnecessarily. The dentist is 80 years old and has the old school thought of antibiotics for everything, which I know most med professionals are starting to get away from. But I also have other bad teeth in the same area so maybe it’s beneficial to finish it if they are causing issues too? Thank you for any advice.

I've been feeling really lonely lately and the fact that I'm still a virgin gets me down bad. I just wish I was a normal person. I work part time at the mall and it's so hard seeing happy couples everywhere and hear my co-workers talk about their relationships. I've been crying every night now and my mum has noticed and is really worried about me. I don't want her to worry or be a burden on her. I'm at the point where all my peers are getting engaged and married, and I haven't even gone on one date. I just want to fade away into the darkness, never to be heard from again. Sometimes I have fantasies about moving to Tibet and becoming a monk, just so I would have a valid excuse for being celibate. I get especially jealous of younger guys that have amazing sexual experiences, especially in college. It's embarrassing to be a 25 year old virgin when there are 20 years olds in happy relationships and having sex all the time. This pain, loneliness, and constant crying to myself is affecting my work, mental state, and has caused me to flunk my semester of school (again for the 3rd time). I just can't seem to get out of this pain, it seems theres only one way to escape it but I'm too much of a wuss to go through with it....

The stress of the last six months has nearly killed me. Besides the general cratering of the outside world—political strife, climate change, inflated rents, corporate greed, and the baffling resurgence of crew socks—my internal life was falling apart, too. I'm at the point where I can't see a way out of the darkness, and that feeling has only grown in the last few days.
My struggles ramped up exponentially in the last two weeks. It started when my long-term girlfriend and I called it quits after five years. There was no definitive relationship-altering fight or infidelity. It was simply the boring banality of the "roommate-ification" of our lives together. We both felt the shift but never talked about it. Turns out communication is important.
Truthfully, we'd stayed together for so long because we couldn't afford to live apart. Our rent had nearly doubled the last time we re-upped our lease but even that was a bargain compared to what was out there currently. We were trapped by our need to have a roof over our heads.
My job had stagnated, and I couldn't find anything better. I was stuck. Like me, she'd been job hunting as well. Unlike me, she had a master's, and her prospects should've been higher. They weren't. For five months, she applied to hundreds of jobs and couldn't break through. If she got a rejection email, it was a win. Most of the time, the companies never responded.
Finally, she found a great opportunity at a Fortune 500 company. It was an involved process. She nailed the five interviews, and her "test project" was well received. She was offered the position, and it came with a massive pay increase—double her current salary. I was proud of her—she needed a win. We celebrated with pizza and beer that night.
Two days later, she dropped the bomb that she was breaking things off. The relationship ending wasn't a surprise. The timing was. The discussion was brief, and there was zero chance of reconciliation. She declined when I asked if she could stay until the lease ended. Mentally, it would've been too much for her. Two days after that, she moved out, taking half the rent with her. I was stuck in a lease I couldn't afford on my salary for the next six months.
My free time evaporated as I took on two extra gigs to help make ends meet. In addition to my office nine to five, I drove for a delivery app on the weekends and took a part-time night job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. When I wasn't hustling for housing, I slept or ate. I did nothing beyond that. Nothing brings me joy. There is no spark.
This drudgery has become my daily routine, and it's killing me.
To help cover some cost gaps, I've started selling off some of my stuff online. It was just me here, and I decided that the Spartan lifestyle would have to work for now. Anything I could fetch a decent amount for went up for sale. My apartment is so empty now every noise causes an echo.
Before my shift at the grocery store, I agreed to meet someone who wanted to take a look at my kitchen table. It was a lovely table – my ex had obsessed over it – but I didn't see a need at the moment. Now that I was a bachelor, my TV trays became my default kitchen tables anyway. I wasn't planning on any dinner parties in the future anyway.
A couple showed up later than they said they would. It was a bored-looking guy and a fastidious young woman. She made friendly small talk as she looked over the table. Her boyfriend (I think) stayed quiet and played bodyguard. I gave him a friendly nod at one point, and he just looked away. She said they'd take it without trying to talk me down. I took the small win.
She asked if I could help carry it down to their truck. I was running late, but feeling helpful, even for a fleeting few seconds, was worth it. Her silent boyfriend and I hauled the table through the hallway and even managed to avoid hitting the walls the entire way down.
I placed it in their truck, got my money, and turned to leave. The girl said thanks, and the boyfriend finally returned the nod. I gave a weird half-wave to them both and started to walk away when I heard the passenger window being rolled down.
"Hey man," the boyfriend said, his voice higher pitched than I thought it would. "What was up with your brother giving us the evil eye in the lobby when we got here?"
I turned around, "Huh? I don't have a brother."
"A cousin then?"
"My family lives about a thousand miles away. What happened in the lobby?"
"A dude that looked just like you was hiding in a dark hallway in the lobby and staring at my girl's ass."
"Jacob, really," she said.
"I'm sorry that happened, but I had nothing to do with it. We do have the occasional homeless guy meander in. Maybe you saw one of them," I said. "Did he say or do anything bad?"
"Jacob, I asked you to not say something," the girl said, burying her head in her hands.
Jacob's frosty attitude to me made sense now. "He said something about running up that ass. I dunno, he was mumbling. I told him I'd beat his ass if he didn't stop staring. Seemed to shut him up."
"Oh. Well, congrats," I said. "I'll tell the manager. Thanks for letting me know."
"You should do a better job keeping jokers like that out of the building."
"Jacob, he's not a security guard."
"He should still be a man and protect his home."
"Have a good night," I said, ending the conversation and heading back up to my apartment. I had about five minutes to change and head out before I'd be late. Last thing my ego needed was to be fired from my backup job.
Thankfully, I was able to slip into work and not get spotted by my boss. That was the last of the good news, though. We had a massive weekly order come in, which meant I'd be there late, plus someone had called out. Worse, our hand truck had a flat tire, and I spent the next few hours torturing my muscles, schlepping heavy boxes around the store. I soldiered on, counting down the minutes until I left and fantasizing about going to bed for the night.
If wishing for sleep wasn't a sad statement to my mental well-being, nothing was.
I came home after my shift at the grocery store and plopped down on the couch. I had contemplated selling it, but it was an older Ikea number, and I didn't think the value would replace my desire to sit. I could feel my body sink into the cushions, and the day's tension seep out. I was beat and tired to the point that turning on the TV was a chore.
I picked up my phone and thought I'd doomscroll until sleep overtook me. I didn't expect it to be a long scroll, as even the methadone that is my phone has failed me lately. As I lowered myself from a slumped position to a supine one, I heard footsteps outside my apartment door. This was not unusual, but the noise I heard sounded like kid footsteps. That was unusual, as nobody on our floor had kids, and it was almost midnight.
Despite my body screaming at me to not move, my brain suggested I check it out. I rolled myself off the couch and eventually stood up. I listened again and heard the kid running down the hallway. I walked over to my door and looked out the peephole. I didn't see anyone.
"Maybe I'm dreaming," I said to myself. "Maybe I'm not staring out a peephole, expecting to see a kid running down the hall at midnight, but instead, I'm cuddled up in my bed, snoozing." I pinched my arm and felt the pain. I was definitely in the waking world.
I turned to head back to the couch when I heard the running again, this time louder. I opened my door and peeked out into the hallway. Nobody was there. The door from the apartment across me opened up, too. Gloria, a young at heart grandma who was friendly/constantly buzzed in a wine mom kind of way, gave me a once over.
"You heard that, too?" she asked.
"Kids?"
"No rugrats around. I assumed it was some drunk assholes stumbling home from the bar."
I laughed. Gloria was, as always, blunt. "I didn't see any assholes," I said.
"Then you're not watching the right kind of internet videos," she said with a wink and a hoarse cackle.
I blushed. How do you respond to that? I just kind of nodded in agreement and shrugged.
"Gotta get your jollies while you can," she said before adding, "You need some rest, dear. You look like hammered shit." She shut her door and went back inside.
She was right. I felt like hammered shit. Since I wasn't going to solve the case of the mysterious runner and was sure it wasn't some lost kid, I decided to call it a night. I went back inside, shut down the apartment, and crawled into bed.
I thought about watching one of the "right kind of internet videos" but fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
***
"Your problem is you think the world owes you something."
John, my elderly coworker at the grocery store, was standing by while I unloaded a pallet of cereal. I liked John, and when I first started, we instantly clicked. He's quick with a joke and fun to talk to. He's also about thirty years older than me and speaks with the Boomer combination of accumulated wisdom, backhanded compliments, and fringe conspiracy nonsense. Still, regardless of how couched the kindness is in gobbledygook, he's usually coming from a good place.
"What?" I said, putting a box of Captain Crunch on the shelf.
"You're complaining about your situation, right? Saying it ain't fair. The world took a paddle to your hind quarters? Hey brother, that's the way the cookie crumbles. Gotta just pick yourself up and start over. You're smart enough – figured this job out right quick – you can do it."
The job was wheeling pallets around the store and stocking shelves. It wasn't much to figure out, but I understood his meaning. The other stuff wasn't necessary, though. "I'm just in a funk. I don't see a way forward."
"Hey, so you've bottomed out. No shame in that. Happens to us all. Silver lining, you can only go up," he said before adding, "Unless some other bad shit happens to you like your car dies or your apartment building burns down. But after that, it's only up."
"The apartment building burning down would be a blessing," I said, hoisting another little Captain on the shelf. "The rent is killing me."
"Have you tried negotiating a lower rent? They used to do that when I was your age."
"I think they'd evict me if I even asked."
"Hell, then you'd have at least thirty days, maybe forty, before they'd kick you out. Plenty of time to turn things around."
"Uh-huh," I said, "Any chance you could give me a hand here?"
"My back is screaming like a pretty young thing after prom," he said, holding his back for emphasis.
I didn't push. "Hey, I meant to tell you about some weird shit that happened the other night."
"Lay it on me. I love the strange."
"So, after my shift the other day, I got home around midnight and was flopped on the couch. I heard someone running down the hallway outside my apartment. I wasn't the only one. A few other neighbors heard it, too. When we checked, though, nobody was there."
"That ain't strange," John said, waving his hand, "that's a man who's plowing another man's wife running for his life."
I laughed. "That's not the weird part. So, for the next two nights, it's the same thing. Around midnight, someone runs down the hallway. Only this time, they're trying the door handles as they pass. So, I asked the front desk to check the security cameras, and they do."
"They see a man running away holding his clothes?"
"There wasn't anyone running down the hall," I said, "But the weird thing was, you could see the door handles turning on the video."
"Damn, that's a good one," John said, "You sure it wasn't just a camera glitch. These new ones from overseas aren't as reliable as they want you to think. Chinese probably using them to spy on you, too."
He continued as my brain tried to reconcile John's two opposing comments. "Weird shit happens at night, man. Before working here, I only worked the day shift. Even when they offered me more money to work nights, I turned it down. Even when they promised me a promotion, I turned them down."
In a previous life, John had worked as a paramedic. He came by it after serving in a medical unit in the army. He'd told me he loved the rush of the job, but after a while, the death and hurt in people's eyes got to be too much to handle. But he worked there for almost twenty years. So, the man had a tolerance for shenanigans and odd occurrences.
"Why'd you agree to work nights here?"
"Shit, we're home before the witching hour. This is like late afternoons, at best. But if it was overnights, hell no. Captain Crunch can anchor his own ship to the shelves. I'd take my ass to 7-11 for a day shift before agreeing to work an overnight."
"Something happen to you during the army?”
“I got the clap,” he offered.
I sighed. “What turned you off nights?"
"Oh. I heard enough stories from coworkers to know I didn't want to experience any of that hoo-doo shit," he said, "trying to save someone's life is hard enough without adding in demon kids and ghosts."
"Did your coworkers see demon kids?" I asked, moving on from the good Captain to the Trix rabbit.
He nodded, "They saw too much. I find it odd, even with all the surveillance we have now and all the science we know about these days, that the night still scares us. You ever know someone who worked a night shift?"
I had. My ex. During college, she worked the overnight desk at a hotel for a while. She quit because the job gave her bad vibes. I told John as much.
He pointed and laughed, "See! Don't you find it odd that every person who works at night always has a story of something eerie happening to them? Every person, buster. That's what they call an irrefutable fact."
"Maybe the ghost running down the hallway is an old employee still doing his rounds."
"In that case, keep that door double locked. I'd even wedge a towel under the door just in case."
"Maybe they're friendly? Casper-like in that way."
"You ever heard someone tell you about a friendly ghost outside the funny papers?"
"I'm sure it happens," I said, "The scary ghosts are more popular though."
“We think we know everything there is to know but we are just babes in the woods when it comes to night things.” John shook his head. "Imma tell you one or three things that happened to a guy I worked with back when I first got hired on to chase after corpses in the ambo. Guy's name was Gil. Quiet man, kept to himself. Didn't rock the boat or demand a bigger paddle. Just rowed with us. Good cat to learn under," John said, finally handing me a cereal box.
I took it, and he kept going, "Now, Gil, ya see, he had a little wifey that would pester him about working days. She was a cop and worked evenings at that time, so they never saw each other. When married people can't align their genitals every now and then, it spells doom."
"A little too much information but sure," I said, shelving another box of Trix.
"Probably part of what happened with you and yours," he said. He wasn't wrong, but that didn't mean I wanted to hear it.
John kept on, "Gil finally got approved to move to nights. Little pay boost and a happy, 'fulfilled' wife should've made that man happy. But it didn't. I saw him a few months later, and he had changed. He might've been quiet when he was working with me, but he'd talk to you if you engaged. When I saw him that time, though, oh boy. He looked sick."
"Wasn't a fan of working nights?"
"Wasn't a fan of living anymore is the feeling I got," John said, "After some prodding, he got to talking with me some. Told me he missed days because the nights were messing with him. I thought it had to do with the schedule change, but that wasn't the case. He said he saw things in the dark he couldn't explain. Things that would turn James Brown into James White, ya dig?"
"I...dig," I said.
"Told me they got a call to an abandoned apartment building one night, around three in the morning. Wasn't unusual. Old buildings in the city are where hop-heads congregate and share drugs. Sometimes, the drugs are too much. Sometimes, they find a person passed out or, worse, dead. When you work in the ambo, you aren't scared of death like a civilian. You've been around it. Probably seen a few folks take their last breaths. It doesn't bother you the way Mother Nature intended it should."
He handed me another box, continuing his assist streak, and kept going, "Ambo pulled up, Gil stepped out and looked for someone to talk to. Nobody there, though. Not uncommon. Some people want to help but not be involved. There's not a soul around. He calls out, but nothing comes back. Tells me he turns to get back in the ambulance when he hears a scream from inside the run-down building. They're calling for help. He's gotta go in the abandoned building in the dark."
"No thanks," I said.
"But it don't bother a medic like that. Gil's done a million of these calls. No big deal. He runs into that building but doesn't come back out until twenty minutes later. Just goes missing. After five, the crew heads in to back him up but can't find him. Gil tells me his crew called the cops. It was like he had vanished."
"What happened?"
"I asked him and he got real quiet. Said he fell into some place that looked like here but wasn't here. Said he felt their eyes on him. Judging him. Told me they followed him home and wouldn't leave him be."
"Who?"
John shrugged, "He didn't say. Shut down after that and left. Just walked past me like I was shit on the sidewalk. He quit about a week later. Heard he had a stroke a year later and was a tombstone owner three months after that. Good guy, though."
"Your aversion to overnights makes a little more sense."
"Never in a million years. You don't want something like that coming after you."
"In my case, could it get much worse?" I said with a half-smile.
"Man, I wouldn't even joke about that," he said, making the sign of the cross, "You don't want that shit attachin' itself to you. With your luck, you'd bring him in here, and it'd hop over to me. I can't have a ghost crimping my style."
After a bit, he got called away to sign off on a delivery. I finished out my shift and headed out to the parking lot. When I exited the building and spotted my car, I froze. My doors were all open, and the interior lights were on. Someone had broken in.
I glanced around the lot to see if the thief was still around, but there wasn't another person near me. I walked over to the car and peered inside. My glovebox had been ripped open, and my registration was pulled out, but nothing else was missing.
I found little hand prints in the dirt all along the body and the windows. I held mine up for comparison, and they were about half the size. It must've been some tweens or teens who did this. Maybe they were going to steal some things and got cold feet. I contemplated calling the cops, but since nothing had happened and they wouldn't do anything anyway, there was no reason to delay sleep any longer than I had to. I closed all the doors and climbed inside.
I started the car and heard something rattling in the AC vents. I pulled out my phone and shined the light at the vent. There was a small piece of paper inside. I looked around my car for some tool to pull it out and only found an ink pen and a bent-up paperclip. After McGuyvering the vent for a bit, the paper finally came out.
I held it up and unfolded it. There was a handwritten note. It simply read, "I know you're here. I know you're hiding him. I will find you both, and then it'll be your turn to run the race. We all have to run at some point."
I had no idea what that meant, but my body still provided goosebumps. Who was trying to find me? Who was the second person? Why leave a note in my AC vent? What the hell did run the race mean? I hadn't run a race since elementary school and wasn't planning to do so any time soon. Did they mean the rat race? Because I was basically marathoning that motherfucker already.
"Jesus Christ," I said, shaking my head. "What else, universe?"
As if it were a well-practiced comedy routine, the universe responded. My back passenger door swung open, and I heard footsteps running away from my car. I sprung up and scrambled to get out. There wasn't anyone else in the lot that I could see, but very clearly, someone had been hiding in my backseat.
My nerves were shot already, and this was not something I wanted to deal with at the moment. My brain decided that to avoid a breakdown, I needed to shift into automatic mode and just get back to the safety of my apartment. I'd be more prepared to deal with this – whatever it was – in the morning.
Either that or I'd jump in front of a bus. Both sounded satisfying, albeit in different ways.
***
"There he is," Gloria said as soon as I turned down the hallway. I looked up and noticed a small cabal of my neighbors standing in a semi-circle, waiting for me. They all look displeased.
"Hey guys," I said, confused. "I miss an invite for a block party?"
"What do you have to say for yourself?"
"About?"
"Don't play dumb," another neighbor said, jabbing their finger in my direction.
"I'm not playing," I said, realizing the self-burn only after the words escaped my lips.
Gloria showed me the screen on her phone. It was a static shot of her door from across the hall. She pressed play, and nothing happened for a beat until something darted across the screen. That was the whole thing. I looked up at her, my face twisted up in confusion.
"Well," she said, "What do you have to say?"
"What was that?" I asked.
"That was you!" the pointing neighbor said, pointing harder than I thought possible.
"What?" I said, laughing. "Are you all serious?" They didn't laugh, and I realized they weren't joking. "How can you even tell it's me? It's a blur. Never mind the fact I've been at work for the last five hours. Plus, this blur is half my size. I get we're all weirded out about the Phantom Runner, but it's not me. I swear to God. I don't even have the energy to think about running, let alone the physical desire to."
"Then explain this," Gloria said, slightly swaying from the half bottle of Pinot Noir coursing through her blood. She rewound the video and froze it on a specific frame. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I was looking at...me. Or, rather, something pretending to be me.
"What the fuck?" I said, my jaw dropping.
"Still think we're lying?" the pointer said smugly.
"No, but, guys, this isn't me. I... I've been at work. Wanna see my schedule?"
I reached into my phone and pulled it out. There was an email with my work schedule that confirmed what I was saying. They relaxed, and, for the first time, anger gave way to fear. Their very plausible explanation was suddenly invalid. It left two implausible answers floating in the ether: either I had a pint-sized doppelganger terrorizing the hallways of my apartment, or a ghost was haunting the building.
"I'm...gonna go inside," the pointer said, walking back to their home. Everyone else drifted away until it was just Gloria and I standing alone in the hallway.
She looked at me and sighed, "I feel like an asshole," she said. "Sorry I accused you of causing the racket."
"If I had seen the video, I would've thought the same thing," I said. "We're good."
"What do you think it is?" she asked.
I shrugged and let out an exhausted sigh. "Honestly, Gloria, I've had a screwed-up night already, and this is the cherry on top of the shit sundae; forgive my language. I don't have the mental bandwidth to even comprehend what's on the video at the moment."
"Think it's after you?" she asked, though I suspected the wine had forced her to put that idea out into the universe. As I had already seen, the universe seemed to take requests on my behalf.
"Maybe it's after you?" I said, coming off a little meaner than I intended, but I didn't care. I left her there to contemplate that scenario and went into my apartment.
As soon as the door shut behind me, I felt on edge. Just because I didn't have the mental bandwidth to discuss the doppelganger didn't mean it wasn't dominating my thoughts. I saw the frame of the video. The damn ghost looked exactly like me. What could that possibly mean? I know I had wished for death, but I was very still alive. I had rent due to prove that.
Did I happen to live in a place haunted by a ghost that looked strikingly like me? Was it some kid with a passing resemblance just causing chaos? Was it something else I couldn't even comprehend – an alien? A clone? A secret government project?
There was a thumping coming from the hallway. The mini Usain Bolt was at it again. I knew the neighbors would ignore it. Since they had all thought it was me, which was proven to be untrue, they would avoid the running man from now on. While curious and confused by the creature, they'd never put themselves in harm's way to discover what it was. They were not a brave lot.
Neither was I, but maybe my life crumbling around me had forced my hand. I walked over to my door and swung it open. I hit record on my phone, stuck it out like a periscope, and glanced around the hallway. Nobody was there. No neighbors were looking. No person was running.
"You gotta stop, man. I need to go to sleep," I said to the empty space. No response, not that I was expecting one.
I turned to walk back in, and I caught something out of the corner of my eye. A face at the end of the hallway peeked around the corner. For a quick second, we locked eyes, and it was like I was looking into a mirror. This thing was me. But...how?
I tried to get it on video, but it ducked back into the shadows. I took that as a cue to shut and lock my door. My heart was racing, and I didn't want to think about this anymore, but I couldn't help it. There was a me in the hallway who enjoyed pestering my neighbors. Worse, they liked to run for some ungodly reason.
I put my phone on the counter, the video still rolling, when there was a knock at my door. It echoed in my near-empty apartment. I tried to ignore it and convince myself it was something else, but it wasn't. The ghost was knocking on my door. Even with my brain paralyzed, I couldn't help but think that it was awfully polite to knock.
Another knock, this one more forceful. I wondered if the neighbors thought I was making this up?
"I know you're in there," a voice said. It sounded just like me. "This is about the race. We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I froze. My legs went wobbly like a boxer on the brink of a blackout, but I stayed tall. I opened my mouth to speak and found the words dying in my throat. I grabbed a nearby bottle of water and took a chug.
"We all have to run the race."
"What race?" I choked out, "What are you talking about?"
"Open up. They're in there already, and I need to get them."
I glanced all around my empty apartment. I didn't see anyone else in here. I didn't hear anything. Whatever this thing was, it was lying. I grabbed my phone and held it in my hand. I wanted to document this to prove that I wasn't crazy.
“Did you leave the note?”
“I know they’re in there with you,” it repeated.
"There's no one in here," I said.
"They're hiding. I think I know where. I can hear them."
"You've gotta get out of here," I said. "There's nothing here, and you're scaring people."
"I'm scared, and you should be! You have to run the race, man! Open up, and I can show you."
The handle started to shake. I peered through the keyhole and only saw the top of the other me's head. They began to shoulder the door, and it crunched against my nose. I screamed out in pain and stumbled back. I tripped over my feet and landed hard on my ass.
The thing slammed into the door two more times, shaking the walls. The strength seemed unnatural. On the third hit, the door burst open. I finally got a view of the thing. It was me. Scaled down by half, but it was me. We both seemed shocked.
"You're so much taller up close," the other me said.
"Who the fuck are you?"
I felt a buzzing in my feet that seemed to climb up my body until it reached my brain. There was an intense pain that rippled through the folds of my mind. Through the pain, I could hear a disembodied voice whisper, "We all must run the race. We all have to run. Chase it. Chase yourself." It felt like my skull was going to split in two. I clutched the sides of my head and let out a primal scream that hurt my own ears.
Then it was gone. But I could still feel the echoes in my mind. "We all have to run the race. We all have to run." The thought would waver between making no sense and making complete sense. One second, I was questioning what was happening to my mind, and the next, all I felt was the desire to continue the race.
"There he is!" the other me yelled, pointing at the hallway.
I glanced over and saw another version of me standing in the hallway. It was half the size of the other me that had broken into my place. When tiny me locked eyes with my intruder, he ran for the open hallway closet.
The other me followed, screaming that it would catch the little bastard if it was the last thing he'd do. I pushed myself up to my feet and felt queasy. I watched as the other me ran head-first into the closet without slowing. I expected to hear a loud thump as it hit the back wall but none came.
"We all have to run the race," the voice in my head said, soothing my nerves. "It's your time to run the race."
I moved down the hallway, each footfall echoing loudly in the empty apartment, each step bringing me closer to the closet door. Something was drawing me there. The voice's words echoed in my mind as well: "We all have to run the race. It's your turn now."
I grabbed the door and stopped. Something was compelling me to move forward. To go into the closet. To chase myself. To run the race.
"No," I whispered and yanked my hand from the door. I pulled out my still recording phone, and stared into the camera. My face was devoid of color, and you could see the fear etched into me. "I'm freaking out because...because…"
I stopped. I felt an invisible hand grab my body and tug. "Because...because if I don't run the race, something bad will happen. I have to chase it. I...I have to."
My phone dropped from my hand, and I didn’t care. The force pulling me forward stopped but my body kept going. I could feel the last strands of my rational mind splintering. My thoughts became focused on one thing: I had to catch myself, find out what was happening, and run the race. If I ran, maybe I'd win.
I needed a win.
I walked into the back of the closet and felt a door handle sticking out of the wall. I'd been in that closet a million times before and never had seen this. But a sense of calm washed over me. This….this was supposed to be here. This was perfectly fine.
I turned the handle and pulled open the invisible door. In front of me was a hallway that looked strikingly like the one outside my apartment. At the end of the hallway, I saw Gloria step out of their home to leave for the night. She was huge. Twice my size, easy.
Another door opened, and I saw...me—a giant version of me. The Hulk version of me was getting ready to go to the grocery store for work. I watched as the giant Gloria and giant me joked and laughed. I was stunned.
I stared, and a new thought came to me. I have to find the smaller me and talk to it. I needed to find out if there's a way out of this...this….
"It's your turn to run," the voice said.
Calm embraced me. "It's my turn to run," I repeated. As the giant me took off and the giant Gloria re-entered her apartment, the hallway beckoned.
"We all have to run the race," I said softly, "It's my turn now."
I started running.

Hey! I'm gonna go through my thought process and see if anyone else has had a similar experience. If I have some flaw in my logic please let me know, ive been identifying as nonbinary and if that's not what this is please correct me.
So, my thoughts went from: My sex traits give me nothing but pain -> I wish I were intersex/infertile/had cancegot into a terrible accident and they removed my reproductive organs. -> I've never wished for a fully finctional female reproductive system ever in my life-> I want to remove my ovaries uterus and vagina -> I don't even want to be socially associated with them -> I wish I were androgynous -> ive never felt like a woman, but that's not a bad thing -> lets try neutral pronouns -> I like neutral pronouns -> lets try not caring about "looking conventionally pretty or feminine" -> I like men clothes as well as womens clothes, I like more body hair, I like the idea of facial hair, I still like jewelry and makeup -> Lets try a neutral sounding name -> this is better -> I'm nonbinary.
Let me know if this makes any sense. Thank you!

Hello!!
Sorry if this ends up being a long and unformatted post, but I need help from someone who understands a bit more than I do.
I (21F) unknowingly got a UTI back in October when I got my IUD put in. I'm assuming that's when it happened, because when they did my analysis I had two types of bacteria causing my uti, proteus mirabelis and klebsiella pneumoniae, and those two (specifically klebsiella) seem to come specifically from medical settings, and since my doctor was in a rush (I was his last patient of the day before having to go to the hospital for a delivery), I don't think he was being as careful as he should've been with washing hands and stuff. I didn't know that I had a UTI until almost a month ago when I went into the ER for excruciating pain, the worst pain I've ever felt.
I had none of the common symptoms of UTIs, but I was increasingly losing my appetite, vomiting, nausea, fatigue, severe pain in my right side and back... the whole nine yards. I thought it was either side effects from the IUD being put in (I was told these were all side effects to except for up to a year after insertion, don't really know if that's true) or from my PCOS, which often unfortunately causes pain in the same area that's so intense I am nauseous or vomiting as well.
When I went into the ER, they did a urine test (the urine was pretty bloody so they concluded I had an infection before even testing it, but they still tested it anyways), as well as doing a CT scan and ultrasound to make sure there wasn't anything else (cancer) going on.
In that CT scan, they found a 1cm kidney stone. However, they didn't tell me about it directly. They sent me home, stated that I had a UTI, and said that the antibiotics should take care of it in 7 days (I unfortunately don't remember what antibiotic it was now, but it's a general one that helps with the most bacteria since they didn't know what I had yet). I only found out about the stone after reading my chart and seeing pictures of the CT scan, where you can clearly see it.
After 7 days of that antibiotic, I started feeling bad again 24 hours after I was finished with them. I did a telemedicine visit, but what they ended up prescribing me is known to be ineffective with the types of bacteria I had, so I didn't even really bother and ended up just going to a minute clinic. At the minute clinic they did another test, said I still had a UTI, and put me on bactrim. I'm sensitive to bactrim, and it ended up giving me an ear infection... and then it still didn't completely fix the UTI either. I went to a minute clinic the third time after trying bactrim and they gave me amoxicillin, which finally seems to have worked for the UTI.
Unfortunately, today I had to give a tour to some employees. I work outside at a large property, and by the end of it the severe pain had come back in my right side and back and while it has dulled now, almost 10 hours after, it's still there. I took a UTI at home test and it came positive for leukocytes but not nitrites, which when I looked it up, says it may be due to antibiotic use, UTI, or kidney stone. Go figure.
I've been drinking lemon juice like crazy (I've heard that it can help you pass kidney stones), but I haven't passed anything so I'm assuming my leftover pain is from that. I'm not really sure what to do from here, because if the ER didn't even mention it, I'm not sure if any urologist will take me seriously and just will brush it off. I've never had kidney stones, so I'm not even really sure what the treatment is for it (I keep reading that it's painful... ladies with IUDs, is it better or worse than getting that inserted?) The bottom line is that I can't keep living like this, I'm confused why no one mentioned or seemed concerned about the kidney stone (the minute clinic people didn't really seem to care either), and I don't have insurance so it's getting really costly to keep going to the doctors and having them brush me off. I'm at my wits end, and it's making my depression bad again. Can someone please either give me knowledge you have past googling stuff (googling isn't really getting me anywhere past surface level knowledge, and no doctor really is explaining it to me) or what to do next?
Again, sorry this post is so long. I'm just hoping that someone reads it and is able to help me.

I've been feeling really lonely lately and the fact that I'm still a virgin gets me down bad. I just wish I was a normal person. I work part time at the mall and it's so hard seeing happy couples everywhere and hear my co-workers talk about their relationships. I've been crying every night now and my mum has noticed and is really worried about me. I don't want her to worry or be a burden on her. I'm at the point where all my peers are getting engaged and married, and I haven't even gone on one date. I just want to fade away into the darkness, never to be heard from again. Sometimes I have fantasies about moving to Tibet and becoming a monk, just so I would have a valid excuse for being celibate. I get especially jealous of younger guys that have amazing sexual experiences, especially in college. It's embarrassing to be a 25 year old virgin when there are 20 years olds in happy relationships and having sex all the time. This pain, loneliness, and constant crying to myself is affecting my work, mental state, and has caused me to flunk my semester of school (again for the 3rd time). I just can't seem to get out of this pain, it seems theres only one way to escape it but I'm too much of a wuss to go through with it....

18 months of hell.
In November 2022 I got accused of a very serious crime and investivated by police. My girlfriend at the time lost her job. I had to move home because rent was getting ridiculous for the area and quality.
Christmas 2022, grandfather dies of a Stoke. At rhe same time, grandmother on other side of family nearly dies of the same thing.
Ny father can't speak at his dad's funeral, I step up, trying to support the family and keep things ordered. I do it. But I see my dad cry fir the first time in my life...
I took out a £15k loan. Which helped with credit card debt (due to my gf at the time not really working or paying for anything), then after I moved, new housemate was a fucking slob who used my good nature to treat the place like a shit tip. Leaving chocolate out for my dog to eat and everything.
Police issue is resolved, no evidence after I get a solicitor and an interview. Still to this day, I flinch when I hear sirens...
Birthday... gf St the time, while sleeping upstairs and I sleep on the sofa cause be and my friend are chatting unti lwe fall asleep ad a heavy day drinking... ex comes down.. stands over me. And hits me so hard I scream. House wakes up. Mate sees this happen. And then housemate comes down, and asks why she got in his bed... she is currently pinning me down, crying and screaming.. I tell everyone to go to bed and deal with it the next day.
Tell gf at the time that she has fucked up... She doesn't know why she did it... says she was sleep walking.. touch starved...
Had to physically remove housemate after 1) his room smelled so bad, that I had to get landlords involved and a professional carpet clean on his room and 2) he pissed on my fucking landing carpet.
Months of me paying nearly as much rent as I earn in wage, due to gf at the time barely paying me... get a housemate in who wants the place to be good to live in.. Ex decides to threaten suicide when it's just me and her, after multiple times she has grabbed and tried to hold me down knowing I am in pain from her hitting me... She locks herself in the bathroom (razors and isopropyl alcohol inside, and apparently as I find out later, our dog). I call 111, she is screaming, I'm taking on the phone to try to get control... I struggle...
Eventually she opens the door, screaming at me... 111 operator can't do anything more... I thank him and hang up.. ex gf screaming at me immediately.. im the worst person, im stupid... can't believe i believed her she might commit suicide. How stupid am I.. all of it.. I broke.. broke up with her. Hated life, hated myself. Still do.
This was November 2023.. she finally left in May 2024. Every day since I havent been able to say a word in my house. I have been belittled, broken, criticised, for the tiniest things... while I can't say a word against anyone... she left dishes to go mouldy, I cant ask her to clean after herself.... and that's the minor things..
I am alone... when she left, she took the dog.. she was ours. She slept with me every night... ans now she is gone.. to a girl who never took her for a walk unless she was the ONLY one to.. and even then.. First walk at 2:30... maybe 5pm...
I dont know anymore. I'm sick of everything.. ex even got to move out of London and keep her job.. Best I could argue was the possibility of a transfer... but I'd lose my London weighting... and fuck over my housemate...
I don't even know what I need.. I've had counselling, the Counsellor didn't turn up to half the sessions... And can't get free ones... I canr get help for domestic violence victims as its not an ongoing issue and I'm a male in my 30s. So im not priority (I get it, but im allowed to say it hurts not getting support).
I just want to be allowed to live a normal life.. I dont want this... I just want to scream.
Thank you if you read this. I'm sorry if its not the usual content.

Hello!
31F, I had my surgery 5/7. For the most part, scabs are mostly gone, ear pain is becoming less and less. However, my throat hurts just like it does when I have strep or a really bad sinus infection. I'm assuming this is because my throat skin is raw and new? I'm really trying to cut down on the amount of tylenol/ibuprofin I'm using, but its still pretty rough especially when speaking.
I'm assuming this is normal? I obviously don't believe I actually have strep, but it seems like alot of people are past this at this point. Not the same pain as the scabs coming off or the pain before that, just a new different kind. Eating is fine, yawning and waking up are still pretty rough, but otherwise just this soreness/pain all the time. Let me know if this is normal?