Why do tablets get stuck in my throat

“Don’t get off until you hit the ninth floor. No exceptions.”
“But my interview is on 5,” I replied.
“I’ll only say this only one more time. Don’t get off until you hit 9th. No other floor is safe.”
It’s crazy but something about the way he said it penetrated my skull. He was serious. And, he looked nervous, like he had to fight every instinct in his body to say that to me.
The doors closed, while I thought to myself - who the fuck says anything like that?
As I went to hit the button for the fifth floor, some anxiety came over me. I shook it off and pressed it. The guy was probably just off his rockers.
The elevator went up. I scanned my surroundings - a TV bolted to the top corner of the elevator (playing the weather channel), a mirror for the back-wall of the elevator, and some cozy lounge-style music playing. Pretty standard stuff.
“Now arriving at the 5th floor.”
Weird - not sure if I’d ever been in an elevator that announced each floor it was arriving at. I was sure that if I worked in this building, this would get pretty old quickly.
DING!
The doors opened on 5. In front of me was a reception area with a woman seated at the front desk. She stood up from her seat.
“Mr. Davis! You’re early!”
The gentleman’s warning from earlier played in my head.
“We’ll be ready for your interview in a few moments. In the meantime, please feel free to take a seat.”
“Uh, thank you,” I responded. “If I’m, uh, early, maybe I can come back in a few minutes?”
“Nonsense! We’ll see if we can speed things up. He’s been very excited to meet you.”
The elevator doors started closing. I held them open. I wasn’t sure what to do here, but everything seemed fine enough. Granted, the receptionist did seem a bit eager, but beyond that…
From my vantage point, I scanned the office space behind the front desk area. All looked normal - cubicles, folks clicking away at their computer, a kitchen area. Pretty unremarkable.
That is, except for the portrait off at the far end of the office floor. It was very large. I couldn’t tell what the picture was of, but I did see a group of employees staring at it… almost, admiring it?
“Your wife’s name is Meredith, right?”
I froze as the receptionist’s question shot a dart right through me. I didn’t remember the job application form ever asking for my wife’s name.
“You two are thinking of having children, right? If it’s a boy, you want to name him Sam?”
What. The. Fuck? Forget that she was right on the money, this was something I’d never spoken about before to anyone, including my wife.
Before I could answer, the office workers surrounding the large portrait started singing the Happy Birthday song loudly, in complete and perfect unison. Someone brought out a birthday cake and presented it to the portrait. A portrait that, after a bit of squinting, I realized was a very large version of my highschool yearbook photo.
I backed into the elevator, and pressed the “close door” button. I panicked as it took its sweet time to register.
Press. Press. Press. Come the fuck on.
After what felt like an eternity, the doors started closing. As they closed, I heard the receptionist -
“I’m so curious to know what your insides taste like, Michael.”
Fuck. Me.
Ninth floor. I needed to go to the ninth floor.
I found the 9th floor button and pressed it. It felt like it didn’t register my push, so I pressed the button again. And again. Come on, come on, come on, ninth fucking floor. I tried again and again, but nothing was happening.
Fuck it. I’ll go back to the ground floor, I thought to myself. Back to the start.
As I went to press the ‘G’ button, I realized it was missing. Just that one singular button gone. Fuck.
I was getting claustrophobic. I took in deep breaths to prevent myself from having a full blown episode.
The elevator started moving up again. A panel above the elevator doors lit up with the following number: 11.
Someone was calling the elevator?
I started talking to myself to self-soothe. “It’s okay, someone will call the 9th floor soon. That’s where I’ll get off.”
As the elevator approached its new destination, I noticed that the background lounge music in the elevator had changed. It was now an instrumental arrangement of “Happy Birthday”. Huh. Not sure why this thing thought it was my birthday.
I glanced at the weather report on the TV. At least it was going to be sunny all week! Silver linings.
“Now arriving at the 11th floor.” DING!
The doors opened, I hung around the inside corner of the elevator beside the buttons. No need to have another nightmare-ish experience, right?
An old woman stepped onto the elevator.
Great, I’m sure this will be easy to explain to her.
She smiled at me, as the doors closed.
With a lump in my throat, I asked – “What floor?”
“Ground floor please.”
“Uh, I’m sorry ma’am but that button is missing. Maybe we could wait until someone calls us to the 9th floor?”
“9th? No, I think I’ll just go to the 2nd floor instead, then.”
She went to press the button.
“Ma’am, I don’t think it’d be safe to–”
“I have plenty of friends on the 2nd floor. It’ll be okay.”
Aaaaaaand she pressed it. I didn’t feel comfortable cornering an elderly stranger in a seemingly haunted elevator. But I tried again to convince her –
“I know this sounds weird, but I have it under good authority that the 2nd floor probably isn’t safe. I’d strongly recommend not getting off until we reach 9.”
She smiled.
“Dear, it’ll be alright. You know, I like to take all opportunities that are given to me. It’s… a shame that you turned your opportunity down. I know the folks on 5 are very disappointed.”
I backed up into the corner of the elevator.
I saw the reflection of the old lady in the elevator’s back mirror. She looked ghastly. Otherworldly.
“Now arriving at the 2nd floor.”
The doors opened. She smiled at me again, and then exited.
I poked my head around the corner to look at the 2nd floor. It was damp. It looked old. More like a cave than an office. I heard a low rumble.
A man dressed in a fancy suit approached the elevator doors and held them open before they could close.
“You getting off here too, champ? I heard that 5 wanted you. I think we can give you a better offer.”
“I’m good.”
“You sure, bud? The salary is eight hundred thousand dollars every hour.”
“I’m good.”
“I’m kidding bud. The salary is we remove your eyes so you don’t have to see him.”
The floor went pitch black. The low rumble got much louder and started reverberating in my ears. Suddenly, the businessman grabbed me by the collar and tried to pull me out of the elevator.
I clung onto the ends of it. Fuck. Fuck!
I started kicking and headbutting him. I was able to make him let go of me momentarily, as I desperately pressed on the “close doors” button. Miraculously, the elevator responded much quicker this time and they closed immediately.
I tried the 9th floor button again. Didn’t work. I pressed 8 instead. Anything to get away from this hell-hole of a floor.
I heard a loud banging on the door as the elevator started taking off. Like an aggressive knock.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
As I saw the floor numbers rising -
3… 4… 5…
The banging continued. Just as loud. What the fuck?
6th floor… 7th floor…
The banging on the door didn’t subside.
“Now arriving at the 8th flo–”
I pressed the button for the 23rd floor. Just as we arrived on 8, I mashed the “close doors” button just as the elevator doors were about to open. The banging continued as the elevator doors started denting.
The elevator continued going up.
9…
10…
11…
The banging softened.
14…
15…
And softened.
19…
20…
21…
And disappeared.
“Now arriving at the 23rd floor.”
It was gone. Thank fucking god.
I exhaled. It felt like I’d narrowly avoided disaster.
The doors opened.
I scanned the new floor, and I realized… I was back on the ground floor. That’s what it looked like, anyways. Did I escape? Was I finally free?
A man stood not-too-far from the door. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t exactly place him.
“Hey man,” he spoke.
Was this the guy who got off the elevator just as I got on?
“...hey.”
“It’s over man. You got out,” he told me.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me… but I had to fight it.
“But you said the 9th floor was the only safe one, right?”
“That was a trick. You followed your gut and you were right. 23rd floor. The real safe floor. You can step out now, man.”
I didn’t leave.
“There’s someone here who really wants to see you.”
I couldn’t move.
“He wants to give you a job. He thinks you’re gonna be great.”
Why the fuck couldn’t I move?
“He’s in the other room. I’m gonna fetch him, okay? All you have to do is look at him. It’ll feel a bit weird at first, but then it’ll all be okay. It’s a permanent position. Great benefits. It is fully onsite, but, no better birthday present than a new job, right?”
I lowered my gaze to the floor. I forced myself to mutter the following words - “It’s not my fucking birthday.”
As he left to fetch… whoever he was meaning to fetch, he gave me the following response: “Relax, man. No cursing on the job. We’re a family here.”
It felt like I could only move a centimeter at a time. A true snail’s pace. I inched my finger closer and closer to the “close door” button.
I heard footsteps. He was coming back.
With every fiber of my being, I pushed through. I hit the button.
The doors closed, and I collapsed to the floor… free from whatever weird force was stopping me from moving.
“I’ll let you two talk more on the elevator,” I heard him say from outside the doors.
What?
Instinctively, I looked around.
To my surprise, there was nothing. The elevator was the same as it had always been.
A lengthy exhale. I was done with all of this. At this point, I would’ve taken death over continuing this bullshit any longer.
As I pondered my next move in this hopeless situation, I noticed something strange. The button to the 9th floor was lit up. An ominous, crimson-red color.
Before I could do anything else, my phone started ringing. I checked the call.
It was my wife.
I answered.
“Babe. Fuck, I don’t know why I didn’t even think to call you - I’m trapped in an elevator and fucked up shit is happening and maybe I should call the cops? Fuck I–”
“Hun. Don’t go to the ninth floor.”
“What? W-wait, how do you even–”
“It’s a trick, honey. You have to trust me. The man from before was lying to you. It’s not safe.”
“None of this has been safe! How do you even know everything that’s happening?!”
“You just need to trust me, hun.”
I paused.
“So what do you want me to do then?”
A demon on the other side of the phone answered this time.
“GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.”
I hung up the call and in a panic, I mashed on the 9th floor button. The elevator started rising again.
Even with me hanging up the call, the muffled sound of the demonic voice coming from my phone continued.
“GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.
GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.
GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW.”
I pulled out my phone and flung it to the ground as hard as I could. I stomped on it angrily. The warped sound of “GO TO YOUR INTERVIEW” slowly started dying out.
But suddenly, the elevator started shaking. It was continuing to go up… but it was faster than usual. Really, really fucking fast all of a sudden. Almost like the 9th floor was now way below me.
It felt like an amusement park ride with no breaks on it. Loose. Dangerous. Flinging up at an insane speed, almost as if it was falling upwards.
“But I pressed nine?!” I screamed to myself, exasperated.
It didn’t matter.
“Now arriving at the 41st floor.”
God, what the fuck?
I was brought to my knees by the speed of the elevator traveling faster and faster.
“Now arriving at the 90th floor.”
The buttons didn’t even go past 52.
“Now arriving at the 141st floor.”
Fuck.
“Now arriving at the 230th floor.”
“Now arriving at the 401st floor.”
I felt like I was inside a bullet. The pleasant voice of the elevator lady was getting deeper and deeper as we rose.
“Now arriving at the 840th floor.”
The voice started croaking. A demonic sound this time –
“Now arriving at SOMEWHERE NICE.”
A sudden halt. The elevator stopped. The doors didn’t open though. The panel above the elevator doors had no indication on what floor we were on.
As I sat, I heard what could be best described as the sounds of hell coming from outside the elevator. Low grunts of pain. Crackling. A dark hymn.
Was this where I was supposed to get off?
Before I could ponder the question further, I heard a soft tapping on the elevator. A voice from outside –
“Do you want to trade?” said the voice.
I decided to bite, for reasons I still don’t fully understand.
“What do you mean?”
“What if you stay on this floor forever, and I get to go home?”
“Uhm. I, uh, think I’m good…”
“But I really want to go home.”
It almost sounded like the voice of a kid. Fucking hell.
“I-I’m sorry, kid,” I mustered back.
“It’s okay.”
An awkward silence between us.
“He told me that he wants to wish you a Happy Birthday,” said the kid.
“I, uh… think he’s got it wrong. Today isn’t my birthday.”
“It is,” he responded. “It’s the first day of your new life. Your birthday.”
…?
“He wants you to look at the TV.”
What?
I looked at the TV in the top corner of the elevator, hoping to see the one constant I’d had during this whole cursed trip - the weather.
Instead, the TV was now showcasing what looked to be CCTV footage. Grainy footage from a camera… of the exact elevator I was in. A live feed of this exact moment.
Except, the TV showed me lying down. Looking up with a wide smile on my face.
And something above me on the ceiling. Looking straight down at me.
Him.
The lights in the elevator went off. The elevator plummeted downwards, as I closed my eyes and screamed for dear fucking life.
I waited for the impact.
For what I knew was my demise.
Here it comes.
Here it fucking comes.
I’m not ready.
I’m not ready at all.
“Now arriving at the 9th floor.”
DING!
The doors opened.
Wait, what?
9th floor?
I peeked out from the elevator.
Another reception desk.
Wait, is this really the -
I was interrupted by a voice from the outside.
“You coming out or what you fucking moron?”
I got to my feet. The feeling of distrust… anxiety, whatever you’d call it. My fear intuition. It was gone.
I felt light.
Fuck it.
I stepped onto the floor and approached the counter.
The receptionist handed me what looked like a button for the elevator.
“For the ground floor,” she said. “Single use only.”
I took it and headed towards the elevator.
Then, I turned back to face her.
“Can I maybe take the stairs?”
She shook her head.
“If you didn’t like the elevator, then you’re really not gonna like the stairs.”
Fair enough.
I got into the elevator.
I said a silent prayer to myself as I put the button where it belonged.
It fit without any issue.
I pressed it, and the elevator went down. It was a smooth ride.
“Now arriving at the ground floor.”
DING!
As I got ready to exit, I realized that the ground floor button was missing once again. Strange. I didn’t linger on it.
I marched out, ready to get the fuck out of this building.
I noticed a woman running onto the elevator. I tried to stop her, but something in my body wouldn’t let me.
The most I could muster was putting my hand on the door to relay a message to her before the doors closed.
“Don’t get off until you reach the 9th floor. No matter what.”
The woman just smiled at me.
“Happy Birthday Michael.”

TW for mention of critical illness, hospitals, parental strife
This story spans over a few years so I'm sure I'll have to edit this to clarify.
When I was 17 years old I got diagnosed with a thing in my brain* through an MRI.
^\The shorthand is "AVM" for arteriovenous malformation, a tangle of blood vessels that irregularly connects arteries and veins. In the brain, it can cause brain bleeds which affect cognitive and motor function and can also result in death. The way i explain it is that you've got the blood pressure and flood of an artery going into a deformed clump of capillaires and veins with thin walls, deforming them further. The risk of rupture increases every year. Idk if it sounds scary enough like that, but it's like a ticking time bomb.)
I got gamma radiation shortly after, which is only relevant because they use a metal frame with metal spikes they drill against your skull so you can’t move your head during radiation. I chose this method of treatment because it was supposed to be quick and painless with no general anaesthesia but it turned out that the treatment experience was completely traumatising and I’m still living with a clinical PTSD diagnosis following that.
This mode of treatment aims at calcifying the inside of the veins in a specific zone and the gradual closing of vulnerable veins can take from 6 m to 3y.
I have siblings and we’ve all always been afraid of our dad. He was always extremely authoritative and we were very well behaved because of that. He got angry very easily, and the smallest thing would send him storming off screaming and breaking things, preceded by silent treatment (which was somehow the scariest all). He’d punish us extremely strictly, and would often drive up to 40km/h over the speed limit to scare or punish us, the reasoning was something like « if we all die it’s your fault because we made me angry).
All this to say my relationship with my father has always been extremely vertical and our relationship never grew into something like equal footing and I always got extremely nervous and scared whenever I was about to meet with him.
This being said, there is no amount of words I can use to describe the depth of my love for him. He drove us around without a protest for hours and hours and hours, gave us a beautiful luxurious life and never missed any of our important dates. Birthdays and chistmases were an avalanches of gifts and we were completely spoiled. He was extremely involved and I know he loves me so much. I’ve stopped speaking to him a few years ago but it truly breaks my heart because I love him so much and I miss the smell of his aftershave and I know he misses me very much too.
When the MRI result came back, my dad was there. He was the one who walked up to me and said « everything is fine, there is just a *little* thing.
I’m sure this was hard for him because his mom died of cancer when he was 28, but he never mentioned it in relation to my illness.
Pretty quickly, my dad stopped me whenever I mentioned illness and made sure I amended any mention of the experience by adding a sweetened positive twist at the end like « I’m glad I learned so much » or « but I grew so much from the experience ».
Gradually and too seamlessly for me to really notice, he decided I was « cured » and would no longer tolerate any mention of illness. He’s get impatient, tell me off, and even genuinely angry when I did. He’d say « you’re cured now » and « idk why you keep talking about this, it’s in the past now, you need to move on and live life ». Important note here : he is not a doctor, just a regular dad in the world with zero medical knowledge.
I don’t know if it was his own version of « manifesting » healing for me or a symptom of his fear. I wonder if he misunderstood the neurologist saying it could take up to three years to see if the treatment was effective. Before the 3 year mark, with no tests and MRIS to back it, he’s managed to completely convince himself and the rest of the family that I was cured and only still talking about it for attention. He even invented a pseudo-psychological term he dubbed the « syndrome of the sick child » to belittle my fear and worry and terror and loneliness, which if I understand his concept correctly meant I was clinging to an expired diagnosis in order to be babied and gat my parents attention. IDK maybe this can give you insight into his personality, how convincing he could be.
And it was just a really lonely experience for me. All of the « why are you still talking about this you ‘re cured and you need to move on now », while still trying to cope with so much fear of dying at all times, without having anywhere to talk about it. I wonder if the lack of parental support I experienced thought such a traumatising experience as a teenager and then as a young adult was what contributed to transform the trauma into clinical PTSD (diagnosed).
Eventually, I got my 3-year mark MRI. The radiologist was my dad’s BIL and he called my dad and gave him the result directly instead of contacting me directly. I was a legal adult and ab. 22 by then. My dad then called me on the phone, I remember the conversation so clearly, he said I was cured and I proceeded to call my mom and grandparents and best friend to share the news.
yay now you can move on. When he got home he popped a bottle of champagne open in celebration.
This was so tough because something didn’t quite sit right with me. Because of growing up hypervigilent I’m usually good at telling when someone is lying and twisitng the truth.
He seemed off on the phone, and in person, and I couldn’t tell if it wasn’t just that I couldn’t imagine life ebbing cured.
A few days later the BIL called me and said there was a lil persisting on the MRI. I wonder if I’d been brainwashed by my dad already by the time BIL called because when I asked dad if there was anything he didn’t tell me, he said « well you can’t expect to be 100% cured with things like this », and « 99% cured is the same as 100% » and other things of the sort. It was like he’d twisted the results in favour of his opinion.
By that time, I was stuck and really confused, and everyone was already convinced I was cured. And it got really hard for me to know what to do and where to turn because I was till so young and the hospital system was so confusing.
It took two years for me to decide to get a second opinion. Someone else looked at the MRI and said there was still something left, but since I’d heard my dad assure me it meant I was cured, it took considerable effort for me to reach out to my service in the hospital again for an appointment with the specialist I’d seen back when I was 17. This alone was extremely challenging because no one took be seriously, and I had to call the secretary office on a daily basis for a couple weeks to ask what I should do to get a confirmation I was cured. I’m quite headstrong and I wanted to hear from the specialist directly that I was cured do as to have no doubts at all. Throughout this, dad tried to discourage me and then eventually accepted it might be the only way for me to move on.
The MRI happened and I sat in the neurosurgeons office at the hospital of my nightmares asking if my results were conducive with full recovery. He confirmed there was something left, and then that the aim of treatment is to be completely cured. That the malformation should not be visible on an MRI once it was cured. He added that the risk of rupture increased each year. I soon had another more intrusive san done and it confirmed there was a little left, which meant I needed to get another round of Gamma radiation.
This hit me like a ton of bricks.
The second round of treatment was just as traumatising as I’d remembered the first round to be.
I don’t know what to do with how angry I am with my dad. He lied to me and invited all of us to live in a fiction of his making, thus endangering me. Every insistence I’d been cured and needed to move on when I wasn’t, and in fact the risk of me having an aneyrism was growing with every day.
The worst is that he never apologised. He instantly switched up his story and started pretending he’d never said I was cured. He created a whole new fiction where « he’d always insisted I’d get a more thorough MRI checkup ». It’s so unfair. How he can’t embrace a world where he’s wronged me, and not because it destroyed me but because he can’t be wrong. He has to be perfect. How unfair.
I most likely wouldn’t have mede it past the age of fifty if I’d believed of indeed obeyed him.
I used to check my memories again to make sure I hadn’t made it up, and eventually I accepted I’d never get an apology. And that I was wronged and I didn’t deserve that. And that I should’ve gotten the support I needed.
I’m cured now, I sat in another doctors office a year ago and he said my MRI came back normal and the AVM was no longer on the scan. I’m really proud I was so headstrong.
And eventually I decided to take distance from my dad, and life improved when I stopped talking to him. I know it hurts him, and that he’s extremely angry. He expresses this to my siblings, and I know they get punished in my stead and I feel so guilty. But I can’t be around my dad, I’m too angry. I’m trying to live with the love I have for him in my heart, with my childhood memories and the guilt and missing him and then more guilt for being happier now that I don’t have to talk to him and listen to his tirades. And I worry for my siblings who still talk to him, because he doesn’t treat them kindly and they deserve so much love and admiration and support, which he’d never give them.
I used to want to press charges and I wonder if he shouldn’t be in prison for what he did but he’s a vicious man and he’s go to much money and friends in high places that I couldn’t take him on. And things would get ugly, I know. I just wish he could pay for what he did.
I’ll update later for typos and clarifications :)

Over the course of the last few seasons, I've noticed that is has become generally harder and harder. People are getting better, the more casual players are dropping the game etc, but why does ranked specifically, seem so damn difficult?
For myself, it usually doesn't take me long to get through Plat, but my god the lobbies are difficult. I've been stuck in plat lobbies for several days now. The amount of players in Plat that arguably belong in a much lower rank, vs the players I'm coming up against seems very out of sync. I did even watch a video that said usually within the first 4 days, there are at least 200 people in top 200 Preds, but according to the video, barely 30 people made it to pred within the first week of the season.
So, is the game harder this season for you, if so, why do you think that is?

Twice this week I drank wayyyy too much alcohol. 5 days ago it was a hard soda then a four loko, horrible 2 day hangover and that night was awful... Last night I had a roughly estimated 10 total shots of whiskey and rum, then two additional shots just to try out whiskey i have not tried before. I felt fine after the first 5 ish shots (waited 10 mins after last sip, not even tipsy), then had 5 shots of rum and the remaining two new-to-me whiskey shots. I felt okay, just tipsy 30 mins after the last sip. Within an hour I became horrifically drunk as all the alcohol finally built up...
I had a complete inability to think, focus, look straight, sit, walk, or crawl, and blinking gave me an instant headspin. I was so tired, no energy, not tired enough to pass out but I apparently had slight trouble breathing at some point. While crawling was an impossible task, I dragged myself over to my bed and rolled onto it. Using purely muscle memory I fired up my Xbox and opened YouTube. Focusing was obviously not something I was able to do, I selected whatever videos I wanted to see and just listened with my eyes mostly stuck to the ceiling. Having the audio playing was nice, since a complete lack of controllable stimulation would bore me out of my mind which is worsened when I am drunk. Due to headspins, which is when your vision and balance is swirling around (can be worsened with eyes shut), I could not sleep for 4 hours especially from how sick my body felt. I didn't have the best quality sleep but I slept for 9 and a half hours. The hangover was not as excruciating as what the Four Loko did to me, but I had digestive problems and a lack of appetite for most of the day.
IT IS NOT WORTH GETTING ANYWHERE NEAR BLACKOUT DRUNK! I cannot understand how people even want to be that drunk, I have no fun in not being able to do anything. I like being relaxed or moderately tipsy at most. Hangovers will ruin the next day(s) and potentially make you mentally unable to have alcohol for some time because that sickness is in the back of your mind, subconsciously keeping you away from your favorite whiskey.
In fact, I am at the late stage of my hangover where I am mostly recovered. I took a small sip of my whiskey and the alcohol going down my throat did not feel right, my brain is literally preventing me from drinking any more and I am not intoxicated. I'm going to have to temporarily switch to having lower alcohol drinks like beer and cider until my brain allows me to sip the whiskey.
If you are new to alcohol or are going to try alcohol for the first time, don't immediately try getting extremely drunk as it will ruin the experience. Find tasty drinks that won't fuck you up on their own (of course quantity matters a lot). Ciders, light beers, etc. are a good start. If something tastes bad to you, that's fine as the world of alcohol is seemingly endless. So far I have a handful of drinks I know I like from most categories. Have fun, don't get fucked up, and be responsible.
For those starting out, I like these and I believe they are drinks that most people agree are alright:
Light beers (lagers, one might be ale): Blue Moon (I haven't tried the "Light" version, just the regular), Heineken, Coors Light (bottled or on tap).
Ciders: Salt Creek Ciderhouse "Freedom", Portland Cider Original Gold, Helvetia Cider Oregon Blueberry.
The ciders are local brands, so if you're in Oregon see if your stores have these and give them a try.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk. Stay safe.

Ok some context here.
I'm a dad to an 8yo boy. His mum and I never married and never really lived together for any meaningful amount of time (due to my work location at that time).
She terminated our first baby, even after making a grand announcement to her family that she was pregnant. Despite this, I stuck around and she got pregnant again a few months later. During that pregnancy, I just couldn't get close to her. I was gripped by fear that she would announce out of the blue, again, that she wasn't proceeding. I was ridiculed by her and her family, she even told me not to worry because legally in her country she wasn't allowed another termination so soon after the last one.
I ended our relationship at the end of 2018 (nobody else involved, I could just tell I wasn't appreciated, respected or wanted. I was 'convenient' to keep around from a financial perspective) when our Son was just over 3 and, despite my efforts to engage through mediation, she insisted we go through court as she wanted sole custody and a fat monthly pay-day and I wanted to be with my Son equally and, therefore, joint custody.
To add a little more context
We are from different countries (hers a non-english speaking one) yet I gave up my lucrative career and relocated here, integrated myself (studied the language, taught some English as a volunteer etc.) and went through the local family court system.
Eventually, the Judge ordered joint custody, which she immediately appealed against and, only at the day of the appeal when she was told she may lose the financial package I had been ordered to pay, did she withdraw her appeal.
Ever since then, almost 4 years, she has done nothing but try to make life intolerable. So many things I can't even begin to go into detail but, as an example, just yesterday I went to collect my Son at 3pm. He had a football match planned at 4.30pm and he was visibly upset because he wanted his mum to take him there. I took him for a walk and explained the way things are and he calmed down a bit. Then his mum appeared (she was basically hiding around the corner and eavesdropping on our 'man chat') and he got upset again. She went into this tirade about how I was frightening him and things like "look at our poor little boy, so afraid of you" blah blah blah. Then her Father joined in (they live in a multi-generation home as is common here) and the culmination of this was him spitting at me, in front of my Son (his Grandson) before he scuttled off back to his house.
Anyway, the questions I have are why do you women make this already difficult and complex situation worse? Have you got nothing better to do with your lives than scheme about how to f*&k over your ex? Are you really so bitter about not being wanted by a guy, for whatever reason, that the only focus you have is manipulating your kids and doing everything possible to turn them against their Father?
I know it's not always the case, and there are some real diamonds (all thanks to you, you are appreciated) who go out of their way to foster a collaborative and loving environment for the kids.
EDIT: Typos.

Hi, just a quick query really. I hope this is the right place for this..
I (42m UK) have been advised to get on Vitamin D supplements by my doctor.. I purchased a bottle of 62.5μg Vitamin D tablets and been taking them for a month.. I've gone to get some more and all I could get this time was 25μg tablets. Is there any issue with taking 2 of the 25μg tablets to get nearer to the 62.5μg dose I've been taking?
On both bottles, it says only take 1, both pharmacy and doctor says "if that what it says on the label we can't suggest otherwise" But what is the problem in doing so? why do they sell them in such different doses if taking 2x 25μg would be "too much" yet 1x 62.5μg is fine?
I got 180 tablets to use up and don't want to have to buy more unnecessarily. Thanks in advance for any help,

My dad kind of revealed a family secret. His health is deteriorating before my eyes and I'm seeing his once strong and wide physique shrink and him becoming frail.... It hurts to see
He sat down in his chair and said he thought he was having a stroke.
He kept talking to himself. Talking about death. About how he wasnt afraid to die and he was practically dueling death before my eyes. He said "You don't scare me you son of a bitch" to open air in front of us and we were none the wiser about what was happening.
He then said something I never thought he would say. He said that he felt euphoric. He started talking about altered states and how sometimes when he was doing his work as a doctor he would go into these states. That he felt things.
He tried to tell my mom. She didn't understand. She was completely speechless. It was like she was too afraid to talk. All this was terrifying to her. But I was right there with him the entire time. He asked my brother if he had any intellectual interests and my brother replied that he liked video games. My dad cursed under his breath, disappointed.
The my mom said "Ask her." My father never really looks at me. We never talk. And he turned to look at me. I told him that I understood.
Relief washed over his face. We talked about individuation, Jung vs Freud, we talked about quantum physics and the physical world versus the spirit world. It felt like he'd heard me for the first time in my entire life and I heard him.
Politically we're very different. He's a Southern conservative man raised Baptist turned Catholic and his dedication to Jesus and Politics take a turn to the fanatical at times and it's caused a lot of arguments with him and my mom. Bad ones. Almost physical.
He was an alcoholic when I was small and that left me deeply traumatized. I thought he would kill us. I thought he would kill everyone. His hulking physique and alcohol were a lethal pairing. He even admitted to hiring someone to kill his ex girlfriend when he was drunk but thank God it fell through.
So there's a lot between us. I feel like we had no understanding of each other whatsoever. We lived in different planets, different universes even. Parallel but never truly touching. Never once seeing.
This was probably the first proper conversation I've had with him in years. We go weeks without saying a word or even looking up when we enter the room. Nothing.
But knowing that I saw him calmed him down from his delirium. He relaxed visibly and was no longer fighting death. He settled down and ate ice cream. But he'd told me something that had shook me to my very core.
He said that this ran in the family. His grandmother said she saw heaven. Ironically about a week ago I was crying bittersweet tears because I saw heaven too. Or something like it. I saw the afterlife. It was beautiful and terrifying. I woke up in tears.
I'd never been happier and I'd never been sadder. A major truth was revealed to me. That on this earth plane we can't experience the love we're capable of.
The love I felt transcended everything I felt. Everything I thought love was is just a speck compared to the light I felt.
I knew I would never feel this again. I would never feel this happy again. I will never feel this love again. And maybe if we remembered we could feel it....
So that hit me hard. My entire life I thought I was the freak in the family. That I was alone. That no one could possibly feel what I felt, especially within my own family. They'd never understand me.
So that door was blown wide open for me. It was living under my nose the entire time. The entire time there were two mystics under one house and we were too afraid to see it in one another.
Too stubborn. Too stuck in old stories. I'm also incredibly sensitive. I feel like my dad is too in some ways. I've never seen him cry. He didn't even cry when his mother died. He says he'll never cry for anyone. And he blows up in anger so easily. So of course he's sensitive like I am. Just in a different way.
I'm also on the autism spectrum so that adds another layer of alienation and I just know that my dad is autistic too.
That day I shoved it all beneath me. My mother was terrified. She was looking to me for answers.
"Is he crazy?" she asked.
"No. " I answered honestly.
He wasn't crazy. Because if he was crazy then I was crazy. But I know what I feel is REAL. She kind of brushed it off and called him a schizophrenic. It hurt.
But I pushed it down anyway. The next day I woke up terrified. I didn't know why. I just felt so anxious. I tried breathing exercises, everything but the sense of dread was still there.
I'd seen my father around all my life, miserable, angry and getting sick. If that's what hiding your radiance and gifts does to you then I don't want it.
I don't want to die when I barely turned 60. I don't want to grey and limp and fall in the bathroom, busting my head open then do nothing about it. It was like he was letting himself die. He wanted to. He said he wanted to.
I saw a part of me in that. The part that was scared. That felt judged. That hid. That felt like such a weirdo. Watching my dad made me realize that it would slowly kill me like a slow acting venom.
I was seeing it before my eyes. He didn't have anyone to understand him all these years. And probably in his home life too....And look at what it'd done.
He was a big angry man hiding gifts and altered states and possibly even God inside of him. And so was I.
We were both hiding.
I couldn't live like that.
I went to the bathroom and cried by myself for awhile and no one knew.
I didn't know what to do with this information and I still don't... But it's there. The story is there. And it's a bittersweet story.
I don't know what I'm going to do with these gifts.
I hope I can make us proud.
One day.

I fell into the clutches of the government about 10 months ago when I lost my job as a florist, and my job provider signed me up for a traineeship in aged care because they are desperate for workers right now - I wasn't able to say no without losing my payments because it's paid work. I'm currently doing a traineeship as a personal carer and I absolutely hate it. Not only do I do 3 overnight shifts in an aged care centre a week, I'm also looking after 32 residents by myself as a new trainee and most have dementia and behavioural problems. The RNs are either sleeping on their shift on a different floor or are nowhere to be found - and ringing them on their phone gets me nowhere. The people I take over from at 10pm never do their work and I end up having to finish their pad changes while they have been sitting on their phones waiting to go home for the last half hour. My float, who does breaks and is meant to help out on different floors when it gets busy, gets argumentative towards me after I call every floor to find them, because they don't want to carry an internal phone with them all night long and then tells me that other staff need them more. Then I find out they hang out on the least busy ward.
When working, I also have various residents who, after going to the toilet, want me to "dig in" as deep as possible when wiping them and get abusive if I don't (I don't! At $20/hr overnight I don't get paid enough to do that - and it's gross!!) and start crying because they didn't get their way. Others lunge themselves out of bed and have falls and it's my fault because I was on that floor, I've had residents punch me because they didn't want their pad changed, verbally abuse me for no apparant reason. That's the dementia, i understand that, but it still hurts. we've got one sleaze that comes out every hour on the hour to check the time and makes a pass at me. He hasn't showered in over a week because he gets aggressive and every time I see him in the middle of the night his teeth are bleeding - quite honestly, I get quite scared up there by myself on occasions. I've tried telling management, but HR doesn't want to listen, because they've got their person to work up there and that's that.
I've also tried to take 3 days off after 10 straight months of working 3 overnight shifts a week, gave them 6 weeks notice and got told they have to work it all out first and they'll give me a call back - it will probably get denied. I tried to take a day off once before with 2 weeks notice because a friend came to visit from overseas that I hadn't seen in close to 20 years, got approved, and on the day they called me and asked me why I'm not at work. They are absolutely useless.
I feel like I'm stuck in a nightmare and nobody on the outside wants to believe me. This company prides itself for being a 5 star facility and I'm about to join a union because of them. I also don't trust the trusted person we got a contact for as she works in HR as well. They exist to look after the company, not the staff.
This is why I'm looking for different work now, and am quite keen to go into veterinary nursing. I feel like it would be a lot more wholesome than what I'm doing at the moment, i would have transferable skills and would also be able to find full time work (CNAs in my country only ever work part time or casual - full time is only for management).
Would anyone have any insight into this?

This is my first time posting on reddit after lurking around a bunch of communities. I felt the need to ask or talk about this with more people. I (25M) am trying to get over friends (25M and 26M) who are going no-contact because of various reasons. I know wanting control over the issue is impossible but i can't help but want to try and fix this.
Context: I recently was/am going through a lot of issues in real life, from possible skin cancer to job hunting problems and a multitude of others. And i am ashamed to admit i have done so many things wrong that have pushed away 2 friends whom i regard as a few of my closer ones or at least gaming buddies. Its been more than a month since we spoke. And i am in turmoil over it.
I was extremely depressed/anxiety filled while dealing with simultaneous changed for the worse with my job, health and studies. A co-worker was leaving the company, and they were in-charge of a lot of duties that will (now) require me to fill in for the moment they leave. They were also a good friend of mine during my 2 years at the work place.
I was also preparing for a part-time undergraduate programme's admission and the tension/anxiety from just thinking about going into university after 4 years of not studying was not light. I wasn't even sure if my spot would be confirmed/allocated since my application may get rejected, the impending costs if successful either didn't help with my mental worry about finances since my job is not paying well.
Amidst all these i had to worry about a growth on my shin that was possibly skin cancer related since it was out of the blue and not an irritation or a mole. Its most probably a cyst due to recent events hinting the symptoms, but only a biopsy will confirm this. The reason why this was also traumatising was because my father recently had a toe amputated due to skin cancer, and my maternal grandfather passed on due to brain cancer. So medical history wise it was weighing on me.
There were also other issues which heavily contributed to my deterioration but these were the main ones i focused on.
So i was stuck between depressed, anxiety-filled and a lot of irritation with life and its started to affect my friendship with my friends. While we interacted i was stuttering, choking on my words and just couldn't bring the capacity to just outright speak about my concerns/worries. I began to trauma dump, outburst at the smallest of things and begged for attention to distract myself. I annoyed one of them by the consistent pestering for attention and pissed of the other as they were caught in the cross fire of myself and the friend i annoyed.
It got to a point where they actively avoided me, they tried to help. But it ended up with a summary of "We can't help you if you can't help yourself". They were right, but i just couldn't do it at the time. I also frantically looked for ways to try and communicate but all of it ended horribly. I gave them so much stress and they all had their own worries in their lives. They didn't need more baggage on their hands.
I eventually went to seek a therapist and spoke to a mutual friend. But this mutual friend (27F) disagreed with how i was dealing with my feelings and/or how i was approaching it. They told me i needed time, my friends needed time. I confided in her, and she assured me i should focus on solving my problems first. And everything else will be fine. So i started to try and isolate myself to fix my problems. I unfriended my friends on social media to attempt to distance myself. However the longing for interaction came back. I tried to talk to them again and it was met with anger, which i know was my fault. I am unstable, and its not pleasant for anyone.
With the fear of my mortality due to possible cancer and the fear of not having said time i told them i really didn't need time. I was going to recover no matter what it took, I was extremely emotionally attached to my friends. She has since went no contact with me after she checked on me once with the interaction having gone sour due to this.
I realised i had a myriad of issues, from abandonment to communication and i was extremely broken. I really want to be with them and function, but I'm lost. I want closure and its not happening anytime soon but everytime i try to focus on fixing myself I'm just reminded i haven't patched things up with them.
I've been trying Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and a gratitude journal to try and curb my overthinking and FOMO/emotional attachment to my friends. While its helped me to gain some control over my thoughts, I still feel empty. I am unmotivated to continue my hobbies, and I can't being myself to step away from social media since i have other friends that exclusively communicate on there. I need advice on how to move on, but i can't bring myself to forget about these friends since...they were the most genuine people I've met in years. And they've also cared for me more than some, i'm torn.
** I have since seen a doctor and have a surgery lined up for the biopsy and i have received my offer of admission to university.

I'm 25, I am not sure what I'm doing or where I'm going, recently moved to another country after saving at two jobs for a year. I think my life is better than most but I just get caught up comparing and I feel ashamed I'm not more successful or reaching my potential as a man by putting more effort. I know I can achieve something because I've shown I can work hard and consistently and have tasted some success but don't always stay consistent.
I've been told by close friends that I'm driven and have potential they just don't know why I'm at where I am. And my life is good, I have friends, enough $ to stay afloat, basic needs, some hobbies, can do whatever I want right now. I've found I don't have a lot to talk about because I haven't achieved much and it bothers me. I lived life pretty passive, most interesting thing was being on a mma team for years, and moving frequently, but after school I was focused for a bit then drank and smoked for years, not really saving or making progress in anything until recently, having been able to save $ and live in another country and learn a new language/culture.
I feel like I need to find something that I like to do, get responsibility and make money doing something I like and can use in the future, a little bit harder in my situation where im not 100% fluent yet. I just go through periods of working hard and lose my focus like now and I just want something that will keep me focused that I can work on. Some things I feel that aren't helping me are drug/weed use, pron habit, internet habit, which is why I need something to work towards.
I've had issues with shame in the past, my father would call me a loser frequently when I lived at home, but I was actually driven more at that time then now. I just feel ashamed and stuck right now and I'm tired of feeling this way but I want to achieve my potential as a man.

20f I started therapy. I started going to the gym. Started a reward system for myself to get myself to do self care and cleaning. I was on the way to a healthy relationship with my family again. I got my own apartment. I got my own car with no strings attached.
I did everything I was supposed to.
So why do I feel the same? Why am I getting worse?! Why am I getting worse... I don't understand.
What am I supposed to do when I spend 12+ hours a day in bed, only getting up to go to work.
I feel disgusted with myself. I get to watch all my friends around me start healing as they all move on with their lives. And I'm stuck And I'm getting worse.

I'm sorry if this is long. To keep you somewhat in the loop I'm 27F, my mother is 53F, sperm donor is 60M, little sister is 25F.
My parents divorced when I was 2 and my little sister was an infant. In the split, our sperm donor took me and left my little sister with my mother. At first there was some kind of visitation happening due to help from social services, however with my sperm donor being a classic narcissist he managed to hide me from them, or evade visitation days claiming we were away somewhere.
My mother at the time was new to the country I grew up in (Nordics), so she didn't speak the language much nor did she know which cultures were normal or how the social service system worked. My mother moved to my home country, married my sperm donor the same year and I was born a year later. He kept her locked up at home, and if she wanted to see friends or go out he would drop her off, give her an hour or so, and pick her up again, complete control. She had no chance of learning more about anything even if she wanted to.
He raised me telling me my mother is an abusive, evil witch who would kidnap me back to her home country if I went to her house. Being a child, of course I believed this, and when she showed up at my school with my siblings so we could see each other I started scream crying. This was when I was 6 or 7. I went home and told him about this, and his response was to 'not believe in her crocodile tears'. She was heartbroken, but I was taught it was fake. If social services showed up with her at our house for visitation, I was told to pull my curtains and hide, not go near windows or make any noise. I didn't know who they were at the time, so I did what he told me to do.
Growing up I also spent a lot of time at my grandparents house since sperm donor had more important things to do (like meet strange women off the internet, engage in shady politics or harass foreign women (he's racist btw). This should've been a safe haven, but he didn't leave me there without giving them a long list of rules regarding how I was to be treated, what I was allowed to eat and what chores I was to do that day. My grandparents, despite being the sweetest people on earth, are extreme enablers and did not dare go against his word, probably in fear of me being taken away from them too.
With sperm donor being a textbook narcissist these things were normal to me. During my childhood I was extremely isolated from other people and their families, I was interrogated if I wanted to see any friends (not that I had many, I was the weirdo kid and got bullied throughout school), and I was forced into multiple different sports. If I got bored of one I had to pick a new one, I was always in at least 2 but sometimes juggled 3 different ones at the same time. I was a kid, maybe 9-10?
He was a hoarder, there were paths through the house you had to walk through cause there was so much stuff everywhere. He'd never throw anything away, and if he did, it was my toys and belongings. He occasionally cleaned up the house for guests, maybe once every few years. When the house became messy again due to his hoarding he blamed me for it and said it was because I left my toys/drawings/pencils out after using them.
There's a lot more to the story of my upbringing but these are the key points. I was emotionally and physically abused and because of that I have been NC with sperm donor for about 7 years now.
I left him when I was 13, lived at my grandparents house for a year (he thought it was because he told me to, cause he got "death threats"), got in touch with my mother (I did not know her at all at this time due to him cutting her out of my life) and at 14 I moved in with my her and little sister. I'd never had a mother figure and so I didn't know what to expect, but what I got was a essentially a friend instead of a mother. I didn't get many rules set for me at her house and so I tried to be a responsible kid and be home on time etc, I didn't want my freedom taken away again. She would hang out with me and my friends if they were over and sometimes she'd let us have a sneaky drink/smoke here and there (towards like 15/16), so to my friends she was the coolest mum. She didn't act like an adult, she unloaded her emotional problems on me, I was the mediator between her and my little sister when they fought and I made sure they communicated and resolved it. I'd listen and hold her when she cried, and give advice as best I could since I was a teenager. She couldn't hold down a job because of her emotional issues, so she relied heavily on benefits and whichever guy she was dating at the time. It wasn't a healthy environment, and all this was projected onto me and my sister.
My mother now lives in South America again and we haven't seen her since 2019, she's not made any arrangements to come back to Europe and visit. She still hasn't learned how to reflect on her behaviour and any attempts to talk to her about her unhealthy habits and behaviours are met with either tears or hostility as she sees it purely as criticism. She won't listen despite several attempts from me and my little sister, because of this we are both LC with her.
I left my home country at 19, I'm an adult now, and I can see so clearly why I'm so messed up, but I just can't let go. I've been in and out of talking therapy, psychiatrists, CBT and grief counselling since I was 17. I know the techniques, I have the tools, and I have been practicing them to get better, but I just don't. I've tried medication too and they work until they stop working, it's pointless. If anything, the more time passes the more sad and resentful I become.
All I want is acknowledgement from either of them, for them to say they were wrong, an apology and some self work, anything. But I am left without a real mother and father. I have great support, my auntie is the closest thing I have to a mother and she's really stepped up in that role, even though she doesn't have to. My boyfriend is amazing and looks after my every need. But I'm so stuck on the past, I can't get over it. I have so many mental issues because of them and I really struggle getting through this life. I know there are people who have had it way worse but it just feels so unfair.
I'm not really sure what I want to get across by posting this. No one has ever acknowledged that sperm donor is a narcissist who took my only childhood away.
Thank you for reading.

The series revival was nearly perfect. Don’t get me wrong—I love X-Men 97. But Episode 10 fell short, in my opinion, for these reasons:
• It left a lot of unanswered questions. How did Magneto survive Genosha? Why did Bastion keep Magneto alive at all (and why did he tell him he had work to do on him, when he was shaving him)? • Some things pulled me out of the enjoyment of watching this wonderful show. Like, how were Jubilee and Sunspot able to breathe in and survive space? Even if they were in the upper atmosphere, the air would’ve been too thin. • Some plot outcomes were anti-climactic. I personally felt like the showrunners should’ve stuck to the comics and had Charles wipe Magneto’s mind. It would’ve been epically tragic and made narrative sense for these two old friends, especially after Magneto ripped the adamantium off Wolverine’s skeleton. Then, we could’ve had Onslaught, which could’ve functioned as Bastion’s backup plan for Magneto in case he failed. • The Phoenix was a cool reveal, but it felt like fan service and deus ex machina. Also, the Phoenix Force just departed, before it dealt with Bastion?
Again—I love this show. I just wish the showrunners had made a few different decisions with Episode 10.

I had a profoundly vivid and somewhat recurring dream with two main settings: an upper music room and a lower room resembling a vampire lair. The upper room was like an orchestra or band room, filled with creativity and life, primarily occupied by a famous female orchestra member. The lower room, described as an old-fashioned house with a sinister vibe due to a death that occurred there, was where her less helpful husband spent most of his time.
A central element of the dream was a ladder connecting these two contrasting spaces, symbolizing the challenging transition between them. In the dream, my mother and I were tasked with creating music. Although she supported me, she struggled to move between these two rooms, often getting stuck on the ladder.
The dream introduced a complex dynamic with the wife, who tried to distract me into making music for her. She insisted on playing old songs I disliked, particularly disliking the drums played by her husband. Despite expressing my dislike, they repeatedly played the music, which aggravated the husband and added tension to the scenario.
A bizarre and surreal element emerged as an after-party (after we made the first song) involving a famous figure resembling Anne Frank or Barbie, where an intensely unpleasant odor prevailed.
Emotionally, the dream was quite straining as it depicted the wife attempting to pull me away from my mother while the husband tried to keep my mom in the darker, lower room where she was being hurt. This scenario was in stark contrast to my real-life relationship with my dad, who is very kind and not a threat at all.
what the absolute he** please, your thoughts are needed! WHY DO I KEEP COMING BACK TO THIS PLACE I am not intoxicated nor am using drugs (atm)

I have officially had enough. Long story short, as soon as I turned 18, my dad wanted to stop paying for apartments so he wanted to get a house for my sister, mother, and I close to his (to keep tabs on us; he has an abusive/angry/paranoid personality). While I am grateful he has sheltered us (please do not think I don’t acknowledge my privilege to even have a place to sleep), it has come at such a cost. Anyways, because he wanted a break on his taxes, he said he wanted me to use my name for the house, and that he wanted to put me in a lien so my mother couldn’t try and sell it. At the time, I had NO IDEA what I was doing, I literally just graduated high school. Our relationship was tolerable at the time and he made me think it was the best option, so I signed. Now, I’m 21, and I see the mistake I’ve made. He’s still the same man he was, still angry. A tornado ripped through our city and because things weren’t done his way immediately, he told us he’d let the house collapse on us. Everyone started yelling in my ear, I’m always the middle man. I finally broke out into tears and stormed away. I feel like I really can’t handle this crap anymore. I want to move states, or just away in general, while still having a place for my sister and mom to stay. I hate the idea that if I mess up, everything can be taken away. Not even the car I drive is actually mine. I feel responsible for everyone’s lives and I also feel stuck. Anytime I try to get a job, my dad tries to punish me. I feel trapped. So. Trapped. I want to be free and know my family is safe. I can’t take the toxicity anymore. People wonder why I’m chronically suicidal. I literally feel like I cannot escape my situation. Is there any way to get out of a lien? I can’t pay the full amount… it’s like 700k+ and I’m just a 21 year forced to stay jobless. I’m at a loss, truly. Today I read that if I did try and “move away” my bank accounts would be frozen. I almost had a panic attack. I’m forever indebted to my abusive father.

Okay, if you’ve seen my username before it’s been the same dude. My boyfriend of almost 4 years? I really should be banned from this forum by now for my actions. I get advice but really never use it because I keep living in this fantasy world where he chooses me.
I saw more texts. His ex fuck buddy who he now works with. Who I caught him talking in his car with Wednesday.
They’re texting, he keeps asking if she really forgives him. He asks if it was just sexual she ofc says no. He says he loves how she looks, how she dresses and the way she wears her hair. Today he told me, you’re not ugly.
What the fuck.
He told her he misses taking her to the lakefront when I have been begging him to take me to the lake and ride the swans.
If he wants to be with her so bad why doesn’t he just go?
He’s been getting so angry with me lately. He’s so rude and cruel. Even after I caught him.
He said if I can’t get over it, he’s going to break up with me.
He told her, what would be different if we got back together?
I don’t know what to do again. I just am so stuck on them getting back together, he does not deserve that shit.
He does not deserve to be happy after what he did to me and what he changed me into.
I don’t know how to go on. This is getting so hard and I just don’t know why he can’t just tell me what’s on his chest. I’ve done everything for him, I’ve given so much for him, including friends, money and time.
I can’t let this happen but I don’t know how to stop it.

ETA: I'm sorry this is such a long post.
I'm 27F, my mother is 53F, sperm donor is 60M, little sister is 25F.
My parents divorced when I was 2 and my little sister was an infant. In the split, our sperm donor took me and left my little sister with my mother. At first there was some kind of visitation happening due to help from social services, however with my sperm donor being a classic narcissist he managed to hide me from them, or evade visitation days claiming we were away somewhere.
My mother at the time was new to the country I grew up in (Nordics), so she didn't speak the language much nor did she know which cultures were normal or how the social service system worked. My mother moved to my home country, married my sperm donor the same year and I was born a year later. He kept her locked up at home, and if she wanted to see friends or go out he would drop her off, give her an hour or so, and pick her up again, complete control. She had no chance of learning more about anything even if she wanted to.
He raised me telling me my mother is an abusive, evil witch who would kidnap me back to her home country if I went to her house. Being a child, of course I believed this, and when she showed up at my school with my siblings so we could see each other I started scream crying. This was when I was 6 or 7. I went home and told him about this, and his response was to 'not believe in her crocodile tears'. She was heartbroken, but I was taught it was fake. If social services showed up with her at our house for visitation, I was told to pull my curtains and hide, not go near windows or make any noise. I didn't know who they were at the time, so I did what he told me to do.
Growing up I also spent a lot of time at my grandparents house since sperm donor had more important things to do (like meet strange women off the internet, engage in shady politics or harass foreign women (he's racist btw). This should've been a safe haven, but he didn't leave me there without giving them a long list of rules regarding how I was to be treated, what I was allowed to eat and what chores I was to do that day. My grandparents, despite being the sweetest people on earth, are extreme enablers and did not dare go against his word, probably in fear of me being taken away from them too.
With sperm donor being a textbook narcissist these things were normal to me. During my childhood I was extremely isolated from other people and their families, I was interrogated if I wanted to see any friends (not that I had many, I was the weirdo kid and got bullied throughout school), and I was forced into multiple different sports. If I got bored of one I had to pick a new one, I was always in at least 2 but sometimes juggled 3 different ones at the same time. I was a kid, maybe 9-10?
He was a hoarder, there were paths through the house you had to walk through cause there was so much stuff everywhere. He'd never throw anything away, and if he did, it was my toys and belongings. He occasionally cleaned up the house for guests, maybe once every few years. When the house became messy again due to his hoarding he blamed me for it and said it was because I left my toys/drawings/pencils out after using them.
There's a lot more to the story of my upbringing but these are the key points. I was emotionally and physically abused and because of that I have been NC with sperm donor for about 7 years now.
I left him when I was 13, lived at my grandparents house for a year (he thought it was because he told me to, cause he got "death threats"), got in touch with my mother (I did not know her at all at this time due to him cutting her out of my life) and at 14 I moved in with my her and little sister. I'd never had a mother figure and so I didn't know what to expect, but what I got was a essentially a friend instead of a mother. I didn't get many rules set for me at her house and so I tried to be a responsible kid and be home on time etc, I didn't want my freedom taken away again. She would hang out with me and my friends if they were over and sometimes she'd let us have a sneaky drink/smoke here and there (towards like 15/16), so to my friends she was the coolest mum. She didn't act like an adult, she unloaded her emotional problems on me, I was the mediator between her and my little sister when they fought and I made sure they communicated and resolved it. I'd listen and hold her when she cried, and give advice as best I could since I was a teenager. She couldn't hold down a job because of her emotional issues, so she relied heavily on benefits and whichever guy she was dating at the time. It wasn't a healthy environment, and all this was projected onto me and my sister.
My mother now lives in South America again and we haven't seen her since 2019, she's not made any arrangements to come back to Europe and visit. She still hasn't learned how to reflect on her behaviour and any attempts to talk to her about her unhealthy habits and behaviours are met with either tears or hostility as she sees it purely as criticism. She won't listen despite several attempts from me and my little sister, because of this we are both LC with her.
I left my home country at 19, I'm an adult now, and I can see so clearly why I'm so messed up, but I just can't let go. I've been in and out of talking therapy, psychiatrists, CBT and grief counselling since I was 17. I know the techniques, I have the tools, and I have been practicing them to get better, but I just don't. I've tried medication too and they work until they stop working, it's pointless. If anything, the more time passes the more sad and resentful I become.
All I want is acknowledgement from either of them, for them to say they were wrong, an apology and some self work, anything. But I am left without a real mother and father. I have great support, my auntie is the closest thing I have to a mother and she's really stepped up in that role, even though she doesn't have to. My boyfriend is amazing and looks after my every need. But I'm so stuck on the past, I can't get over it. I have so many mental issues because of them and I really struggle getting through this life. I know there are people who have had it way worse but it just feels so unfair.
I'm not really sure what I want to get across by posting this. No one has ever acknowledged that sperm donor is a narcissist who took my only childhood away. Despite everything I have now, I feel so lost and alone. No one around me can relate. My little sister didn't grow up with him but she tries to understand. I guess I just want someone to tell me I'm not wrong, that all this did happen, that I was neglected time and time again.
Thank you for reading all of this.

Hello! I'll be honest, I don't know much about computers, and I have have been extremely stressed looking for a new computer after my Macbook Laptop recently broke. I have a budget of about 1,000-2,500 maximum 3K. I use programs like clip studio paint, photoshop, and blender, and I need something that has enough power and memory for saving many photos, pngs, and be accessible to different file types. I also like to game in my free time, stuff like minecraft and league of legends, I can run just fine, but I also wanna be able to run other games at higher than LOW GRAPHIS only, and as a mac gamer my options are VERY limited. On top of this i'd like something that can utilize higher resolutions such as 4k as I also have an Apple Studio Display and I wanna utilize it to its full potential. I'd also like possible 1-2 Tb of ssd storage. I also have a second monitor that is a Huion Drawing Tablet that I keep connected to my pc at all times. I don't want rbg, to be honest I just want it to look clean and be easy to clean I don't mind having a basic case as long as it works. (before i get the apple comments, the products were gifts for college which is why i've been putting off getting a desktop but I refuse to pay 900 to fix a barely functioning laptop, and that's life line is the studio display.) Thank you for anyone that reads this post, I'm a computer noob and really have no idea what I'm doing, I've honestly considered looking at prebuilts but something about them seems like it's always missing what I need.

This fic flows out of me way too easily, so I'm riding the waves while I can. Glad to see people enjoying it too! We continue where we left off, trying to figure out where to go, both with universe at large and with poor, lost child...
As usual, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for his own great work and letting fanfiction flow, and everyone who supported and enjoyed the fic thus far. So, let's see where this goes from now.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Dr. Erin Kuemper, SETI Researcher
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136
Before entering the conference room, I adjusted my dress suit. Even for official meetings, I usually just prefer simpler official outfits, but this time is different. Being invited to observe the first official diplomatic meeting between humanity and aliens, I wanted to be perfect for it, even if it was meeting the baby-eating monster aliens over a video call.
Stepping inside, I see the other people that would be present for it. Normally, as a SETI researcher, I would object to the presence of any military heads at such a meeting, on purely conceptual level, much less two. But with what we have learned I can’t help but almost feel like even entire room filled with generals wouldn’t be enough for this.
“Ah, Dr. Kuemper. Come in, take a seat. We plan to start hailing them in ten minutes.” Secretary-General motions towards one of free seats, so I take the one that’s further away from both generals. As I do though, General Jones starts talking to me.
“So, Dr. Kuemper, how’s our rescue doing? Were there any further incidents?”, she asked.
“No, not yet. She still hasn’t woken up since that last sedation. While we don’t understand nearly enough about her biology yet, drawing some parallels with biology of Earth life we can infer that while her life is no longer threatened, she will likely take a while to fully recover from blood loss and malnutrition. Much bigger problem will be communicating our intentions to her, as well as regaining her trust after... everything.”
“Is it really smart to assign Noah Williams as one of her main caretakers then?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.
“From analyzing the footage of the incident, she reacted the same way to all the humans in the room. I doubt it was Williams’ specific appearance that was the source of such intense fright. And that assignment is not just for the sake of the alien, but Williams himself. Him and Rosario are both, frankly, on suicide watch right now. They need a chance to try and do something to relieve their guilt.”
To that General Jones just hummed, before turning to the screen. I could also hear General Zhao, the Chinese general, snorting in amusement. I am not sure what he found funny about this, but I’d rather not know at all.
It wasn’t a rational call, I knew it, but if there’s anyone who can project most empathy possible towards our alien rescue, it’d be Noah. I have asked Sara if she wished to participate as well, but she struggles to even look at the child without throwing up, so for her, distancing might be for the best.
“We’re beginning to hail the Arxur Dominion now.” Secretary-General announced, standing in front of the screen, facing it. “Not sure how long it will take.”
“I bet time zones get a ton more complicated on interstellar level...” General Zhao grumbled.
Afterwards, there were long twenty minutes of silence, interrupted by an occasional cough or shuffle before finally screen shifted, and displayed the aliens. It appears they also were in a private conference room, like us. In the middle, standing tallest and looking at us was none other than Chief Hunter Isif from photos the Odyssey crew took. Behind him were two more arxur. One was similar to Isif in build and stature, though not quite as tall, and the other was notably shorter and scrawnier, with lighter scale coloration. Part of me almost assumed that was a female, before I remembered that in the data dump there were no signs of easily notable sexual dimorphism among the arxur. An adolescent then, perhaps?
“Humans. I am glad you responded to our invitation. I believe an introduction is in order. I am Chief Hunter Isif of Arxur Dominion.” The alien spoke, translators working already, translating the noises unlike anything human makes into discernable speech.
“Greetings, Chief Hunter Isif. I am Secretary-General Elias Meier. I represent the United Nations, or UN for short, a governing body meant to represent combined interests of all individual nations of Earth. Before we proceed, I need to ask. Will I not be speaking to your leader, Prophet-Descendant, today?”
That was on the agenda for the meeting, if I remembered correctly. Trying to interact with arxur other than Isif. To gauge just how far this goes. Though it doesn’t seem like it’s happening, considering Isif is the one who picked up and how now he was emitting a low hiss that almost felt like it was carrying amusement.
“No. No offense meant to you, humans, but we Chief Hunters are expected to conduct all business in our sectors on our own. You technically fall within my territory. Plus, why would I give up an advantage I have over other Chief Hunters so easily? We may not ever have war against one another, but the competition is fierce, and you might just be the edge I need to curry more favor.”
I noticed General Zhao scoffing at shameless honesty in arxur’s intentions for this ‘alliance’ they proposed in the databanks. Yeah, just use us to gain more advantage over his rivals. I can’t believe Secretary-General elected to deal with them after all.
“I see. I expected that. Still, even if we were granted an audience, our answer would have remained unchanged. Sorry to disappoint, Chief Hunter, but humanity simply cannot afford a full alliance with the Dominion.” Secretary-General spoke in neutral tone, but I could sense the strain in his voice.
The arxur on the screen had his facial features harden.
“I see. You’re still unconvinced of the prey’s threat to your unprepared world. You believe you may parlay with them.”
“Quite the contrary, we’re more than convinced and have no reason to believe you’re lying. However, while an alliance with you would grant us protection... It would also drag us into the war we wish no part of. We’re... grateful to you for showing hospitality to the crew of Odyssey, and for warning us of the threat, but we will not be diving into war we have no interest fighting.”
“You will not be able to hide forever.” Isif kept insisting, seemingly almost growing agitated. “We knew of you because they did, long before us. They may believe you dead, but all it’d take is one stray vessel for you to be doomed.”
Part of me wanted to be relieved that, despite the tense tone, the negotiations so far were going exactly as planned. Another part of me wept that we were intentionally alienating and putting distance between ourselves and the aliens. And a third part of me was disgusted at the fact that we were talking to them at all.
“Trust us, Chief Hunter, we do not plan to merely sit and wait to be discovered and exterminated. We will be preparing. We simply don’t wish to enter the fight without a good reason.” Elias continued, pushing on to the next topic. “That said, just because we don’t wish for alliance, doesn’t mean we can’t mutually benefit from one another still.”
I could see that the shorter arxur behind Isif was about to speak up, but flinched when the larger one glared at them. Isif himself narrowed his eyes at Elias.
“And what benefit do you see that isn’t us joining hands in battle for survival, Elias Meier?”
I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel Secretary-General smiling at Chief Hunter.
“Trade. Your people are, by your own admission, starving. We could provide a solution. What we lack, however, is information. In this universe, we’re blind, and just sending out probes risks discovery. If you’d be willing to supply us with intel on Federation, we’d be more than glad to relieve your hunger. Maybe not the whole Dominion... But definitely all of your sector’s arxur.”
Arxur behind Isif both slightly opened their mouths, eyes widening in almost human-like expression. Even Isif seemed to be taken slightly aback, though he composed himself much quicker, glaring at his subordinates to make them collect themselves. On our end, I could see General Zhao smirking, and General Jones tapping at her chin in contemplation, while I twiddled my thumbs nervously, waiting for rug to be pulled from under us.
“You promise a lot. Producing food in such quantities with just one planet, even if it were filled with cattle, is impossible. Simply unsustainable.” Isif replied.
“We have our ways, Isif. We solved hunger once, we can do so again. Not immediately, it will take time to ramp up production, of course... But once that happens, all you need to do is name your price in how much meat you need and we will provide. And all we want in return is information to better defend ourselves.”
There was a long pause of contemplation. When looking closely, I could see something that was either agitation... or excitement among Isif’s posse, but Chief Hunter himself remained unimpressed. Eventually he did speak up.
“Don’t think I will fall for such a trick, Elias Meier. You humans are still young, still naive to the cruelty of the universe. We were once like you, and were nearly wiped out for it. I will not have it happen to the only other True Sapient in the galaxy. I will trade information. But I can already sense what the first request will be, and you will not be getting translations for Federation languages.”
That made every human in the room except Elias tense up. I almost flinched at the accusation, Jones hid her mouth behind her hand and Zhao’s smirk turned into a frown. Only Secretary-General remained unshaken. Isif, in meantime, continued speaking.
“If you prove yourself capable of helping us, and manage to provide as much sustenance as you claim you can... I will consider it. But until then, I will not be accelerating your desire to commit extinction by Federation’s hands.”
“Then, if you need to benefit from us first before putting us at risk, we can only thank you again for your concern, Chief Hunter.” Secretary-General replied. I was surprised at how collected he remained despite the arxur completely seeing through our intentions with this ‘trade deal’. “Trust us, we have no interest in getting annihilated in antimatter fire, but we are willing to work to earn your trust. We will be sending lists of information we desire. I hope that partnership can strengthen the bonds between us further.”
“Indeed. We will review and return to you the amounts of food we will require for it. Show us what you are capable of, humans. Now let’s get this over with. Conversing like that is... tiring.”
Right. Arxur are naturally solitary, according to the databank they gave us. A species of biologically predisposed introverts...
“Farewell, Chief Hunter Isif.” Meier replied curtly, before the screen dimmed and camera light disappeared. Contact was over.
I let out a deep sigh of relief, realizing I’ve been holding it in for a while now. There... was a lot to consider about what just happened. I was told footage would be saved, so we can better analyze the arxur nonverbal cues later.
Elias turned to us and put his hands on the table.
“So, that didn’t go as bad as it could have. Any thoughts?”
General Zhao was first to speak up.
“We’ll need information on Federation tactics and weaponry. We’ll have to prepare a strong l space military regardless of whether they can be talked down, but it’s much easier to convince someone not to kill you when doing so risks their own life.”
“I’m more interested in whether there is any technology that could allow us to send spy drones into Federation space without leaving obvious trail back to us.” General Jones countered. “We might not even need arxur translators if we can decode the language via our own surveillance.”
Elias turned his eyes on me expectantly. I considered everything that happened, things Isif said and ways his presumably-lieutenants reacted to conversation, things we learned from their data bank... And it dawned on me.
“They... see us the same way we have seen them before learning of their horrid acts. First contact with someone who treats you like a person, and first people in the galaxy whom you can see as friends. We sought the stars seeking to not be alone in the universe, and while their ways are repulsive to us... It’s not true the other way. This cooperation to them is much more sentimental than it is to us. They want to be able to trust us and rely on us.”
Elias smiled and nodded at my assessment.
“Thank you for your input, everyone. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Dr. Kuemper, I hope you’re ready for tomorrow’s announcement and your promotion?”
Right. Tomorrow we’re revealing that First Contact has occurred to the public. It took a lot of effort to make it presentable without triggering mass panic, and some details will be omitted. That and I’m receiving a new position in the UN related to handling alien affairs. What a joy...
“As ready as I can be.”
“Then let’s get to it. It won’t be easy, people, but our entire civilization is at stake. We need to get this right, and in a way that won’t have our descendants condemning us.”
Right. Cooperation with arxur, this trade... I didn’t like the idea of it, but I understood. We needed their help. Perhaps through this cooperation, rather than them influencing us, reverse can be made true, unlikely as it may seem. Worst part was failing to secure any translators at all. While I’m sure generals are salivating at idea of cyber-espionage against the Federation, I just wanted to be able to communicate with the rescued child, and make sure we could properly help her recover. Still... We will do our best, even without them.
Memory Transcription Subject: Stynek, Venlil Test Subject
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136
Second time I woke up; the memories came to me much faster. How I was captured during the raid. How I spent months in cattle pens. How I was used as a meal for mystery predators. How they took me with them. And how I was now in their laboratory, or whatever closest thing predators have in their feral science.
Of course, my first instinct was to try and escape, but I couldn’t. I found myself actively strapped to the bed. I was panicked at first, trying to break through the restraints, but to no effect. So I let my head fall back onto surprisingly soft pillow and lay there... Awaiting my fate. But fate wasn’t coming, and I found myself getting a bit bored. So I raised my head and examined the room.
It seemed different from the room I was in before. Most of the machinery was gone, and the only big machine beside my bed wasn’t actually hooked up to me anymore. There was a large, predator-sized closet in the corner, and two big tables with seats. Of course, there was also bed itself. If not for the fact that I was slated to be butchered on this bed soon, it’d be the most comfortable place I got to lay down on since my capture. As is... It felt like cruel irony. I felt my eyes watering again. Did predators want to taunt me? Give me this sense of near-comfort as one last cruelty?
Subconsciously I tried calling out for mom, but felt my throat burn and ended up coughing instead. I think all the screaming recently wasn’t good for it, and with how dry my mouth was it didn’t help. Looking around I spotted it. A glass of water on a small stand beside the bed! Except it was completely out of reach. I tried shifting my tail under me, to try and extend towards it, but I’d need to have the bed flipped to have the chance at reaching. They probably left it like that intentionally... Letting me feel thirst, see the answer, but not be allowed to take it, all to make me suffer more.
I attempted to shift and wiggle against the restraints some more, when it hit me. It finally hit me that my leg was gone, gone for good. Even if I could somehow miraculously break those restraints... And get out of predator captivity... And make it back home to Venlil Prime... It wouldn’t be the same. I’d never live a normal life. My vision blurred with tears again. Why couldn’t they just end it... Why did... they have to make me suffer more.
Then the door opened and my heartbeat quickened. I realized just what I asked for, and looks like the universe itself wanted to give me that. Through the door stepped a figure... No longer clad in big rubbery suit. They probably realized such deception won’t work on me. But which of predators it was made my blood freeze.
It was the same one again... The dark-colored one that was there in meeting with arxur, and when I first woke up... Why was it always this one showing up over and over? Did all those predators look like that? He was wearing different outfit, maybe it was a different predator? No, it’s too similar, it must just be... assigned to me. My personal warden. Just like the pens had specific wardens assigned to them that were in charge of picking out meals.
This is it then. They must have done everything they wanted to do with me while I was unconscious and now that I was awake to feel it, were ready to finish me off. I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as the predator approached. I lost count of how many times I was anticipating death recently, but this was it... This must be it, finally, right? Universe can’t be cruel enough to do more to me, can it?
And as I waited for my demise, with held breath I lay. And lay. And waited. Until I realized that by now predator would long be within reach of my throat. I slowly opened my eyes, and blinked a few times to get the tears out. Sight of predator right beside me made me flinch, as it sat down by the bed, looking over me with its hungry, binocular eyes. I could see its mouth, lips quivering in hunger. And yet it did not lunge... Why?! Why can’t they just finish me off already? I felt so exhausted and fatigued by it all...
Predator seemed to lock its horrid eyes with my own eye. The gaze was intense, and I felt frozen. I couldn’t move, not even a muscle, as it just stared at me and I stared back. I felt a tear roll down my face, contributing more to the clump of matted fur, grown stained with so many tears. And that’s when the predator reached its hand for my head. I closed my eyes, recoiling away to the best of my ability. I... I didn’t want it... Please... Why can’t I just wake up back home, why can’t it all just be a nightmare...
I was prepared for its claw to grasp my face, to twist my neck, to scratch at me... But the only thing I felt was a small caress right under my eye, where the tear ran, wiping it off and rubbing at clumped fur, getting bits of dirt out in process. And then it was over. There was no attack. It was just more prolonging of the inevitable. It was so... tiring. I opened my eyes again, to look back at the predator. Really look back in those cruel eyes, to try and understand why the universe would have such evilness exist at all. The binocular gaze was horrible, but no amount of my instinct telling me to flee could help when I had neither the limbs nor freedom to move. So I just looked back. Into those small eyes when they suddenly blinked. And what could only be a tear rolled down the predator’s face. This made me mentally recoil.
How? Did a predator just shed a tear? But that’s... impossible. Only creatures with empathy can cry. That’s the textbook prerequisite for crying! You need to feel things to cry! Predators don’t have that! Arxur don’t have that. We learn that since before school. One of first things parents teach their kids is always the dangers of predators. But this is... Maybe it’s something in the room? Some noxious agent irritating its eyes? Then why can’t I feel it? Is it simply copying me? But why would it do that? Can you even copy something you can’t understand, like feelings? I didn’t understand. Maybe their biology was way more alien? Their skin was naked and had no fur or scales or feathers, maybe their tears are different too? I tried to find any explanation at all, any possible answer to questions swirling in my mind, but nothing made sense. It’s like this one little tear shattered everything I knew about predators. Maybe... They were different somehow? No! That can’t be it. If they were, they wouldn’t... They wouldn’t have been ones to take part in eating me! They wouldn’t deal with arxur! It’s a trick... it must be... But tears are a sign of empathy...
“W-Why...”, I asked in my confusion. My voice came out as ragged and hoarse and I was reminded of how dry my insides felt. I glanced over to the glass at the bedside, still out of reach and now with a predator near it... I stood no chance at reaching it.
Then suddenly, the predator looked over at it as well, and picked it up. I was almost about to cry at the idea that it would drink it in front of me, taunting my thirst further. But it didn’t even bring the glass close to its horrid mouth, instead moving it towards my face. Naturally, I tried pulling back from predator reach, but still restrained, I couldn’t move much. And once the glass was in front of me, predator just tilted it and... left it hovering there.
Was it... offering me a drink? Does that mean the water is poisoned? Why else would it give me some? I didn’t open my mouth, but the predator kept hovering the glass in front of me... Clear liquid inside swishing a bit with unevenness of the movements. Tantalizing... My throat felt drier just looking at it. In the end, base instinct prevailed over reason-based self-preservation. Even if it is poisoned... I was as good as dead in this den of predators, this won’t matter, and at least I’ll die not feeling as dry as a piece of old tree bark. So I let my mouth open and I raised my head as much as I could within the restraints, putting the glass’s rim into my mouth.
That first sip was probably the most heavenly water I’ve ever tasted. It was just normal water, of course, but with how dry I felt, I couldn’t get enough as I started quickly gulping it down. The predator actually helped, tilting the glass, keeping up with how quickly I emptied it. Every gulp was a relief... It was no stale water of arxur pens. It was actually fresh water! But as quickly as it started, the happiness ended, glass fully tilted and empty. I smack my mouth, gathering little bits of moisture gathered on it with my tongue, while the predator moves the glass back onto the counter.
Well, if that had poison in it, I didn’t taste any. And if it was somehow tasteless... It was worth it. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the predator and its actions, so instead I did my best to just ignore it as I savored the feeling of hydration. If I somehow live through this, unlikely though it may be, I will never scorn water again. Though I will probably still prefer some good juice over it...
The predator started moving again, removing the blanket-like sheet that was covering most of my body and reaching to where my restraints connected to the bed itself. It locked its eyes with me again, and this time it at least didn’t cry, but it did start to growl something. It was quiet and subdued, and of course I couldn’t understand any of it, but it didn’t lunge or reach for me directly and didn’t seem any different from earlier. Was it trying to say something?
Then I heard a small click. The light pressure I felt on my arms and chest from the restraints relaxed. Then the predator just tossed the restraint over me, revealing that they released me. I tested it by raising my arms slightly. Why...? Did they plan on taking me somewhere? I could try running but the feeling of lightness, of hollow emptiness where my leg used to be reminded me of how fruitless the endeavor would be, so I just kept laying in bed. The predator’s mouth curved in some wicked expression before they growled out some more of their crude words and got up.
They moved towards the exit, turning around to give me one last creepy staredown before stepping out of the room. And, unsurprisingly, I heard a soft click from the door itself. Right. I was just free to explore my new pen. But even with the freedom granted, I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. The shock of learning that a predator just shed a tear and fed me water was still too much. What is even happening?
It’s all so confusing. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it over my head, hiding in the dark. I tried to desperately convince myself to not get my hopes up, to remember what those predators did to me... But somewhere I felt like maybe things here will at least be better than they were in arxur pens. At least there’s that to comfort me. That’s right, they probably just... don’t want me to die yet because they haven’t finished experimenting on me... And the tears were just... I don’t know. It makes no sense! It’s stupid!
I let out a breath and snuggled tighter into the blanket. As long as it was dark and quiet like this, I could at least pretend that I was back home... That everything makes sense... That I am just fine... That I'll be okay...
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Hey Reddit! This may become a lengthy post, so I will add a TL;DR at the bottom. I changed everyone's names in this post to keep their privacy.
I (23f) have been friends with Larry for roughly 3½ years. We met at a hospital and became temporary roommates in 2021, after I went through a long-term treatment and had nowhere to go. We decided to stay roommates and rent a bigger apartment together, which we moved into in Nov. 2022.
Larry and I have a shared friend circle and have been getting along great for almost 3 years. We never really had any fights before (which I now realize was mostly due to us both being scared of conflict and me leaving minor red flags uncommented). But many things changed when I started dating my (now-)fiancé.
Here are the reasons I think Larry may have turned into a toxic friend (I'm going to try to stick with the major things + examples):

• 1.) POTENTIAL GUILT TRIPPING; (I am writing "potential", since I obviously can't be 100% sure whether Larry's intention really is to make me feel guilty, but it feels a lot like it.) There are quite a few situations where I felt guilt-tripped, but it would be too long to list them all so I will tell you about a recent situation:

My fiancé and I were at my grandma's on mother's day and ate there. Larry asked us about dinner plans when we returned, to which we both replied that we were currently full and we'd just throw a pizza in the oven in case we'd get hungry later. Larry said he would also eat later then, so we could all have dinner together. We told him he didn't need to wait for us and to just eat if he was hungry but he insisted on waiting. That same evening there was a huge argument between Larry and us over a plastic wrapper that had fallen out of the trash can (Larry lashed out on us out of nowhere, accused us of leaving the trash there on purpose and complained that he had to crouch down to pick it up when he was in pain, instead of just asking for help). My fiancé and I avoided Larry for the majority of the evening, because we were still upset and the conflict was not resolved. We went to the kitchen to drink something and Larry came in, sat down and after a couple minutes of silence asked something along the lines of: "Didn't we want to have dinner together? I waited the whole time, but you didn't come!" I told him that the fighting spoiled my appetite and I didn't want to eat anything to which my fiancé agreed. Larry then said something like: "Great, then I won't get to eat tonight. Actually I am super hungry, but I can't eat alone, so if you don't eat I won't get to eat anything either."

• 2.) HYPOCRISY; I already mentioned that Larry and I have a shared circle of friends and whenever Larry and I get into an argument, he is quick to call our friends and vent to them. However, Larry told me that he doesn't want me to talk about those conflicts with my family members or people he doesn't know. He says he is "scared they may turn me against him and ruin the friendship". He never asked me whether I am okay with him ranting to our shared friends though and I usually avoid dragging our friends into it, because I don't want to make them feel awkward or put them in a position where they may have to pick sides.
  
• 3.) INTENTIONAL MISUNDERSTANDING/OVERSTATEMENTS AND ACCUSATIONS; Larry has a tendency to present his assumptions and interpretations as facts. An example: Larry was at work and I was up in my room. I didn't hear when he came home (I was playing a video game, I think) and he didn't come upstairs to greet me. He later told his daughter Bonnie (15f), that I had locked myself in my room, since I wasn't feeling well. At least that is what Bonnie told me, but it is very believable to me, because he also said things like that about me to or in front of me in the past.
  

What I mean by intentional misunderstandings is this: I always choose my words very carefully to prevent misunderstandings and accidentally hurting or offending people. Larry, often times, tells me that I said certain things to him, which I know I didn't and/or would never say. For example:
I went to the hospital for psychogenic issues and had to stay there overnight. During that time he often had huge fights with Bonnie and the constant screaming and general turbulence at home stressed me a lot. I told him that if I noticed myself getting too stressed out due to the situation at home, I would consider staying at my mom's or fiancé's place for a couple days to avoid ending up in the hospital again. His reply was (I don't remember the exact wording, but the key message is the same): "So you are just gonna abandon us when Bonnie raises her voice? Great, I thought we'd go through everything together and you'd always help me, but if you want to leave as soon as Bonnie gets upset, sure!" I told him that wasn't what I said or meant and explained again that I need to prioritize my health and that next time I wouldn't ignore my psychogenic symptoms until it escalates, but retreat to a place where I could get a breather. After hearing my explanation he, once again, accused me of planning to abandon him and his daughter at the first "opportunity that presents itself". I told him once more that that wasn't what I said or meant, but he stuck to his version and brought it up multiple times in the days following that conversation.

• 4.) DISRESPECTING BOUNDARIES; I remember an incident where I walked into the kitchen after waking up and Larry instantly started complaining about his ex-wife and the way CPS handled their case etc. I told him: "I just woke up, can I please have breakfast in peace, before talking about such hefty topics? I am still too tired to listen or give advice properly." Larry said that was okay, but as soon as I had prepared my bowl of cereal he continued ranting and asking me for my opinions on the matter. I was too tired to argue, so I just did my best to follow what he was saying and gave half-hearted, short answers. Another example: During the last big fight we had, he wanted to hug me. I told him I didn't want to, but he insisted and kept walking towards me. My fiancé, who was right next to me, snapped and shouted at Larry for not respecting my boundary and that I clearly said no. Larry later claimed that he had respected my boundary and had neither tried to verbally pressure me into hugging him, nor taken another step in my direction.
  
• 5.) LYING (AND GASLIGHTING?); Larry lies very very frequently and gets really aggressive and defensive whenever someone points that out. An example:
  

We have two dogs that usually sleep in my room. One night I got really panicked, cause I kept hearing noises in the hallway outside my door, so I locked myself in my room for the night. The next day I was sitting in the kitchen with Larry and at some point I looked at the clock and said: "Oh shit, I need to walk the dogs!" Larry was confused and said I didn't have to do that, because he had walked them early in the morning as he "always does". I told him that was impossible, cause the dogs were locked inside my room with me. At first Larry insisted he had been outside with them, but after telling him again that it was just not possible he did a full 180 and lashed out at me for "constantly locking the dogs in my room with me, which made it impossible for him to walk them". I don't lock myself in overnight regularly, it was a one time thing. In another conversation Larry actually admitted to not walking the dogs every morning, but only after he had claimed to be walking them every morning earlier in that same conversation. According to Bonnie and my fiancé he doesn't go outside with the dogs every morning, as he claims. They have witnessed him leaving for work without walking the dogs multiple times, yet he always said he had done it when somebody asked him about it.
This infuriates me so much, because I told him at least twice that I was grateful he walked the dogs in the morning but that there was no shame if he didn't have the time or energy to do so on some days. I asked him to just inform me in that case, because the doggos need to pee. His reply was that walking the dogs in the morning was something he enjoyed doing and it was therapeutic for him - he never once texted me or left me a piece of paper saying that the dogs have yet to be walked. Why the borderline animal abuse??? Why not just be honest?
Larry also constantly tells me how much I've changed, that I am not the person he initially befriended etc., since I have been dating my fiancé. He also told me in an argument that all my friends were distancing themselves from me because I had changed so much. I once asked him to define this grave change he was describing, which he couldn't. I ended up asking my other friends about it and they told me I had been a little different in the beginning of the relationship, but it all went back to normal after a couple weeks and that, to them, I was still the same likeable person.

• 6.) DELIBERATE PROVOCATION; Larry often does things, that he knows make me angry. He knows that, because I told him about it insanely often and I continue to do it every time it happens. One of those things is constantly asking me whether "everything is okay between us". And by constantly I mean CONSTANTLY. I tell him everything's fine and he says: "I don't believe you." over and over until I snap and raise my voice. He then asks me why I'm so angry all of a sudden. He uses situations like these as a reaction to being criticized by saying: "You are also bitchy sometimes, like last time when I asked you whether everything's alright." I told him that this behaviour infuriates me, but he told me he just is like that and that I have to accept it, that I never had a problem with it before (which is not true) and that I also have flaws.

I don't know if these are just normal behaviours in conflict, if Larry is really toxic or if what he does is borderline abusive. I am terrified of losing our shared friends if I move out and that the 3 months we have to stay in this apartment after canceling the rental agreement will become hell for me. What if he turns Bonnie against me with his manipulation tactics and I have to spend 3 months in an apartment where it's 2 against one? I am also terrified of Larry not giving up my dog, since his name is also in the purchase contract.
TL;DR: The friend I share an apartment with is behaving in various ways that I think could be toxic and I don't know how to get out of here without losing everything.

This is going to be a long post, but im going to break it down into some points of empahsis and then explain them in detail

• took pictures of my feet in the restroom (this is allegedly as im not 100% thats what he did)
• attempted to walk out in front of me while i was driving a forklift ON PURPOSE
• Put another manager up to provoke me into saying something so that i could get wrote up and subsequently fired
• makes comments about my clothing and shoes in a "making fun of" way
• accused me of stealing time in front of other associates
• was previously reported for taking pictures of people in the restroom

So for the first bulletin, i was in the restroom with another person in another stall, he was in before i walked in, and i had not heard any noises or music come from his stall, about 7 minutes in to using the restroom, the manager in question walked in, he then stood in front of my stall (he usually walks to the sink first to wash his hands then uses the restroom) but instead of hearing water run, i heard the audible click of a iphone camera, he is a taller guy so it sounded like it came from up higher in the air, rather than lower to the ground like someone on a toilet, then he walked into the toilet as i was coming out of the stall to wash my hands
the second bulletin: i was driving a forklift in the store, with a spotter, who was 10 feet away, i had saw the manager in question standing off to the side, and was cautious of him and any one else in the area, so that i wouldnt hit them, as i was driving, he attempted to step out into the aisle that i was driving down, at the very last second that i could stop, almost as if he was wanting to be hit, i waved him to continue on, but he waved me to keep driving, later on after i went home, i was told by my spotter, that the manager had looked at him, and gave him a weird face, almost as if he was planning on doing this on purpose, pre mediated (im sure on the camera footage that it will show him purposely turn to look at my spotter and then turn back around)
the third bulletin: i was working on stocking some items onto a pallet of like items, we work at a home improvement store in the garden section, so we have to use forklifts to raise the items in the air for us to combine pallets, as im half way working on the aisle, a DS (department supervisor) comes out and says you and the other people out here need to come help bring in carts, i told him that i would be out after i was finished with my current objective, he walked away and said i better see you outside in 15 mins, and the ASM (assistant store manager) in question walked out and said something along the same lines, i told him the same thing, and he said "you have been working on this all day why isn't it done" so i explained to him that customers are a thing, and that we have to keep refilling items because they take them, and that i would get the carts after i was finished doing my current job, also that it was a sunday (we open later and close earleir on sundays) and that we didnt have enough time to finish what we needed to do and get carts at the same time, he walks away and says that i dont have to do carts, but the ENTIRE outside lawn and garden area better be spotless", and then the same DS as before comes back out and says something along the lines of "if you dont get out here to help, im going to fill out your termination papers" so i went outside and helped them, came back, and finished what i could before my scheduled time to leave. Later on i found out from the DS telling another associate that told me, he said that the ASM in question put him up to basically threatening me to help get carts and that if i didnt get carts, he was going to write me up for anything that he could have found when he did a ("walk" walking is just looking at the aisles and making sure they are clean and neat and filled) and thats why the DS threatened me with the termination because he didnt want me to get in trouble, because we are sort of friends so it was likely a heads up without specifically saying thats the reason why
bulletin 4: multiple times hes made comments about my shoes (we work with alot of soil, mulch, rocks, and just dirty items) and said they were dirty and was making fun of them basically, he did this in front of the other ASMs in the store as well as the SM (store manager) another occurrence was i was wearing some shoes without shoe laces (they are the type of shoe that is like a giant sock, so even with no shoe laces they can be worn, they are more comfortable without shoe laces *huarache run no laces*) another time i was wearing some adidas NMDs, he said something along the lines of "are those feezys?" (fake yeezys = feezys), he also said the same joke about another pair of adidas shoes that i had worn to work
fifth bulletin: we had been working on a sunday (if you notice these things always happen on a sunday) and it was getting close to closing time, so we were trying to hurry up and finish things so we could leave, our forklift was broken in a way where it wouldn't raise up all the way, so we were stuck with basically a forklift that raised 8 feet, so we couldnt fill certain items, we basically completed 95% of what needed to be done, and what was left, was block pallets that were in our top stock, above the 8 feet height that our forklift would go, he came out around 9:05pm after i called him to lock the gate (he loves to wait until the very last second to come lock our gate so he can basically try to keep up over our time to leave, the past 3 nights ive worked with him, ive called him 30 minutes before closing time to lock the gate, and he has came out at 11, 11:05, and 9pm each time) and he walked with me and asked why the blocks weren't finish, and i explained to him about the forklift, he said thats ok im going to lock this gate, work on putting these returns away, so i put the cart of return away, and went to put my vest and store phone away, and walked up to the front of the store waiting to be let out as it was 9:25pm and i was supposed to be scheduled until 9pm, another associate (who is also forklift trained and also works outside with me) had walked up at about 9:27, the ASM in question walked up at 9:29pm and asked me why i was just wasting time standing up at the front when i could have been working, i told him it was my time to go and that the forklift was broken so my job was finished for the night as i was over the time to leave by 30 minutes, he said that i was time stealing (said this in front of 2 other associates) and that i could have been working, i asked him if i was allowed to leave ( which we are not allowed to leave unless we are let out by the closing manager in groups of 3 per policy) and he didnt answer, so i clocked out and he said so you are basically time stealing, i asked him how i was time stealing if we are required to stay on premises until a manager lets us out, and he didnt answer, i also said why am i the only one being spoken to about this when another associate that is ALSO forklift trained and works in the same department wasnt being spoken to and why it was just me, he said "because you are just standing up here" when the other person was also "just standing up here"
final bulletin: after the incident where i was led to believe that a picture was taken of me in the restroom, i had confided in another person that works in the store (they are a manager as well) about the situation, and that how i felt violated, they had let me know that the ASM in question was previously reported to HR for along the same reason, and that its not the first time its happened, which led me to believe that the incident that happened to me was more than likely true, as i was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, so i didnt think twice as it may have been a accident, but not that i know he was previously report for it, it makes it 1000x more believable
My question for you guys is, Do i have a case for harrasment or anything else? I have yet to present this to my HR department because i have no tangible evident other than the word from the DS,and it would be he said he said type of thing. i cant bring up the fact that i know he previously was reported for the same thing to HR because they would want to know how i obtained that information.