Im bored and my mom is sleeping |

Young Luke Is Sitting In The Car With His Mom They're Singing A Song Together
L: So Mom When Exactly Are We Going To Paris
M: In About 2 Weeks
L: Man I'm Sooo Excited I Always Wanted To Go There
M: Yeah I Am Too It's Said To Be The Romanti....
The Car Crashes And Luke Hits His Head And Is Knocked Out
He Wakes Up His Vision Is Really Blurry But He Sees A Truck Pulling Off
L: Wha... What The....Mom Mom Where Are You Mom!!!!
Luke Is Sitting At Home While The Police Is Talking To His Dad
A Day Later He Comes Down Stairs And Sees His Dad Crying
He Walks To His Room With His Friends
O: Hey You Ok
L: No I...I Wanna Find Out Who Did That To My Mom I Saw A Truck Leaving When That Happened
O: So What Do Think It Was
L: I Don't Know Might Have Been A Hit And Run Or Maybe It Was Planned I Don't Know But I'm Gonna Catch Whoever That Was
3 Years Later
L: Ok Bye Dad Love Ya
D: Bye Luk...
Luke Slames The Door
D:...Bye
Luke Runs Too School
Jack Gets Up And Walks Down Stairs And Sees His Mom Cooking And His Dad With A Beer In His Hand Sleep He Walks Outside And Walks To School
Owen Jumps Up And Runs Outside
M: Owe....
Owen Slams The Door And Runs To School
They All Meet Up
L: Yooo Owen What's Up Man
O: Hey Luke What's Up
J: Hey Guys
L: Hey Jack How You Been
J: I've Been Good
L: Hey You Haven't Been In School For 3 Days What Happened
J: Ooo Nothing Just Some Family Stuff
L: Oh Ok.....So My Uncle Said That The Base Is Gonna Be Finished Today So We Can Become Heroes Man
J: Seriously Ok I'm Ready
O: Yeah I'm Gonna Beat Up So Many Villains
They All Walk Into The School
Intro Start's
M: Ok I Know You Guys Must Be Confused Basically Nine Months Ago I Found A Metal Bat In My School And Thought WOW I Could Use This To Fight Crime Like I Always Wanted Too So I Asked My Uncle To Put Some Tech Into This Bat But Then He Offered To Builf Me A Base To Be In He's Rich And So I Asked My Best Friends If They Want In And They Jumped At The Opportunity And Well That's About It
Schools Done
Owen Is In His Boxing Club
Luke Is In The Tech Club
And Jack Goes Home
Later That Day
Luke Comes Home
L: Hey Dad Sorry For Earlier I Was In A Rush
D: That Ok So How Was School
L: Nice I Guess I Was Waiting On Something So I Didn't Really Do Anything In School
D: What Are You Excited For
L: Nothing Really Just Something Small
D: Oh Ok Then
Luke Runs Upstairs
Owen Runs In The Basement
And Jack Goes In His Room
Luke Goes In His Closet And Goes To The Base
They All Come Down At The Same Time
L: Wowww!!!!!
Luke Runs Over To The Suit
L: Woah All This Tech And Is This A Nano Tech Sword
Luke Hugs His Uncle
L: Thanks So Much
U: Your Welcome
U: Hey Owen You Still Practicing That Move I Told You About
O: Of Course
U: Jack You Still Using The Computer I Got You
J: Yep And Thanks For That It's Really Helped Me With My Detective Research
U: And Jack You've Mastered The Art Of.....The Bat
L: Ha Yeah As Much As I Can
U: Alright Then This Is The Official Base For QuantumStrike
They All Smile
U: And I've Got One More Surprise For You Guy's
L: What
U: Look
They Look And See A Truck
LOJ: WOW
They All Go To The Truck
L: Wow This Is Awesome
U: Go Inside
L: Um Ok
The Truck Door Opens
They All Look Shocked
They Walk Inside The At See A Base
L: What The How Is Thi Possible
U: It's A Mix Of Nano Tech Shape Morphing Technology Holographic Projection And Adaptive Exterior Panels
L: I Can't Believe This Is Real!
U: Alright Now Come Out
They All Come Out
U: Ok So It Can Also Be A House Inside For Just Chilling Or Anything Like That
L: What Man Your The Best Uncle Ever Thanks
U: No Problem Now I Gotta Go But Enjoy Guys
He Leaves
They Look At The The Armor's
L: So I Already Mine Is Gonna Be The One With The Bat So What Are You Guys Picking
O: Well I Like Hand To Hand Fighting More So I'ma Go With The That One
J: Already Well That Leaves Me The One With The Sword Which I Like Anyway
L: Ok Then Well We Picked I Wonder If We Will Meet Any Superheroes Out There
J: Hopefully
L: Ok Soo We're Gonna Go And Rest And After School We're Gonna Come Back
J: Alright Then See You Guys Tomorrow
L: Alright Then Bye Guys
O: See You Later
They All Leave
Owen Lays Down
Luke Goes Down Stairs
And Jack Goes To Bed
His Mom Comes In The Room
M: Hey Jack
J: Hey Mom
M: Dinners Ready
J: Ok I'ma Be Done In One Second
M: Ok
The Door Is About To Close
M: And Hey
J: Yeah
M: I Love You
J: I Love You Too
Owen Goes Down Stairs
D: Hey Owen
O: Hey
D: So What Do You Want For Dinner
O: Anything I Guess Doesn't Matter
D: Well..Ok Then Burgers It Is
O: K
His Dad Pauses And Turn's Around
D: Look Owen I Know This Divorce Has Been Hard On You But Please Work With Me A Little
O: Mabye YOU Should Have Worked On Your Relationship
D: HEY LOOK THAT IS NOT FAIR
O: WHAT'S NOT FAIR IS THIS MESS OF A LIFE A IM IN RIGHT NOW YOU KNOW WHAT IM NOT HUNGRY
Owen Get's Up And Storms Out
Jack Goes To The Kitchen And Sees His Dad
J: Hey Dad How Was Work
D: What Do You Think Terrible As Hell
M: Jake He Was Just Trying To Talk To.....
D: Did I Ask You What He Wanted
J: Sorry For Asking Dad
They Sit Down
She Gives Them Their Food
D: What The Hell Is This
M: A Burger Jake
D: I Wanted Steak
M: Well You Never Told Me That Jake
D: I've Been Telling You That For A Week I Work Everyday And I Can't Get Some Damn Steak
M: Jack Go Up Stairs
J: O..Ok
They Start Arguing
He Covers His Ears
J: Damnit!!!
He Goes In His Closet And Goes To The Base
J: Well Guess I'm Here Alone
He Looks At The Car
And Remembers The Inside Could Be A House
He Presses The Button The Inside Starts Transforming
He's About To Go In
U: Hey Jake Is That You
J: Y.. Yeah Sir Sorry I Just Needed Somewhere To Go
U: Oh You Ok
J: Yeah I'm Fine I'm Just Bored
U: You Wanna Train A Bit
J: Um Ok
They Start Training With His Sword
U: Ok Now Do This
He Swings The Sword
U: Now When You Swing A Sword Mostly Use Your Lower Back Torso And Shoulders
J: Ok Then
He Swings The Sword Better This Time
U: Ok Ok Good
J: Ok Thanks Sir
U: Wait One More Thing
J: What
U: Wanna See The Powers It Has
J: Yes!!
Luke Sits Down At The Dinner Table
L: Hey Dad
D: Hey Luke Soo I Made Burgers
L: Oh Thanks Dad
His Dad Sits Down And Gives Luke The Food
They Eat The Food
L: Ok Thanks Dad I'ma Go To Sleep
D: Luke Wait
He Turn's Around
L: Yeah Dad
D: Im Gonna Go See Your Mother Tomorrow And I Would Like It If You Would Finally Come With Me
L: No I'm Ok Dad
D: JAKE
HE Stands There
D: You Have To Go See Her Eventually
L: No I Don't
D: But Why
L: I JUST
He Stands There
L: Bye
He Walks Away
His Dad Looks Down
He Goes Up Stairs
And Cry's
The Next Day
They All Come To School
L: Hey Guys
O: Hey
J: Yeah Hey
They Go Into School
L: Hey Guys What's Up
E: Hey Luke
S: Hey Luke Can You Help
L: Yeah Oh Our Robot What's Wrong
S: He's Glitching When We Try To Make Him Walk
L: Oh That's A Easy Fix
He Fix's The Robot
S: Thanks Luke
L: No Problem
Owen Enters The Ring
O: Alright Who Am Training With
M: Me
O: Oh Mark Hey
T: Ok So Owen What's Your Strategy
O: Swing Fast
T: Ok Owen Swinging Fast Can't Be Your Only Sta..
Owen Swings And Misses
He Gets Punched And Falls
O: Damn
He Punches The Guy Twice And Knocks Him Down
The Guy Gets Up And He Tries To Hit Him Again But Gets Knocked Out The Ring
T: Oh
M: Oh Man I'm Sorry You Ok
O: Yeah Yeah I'm Fine Good Job Man
Jack Is Walking Through The School With His Earphones In And A Guy Pushes Him
He Looks Back
B: Oh Sorry
He Laughs And Walks Away
He Looks Down And Walks Into Class
They Leave School
L: Alright Team Let's Go
J: Hey Luke Can I Go To Your House Instead
L: Um....Ok
J: Thanks
They Go To Luke's House And Goes Upstairs
J: Where's Your Dad
L: Um He Went To See...My Mom
J: Why Didn't You Go
L: No Reason Jack Um You Ready
J: Um.. Yeah
L: Ok
Luke Goes Into The Closet Then Jack Goes
They Enter The Base
L: Hey Owen Where My Uncle
O: I Don't Know
L: Hmm Ok Well Let's Train A Bit
O: Alright
They Get There Weapons
U: Hey Everyone
L: Hey Unk
U: So You Guys Training
L: Yeah
U: Yeah You Guys Seen The News
L: Um No
Owen Turns On The TV
NR: Amazing Lightning Strike Has Defeated Another Dangerous Criminal
They Show Footage Of Him Defeating The Criminal
L: Wow Amazing
J: I Hope I Can Meet Them
O: Me Too
U: Speaking Of Lightning Luke
L: Yeah
U: You Wanna See What That Bat Can Do
L: Yeah Definitely
The Alarm Goes Off
They All Look
L: Well Guy's Looks Like Our First Mission Is Here Let's Go
They Suit Up And Walk To The Truck
L: Alright Let's G....
Luke Falls In The Car
L: Owww What The Who Turned The Inside Into House
J: Who Huh That's My Bad Sorry
L: Oh Why Were...Let's Go
The Truck Drives Into The City
They Get Out The Car And There's People Running
L: I Wonder Who We're Fighting
O: Luke Watch
Luke Get's Punched Into A Wall
L: Owww
Owen Tries To Punch The Villain But He Grabs Owen And Throws Him Into A Wall G my Jack Is The Only Person There
J: Gravity Grip
It Doesn't Work And He Gets Punched Into A Car
Him And Luke Tries To Hit Him Again But They Get Grabbed
They Try To Get Away But He's Not Letting Go
Owen Punches Him In The Stomach With A Giant Hand And He Hits Into The Bank
L: Nice Job
O: Thanks
J: So He Definitely Has Super Strength
L: Yeah.... Alright I'ma Take The Lead
He Walks Up To Him
The Villain Get's Up And They Both Stand There hu

 THE END

I'm not sure if it's because I text too much and maybe it's too much, but i notice that a lot of the time I don't really get any response or the responses that I do get sound very half-hearted.
Recently I signed up for this hackathon, opting to be a solo participant because I thought I could make new friends. Groupings were only announced recently, but I am not getting many responses and no one is initiating plans. Even if I do get a response, there isn't much substance. For example, I try initiating conversations by asking questions about whether we should discuss on our team name or what they're looking out of the hackathon. However, the replies are usually to tell me to decide or not getting anything at all.
I've been stressing over this the entire day. I'm thinking either my questions are too boring or they don't really care about this as much as I do. Not very sure if it's a problem with me being too excited or coming off as too strong.
I think something similar has happened before, but I'm more worried about it now because these are strangers haha. I'm about to go to sleep, so I might only see replies in the morning.
I hear a lot online that you get better at talking to people by talking to people, but I don't know if I'm doing it right. I'm turning 18 this year if that helps and this is regarding a university hackathon.

For some context: I live in a flat with my wife, our two children and my parents. As I have been unemployed for over 2 years, my wife and parents usually give me money to buy cigarettes. My mom hates the fact that I'm a heavy smoker and she has been urging me to quit smoking. A few days ago, she told me that she'll no longer provide me money to purchase cigarettes, which I didn't agree to since she's the one living in my house without having to pay any rent. Yesterday evening, she caught me taking money from her wallet to buy cigarettes.
Last night, when I stepped out of the flat to smoke along the corridor, she LOCKED the door on me and REFUSED to open it until the next day. The thing is, I always go shirtless at home so I was stuck outside in just my shorts. No shops nearby would accomodate me for the night since I wasn't properly dressed and none of the neighbors let me in either. I ended up sleeping ON THE CORRIDOR.
When she let me back into the flat this morning, I was absolutely furious. I decided to get revenge by locking myself in my parents' bedroom for a few hours and smoked a whole pack inside before getting out. My parents are now angry at me but I think she got what she deserved for locking me out of my own flat.
Did I go too far with my actions?

Hi, I'm new to reddit but this sub came up many times as I was googling so I'm here for advice! I just had my 5th baby at the end of February and for the first time I'm struggling with nursing. All my others were champs, my first two kids refusing bottles even and being enormous chunks, my next two switched between bottles and nursing with no issues and we're small-average. This fifth kid is giving me a run for my money, just when I thought I had it figured out. She was my biggest at birth but lost a ton of weight in the beginning. We got to the point where we were supposed to be doing top ups in bottles when she wasn't gaining enough, but at first she refused bottles. Eventually got her to take a bottle but she wasn't gaining enough so we were told to do all bottle feeds for a while to make sure she was getting enough and actually able to gain weight. She finally has been gaining weight and I've been pumping 8-10 times a day and adding some formula as needed. To say I loathe this is an understatement. I am honestly just not cut out to be a bottle feeding mom. Once I literally brought everything and pumped in the car but had forgotten a nipple, so I had a screaming baby with no way to feed her and even if she would have latched then, I had just pumped so there wasn't much to give. The actual pumping isn't the worst right now, I'm in the car with my older kids enough that I pump on the go while or use a wearable pump so it's fine, I just stick everything in the fridge and wash at the end of the day so that part doesn't even bother me. I will never not have dishes to do with 5 kids. But holy moly, the packing up my entire kitchen to leave the house with pump parts, bottles, bags to store milk, I haaaaaaaaaaaaate it. So even if I wanted to do full formula I'd still be dragging crap out of the house, just minus the pump stuff. I loved my days of not being able to forget baby food, it was attached to my body and so easy. I've been scouring the sub and seen many inspiring and successful stories of getting baby back to breastfeeding, but my baby likes to do things backwards apparently. Everyone said they'd nurse then offer a bottle to top up, but my baby won't nurse if she's hangry, she just screeches until she gets a bottle. Once she's no longer hangry she will nurse just fine. She'll finish a feed if I gave a smaller bottle, or comfort nurse. Sometimes if I try to nurse maybe 45 minutes to an hour after a regular feed she'll have a snack, but I am just not able to get her to nurse start to finish for a normal feeding. The closest I get to that currently is if she wakes up super early in the morning I can pull her into bed with me and nurse side-lying. She will immediately latch and settle/go back to sleep, but she's definitely not getting a full feed. Once we're actually up for the day I still get my biggest pump and she will still want a whole bottle. So good news is she will latch and nurse and we both enjoy it (if anything I am desperately clinging to these sessions because it's one of my favorite parts of motherhood and I am bitter that this isn't working when I've seen the light on the other side). If this baby is "backwards combo/triple fed" how would you go about getting back to nursing full time with no more bottles?
Edit: if it matters any I am using the Pigeon brand bottles on the 0+ month nipple in hopes of not having her get too attached to a fast flowing bottle and we do pace feed .

Hi y'all. I'm pretty much at my wits end.
I have a dermatologist appointment today but thought I'd ask around here anyway.
Backstory: I had eczema when I was really really young, honestly so young that the only thing I remembered of it was having a patch of it on my butt and my mom applying cream to it and then never really dealing with it ever again. She thought I had eczema on my face though it appeared as white patches and I vaguely remember this but for at least a decade or more I did not have eczema. My skin was perfect, genuinely so clear I didn't have to use much product on it.
Fast forward to November of 2019; I started taking hormonal birth control and noticed within a few months that I started getting eczema patches (also was having facial rashes but I thought this was due to trying out a new skincare) I went to the dermatologist who prescribed me Triamcinolone 0.1% ointment for my body rashes. I don't ever EVER remember using steroids much. I'd use it one to two days, and would stop when it starts to fade. Anyway my eczema was pretty lowkey in general and in 2021, we adopted a cat. I did notice my eczema worsening slightly ever since getting my cat but was managing with Triamcinolone (I think at this point my dermatologist prescribed me a tub of it I think December of 2021)
Again, I don't use steroid much and when I do I think it's really just for emergencies (my eczema was genuinely such a secondary aspect of my life I don't even remember much of how I managed it other than letting it ride and maybe applying steroid when needed). I remember the tub expired and I hadn't used even half of the ointment. I was also prescribed Mometasone and Fluoccionide? But I never used either of them as I didn't feel comfortable to.
In September of 2022, I caught COVID while overseas and it caused a pretty gnarly flare on the inner side of my elbows. Since I was overseas I just managed with moisturizing but I remember applying steroid when I came home. We adopted a second cat later this year.
Since then I think my eczema HAVE gotten worse, but there was a period of at least 6 months where I wasn't using steroid creams at all because I was either just dealing with it or it was barely there.
Fast forward to 2023.
I noticed a rash on the top of my right hand that I was initially managing with just moisturizing. But I remember having such intense itch on this rash that I kept itching, and at one point I itched with my shirt and it caused it to be infected. It was so gnarly, bright red, oozing, literally would not stop oozing, painful. I went back to my dermatologist 5 days later when I realized that oh this might be worse than just a regular eczema. She gave me Mupirocin and another tube of Triamcinolone (since my previous one expired) as well as a course of Doxycycline. I used the Mupirocin as directed for I think 10 days, and was not yet using Triamcinolone as I was worried about using it when it looked like there were still open wounds on it. I didn't finish my Doxy course because it was giving me horrible stomach pains. I came back to the dermatologist January 3rd and she told me it was OK to use Triamcinolone twice daily up to two weeks.
At this point I was already having eczema rash on my arms as well and some on my back but I don't think I was using Triamcinolone much on them (I'm pretty sporadic with using the steroid, I never really committed to the full 2 weeks)
Now, this is where things became a doozy.
January 5th: Caught strep, had difficulty breathing and had to go to urgent care. I was prescribed antibiotics, Prednisone (20mg, twice daily for 5 days), and Albuterol. I had asthma when I was younger and it's almost like it came back when I caught strep. My eczema was calm during this time and I thought it was because it rained a lot this week but now I realized it may be the Prednisone. Could not remember if I was using Triamcinolone as well on my hand during this time.
Sometime in early February: Went for a run and literally rolled my ankle so bad. Unrelated to everything else but my body sustained injury and looking back at old pictures I was starting to get patches of eczema on my legs.
Then I caught what felt like the flu in mid February and this is the first time my eczema flared to my face. My left eye was half swollen but at this time I thought it was from my sinus being blocked as it went away in a few days (though the rash stayed).
Early March: Got admitted to the hospital from Appendicitis. I spent 3 nights at the hospital and my eczema was literally non existent. No itchiness, just intense dryness but nothing else. I remember my friend noting my face was super dry but my rashes were slowly drying out. To be fair I was in so much pain the first day I was knocked out most the time from the pain medication they gave me and I was on a couple antibiotics due to the infection.
I came home from the hospital and this is when things start to really get insane. I got home, laid in bed, and immediately could not stop itching my neck and body. My face became swollen the next day but I was unable to take allergy meds because I was on antibiotics and had to wait for that course to be done. That eventually settled out.
I figured maybe I was having an allergic reaction to the cats (and thought maybe my mattress too, we had vacuumed it a few times and I suspected it disturbed the dust mites inside). I slept outside and on an air mattress for I think a few days, if not up to a week. The cats were still sleeping with me at this time and I was somewhat itchy but it wasn't the worst. Then I decided I was going to sleep in the bedroom again and this caused the worst flare I had ever ever EVER gone through. My face became so swollen, my left eye swollen again and it was oozing (this had NEVER happened to me before other than my infected hand) I don't know why this oozed since I never scratched my face, and my inner elbows, wrists and top of right hand got so red and puffy. At this point too my eczema on my right hand was starting to spread towards my palm. These areas also got pretty dry especially on my face. I called Teladoc Dermatology and they prescribed me Mupirocin for the oozing, Tacrolimus for the inflammation on my face and Triamcinolone for the body. He told me to apply Mupirocin first until the oozing calms, then stop and apply the other ointments.
At this point I had become SO SO SO terrified of TSW. It was all over my Tik Tok, my algorithm, I couldn't stop thinking and worrying about it and fearing that this flare is because I'm going through it. He told me to use Triamcinolone for twice daily for two weeks, then once daily for two weeks, then every other day for two weeks to help prevent rebound. I only used Triamcinolone twice daily for 5 days, then I did once daily for a few more days and by the time I saw my current dermatologist, I was using it every other day (I essentially tried to taper within the two weeks).
My current derma prescribed me Clobetasol and told me to mix 2oz of Clobetasol with 7.5oz of Vanicream or Cerave and smear myself in it once a day at night for one week, then once a day at night every other day for the second week. It was a very controlled instruction.
BUT I was SO afraid of TSW that I did not do this.
Instead, I took a one week break and I did 3 weeks of Triamcinolone, and even then I did it sporadically. I did about 10 days of once daily and then the second half I did twice daily. When I started doing twice daily was when I finally saw some improvements.
The problem is it has been a week since I last used any steroids and I have rebounded. Although my eczema rash genuinely looks so weird and I am having the dermatologist look at it properly today. My arms are constantly dry, my right hand (the problem spot since December) now have what looks like blisters on them and I never have eczema that look like this even though it's apparently common. The frustrating thing is that it feels like my eczema just keeps spreading. They are full body and it's freaking me out because it looks as if I have TSW even though I don't think I ever used steroids for that long at all, and I was only prescribed it back in 2020.
To be fair I thought I should've committed to the Clobetasol treatment because then we can see if the strongest steroid worked or not but I felt like I was going to flare again anyway and didn't want to use something really strong only for it to not work.
I had an allergy test done and I am allergic to both species of dust mites, dogs, cats, along with some other environmental things. I just don't understand why I am only now flaring uncontrollably like this. I am 95% covered in eczema. Either spots or just straight up long red rash. I am taking antihistamines daily and have been taking Probiotic pills pretty consistently (partly because I was on so many antibiotics back to back). I've been using Hyphocolorus Acid Spray as well.
On Sunday night, I tried to sleep over at my friend's place who did not have cats to test and see if my cats are my main trigger and I kept waking up itching myself, both my arms and legs and my chin and neck started oozing again. Which was INSANE as I did not itch either of them. The oozing on both have mostly stopped (I've only used Mupirocin and Vaseline to help control the infection and moisturize) but I just don't understand.
I'm scared, I have never had eczema become so severe so fast and I'm genuinely so scared. Something feels wrong but I don't know what it is. The way my eczema looks look like a combination of an allergic reaction and just a rash but I don't understand how I can have such an intense allergic reaction towards things I've been around all the time. We've lived in the same place since June of last year and the only thing I can think of is that we had the heater on almost daily in the winter and we found out end of April that our heater is incredibly dusty.
I'm getting my IUD removed next week as well as I'm confident birth control has something to do with my eczema coming back, and I plan to get allergy shots.
I'm just tired, it's consumed my life and it's causing me a lot of health anxiety. I look so genuinely terrible I can't even understand it.

So the cause of my ptsd is my mother. She terrified me as a child. She completely broke me down up until I was 13. I them moved with my grandma and had to see the school social worker, the school therapist, and I also had a therapist and psychiatrist outside of school. I had an iep and my high school made me transfer to a school for children with mental health issues due to the mental illness I dealt with living with her. I was only 14 and it was still my freshman year.
I dealth with severe night terrors for years after my mom left. Each time it ended the same and they were about her. I was depressed, anxious, and I didn't do great in school because my mind was just so scrambled from everything. I am very hyper vigilant and very scared of my surroundings. My mom moved back to our hometown 6 years ago and I moved away because I was terrified to see her somewhere.
Recently, my brother gave me a letter that my mom had written claiming that she was in therapy and on meds and she changed. I believed her and we've been talking. I haven't been able to sleep since. The dreams are back. I am becoming depressed and anxious. I feel so terrified and on edge in a completely different city. I don't think I can do this, but she's being so "nice" so I feel guilty blocking her. I'm crumbling again.

I am looking for someone fun (age 25 min) to be friends and eventually grow close to over time. Someone who I can spend a lot of time with doing the following things on a daily basis:
-spam games (PC only): league (arams (big plus if you aram!)/tft/norms), destiny 2, last epoch, crab champions, pico park, fall guys, gunfire reborn, risk of rain 2, super animal royale, golf with friends, terraria, escape simulator, it takes two, minecraft, diablo 3, etc (happy to play other games if they seem fun). - Please, please play league and destiny 2 and carry me <3
-chill on discord when bored (we can do our own things - its completely fine or we can stream games for eachother). At the end of the day, we can wind down together until we go to sleep. If you have a nice voice, that's a huge plus!
-watch anime/movies/youtube videos/tv shows (I'll watch anything but horror - no scary pls lol)
-share/listen to music (ideally, we'd play some music as background while gaming. we could also share/trade music - i like doing this too) My taste in music: 80s, 90s, rock, alternative, pop, dance, electro, mix of everything else. Music I don't prefer: jazz, blues, most rap, most country.
-If you WFH (like myself) it would be great if we could keep each other company during the work days.
-winding down the nights together before we go to sleep and being a safe space for each other is super important to me.
Please reply with a bit about you and what games you have in common (at least 2 games in common)
Please have a sense of humor.
Please be willing to talk/put in effort into a conversation.
I prefer someone who wants to be close and look for something more down the line. Someone who likes clingyness and is a bit possessive is a plus.
Summary: I am looking for a consistent/meaninfuly/genuine friendship. Someone who becomes my go-to friend/gamer person and I become theirs. If this leads to something more down the line, that's fine but it's not a must have.
Based on the replies I got on the last post, it seems I have to set some basic human and personal standards:
-No married or taken guys - I do not mess with other people's relationships and I wouldnt want anyone to mess with mine. I have more respect that than - if you're not happy in your relationship, please talk it out with your s/o or seek help! I'm not your answer.
-PC Only!! Please don't message me if you don't even own a PC. This is straight forward.
-Please have a normal sense of your life together - working/can put in effort, know what you want in life, mostly positive attitude -- if you've been at home for 10+ years because you have anxiety and this affects the fact you cannot be on discord with me while we game because it causes you more stress, I'm not the person for you!!
-If you reply with just a Hey/Hello and nothing else, I'm not replying. This post has effort, you put in effort. You can send me angry messages all you want for not responding. This will not change the fact that if 0 or minimum effort was made as an introduction, I'm not responding.
-If you are below 25 and looking for a 'Mommy' type, I cannot help you. Please look elsewhere.
Best of luck!

Does anybody knows good subliminals so my brother stop fucking acting like a staight up jackass??
I'm personally sooo done with his behavior. He treats my mom soo bad; when you call him out on something wrong he did, he will bring you any excuse possible then change the topic of discussion so you forget about what he did wrong and my poor mom always falls for this manipulative shit.
He doesn't listen to anybody then he always get hisself in trouble but somehow it's never his fault.
On top of that, I had some anger issues in the past (that i'm now way better at controlling) but he always tries to say something that will make me mad (like racist, misoginistic, homophobic, etc...) so he can then blame me and tell my mom that i'm being rude to him.
I go to therapy for my anger issues but with his behavior, it triggers me soo much, that is making my arger issues even worst.
At this point, when i come back home everyday at 8 pm super fucking tired after studying the whole day; I don't even feel relif or relaxed, i feel disgusted and even more tired.
It's like i live in a house not a home, i don't feel emotionally safe in my house
because i know that this bitch will emotionally draining me. I literally will rather sleep in the fucking library than going back home.
So if anybody has a good sub that could help me and also if anybody has gotten result of any siblings sub; i will appreciate if you let me know
thanks and good bye <3 <3

I had a wonderful childhood. I couldn't have asked for a better one. My parents, brother, family, ... so much love in my life.
As I got older, I started to become exposed to the harsh realities of life. The people closest to me and the ones I loved the most started to get sick and pass away. I lost my dog. Life wasnt the same. And later, was diagnosed with Crohns which had a massive impact on my life and self confidence. I felt like a lab rat.. so many tests, doctor visits, medicine, diets, needles, ... eventually extensive surgery.
Luckily, after years of torture, I made it out ok. I started to build back my confidence, and was optimistic about the future. Before I knew it, I met the love of my life. I felt so extremely lucky to have you in my life. It felt like a dream. I felt that after all that pain and loss, I had finally had something good happen to me.
As time we on, we became best friends. You confessed your love to me, said I was different than all the rest, and you saw a future with me. You expressed how special I was to you. I felt the same way.
We met eachothers families, who became so close with eachother. I truly loved your family, they felt like home. My family loved you so much... my parents loved you like a daughter, and I knew you loved them too. We had everyone's support and love. We were the golden couple. We grew and experiences so much together. Bought our first house, saw the world, new jobs, school, ... Everyone was so proud of us, and we were proud of eachother.
Somewhere along the way, you started seeking outside the relationship for attention. I knew you were very social, so at first, I was happy to see you making friends. I knew you had a difficult childhood and past, and didn't have many good friends, so I was very supportive and encouraged you to do things with your friends.
We were inseparable. Always going things together, planning trips, going on adventures. Everything was easy. We enjoyed eachothers company so much. We made eachother laugh, feel loved, and safe. We were so comfortable and open, goofy with eachother, and always so intimate.
We shared a lot of the same hobbies: plants/garden, camping, trails, video games, movies, travel, outdoors, relaxing at home, ... it didn't seem to matter what we were doing, we were happy together.
I loved making you smile and laugh. I loved seeing you happy doing what you loved, or eating a meal I'd prepare for you.
I always wanted you to have the best. Since you were in school, I provided for you. Food, toys, restaurants, trips, ... whatever you wanted. I wanted to give you the world. It felt so good to make you happy.
You would tease me and hint towards wanting to get engaged. After 3 years, it happened. We were so happy, and you were so excited and happy to share the big news. We started planning our wedding, moved into a bigger house, new jobs, everything felt good.
I never expected to love someone so much. This young woman brought so much love, happiness, and adventure into my life. She completed changed everything. Everything was so easy.. effortless.. felt right.
When we moved into your dream home, things became more stressful. The house needed a lot of work, as well as the property. Regardless, we were willing and eager to tackle projects together and were excited to make things our own.
As time went on, and school/work seemed to become more stressful for you, I was left finishing a lot of our projects and maintaining them by myself. I also stepped up and started trying to take on more of the chores and responsibilities so that you could focus on school/work and still have time to relax. I was happy to help give you some relief.
After a few months, your brother asked to be our roommate for a time. I was hesitant, but you encouraged me that it would be a good thing. He would pay and help around the house. At first, it was nice. However, as time we on, it became more and more stressful.
The stress of doing everything and having a roommate that didn't mesh well with us overwhelmed me. I knew it was temporary, so I endured it.
One day, you came home from your new job and expressed what a good day you had.. that you had the chance to work with a different doctor, and that he was very fun and nice. I was so happy to hear it, since I knew you hadn't been having good days and people had been difficult. I was glad you seemed to have a mentor.
You started to have more good days than bad, working with this person more and more. You started talking to me about them more, sharing things you learned and talked with him about. As time went on, I started to feel a bit jealous. You had been spending more time with this person than me... your shifts were long, and I hadn't been seeing you as much. You started even talking to our parents about this person.
I started to notice you texting him while we were at home together. I'd ask, and you'd happily share whatever it was you guys were talking about. One evening, you were texting this doctor late at night. I approached you about this, and expressed how it was making me feel. I felt that it had started to become too much, and wasn't appropriate. I didn't like the idea of this older married man communicating with my young fiance so much. I expressed that I was happy that you had a friend at work, but felt that it was becoming too personal and inappropriate. You tried to reassure me that you were just friends, and that he was old and married, you would never be attracted to him. I stood firm and expressed that I would like for you to only communicate while at work, or for work related matters. You agreed and assured me it was nothing.
As time went on, I noticed you would sometimes hide your phone, turn it away, flip it upside down, or turn it off as I walked by. At first, I thought it was just me being paranoid. But as time went on, it started to mess with my head... otherwise, everything was good, so I told myself it was nothing. You started to enjoy that type of work and decided to join his practice. I was happy you were able to make up your mind and find something you enjoyed. Time went on. At some point, you needed an invasive procedure done... and you requested that doctor complete it. I didn't love the idea, but you preferred to have someone do it that you trusted. After that, the doctor seemed to be a thing of the past.
As the wedding date approached, the excitement increased. We had everything planned out and we were so excited for our big day. I saw how happy you were throughout the whole process. I couldn't believe our big day was right around the corner.
Our wedding was like a dream. Everything came together so nicely. We had the best night of our lives. I loved seeing you so happy with our friends and family there to celebrate with us. We went on a wonderful honeymoon and I felt so loved and appreciated.
Once we returned home, our roommate left, and stress started to decrease dramatically in the house. I was so relieved. You finished school, graduated, and I threw you a big surprise party to celebrate. I had always put together parties for all your special occasions, and I knew you really appreciated that. After so many nights helping you study, it felt wonderful to see you walk across that stage and finally finish.
You shortly after moved to a different hospital, and seemed to really like your new job and everyone there. Life was so good...
The house and our list of responsibilities and all the maintenance was still a lot, but I felt we were quickly starting to knock things off our list.
One week, you started working a lot... I hardly saw you that week. We'd always text and check in, saying we loved eachother, missed eachother, and looked forward to seeing eachother. When the weekend finally arrived, you had mentioned your best friend invited you to join her for girl time. I realized you hadn't seen her much lately and encouraged it.
That weekend, my grandmother had been struggling. I felt alone in our big house and had wished you were there. We checked in on eachother while you were gone. I was expecting you to return one evening, so I had dinner prepared. I was hurt when you didn't arrive and decided to stay another night with your friend.
When I saw you the next morning, I was feeling pretty down. I was already sad about my grandmother, but also felt like an after thought that week. You were so happy to see me, which was nice. We had a nice evening, spent time together, .. you never stopped telling me you loved me.
The next day after work, I got home, and you seemed so cold and distant. You seemed bothered by something. I checked in, asked if you needed anything, then went about my day. It seemed like you wanted space. I checked in every few hours, and you were busy doing something on your laptop.
I prepared dinner and started watching TV. I encouraged you to take a break, eat, and relax some before bed. You joined me on the couch, but was quiet and explained that you had some work to finish.
As it got late, I went up to bed. You explained you'd be up a little longer while you finished your work. As the hours went by, I thought it was so odd that you weren't in bed yet. I knew you had to get up early... sleep was always such a priority. I got up to check on you and to get some water. You were still on your laptop.. I noticed you were looking at rooms to something. I encouraged you to get some sleep. You joined me, looking exhausted.
We cuddled, said we loved eachother, then fell asleep. The next morning, I finished getting ready for work while you slept. As I was getting ready to leave, I sae your laptop. I decided to check and see what you were looking at... another air bnb for a trip? I was curious. We shared the laptop, so I didn't feel like I was invading her privacy.
I opened the laptop and saw apartments. I was so confused. I checker her email.. apartments. I noticed she had Facebook messenger up with recent messages. I checked... my world turned upside down. Those seconds felt like eternity as my heart sounded and my stomach sank. I read a message to a friend saying she wanted a divorce, never loved me, felt like a stranger in her house, dreaded coming home to me, ... that she loved a doctor.. he's married, but his wife is a lesbian. That was easily the worst moment of my life. I panicked and didn't know what to do... I was in shock. After a few minutes, I decided to address this with you.
I quietly walked up the stairs, sat on the edge of the bed, and calmly woke you up. You were sleepy, asking why I woke up.. you still had about 30m before work. I apologized for waking you.. As I looked at you silently, I started to cry. I quietly said "I know...". "I saw the messages". She looked back at me in shock.. eyes wide in the dark. I asked if she had been having an affair. She said no.. then started to look at me as if I wad a stranger. It was a terrible feeling.
You got up to get ready for work, and said we'd talk later that evening. You left. I was standing in the driveway and felt sick. I wasn't sure if I could make it to work.. but being at the house was making me feel worse, so I left. I didn't eat anything that while day. While at work, I prepared myself for our talk.
When we both got home, you pulled up to the house and started to pack some things while I sat on the couch. When you finally joined me, you were quiet.. asked about my day, I asked about yours.. then more silence. I asked what you needed from me. You explained that you were feeling very anxious, and didn't want me to get upset. You said you were going to stay with a friend for a few days to clear your head and wanted to talk once we were both rested.
You left for almost a week while I stayed in our big empty house, taking care of our pets, and completely confused and dead inside. I hardly ate or slept. I desperately started reading and watching whatever information I could find to help explain what was happening and to prepare myself. I spent most of my time thinking, reflecting on our life. I started tonrealize how stressed I had been... and thought about all the things I should/could have done differently. I knew I treated her so well, but no one is perfect.
Looking back, I started to think about all the red flags. Love is blind. I truly loved, trusted, and cared for this person more than anyone in the world. I thought she felt the same way... I never imagined us seperating.
I started to think of that doctor she used to talk about.. and realized she probably never stopped talking to him. I started to realize that my wife had stopped opening up to me... was no longer emotional or vulnerable... her emotional? affair started to kill the emotional intimacy between us.
I was happy just to have her in my life and enjoyed just being with her... she never expressed or talked about being unhappy... if I had known, I feel certain that we could have fixed whatever was lacking. I would have met whichever needs werent being met.
Were you lonely while I was busy working hard for us? Was she bored? I would have happily planned more outings... whenever I suggested something, you expressed that you were tired or didn't show interest. I knew you enjoyed time alone, so I never felt bad doing my own thing. I figured you would tell me of you needed or felt something...
I was so confused... started to question what was real. When did this all start? Why? How? Terrible thoughts entered my mind... so many late shifts, staying the night at the hospital, leaving early to get the air bnbs ready, ...
I also realized that towards the end, you had suddenly started to listen to different music, got a nose piercing, tattoo, talked about signing up for a sport, working out, ... these were all things I knew you had wanted to do for awhile, but it was all so sudden.
Why didn't you ever communicate... I recall you expressing your concern with my stress, but nothing else. I felt that my stress was reasonable considering everything I was doing.. and knew it was temporary. I didn't ignore it though. I saw a therapist, and started making changes. Was it all too late?
When we finally spoke again, it was so nice to just see you. We sat and you were so friendly and sweet - it reassured me that everything was going to be ok. We made small talk and joked, which immediately lightened the mood. You suggested I spoke first. I expressed my feelings and how important the marriage was.. that I'd so anything to save it. I took responsibility for my side of things and expressed the changes I had made and would continue to make. When you started, you expressed that you would always cherish our time together, but we're set on divorce. That we both deserved to be truly happy. Shortly after, you left.
The days after, you started packing your things while I was at work. I was living in a big empty house, every day getting more and more empty. I was a complete mess living in hell. Her family started to reach out to me and shower me with support, apologies, and disbelief. No one could make sense of this.
After a week or so, I couldn't take it any more, so I moved to stay with my parents while we finished moving out. I attempted to stay cordile through all this. You seemed so unphased and happy... texting me and talking to me like we were still best friends.
You explained that you felt bad for saying you never loved me... that you did, but not in the way a wife should love their husband. That it could be years, but in the future, I could count on you.
As time went on, and the pain increased, I was more distant. You texted more and more. Finally, I suggested that we limit communication unless she was interested in working on our marriage.
As the days went by, you grew colder and irritated.. I started to feel like the bad guy. I know you started to feel the weight of your decisons, and starred to project onto me. Making me the bad guy made you feel better. I attempted to end things on a good note... being helpful throughout the move out process, but you were so cold. It hurt so much... 5 wonderful years tossed aside like it never mattered.
I havent talked to you in weeks... I miss my best friend, my love, your family, our pets, and the wonderful life we built. I'm left trying to pickup the pieces. I feel so lost, confused, broken, ...
The tremendous amount of support I've gotten from both sides has helped a lot. I'm seeing a therapist, reading a lot, eating more, working out, and focusing on my self. The days are getting better, but I still have days where I am a mess.
I havent been sleeping well... always tired. Waking up several times, terrible nightmares and thoughts of you being with another man... I still have believe you would be capable of all this.. of hurting me so much.
I have urges to reach out to you... wanting to fix this, that there must be a misunderstanding... there are so many things I'd like to say. I got complacent and comfortable during our time together. I stopped doing the little things as often as I used to... I never meant to hurt you, make you feel lonely, unloved, unappreciated, ... whatever it is you felt. It's difficult for me to accept that my sweet innocent wife was capable of this... surely there was a reason?? I was just so caught up in my list of things... I was working so hard for our future.
I feel like my wife was manipulated by this man... why does an older doctor (20 years older) have a lesbian wife? He doesn't love her like she seems to think... he is using her. I feel sorry for her... I know there is no future there.
I've done a lot of reading on Attachment Styles, Limerence, love addiction, and other things that come as a result of childhood trauma. I feel like a lot of this has to do with her trauma... but also her selfishness and emotional immaturity. There is nothing I can do. I just pray she figures things out on her own, finds longlasting happiness, and puts an end to this cycle.
I would love it if we were able to reconnect in the future... I still deeply love and care for her. I don't want our story to end... none of this feels right. My gut is screaming that this is all wrong. I just know we both need to work on ourselves for the time being.
One day I had it all, the next, it crashed down before my eyes. Meeting you was the best thing to happen to me... you leaving was the worst. You rushed out of my life so quickly... I wish things were different.

My son turned 3 a few days ago. He goes to a montessori nursery and he absolutely loves it. We moved to a new country just a few months ago and When I moved here, a lot of moms told me to get a head start on putting him in "big schools". So I randomly applied to a lot of schools, Including the best school(let's call it little Oxford) in the city. They immediately emailed me back and said they had no vacancy. I shrugged it off and said OK.
My son is wicked smart. He attended assessments for pre-kindergarten in a couple of schools and absolutely nailed it. A few weeks later, I get an email inviting him to an assessment at little Oxford. I was confused but went ahead with the assessment. He passed with flying colors and he got in. My friends and family were literally jumping with joy because it's very hard to get into and a lot of them tried really hard to get into it but they couldn't.
You know why it's hard to get into? It's because they are racist. They give preference to Caucasians. They might extend it to just Americans at best. They are snobby. They are very exclusive. We are not white. We just moved here. I literally lost sleep at night imagining him attending that school. I told my family that I was having second thoughts and they were so angry that I was depriving my son.
I feel that having him in nursery for 1 more year will help him thrive and he can go into pre-kindergarten one year late as my son will probably not sit for play based or classroom learning. He is doing amazing at the montessori. He's barely 3 and he does basic math and starting to read and they are so supportive. I felt that this was the right thing to do. His teacher said he might not get into this particular school next year but for sure he can get into many of the other good schools.
Now I'm being guilted heavily for depriving my son from attending the most highly rated school out there. I don't think it's the end of the world if my son is the oldest in his class next year at pre-kindergarten but I can't let him be the only person of colour in the entire school. It honestly scares me like crazy.

TL;DR question: Hey, has anyone successfully leveraged a doctor’s note for an employer’s allowance on remote work? Anything they can share? Looking for pros and cons in experience.
Context: My epileptologist lives in NY (my home state). I’ve lived in TX through my epilepsy journey for about 2yrs+. My current job made me move here because my team is a hybrid role.
I love my job. I love the company I work for. I love my team. Im making decent money.
I want to move home. I’m epileptic and live alone. I take tremendous care of myself, but the loneliness has been a killer. I also have to frequently make trips to see my epileptologist. Epileptologists are almost a rare kind of neurologist to find and where I am in TX, it isn’t feasible for me to find one. UT Health system has neuros who somewhat specialize with epilepsy which I have seen. Working with “what I have” is fine. However, they aren’t overly familiar with reading EEGs is what Ive been told. These neuros have also stated themselves that epileptologists are not truly easy to find at all in the state of TX + with the population being highly dense and super unhealthy, their system is heavily clogged.
But I’m lonely. Depressed. My gf dumped me in January due to distance (plus other issues), and as a result I have suffered 2 seizures since - breaking a streak of a yr + change without a seizure. I live in a state where driving is needed 90% of the time. My specialist in NY is top notch. Recently my mom went into the hospital for approximately a week due to heart troubles. She and my dad are both 73 and they are deathly afraid of dying without anything set up for their kin. They run a business that has helped us all through life and support my return home to be closer to them as they age, for me to be around should shit hit the fan with me, and so that I can understand the basics more fluently in running their business. Therapy has been helpful, but not
Regarding what Id say to my doctor, I’d state that “I have to fly in often for our visits which raises expenses; I am alone and fearful of seizures without a support circle; I cannot risk losing my license in TX whereas in NY i have very strong public transportation options; I am lonely and my therapist has indicated I am suffering from depression….my mood in NY is dramatically improved due to the support circles I’ve cultivated there most of my life whereas in TX, my mood lately has dropped and spiraled into depressive loopholes. All of such I worry is creating stress and affecting my ability to sleep (due to stress)….these are the most common triggers for me.”
When it comes to the severity of my issue, I am classified as a generalized epileptic currently on 300mg Lamotrigine and have generally controlled my seizures. EEG readings used to read 7sec long abnormalities without medicine throughout the day. Such have been reduced mainly to 1-3sec abnormalities - a significant improvement. Doctor is proud of my hard work around my direct medicinal treatment (diet, cadence of meds, general positive dedication to self-care like adherence to sleeping regularly when I can, exercising often, combatting mental hurdles with coping skills).
Thoughts on requesting a note to have in back-pocket for when I open the conversation with work on remote options/remote teams given my circumstances? Looking for any advice, general success and failure stories, and what to look out for.

As the title suggests, I'm kinda fed up with my parents. They seriously need therapy.
I'll start with my mom. She's actually really selfish. Since childhood, I was never allowed to go out and play with other kids. She says that I am allergic to dust and that she'll have to clean my clothes which are full of dust. I ignored her and played out few times but eventually gave in. I got immersed in mobile and the internet. I was never let alone to go out and explore like my neighbour kids. They used to hang out the entire day and ride their bicycle across the neighbourhood and to town. She restricted me to ride the cycle within my house premises. Then she never allows or gives me privacy. She always intrudes me while I'm bathing, changing clothes etc. The main reason is she treats me like a child. She tells me to do this, do that, wear this dress. That's not a big issue as far as I'm concerned. But whenever I tell her Im going outside, she takes the clothes including my inner wear from the cupboard even though I tell her I can do it myself. I think she has some disorder that makes her think she will lose authority of the house and authority over me if I start being independent. She loves when I ask her for help. And she advices me for 10-15 mins if I do the same. She does not allow me to iron my own clothes, enter the kitchen and do the dishes, prepare tea or anything that makes me independent. When I was installing my PC in my room, she interfered and said that the PC should be installed in the hall because apparently the Internet cable will have to be longer. I still don't understand that. I think she does not want me to have privacy. She also doesn't like when I lock my doors. So basically she made me a useless, dependant, introvert kid. I have done several attempts during childhood to break away from her control. I even went out to play with kids for 1 week when I was 11 or 12 but apparently my brother got injured when another kid accidentally rode the bike over his leg which was a minor case. She held on to it and permanently banned me from going outside. Whenever guests come to the house, she gets out from the back of the house and talks and deals with them outside the house itself. She rarely let's guests in. She hates when I say I'm inviting a friend to the house. She reasons with me that "The house will have dust and dirt if he comes to the house". Also, whenever we come home, she forces me to scrub the legs hard for the dirt or something to come off and wash our legs with soap before entering the house. WTF logic is that? We are going to bath anyways so why do that? Because of that she installed a outdoor bathroom/shower which is a small cube like thing outside our house. Also, she doesn't allow me to shift table fans, tables or anything from one place to another. My dad once did so and she screamed and shouted and she slammed her head in the wall herself as if in a sign of protest(I felt really bad and ashamed that day). My room actually has an AC which I don't want to turn on during racing season but she stops me from turning on the fan during that time and forces me to sleep with AC on. She's saying that when fan turns on, there will be dust in the room. I'm really stuck now. I can't go out, can't move things in my own room, I can't invite friends, My relatives and cousins don't come to my home because my mother will not let them in. Whenever I see my relatives and cousins they ask me "Why are you not going out of the house or letting us into your house?". I don't have an answer and it destroys my self confidence. I told her a lot of times to see a doctor but she psychiatrist but she won't. Whenever I'm in school hostel, I feel like it is the real me. I joke around, have fun, talk a lot but when I'm at home, I feel like a different person. I don't feel comfortable laughing, joking or going outside. The main reason is her. My MOM. I still get nightmares thinking if my friend asks to come to my home. I get real anxiety if they come to my home. I fear that they might dislike my mom's outrageous behaviour. Also I fear they will dislike me because I do not go out of the house and be independent. I fear that they will know that I do not have friends outside my school Circle (which the main reason is my mom). She also occassionally swears at me. Calls me bad words and curses at my dad. My biggest dream now is to escape this hellhole of a home and live in some hostel or room.
Now my dad. He is the biggest gambler ever. Not literally but I'll explain. He was born in a poor farmer family but he did a diploma and started working in Dubai. He earned a good amount every month and he built our house. But he got his biggest opportunity in Oman where he was offered ₹1.25L/month salary + Free apartment + Free transport + Free food + Subsidised School for me. He took the offer and we moved there. But after 1 year, he did a dumb thing. He took a loan of ₹50L and started a hotel business without even having any business experience. He employed 10-15 people before the business even started. The business was a huge failure and he lost the money. Meanwhile his company also found this out and kicked him out. I studied 1 year there in a good school but had to leave because of him. He lost ₹50L + Our livelihood in Oman. We came back to India and he got another job in UAE paying ₹2L/month but quit that too because his boss was upset at him at work. Then he got another job in Kazakhstan paying ₹3L/month but quit that too because of his laziness. He always believed he is born to do business. He kept saying he will because a multi-millionare within a year. He kept quitting jobs and now he worked in India itself for ₹30k/month. He then started a milk business which failed and he lost ₹1L. Now he started another Tyre business which is now running at loss. He also has a habit of spending money aimlessly. He buys random expensive clothes, shoes, phones, TV, Expensive chairs etc. He lost all his money on all of these. He does not have a sense of fear over financial ruin. He is now telling me that he'll sell our inherited land and buy a Innova Crysta. I have no words.
The only way we still are not bankrupt is my mothers small rental unit that gives us ₹20-30k/month. There is a lot more to say about my relatives. But that's whole another lesson. Any advice on what I should do? I have done everything in my power to make them right.
(Sorry for rant. Didn't intend this to be so long)
TLDR : My parents are insufferable. What can I do to fix it?
(I just passed out of school, so moving out is not an option. I'm also repeating for JEE near my house)

I want to physically vomit. Im thinking about how much of an asshole my ex (29m) that I broke up with is.
He would pick everything about my face and tell me to get lip filler, nose job, boob job.. he was no calvin klein model and I never said anything about his looks. Prior to that moment, I was feeling happy and relaxed laying in bed and spending time with my bf..
Told me to grow an ass throughout the entire 5 years.
He took a screenshot of me and put it next to a pig.
He always yelled at me when I communicated an issue I had and then said "you win" like he thought I wanted it to be a competition. How was I winning when Im left crying?
He hid me from his friends because he thought they would judge me.. so I nver got meet his friends or go to any of their group trips/parties (he went alone)
He rather go to raves and do drugs than have me tag alone because he thinks I had to be babysat.
I always asked for hangouts.. he never once asked to or called me to.
When he got a job interview in detroit, he never hesitated to travel there. When we were long distance, he made excuses that my city was small and boring.. as if the point wasnt to visit me..
He lied to his mom about staying over a friend's house when he was with me, and said he bought himself the tshirts I gifted him..
Called me a jew but he was too cheap to buy me $10 grocery flowers.
I always ran back and he never even. Said he cares about me but he can sleep peacefully at night after a fight while I cry myself to sleep. I always told hom dont make the other obe go to sleep upset but he doesnt listen. What a total bullshitter. Wish I never gave him a chance. Hope he lives a miserable life. I dont care if anyone thinks I'm toxic for not wanting him to have a good life but he fucken deserves it. I was nothing but nice and when I tried to communicate, he turned it around and make it all about himself. Like you could have communicated to me if you had an issue.. now when I have an issue you make it about yourself? He really makes persian guys look bad.

I am at my wits end with my husband's mother. We have always had her trying to dictate how we live, down to how many animals we should have. All the way to needing a new venue for our wedding because it wasn't enough space for their entire family and "where would her family sit" (this was during covid and no they didn't pay for it.)
Well, we now have a 11 week old, and it has been a nightmare. She got mad the one day she was (3 weeks into parenting) showing my husband the "proper" way to change a diaper, and I just up and walked away because we survived 3 weeks already changing diapers without her. She got mad because I walked out of the room. I also have 5 nieces and nephews I changed more recent than 31 years ago she changed a diaper. She knew we were going with pampers diapers, bought up huggies and then was insulted when we suggested returning and get what we use. So we tried them and he peed through multiple and started breaking out from them. Did that just to appease her. This is just a short list of the many ways she's tried to invade her way into acting like she's our little ones parent.
Yesterday, my husband send her some videos of our little one awake and making sounds. He called to see if she watched them, she said no and started crying. Said we make her feel unwelcome because any time she is over now he is asleep and I won't let her hold him but she did before. The previous time, he fell asleep on her. The last time she was here, he fell asleep 10 minutes before they showed up and threw a fit because "HE SAID HE WAS AWAKE!" We also went out to dinner and he was asleep in his carseat and she continued to tell me to get him out, which I said no he's fine and asleep. She has offered to come sit with him if I need to get stuff done, but then went out about how I didn't come out when they were over the one day. I have a small business which includes fumes my little one cannot be around, so my husband had him prior to them coming over and I just got stuff done while he was distracted and they decided to stop by.
Now, before anyone says let them hold him even if he's asleep. No, my husband and I cannot even pass him between the two of us without him starting to scream. I have a velcro baby and while he does not mind people when he's awake, he sleep on me or my husband for his naps unless I'm lucky enough to get him to fall asleep beside me. We do not move him until he's either napped long enough or wakes up.
My husband's one friend gave him advice, my husband told him pretty much everything she's been doing. His friend suggested setting boundaries, and then said if she does not respect it to cut all ties due to the lack of respect. Which I told my husband I agree, because in reality if my own mother was acting like this I would have lost it on her and only haven't because it was his mother. But I would not force him to continue to deal with my mom if she was acting that way. He invited them over today to see him, and I told him I would be showering or just making sure that I am not here. He asked me to stay and at least say hi, I told him no because if I do I would walk out from my office and literally say "wanted to say hi so I didn't offend anyone" and walk away. I told him I'm not rewarding her bad behavior like he is doing with inviting them over. We have a infant, he sleeps when he wants, no one should be throwing a hissyfit over him taking a nap
TLDR she's currently mad that I let my baby continue to sleep when they showed up to visit. Was mad I did not allow her to hold my LO who screams when he's moved when asleep. Said I am unwelcoming, although she offered to come sit alone with LO while I get work done. But, got mad when I did just that when she stopped to visit.

Hi, This is my first time posting, but I have been reading a lot of posts in this group. I recently picked up my 8 week old Australian shepherd puppy. I have had her almost a week now and let me tell you, it has been miserable. She has been amazing, nothing with her that I hate, or has been difficult. The first two nights she got up twice throughout the night, and the last few days she's been sleeping almost all night until, 6 am. She's settled in well, she's eating and drinking , she does have accidents, but to be expected.
I'm in my early 20s, I have a long history of anxiety and depression, and have been struggling with depression/ anxiety since the beginning of the new year. In and out of jobs due to panic attacks and horrible anxiety. In March I had to say goodbye to my childhood dog of 14 years, and it mentally almost killed me. We said goodbye in our home, with family and our other two dogs around. It took me a long time to be okay, I dreaded coming home at any time of day because I knew she wasn't here, I avoided parts of the house where she was all the time because of the memory of her being there. It took me two weeks before I could remove her crate and blankets and toys from my room, everything was left just like it was when she passed, and even after rearranging everything, I still find it hard to be in there. I was so lonely and even though we still had our other two older dogs, I felt so alone. The depression and anxiety already struggling, on top of loosing my best friend was the worst I've ever been in my life, and I have lost so many loved ones in my life in the past 5 years, this has been the hardest goodbye. In April a family friend had a litter of Australian Shepherd puppies, I have also admired them and always thought when my dog passed I would get a blue merle female. The family happened to have blue merles and only one of them was female, it felt like a sign. I reached out to learn more about them, get the details of how old, how much, and when they would be ready, etc. The family had told me that there was a lot of people interested in her and that she would like to know sooner if I wanted her. I took a day to think it over and I said yes I did want to move forth with getting her. I was so excited and couldn't wait to get her, I had everything ready and set up, until the day we got her. Once we got her I cried the whole way home, it was a 4 hour drive. I thought I was just overwhelmed in her and was just nervous and it would be over after spending a day or so with her, but it hasn't gotten better.
I'm not overwhelmed with the fact that she's a puppy, I know that and I understand that, Like I said we've had all of our dogs since they were puppies and our oldest is 15 and youngest 13. Its been a long time since a puppy was around but I'm not afraid of taking care of her. Since she's been here I haven't been eating, been very nausea ,crying literally all day, not sleeping and its not because she's not sleeping, I'm constantly worried. My anxiety and depression has been worse than it ever has, in just the week she's been here. I thought after a day or two I would get better, and we would start to bond especially with how well she's settled in, but she's doing great and I'm doing horrible. I truly do not know what it is that is making me feel this way, but I know a change in routine has been an big issue. I'm scared that I didn't think this through like I should've but I had to make a decision fast, and after that I was so excited, and then she gets here and its been hell mentally.
I feel like an utter failure. My mom even told me that with everything else going on in our lives, and the way I act around the puppy that I don't truly want her. I've tried to make a connection and I know its only been a week, but I can't keep living like this mentally. I thought bringing her into my life would give me something to look forward too, and give me a reason to want to go home, but now when I'm out I dread going home. I think I did this too soon after loosing my dog, and with everything else going on i thought I could handle it, but I'm in a loosing battle.
I never knew about puppy blues until after we got her and I did research on these feelings. Everyone says it will get better, but has anyone experienced anything similar. My mom thinks we need to rehome home her for her sake and mine, and being that she's young she would be able to adjust and someone would love her like I couldn't. I'm at a loss and just wanted to see if anyone else has felt this, and what you have done. I've never once gotten rid of a pet, but when she said about rehoming her I can't say I was begging her not to.
thank you in advanced for any tips or insight on your personal experiences.

I'm having surgery done tomorrow and I wanted to check with my mom that I'm not allergic to the medicine I'm taking. The medicine could cause anaphylaxis which is one of the major side effects. I know I'm not likely to get that reaction, but I don't know if I will because I'm unsure if I have taken it as a child or not. I would just like reassurance that I will be okay if I take it. Also, if I do take it and have that reaction, I live in a small city where uber drivers can take 10+ mins to arrive, so I will probably be SOL. My thought was to check with my mom but when I called she immediately said "I will call you back, I'm in the store". I asked her to stay for a few seconds to answer my question and she said "Hurry up!" Immediately I felt the tears coming and I kinda gave up. I asked her the question but she says I have to find out elsewhere. What does that even mean? My appointment is tomorrow. I have to start the medicine today. She knows this. I told her yesterday, but oh wait, she also partially fell asleep while talking to me so maybe she didn't hear me. Am I really that boring??
I mean, man, this medicine could possibly kill me and she can't be bothered to have the time to talk to me about it. What the fuck? I feel like crying. I hate feeling like such a bother to her. Whatever happens, happens I guess. I don't care if the medicine could cause a negative side effect anymore. I'm tired of fighting to stay alive. I'm tired of wanting others to care about me. My mother, the person who is supposed to love and care for me the most, doesn't have time for me when I'm in need. Perfect. 🙃

Last night was a crazy ensemble of mystery, magic, lively characters, pure luxury high class dreaming, attention to detail you normally only see in the fanciest of places! And it all started very normal. Let's dive into the dream space!
I am standing on a platform at train station Haarlem Centraal, Netherlands. Trains came and went. When I look around, I see people standing, waiting to catch the next train. Looking up, a digital sign said: “Groningen”. The next train went to Groningen, it actually sounds pretty nice, so I wanted to go there.
As I'm reaching into my left pocket, I notice I have my phone with me. I turned it on, and it was open on the Contacts app. On the top of the list, there was a peculiar person I never heard of before: Ben. I decided to give Ben a call.
A robotic voice made itself audible on the speaker. The robotic voice said: “Hi, I'm Ben! A dream AI. I can change any dream for you just the way you like it.”
“Anything?”, I ask. “We do anything for our customers. Your deepest desires, your wildest wishes and your greatest adventures come true. With Ben, you are 100% in control”.
Eager to test that theory, realizing as I was getting lucid — I'm not just anybody! I'm not going to stand here and wait for public transport like normal citizens do! I want a private train!
And so I speak my wishes in a clear English voice to Ben on my phone. No reply. Ben wasn't saying a word.
But something is changing… Looking up at the sign, it starts to flicker, as if someone is hacking into the sign in my dream, and quickly, the sign updated, saying: “Do not board — Private train”.
Not long after, I hear the train rolling into view — and my dragons — was it a marvel to behold, easily 100 cars long. The entire exterior is a silvery white train with red stripes on it. The red stripes are made from precisely cut ruby that is so thin and so flat that it surprises me it doesn't chip or crack. Surrounding the ruby stripes was chrome lining that holds everything together.
It looks shiny and beautiful, modern yet classical, drawing its inspiration from late 80s diners in the United States, along with Sci-fi elements from “Snowpiercer” and “Hunger Games — Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes”.
What really strikes me at this point is that, this all feels man-made. Engineered. My fantasy doesn't extend to these exquisite tastes without much research beforehand. And yet, that initial fear of the unknown made it all the more tantalizing to step in and roll the fast-lane of the dream world.
The car at the front opens its door, and to my surprise, nobody of the crowd steps in, automatically obeying what the sign says. In a split second, Ben had changed the normal aesthetic of a public train station into a capitalist class-divided private railroad for the ultra-rich to get their own private trains. In real life I'd hate this, but now I couldn't care less!
I got inside the train at the front, just before the conductors' car. The first cabin is relatively simple. It has a few chairs, tables that's it. Nothing too shabby. Each car has the same silvery white colour as the exterior, separated by red doors, mimicking the ruby stripes.
For the first time since my command, the AI spoke again: it said the train would be departing soon, but that I'm allowed to explore the train as I wish.
So, I go into the next car — and this one is a freaking tennis court! It was absolutely insane. There even is a small place for people to watch the game!
I walk into the next car — this seems to be a little restaurant, and quickly becoming my favourite car!
Stockpiles of candy and snacks and everything laid for people to grab for free!
There are Maltesers, Snickers, Bounty, and variations of it all!
Sitting on the floor (as the cabin where the candy was held was quite low), I start munching on everything. And I mean, everything!
I started eating the whole supply, there is even white Maltesers, and oh my god, they tasted so good.
Throughout this feast, I keep thinking of how grateful I am that it feels so real, the taste, the crunch, the feeling of getting full… My synapses are firing like crazy at this point to make this taste so real.
After the entire bar is emptied, and I feel almost like puking, I walk into the next car, this one is a literal petting zoo! It has a cow behind a small fence, and some chicken above in a cage.
It was an absolute monster of a train, and it just kept going, and going, and going! Everything stayed so consistent. I could always find my way back to the first cabin and I could even look at the screens inside the train and see how fast we are going.
I could look outside and see biomes consistent of that with the Netherlands… But something happened along the way. The more and more I drove towards Groningen. I started noticing that there are other people around, too.
First just a few, but later on, it starts to become more and more. And I began to ask myself: Where do these people come from?
This was intense and at this point I am a little annoyed because they weren't supposed to get on. We didn't stop in front of a station, so they couldn't have got on in the first place.
At some point, I even see my family. My mom and my sister… I ask my mom: “how did you get in?”
And she tells me that she doesn't know, but she is very happy to be here, there are so many things to do, and it is so special to spend time together with us on this train. I actually feel a little emphatic. Yeah, this could be special, let's ride it out!
I walked also towards other people, strangers… They say they are lucid dreamers and that they wanted the private train. But for some reason, the private train, was the same train for all of us.
I guess the AI made a mistake and thought that this train was the private train and just gave it to every lucid dreamer out there. I don't know, but the whole thing felt almost spiritual because all of these people, felt real. It added life to the scene. I see people hanging out in the restaurant car — just talking to each other about completely random subjects, relaxing. You know, just taking a cup of coffee or something. The train, the engineering, the people, everything was alive. It was so real.
It is even more alive than that. To each other and to me, these people were strangers at first. But riding this out together, starts to feel like days as time begins to drift. We began closing in on each other, some strangers became friends, and the friend groups started doing things together having activities. And the kids started patting the cow together.
Couple of more days in, people start setting up shops together, and they start making their own things. From just a means of luxury transportation it soon shifted into a meters long artist hub. And slowly, but surely, as the days pass, it becomes a city on rails. There are kids playing and everyone knows each other.
It is a crazy experience to see all this unfold, a life intermingled and yet so different all having their own characters and their own clothing, their own movements. Everything. Just… oh… it fell into place in this one thing.
And then I start to feel that I am going to wake up… Being so attached to this place. I don't want to just leave without saying goodbye. So, I walk to the front of the train, to the conductor. Strangely enough, no human is driving the train. In front of me there is a desk with nothing but a single microphone and a button. I activate the microphone to make an announcement.
A jingle starts playing, the same one as in Snowpiercer. I started having my speech, and I remember exactly what I said. It was that I was very happy to be here, and that sadly, it is my time to go, and I hoped that everyone remembers everything.
I let go of the mic and I walk back into the other cars, by now, things have so heavily evolved we have plants growing in every car, mostly food to eat.
But I didn't quite hear anything on the speakers when I made the announcement, so I ask random people if they heard the passenger announcement, but they all reply: “no we didn't hear anything”. So I guess that the microphone didn't work.
I then walk up to my mom. She is playing around with my nephews and nieces in a makeshift playground someone made. I tell her that I really loved everything about it and I hope that she remembers everything, but I am afraid that she won't remember anything. She asked if I will remember anything, and my answer was yes.
I explain to them that them forgetting, but me remembering is some kind of protection mechanism. To make sure that no strange, spiritual secrets about mysterious worlds reveal themselves. Yet that these people like my mum can still feel the positive vibes. Still, a really strange thing to say, but it was how I interpreted it at the time.
I walk back into the other coaches and say goodbye to a few other people that mattered the most to me here since there was no way I could say goodbye to everyone.
I woke up with full closure.
Once I got up, I realized I hit snooze on my alarm clock for maybe about 20 minutes. Which means that this whole thing happened in just 20 minutes. Possibly even less because I wouldn't sleep right away.
And that felt kind of crazy.

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

I want to start by saying I love this game. I am posting this bc I want to see it thrive. I know this topic has to have been ran into the ground on this subreddit but I wanted to open a discussion to help me understand where we as players stand on the topic right now. Firstly, I apologize to all the people I thought were exaggerating about late endless runs being horrible before this point. With my recent return to the game and shiny weekend I decided to do my first endless run and it is a major success. I have a tinkaton/kartana fusion and a lvl 7500 salt cure leech seed protect metal burst garganacl and I have SSS luck on floor 1500ish. I legitimately dont think I can lose the run unless I just get tired of it.... segway into why I am tired of it lmao. The status and endure tokens NEED to be reworked or taken out of the game imo. As a competitive pokemon player I have always hated sleep and freeze because I think any mechanic that just stops you from playing the game is dumb and here in endless I get slept or frozen 85% of the time I am hit. So I have just quickly thought of a few ways I think it could be remedied.
First and foremost, just fix the lum berry so it works like it does in actual pokemon games. In mainline games lum berry activates as soon as you are statused whereas in pokerogue the berry priorities are all the same meaning it doesnt happen until everyone has taken their turn. I am sure that this was to make coding berries easier but tbh more berries activate immediately once the requirements are met than berries that activate at the end of the turn. Take stat boosting berries and the Super Effective berries, those all activate immediately once you hit 25% HP or are hit by a SE attack respectively. The only post turn berries are the healing ones. I think fixing when all the berries are supposed to proc would change ALOT. Im even down for a berry pouch nerf to balance this out if needed.
Second things, get rid of being able to randomly encounter boss battles outside of the 10s floors. Maybe after floor 1000 you run into a boss every five floors, but having 5 boss battles in 10 floors makes this unbearable at some points. Boss bars paired with endure and status tokens is what actually makes it really annoying. I can deal with non boss pokemon really really easily. This also opens up to more strategy around having a designated boss carry and a faster strong hitter to take out the non boss mons rather than just having the same ole boring 2 strats everyone is forced to run late game.
At the end of the day people play endless to hunt shinies, legendaries, and hidden abilities. It shouldnt be this much of a pain by floor 1500 to do all of that. Endless should be about making cool unique pokemon to run the game with, making cool fusions no one else has done. Using your favorite pokemon in a unique way etc etc. But bc of how the game is setup right now it just feels tedious and none of that is possible. I hope we can all try to help the devs think of ways to fix these issues for players.

Im bored and my mom is sleeping

/r/French