So I am 26 years old. I am from Melbourne Australia. I am single and I live with my mother, my step-dad, my brother and my sister in law who have just moved back in recently after having moved out of home 3 years ago, but have moved back in to save money to eventually move out into the country somewhere. They are not really city/suburb people. The prefer regional/rural areas.
Anyway, the problem in our family is my step dad. I would say for the last 5-6 years, he has withdrawn alot from us. He spends the majority of his time (when he is not at work) sitting outside smoking, drinking and watching YouTube videos on his phone. We barely see him except for weekends because he works the afternoon/evening shifts.
When we do see him on weekends, he barely ever wants to do anything with us. We are always inviting him out to do things with us, but the majority of the time, he says no and uses the excuse of staying home to look after the dogs to get out of it. The only thing that we really do anymore is watch our show together on Saturday nights (if we haven't got something on, which we often do), but even that he is starting to lose interest in.
He also get sick quite often. He has a really bad cough due to his heavy smoking. I have never smoked in my life. My mum, brother and sister in law have, but they have all given up regular cigarettes now and either vape or use marijuana. I would honestly prefer if they just ditched the vapes and just smoked the marijuana to be honest and I have never had a problem with people who smoke pot as long as you do it safely and don't drive on it. It smells way better than cigarettes or the horrible artificial smell of vapes. Anyway, that's not the point.
He (my step dad) has also claimed to be on a meat and dairy only diet for the past couple of years now, basically the complete opposite of a vegan, yet we constantly see him eating bread, chips and other regular foods that are not part of his carnivore diet. He also makes a massive mess in the kitchen every time he cooks his food and never cleans it up because he cooks and attempts to clean in the dark without the light on.
We all think (myself, mum, my brother and sister in law) all think he had some severe health problems like potentially lung cancer and maybe even early onset dementia, but her just will not go to the doctor.
My brother and sister in law even said that one of the main reasons they moved out in the first place 3 years ago was because of how uncomfortable they felt around him and now they are saying the exact same thing again. They said it again literally tonight.
He also does not have a very good relationship with either of his biological children (my step brother and step sister). He says that he wishes that he talked to and saw them more, yet he makes little to no effort to see them or spend time with them outside of special occasions like birthdays, despite the fact that his son lives 10 minutes around the corner. His daughter lives a few hours away, but you would think he would make the time to see her more often, especially since his daughter now has a daughter, making him a grandfather.
He also sleeps in a completely separate room to my mum too which I believe severely impacts their relationship. Couples who do not sleep in the same bed together (for the most part) I believe do not wore every well in general. Now to be fair, this is mainly due to the fact that he snores very loudly and has too wear a massive CPAP machine at night which would keep mum awake, so he eventually just moved into the spare room. That part of it I get, but it's still not ideal.
And the worst part is, all that is just scratching the surface. My mum is constantly ranting and complaining to me about how much she has had enough and is fed up with him just doing nothing and not wanting to be a part of the family any more and just retreating into himself and I completely agree with her as well.
My mum and step dad have been together for 20 years this year, but I know for a fact that she does not love him anymore and wants to break up with him and end the relationship. Not only has she flat out told me this in private, but she wouldn't even have to tell me for me to know.
The biggest problem however and the primary reason why she won't separate from his is money. They have a mortgage for the house in both their names, many contracts are in both their names as well for things that we have done to the house like adding the solar panels, the battery backup for the solar panels, the renovations etc. A few joint accounts too.
Mum has told me so many times that if she were to win the lottery, she would leave him in a heartbeat. The money side of things and so many things being in both their names makes the situation so much harder. Mum has also said that she could not afford to live in our house if they split up as just a one person salary would not cover everything. I currently do not have a job and am actively;y looking for a new one after leaving a toxic work environment recently, but I do my part by paying for the houses monthly internet bill which lowers the cost of my board and my brother and sister in law also chip in in their way, but I still don't know if that would be enough.
Now of course, I love my step dad. I really do. He has been my main father figure in my life for the past 20 years since my mum divorced my real dad in 1999 when I was 2 years old. I still see my real dad on a regular basis and we have a good relationship, but I obviously have not lived with him 24/7 like I have with my step dad for 20 years. It's just that unfortunately, he is just not working in our family anymore and something has to change.
I guess what I am asking for is some advice and some help. Is there a way that we can move on from him? Is there a way where we can get him out of our lives without our lives being shaken up in the process. We have lived in this house for 18 years and it is our home. The thought of moving somewhere else just because we wouldn't be able to afford it anymore is heartbreaking to me. I know I may eventually move out one day if I get a girlfriend or whatever, but more heartbreaking for my mum than anything else.
So my question to you all is, has anyone out there reading this experienced the same sort of thing I have just described to you and if so, how did you manage to get out of it (if you did) and get your family back again? Any sort of advice or information or whatever else you can give me would be so much appreciated.
Thank you for reading and listening.

I’m seriously considering donating a kidney to my former boss. Before I discuss this with her and we see if I’m a match, I want to be 100% sure I’m aware of the whole process and how it’ll affect my life. I’m not sure what information is relevant so I’ll just state what I know.
She’s 40 years old and was diagnosed with an auto immune disease in adolescence. Currently getting ready to restart dialysis, she did have viable donor about a year ago but then became ineligible for a transplant because her kidney function increased. She has since regressed, no longer has a donor, and has been on the deceased donor list for 6 years.
I’m a 34 year old female. We’re of similar stature, similar ethnicities, she is about 50lbs heavier than I, idk if that’s relevant. I’m A-. I don’t know her blood type.
I have no underlying health issues. I do have a history of alcoholism but I am in recovery and doing well. A relapse for me is extremely unlikely IMO , and if it were to occur, it would be an incident, not a regression back into the lifestyle.
I smoke cigarettes. I plan to quit permanently and will quit for the process, obviously. I’m aware that smoking is nonnegotiable for this.
I have been diagnosed with hypertension at age 24. Have a family history of heart disease, father died of fatal heart attack at age 33. However, I have been off blood pressure medication and haven’t had any hypertension issues since I’ve quit drinking.
My mental health is decent. I’ve been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and bipolar 2 disorder. However, the bipolar diagnosis was a misdiagnosis- I’m 100% certain I am not bipolar and can have that assessed if needed. My only concern is that it is now on my medical record. I’m not currently struggling with depression or anxiety and take no mental health medications. I see a therapist for my mental health and that’s all.
I’m currently taking Subutex (buprenorphine) for my alcoholism. This is unorthodox since it’s typically used for opiate addiction and I’m not addicted to opiates. My psychiatrist prescribed it for alcohol cravings and so far it has been more successful than anything I’ve tried in the past. I would be willing to go off it if it’s absolutely necessary, but I prefer not to. I’ve been on it for 8 months.
My concerns are:
What is the medical fitness test like?
How long is the recovery, and what is it like?(Limitations, pain, etc.)
How will/could this affect my quality of life?
Will I be more prone to illness?
How are the medical expenses usually covered? I currently have Medicaid. I don’t know what insurance she has but I know it’s not government assistance.
I’m not looking for compensation, however I don’t know how much work I can afford to take off for this. It helps that I can plan for it, but would be a tremendous help if this is something her health insurance can cover. That actually sounds extremely unlikely now that I’ve said it, but again, I have no idea how any of this works.
We haven’t worked together for 2 years so her being my former boss shouldn’t be an issue. I simply want to help her be able to raise her children and be able to enjoy the rest of her life. She’s the type of person we need more of in this world.

I’m seriously considering donating a kidney to my former boss. Before I discuss this with her and we see if I’m a match, I want to be 100% sure I’m aware of the whole process and how it’ll affect my life. I’m not sure what information is relevant so I’ll just state what I know.
She’s 40 years old and was diagnosed with an auto immune disease in adolescence. Currently getting ready to restart dialysis, she did have viable donor about a year ago but then became ineligible for a transplant because her kidney function increased. She has since regressed, no longer has a donor, and has been on the deceased donor list for 6 years.
I’m a 34 year old female. We’re of similar stature, similar ethnicities, she is about 50lbs heavier than I, idk if that’s relevant. I’m A-. I don’t know her blood type.
I have no underlying health issues. I do have a history of alcoholism but I am in recovery and doing well. A relapse for me is extremely unlikely IMO , and if it were to occur, it would be an incident, not a regression back into the lifestyle.
I smoke cigarettes. I plan to quit permanently and will quit for the process, obviously. I’m aware that smoking is nonnegotiable for this.
I have been diagnosed with hypertension at age 24. Have a family history of heart disease, father died of fatal heart attack at age 33. However, I have been off blood pressure medication and haven’t had any hypertension issues since I’ve quit drinking.
My mental health is decent. I’ve been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and bipolar 2 disorder. However, the bipolar diagnosis was a misdiagnosis- I’m 100% certain I am not bipolar and can have that assessed if needed. My only concern is that it is now on my medical record. I’m not currently struggling with depression or anxiety and take no mental health medications. I see a therapist for my mental health and that’s all.
I’m currently taking Subutex (buprenorphine) for my alcoholism. This is unorthodox since it’s typically used for opiate addiction and I’m not addicted to opiates. My psychiatrist prescribed it for alcohol cravings and so far it has been more successful than anything I’ve tried in the past. I would be willing to go off it if it’s absolutely necessary, but I prefer not to. I’ve been on it for 8 months.
My concerns are:
What is the medical fitness test like?
How long is the recovery, and what is it like?(Limitations, pain, etc.)
How will/could this affect my quality of life?
Will I be more prone to illness?
How are the medical expenses usually covered? I currently have Medicaid. I don’t know what insurance she has but I know it’s not government assistance.
I’m not looking for compensation, however I don’t know how much work I can afford to take off for this. It helps that I can plan for it, but would be a tremendous help if this is something her health insurance can cover. That actually sounds extremely unlikely now that I’ve said it, but again, I have no idea how any of this works.
We haven’t worked together for 2 years so her being my former boss shouldn’t be an issue. I simply want to help her be able to raise her children and be able to enjoy the rest of her life. She’s the type of person we need more of in this world.

I’ve been smoking since I was 12/13 years old (I’m European and I was hanging out with bad people, not so unheard of).
I am now 25 and I want to stop, but first, I don’t know how. Should I stop cold turkey? Should it be gradual? I already have a vape, but it still has nicotine in it.
I tried to gradually stop, but I would find excuses (it was a bad day, I’m stressed out, I deserve one more…). I tried to stop cold turkey by not buying any tabacco or cigarettes but it didn’t work. I would chain smoke the vape or I would feel like I was in a black cloud and just snappy at everyone and everything.
And I’m also terrified of gaining weight. I was obese all of my life and in the last two/three years I’ve managed to lose all the weight in excess, and the thought of gaining back because I stopped smoking scares me too much.
Does anyone have any advice or experience?

I went out with an unknown group on Halloween to collect candy. I can't recall the costumes we wore. It was already dark as we went from door to door. Arriving at an apartment with a stairwell illuminated through a window, I saw a black figure at the window. The body seemed human, but it had horns on its head and white, glowing eyes. At that moment, I didn't understand what I had let in – what it meant. But all this was just a dream, a nightmare. In the following days, I didn't think much about this figure, as it seemed to be a one-time occurrence. However, from that dream onwards, I suffered from depression triggered by family, friendship, and school problems.
At that time, I was 21 to 22 years old, studying, and still living with my parents. The problems in my family had worsened due to the death of a family member. My friendships with two of my closest friends also began to crumble, as we were unable to have mature conversations about our problems. The increasing stress at university made it even harder for me to manage everything.
A particularly strange experience happened during dinner with my family at my grandma's place. We were in her old apartment, although she hadn't lived there for 10 years. The place gave me goosebumps – old, gray, and smelling of cigarette smoke. The food tasted only of onions, which spoiled my appetite. While my family chatted and ignored me, I felt as if someone was looking over my shoulder. An uncomfortable feeling of being watched followed me.
I felt a magical pull towards grandma's bedroom. But as I entered, it became dark, and the sounds of dinner ceased. A dark shadow appeared on the wall – with a large hump, horns, and white eyes. Panic gripped me, and I just wanted to flee. My eyes slowly closed and reopened. I was lying in my bed, drenched in sweat, looking around. I couldn't move, and the blanket felt heavy on me.
The depression intensified, and my behavior became increasingly strange. I felt as if someone else had taken over me. Indecision, confusion, and fear accompanied me from then on. The nightmares became more frequent, and I suffered from sleep paralysis. Again and again, I thought I saw someone out of the corner of my eye or saw someone fleeting by. But the worst was the sleep demon, who lurked as a silent observer in my dreams. He blended into the surroundings – sometimes a drawing, sometimes a shadow or an outline. But no matter how he appeared, he took my breath away.
A particularly oppressive experience happened when I was climbing a staircase with my mother. The way seemed endless. The walls were white, and the stairs yellow with black steps. The atmosphere was gray and empty. The higher we climbed, the emptier and grayer it became. Finally, we reached an apartment door, opened by an unknown woman. As we entered, I stood by the window and saw him standing there – with his hump, his horns, and the glowing white eyes. He showed me a suffocating smile with his sharp teeth. Emotionless, I followed the woman into the room she wanted to show us. But the room was charred, and the furniture looked as if it had melted. Panic gripped me, and I felt an indescribable fear.
Darkness surrounded me, with no solid ground and no clear sight. Everything I tried to hold onto turned to smoke and vanished. A deep, dark hole formed in my stomach, swallowing all the good and bright things until only darkness remained.
Did I feel guilty about everything? Was I wrong? Was I just a burden? Was I in everyone's way? I wandered along a beach, the surroundings veiled in darkness. Is this really a beach? I heard the sound of the waves but saw no water. The sand beneath my feet did not give way easily, but it tickled with every step. Without thinking, I followed the endless beach and let myself drift.
Now I am 23 years old. The phase of depression is over, and I have regained my balance by practicing acceptance and taking care of my body, mind, and surroundings. The sleep demon has not appeared in my dreams for six months, and I can now sleep without any issues. Was he real or just a manifestation of my problems or a part of myself? To me, he seemed very real, and even if not, it seems he only embedded himself in me because I had lost my inner balance and could only drive him away by returning to that balance.

Hello,
I'm a 25 years old man and have been suffering from this disease for 7 years, I'm glad to have found this community and hope this post will help you.
Without wasting time, here's what helped me : During a period of my life, I suffered from multiple flare ups and became so depressed that I started eating a meal a day, I noticed after a week or two that all my flare ups disappeared, I couldn't find the reason, the meal consisted of meat bread and some mixed fruit juice.
After that and each time I changed my diet and had a flare up, I just came back to that basic meal and it all went away again, so I was sure that it was related in a big part to the food I was eating.
Through my research, I discovered that some food provoke an immune response in humans, in my case it was mainly dairy (which I completely stopped since then).
My diet right now is mainly meat (ground beef) and fruits, I also introduced bread and other things, this has put me into semi complete remission with the rare bad flare up (that sucks) once every 2 months or so approx.
Possible other instigators : swimming - stress - sweat - cigarettes - alcohol.
I follow the advice of a youtuber called Saladino Paul, he goes into details with the studies of the foods that provoke an immune response.
I have nothing to sell to you, just want to tell you that there's hope and if you never tried to get rid of dairy and processed foods in general, you can give it a try and see how it goes for you.
If you have any question, I will be happy to answer it.

Hello. I'm a 27 year old male who got diagnosed with grade 3 glioma last year. I had a successful brain surgery, completed 6 weeks of radiotherapy and I am currently half ways through my 12 cycles of temozolomide. I would have been a 15 to 20 cigarette a day smoker and heavy drinker. I quite drinking when I got diagnosed, but struggled to quit smoking. 2 months ago my oncologist gave me a good chat about why I should quit smoking and it worked. However, as a person with an addictive personality I needed something. All I do now is vape, maybe 20 puffs a day. I get the liquid with the lowest amount of nicotine. Realistically, is this a bad choice on my behalf? Should vaping be eliminated also? I've made a lot of changes to my life.

Kadillac Kirk had been a good friend of mine for several years. I had met him through friends from The Spring Stage; and he never had anything to do with The Imp, which is why he didn’t appear in the Married Mary saga. Mary would have totally thrown herself at him, and Kirk would have definitely “thrown it in her.” He loved the ladies and often remarked that there was no such thing as an unappealing woman, nor was there anything sweeter than finding the pearl of passion in an outwardly plain dame. Fortunately for Kirk, he never met Mary. This was probably fortunate for Mary as well, seeing as Kirk was a confirmed bachelor and his rakish nature might have broken her fat heart.
Kirk was an older guy. Not MOE old, though. He was in his early forties, but he easily passed for a carefree dude in his 30s... not that he lied about his age. I only mention this trait to juxtapose Kirk’s genuine youthful air with Moe’s unconvincing youthful farce. Kirk dressed normally, avoided stupid jargon, and never busted out gimmicks like tarot cards or spells. He just existed, behaved affably, and people liked him for it.
He drove a classic 1962 Cadillac El Dorado convertible with red leather interior, and he lived in a charmingly quaint (and ridiculously expensive) neighborhood. How he made his fortune remained a mystery, but he never bloviated about his wealth. He just threw spectacular parties and people showed up. And, to my knowledge, he never tried to lure women into bed with his money (although I’m sure he got his fair share of boom-boom thanks to his digs and his wheels, even if the gold-diggers denied their monetary agendas).
Kirk was legitimately handsome. He was a drummer, he had a full head of black hair, he was clean-shaven, he worked out, and he knew all the hidden gems in Wellsprings. So why hadn’t I tried... or even desired to date him? I don’t know. I just didn’t feel drawn to him like that. He felt like a cool uncle and he had, thus far, never done anything to change my perception. Plus, the age difference weirded me out a little. Kirk didn’t look forty; but knowing that he had so much more life experience than I did created a power imbalance that would have creeped me out if we’d been dating. As buddies, I just felt supremely cool riding in his Cadillac, smoking Fantasia cigarettes, and hitting the speakeasies and jazz clubs I would have never known about if it weren’t for Kirk’s connections.
And he had been a good person to talk to about my romantic woes. He never lecherously suggested that I should date him, and he gave the type of tempered advice that only comes with lived experience. But he often lightly mocked me for my crush on Dennis and he did a hilarious impression of Smegal popping too soon over his “precious.” So when Mary “got me back” by doing whatever she did with to Dennis, I called Kadillac Kirk and told him the drinks were on me if he’d be my designated driver for the night.
Why hadn’t I called Whisky??? Well, A) Kirk was way more fun to hang out with, at least from my past experiences up to that point. And B) I needed to bitch about a boy, something I couldn’t do in good conscience in front of a guy I was dating. So I put on the sexiest plunging halter dress I owned, applied heavy eye makeup and spikey accessories, braved a pair of stilettos, and sashayed out to Kirk’s convertible. I felt like a badass rock star. I probably looked like a try-hard hooker.
Kirk: Daaaaay-um! Somebody really did do a number on you, huh? I know you said you were upset, but the gents are gonna be writing thank you notes to that fat girl and that butt-fucking hobbit.
Me: I just need to feel pretty and numb. And I trust you to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Kirk squeezed my shoulder. “I’ve got you. You do whatever you need to do to get rid of these demons.”
He sparked up a J and offered me the first puff. I gladly accepted. He took one puff of his own, but said that the rest was mine since he didn’t want to drive stoned. See? He was responsible! Weed wasn’t legal in California yet, so I got a little bit baked before I stashed the sativa in the glove box and wrapped a scarf around my hair like a starlet from the Golden Age of Hollywood. Kirk sped out of the parking lot and said he was taking me to a downtown hotel that was hosting a party that night in their lush lobby.
Kadillac Kirk pulled up to the main entrance, paid the valet, and then opened my door. I was wobbly from the weed. And I had stupidly decided to wear heels. You can get high or you can wear high (heels). You can’t have both. Not if you’ve repeatedly injured both ankles (as I have). I had to take Kirk’s arm to keep from keeling over. “Can people tell I’m stoned?” I whispered. Kirk replied, “Nobody’s paying any attention to anyone else’s intoxication. I promise you that much.” I nodded, steadied myself, and strutted alongside my very cool friend, feeling a little more confident.
A live jazz orchestra was playing Cole Porter as we entered the lobby. Everything sparkled. The music was even more intoxicating than the spliff had been. “Just One of Those Things” brought tears to my eyes since the lyrics hit every raw nerve regarding the Dennis debacle. But I smiled. It might sound mental, but being distraught over a trash fire of a one-sided romance was exhilarating. Immature, for sure. But also exhilarating. You see, that kind of sadness doesn’t hurt. Not really. It stings. It leaves little bruises, but it’s very safe to wallow in because you haven’t actually lost anything. Melancholia over that which you never had is as sweet as it is bitter; and that type of twisted splendor is rivaled only by Stendhal.
“Here's hoping we meet now and then. It was great fun, but it was just one of those things.” I sang along with the band, and a fat tear rolled down past my melancholic smile and onto my chin. Kirk brushed it aside. “Too close to home?” I wiped away the remnants of the tear’s journey from eye to chin and smiled a more genuine smile. “The perfect distance from home. Shall we get drinks? Remember, I’m buying.”
Kirk: No, no. This is your time to heal. And I’m here as your pal, not your chauffeur. What would the lady like?”
I pretended to barf. Kirk knew I hated it when he got overly formal and overly attentive. So he did it just to mess with me. “Shot of vodka,” I replied.
Kirk: How many?
I thought briefly. “FIVE.”
Kirk: Five to one, baby. One in five...
Me: No one here gets out alive.
Kirk: Are you able to hold yourself upright, or should you come with?
I took a seat on an ornate, damask-upholstered chaise lounge. “I’ll be okay. And I was kidding about the five shots.”
I sat there lost in the music for a while. I thought very little about Dennis. Even less about Mary. And not at all about Whisky (whom I had shagged less than a week ago). My mind danced through the ornate lighting in the hotel lobby, and I suddenly felt the need to join the hoity-toity guests on the dancefloor!
Kirk returned with four shots of vodka. Two for him, two for me. That was quite reasonable of him. He knew damn well that I couldn’t handle five shots, but he also knew that I was in a... state. One that called for more than a single shot. I raised a both miniature glasses to “No more ninnyhammers or hairy-footed lovers.” Kirk did his hilarious Smegal impression, we double-toasted, and downed the shots. The band launched into “Let’s Misbehave,” and I kicked off my stilettos and made a beeline for the dance floor.
“There’s something wild about you child that’s so contagious. Let’s be outrageous! Let’s misbehave.” Kadillac Kirk swept me up, twirled me around, and dipped me as we both sang along with the lyrics. I wasn’t swooning for him, but I was enthralled by the moment. The music, the dancing, the combination of booze and bud... so I kissed him as he pulled me back to my feet. And he kissed back. In a way that Dennis never had. In a way that Whisky’s beard wouldn’t permit. I didn’t feel the visceral sensations that I’d felt when Dennis had kissed me, but it felt nice to feel desired. And then I noticed that other guests were watching us and applauding. Now, that was a dopamine rush if ever there was one!
I gently broke away from the embrace, high-fived Kirk and returned to the chaise lounge to put my stupid shoes back on. He followed me and smashed his face back onto mine. I pulled away and laughed. “It was a moment,” I told him. “I appreciate the dance, and that kiss was the perfect finale. But it’s not happening again.”
Kirk: Not to worry, Valerie. I know you. I knew all along that we were performing, and I was more than happy to be your scene partner.
Me: And dance partner! Those were some excellent moves! I didn’t know you had ballroom training.
Kirk: You name it, I’ve mastered it. Another drink for the lady?
I pretended to barf again. “Not yet. I’m not sad right now. Do you mind if I just sit here and enjoy the music?”
Kirk: Ah. My kisses do have healing properties...
I flipped my hand up at him. “Knock that shit off, bro. I wanted to hang out with you because I trust you not to get weird. Even if I get weird, I know you have the maturity to balance me out.”
Kirk: Are you calling me old???
Me: No. I’m calling you rational, responsible, and respectful.
Kirk: Well, now. If you can articulate an alliterative statement that fluently, then you clearly aren’t drunk enough!
I dismissed this comment as a joke. And he did indeed knock off the flirtation. We had a perfectly pleasant time chatting and dancing (no more kissing, though). And then I noticed a girl I knew from Into the Woods entering the lobby. She’d played Florinda and I’d played Little Red. I called her name and waved enthusiastically. She waved back. And then her date entered. It was D.E.N.N.I.S. I sank into the chaise. Kirk caught on immediately. “The hobbit???” he asked. I nodded silently. “You wanna make out again?” he enthused. I shook my head. I had to go say hello to Flo. And I had an idea...
I crossed the lobby, smiled, squealed, and hugged her.
Florinda: Lil’ Red! It’s been forever! So glad to see you!!! This is my friend, Denny.
From the corner of my eye. I could see Dennis shifting uncomfortably. I refused to look directly at him, neglected to acknowledge Flo's introduction and continued to converse only with her. "So glad to see you, too! What have you been up to since we left the woods?"
Dennis: C’mon, Val...
Florinda (appearing oblivious to the iciness between me and Dennis): Oh, I had some drama after the show closed. I'll have to tell you about it some other time... Have you seen Prince Big Bad (Scumbanger) lately?
I laughed. “Last time I saw him, he was hitting on some nasty fat chick at The Imp.”
Flo and I both scoffed at the pervy pest. Into the Woods was where I’d initially met Scumbanger. He played The Wolf/Cinderella’s Prince. Again... typecasting. There’s a whole essay in my brain about my first encounter with the pest, during which he quoted the song that he sang to me in the show, “Hello, Little Girl.” But it gets into some pretty uncomfortable territory because he made me feel... excited. Well, excited and scared. Nothing of note happened during Into the Woods, but our odd interactions did kind of set the stage for some extremely regrettable events during that Cats cast party.
I excused myself, saying that I needed to get back to my friend. And then I leaned in and said in a hushed voice to Flo, “Watch your ass with that one. If he’s the Denny I’m thinking of...” I gave her a look that only another female would be able to read. Her eyebrows shot up and she nodded. Dennis continued to shift as though he were trying to hold in a massive dump. “BABE! Uh...”
Flo apparently answered to that moniker as well. “What is it, Denny? Don’t worry. That was just telepathic girl talk. You apparently have a reputation...”
Dennis: Different Denny. I assure you I’m a pious gentleman.
Me: Ah. My mistake. Well, then. You guys have a good time! They’re playing Cole Porter, and the band is delovely. Great to see you, Flo!
I hugged Flo again, gave Dennis a curt nod, ignored the scent of mandarins and mountain air, and returned to Kirk.
I collapsed on the chaise lounge, exhausted from holding back the rage. I had no right to be mad at Florinda. I hadn’t seen her in three years, so how was she supposed to know that I’d had a thing with Dennis? Hell, I couldn’t even be mad at Dennis because the last time he and I had spoken in any meaningful way, I’d told him that I was no longer entertaining my crush on him. So why was I surprised to see him dating??? And why had he never taken ME out on a date like this??? And why wasn’t I smitten with Kadillac Kirk who HAD taken me out on a date like this, was an objectively excellent kisser, and a bona fide BALLER? What was wrong with me???
Kirk suggested going down the street to a quaint little bar and then sobering up at a diner closer to my apartment. I numbly nodded and followed him in silence for a few blocks. He assured me that I had “turned several heads” on the way to the new location, but I neither cared nor believed him. This wasn't the type of numbness I'd been aiming for. Now I needed to get schnockered. “Five shots of vodka, please.” Yes, I was serious.
Kadillac Kirk, my reliable designated driver, ordered only a beer and watched in something across between astonishment, concern, and delight as I slammed all five shots in rapid succession. I half expected to immediately retch all over the bar. But I felt fine. I half expected to immediately lose consciousness and wake up in the hospital. But I remained coherent. How I’d managed to take in that much hard liquor and suffer no direct consequences, I’ll never know.
I think I wanted to suffer. I wanted to either feel nothing at all or to feel a sickness bad enough to distract me from the scorching sting that pulsed through my being when I realized that I had lost the abstract notion I’d been addicted to this entire time. Hope. It wasn’t Dennis himself I couldn’t quit. It was that drug called hope. The hope that maybe, just maybe Dennis would give our romance a fair chance. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would make peace with himself, get his mind out of his crotch, and enjoy some agenda-free togetherness. The hope that maybe, just maybe he would stop bloviating about his admittedly impressive accomplishments for five fucking minutes and ask about my life. I had my own reasonably impressive accomplishments, even if they paled in comparison to his. A proper suitor would have enjoyed hearing about them.
But seeing him out with another woman, a woman who had no reason to parade her Dennis escapades before me as some means of revenge, a woman he was clearly courting of his own volition... My hope had died. It died before I’d had time to wean myself off it. Now I had to mourn the loss of hope, which is a very tricky brand of grief to navigate. Vodka wasn’t the answer, but it was what I had to work with. So it would have to do.
After enough time had passed without vomiting or collapsing, I asked Kirk to bring his car around to the bar so that I didn’t have to walk two and a half blocks drunk and in heels. He nodded and dramatically leaned in for a kiss. I recoiled. “DUDE! I told you. The moment has passed.”
Kirk: I beg your pardon. I misread your eyes. Thought I saw a green light...
Me: It’s fine. I just want to go home while I’m still feeling okay.
Kirk: Of course. Your chariot will be here soon.
He skipped off to fetch his Cadillac and I noticed that the lights in the bar were beginning to dance a bit. This should have been concerning. But then I realized that I was giggling. Wait... What? Oh shit. Sure, I was drunk from those shots. But what I was feeling in that moment wasn’t drunkery. It was stonery. Kirk probably misread my face because my pupils were dilated. Not from desire, but from drug use.
Some of you might be thinking that I was a bad friend for not introducing Lucy, an old dude connoisseur, to Kirk. Well... I did. Several years before the events of this story. He adored her. She, on the other hand, thought he was immature. And she wasn’t wrong. Lucy was astute when it came to sussing out a person’s true nature. Far more astute than I. Her initial assessment that Kirk was immature is about to be vindicated. Stretch those cringe muscles! It’s almost time for pie...
I somehow managed to get to his car. I honestly don’t recall how I got there. Did one of the bartenders carry me? Did some kind patron allow me to lean on him? Had Kadillac Kirk carried me out? I’m not sure. But my memory ceases to be fuzzy about halfway to the 24-hour diner. It might have been the very same 24-hour diner where Mary pulled her... shenanigans. I’ll never know.
Kirk: Would you say that you’re more drunk or more stoned?
Me: STONED. Definitely stoned.
Kirk made some sort of grunty noise and reached for my thigh. I slapped his hand.
Kirk: Stoned but not amorous? That’s rare.
I started laughing rather unkindly. “You’re a fucking horndog! I thought you were my safe straight male friend, dammit.”
Kirk: I solemnly swear that your safety is my primary concern, my stoned beauty.
I pretended to throw up.
Kirk: So... You’re not horny. But are you hungry? The diner I’m heading to makes this Maple Walnut Pie with the most sumptuous... sensual cream and exquisite drizzling of...
Me: Ew! Stop trying to bang the pie. Bro. Are YOU stoned? (Then I remembered the question.) Yes, I’m hungry. But I don’t like nuts. I’ll have banana cream.
Kirk made that repulsive grunty noise again. “Uhhhhh... Mmmmmm. Cream. Yessssss. Yes, we’ll be there in just a minute.” He was squirming in the driver's seat.
Me: GROSS, DUDE! If you’re gonna be like that I’ll just order HASH brows. Get it? Hash??? (I giggled.) You can’t make that sound nasty.
Kirk: Forgive my jokes. I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.
As Kirk parked, I began to wonder how I might get away with walking shoeless into the diner. The stilettos had to get off my feet. At least while I was walking. And Kirk was kind enough to give me his socks and wear his loafers “island style” into the establishment. Okay, that was gallant of him. Maybe he was going to behave himself for the rest of the evening.
I wasn’t terribly talkative as we sat down, and he expressed a bit of concern for my emotional well-being. I wasn’t coherent enough to explain what was happening to my emotions and I wasn’t sure I trusted him with my deep, dark secrets at that point. So I shrugged like a sulky teenager, ran my hands over my messy, windblown hair, and mumbled that I was “just hungry.” And right on cue, a very kind, slightly older waitress with a sweet southern accent stopped by to take our order.
Kirk: Ah, yes. We’ll have two cups of black coffee. And we’ll share a slice of that delectable Maple Walnut Pie.
Waitress: Oh, honey. That pie is scrumptious! I take it you’ve been here before?
Kirk: I have. This will be her first time to taste the splendor.
I hated to be a killjoy, but I interrupted and said to the waitress, “Ma’am? I’m sure the Maple Walnut is excellent, but could I please get a slice of Banana Cream? And a big glass of ice water?
Waitress: Sure, hon! Banana Cream’s just as yummy! I’ll be right back with those coffees and that big water.
Kirk was sucking on the tip of his forefinger and shaking his head a bit. “You’re passing up so many sensational... sensual...”
I put my forehead on the table and growled. “You swore you’d stop being nasty!” I held this #headdesk pose for quite some time before I finally lifted my head... only to see that Kirk was still sucking his fingertip and staring at me like a wild animal. “Pleeeeeease be normal,” I whined. “It’s been a really weird night for me.”
Kirk: Indeed. Many surprises. You know... You’re like titanium. Your flame burns so fast and so bright, if a guy doesn’t get in there while the iron is hot, he’ll never get another chance. I was too slow.
What the...? I was pretty sure he was wrong about titanium burning quickly. I’m no chemistry wiz, but my dad and my oldest brother are both big-brains when it comes to physics and chemistry. So I picked up some things just listening to them talk. Accurate or inaccurate, Kirk was being creepy again. He’d never been creepy towards me before, although I’d seen him act like this with other women. Usually with staggering success. Why????? His money. It had to be his money. Kirk was a nice-looking man, but holy shit... No amount of good looks could save this creep show
And then, our sweet waitress sat down our coffees, my water, and the two slices of pie. After I gulped down a whole bunch of water, I grabbed a fork, prepared to quell my munchies... and then I froze. Kirk was quickly flicking his finger back and forth across the top of his pie. And moaning. He noticed my wide-eyed stare, smirked, sucked the tip of his thumb, picked up the plate with both hands, and began flicking his tongue across the tip of the triangular pie slice. And moaning some more. Well, there went my appetite.
Kirk took his middle finger and jabbed it into the crustless vertex of the pie slice, then he began pumping it in and out like a piston, and flicking his thumb across the increasingly demolished top layer of whipped cream. He gasped this time. People were starting to stare. His pointer finger joined his middle finger in the piston action, and he replaced his thumb with his tongue. Between flicks of the tongue, he groaned, “Oh yeah, baby... Let me taste you,” but it was kind of hard to understand him.
And I was either about to run to the back office, tell them that I was in danger and needed a police escort home... OR I was about to burst out laughing at the spectacle. Kirk continued... He removed his fingers and gregariously licked pie filling off of them. "Ohhhhh," he groaned, "I got you soooo sticky. So sweet. So moist." And then he started sucking his fingertips again, switching from middle to pointer, middle to pointer and emitting a delighted little, “Mmmmmm” with every suck.
Finally, he jabbed his fingers back into the utterly destroyed pie, lowered his face into the mess and lapped loudly and passionately, moaning, grunting, and mumbling “Come on, baby. Come on. Mmmmmm. Come on.” I could see the waitress and some dude in a suit heading over to the table, so I sank down in my seat, partially covered my face, but continued to watch the train wreck. At last, Kirk shuddered violently as he splatted his entire hand onto the plate and rubbed furiously. And then he locked eyes with me. He sucked the tip of his thumb one final time and said, “You...” There was a long pause during which Kirk lovingly stroked the mess he’d made. “You... are the pie.”
I don’t hang out with Kadillac Kirk anymore. But he’s still a bachelor, ladies!

Its taken me nearly 20 years to make sense of something I happened upon for the first time as a teenager.
There are said to be old service tunnels that run from the naval-shipyard to various locations under my hometown, believed to have been originally built around WWI. But In the early 1940s, the main tunnel was opened as a fallout shelter capable of holding 10,000 people . The rest of the tunnels were supposedly closed off when new construction around town occurred in the 1970s. My grandpa worked construction on what at the time was to be the tallest building in town, adorned with a clock at the peak. He like to brag about having "put a hand on nearly every rock in that build'n" or saying "I remember when that was a pile of rubble until we worked on it". He also liked to say "There are still many old places that hold many old secrets for those brave enough to seek them" but I assumed that he meant the bottom of a bottle.
The main streets are a reminder of the infrastructure built in the 1930s and 40s. Many of the businesses on the street were the ground level of a larger office or warehouse buildings. Some were single story buildings, shoehorned in between the larger ones. There is also a Masonic Lodge history with the town. They built the original temple way back then, and then a couple decades later, built another building and moved there. Their presence is clearly noticeable in the architecture all over the town. There are even plenty of houses in town that were built in the same fashion.
It's amazing how small town gossip can be passed down from generation to generation. I first heard about the tunnels as a young boy from a classmate in the second grade. She said that her dad worked on the base(it’s a naval shipyard) and was an important man because they had an escape tunnel under her house. I think I believed her at the time but I never really saw her after around that point. Even at that age I associated her as a Navy brat. I just assumed they moved.
I never really gave it much thought though until I was about 16, in the year 2005. I was a punk teen. I smoked weed and cigarettes as often as I could. I skipped a lot of school, choosing to go get fucked up and skateboard on private property somewhere. I spent a lot of time all over the town and in the most secluded locations. As a skater I'm telling you there were/are some sick spots! A majority of the buildings are that original brick masonry. Stair cases, gaps, banks, ledges, rails. The biggest problem is that skateboarding was a form of vandalism to public property. It was that year after enough people kept getting into trouble that the skaters of our community petitioned city-hall to have a skatepark built. They listened and even let us help design it. It definitely mimics some of the most popular aspects from downtown.
I stumbled upon the first of the tunnel entrances down an alleyway in downtown. The kicker is that, of course it was past midnight and of course I had been drinking and smoking pot. But that's also why I was in the alleys. Anyone hanging out there wasn't looking for any attention. Yes looking back I regret doing all the stupid things I did. I knew the area like the back of my hand but for some reason I was never able to find an entrance while sober. The alley way is particularly remarkable and I had been down it numerous times before. It’s the only one that has a man bridge over the alley connecting two separate buildings. It’s like a hallway fully enclosed with windows, matching the appearance of the buildings. I had just passed under it and to the next building where a smaller dumpster sat. The dumpster had one side pulled away from the building it was butted up against. It was dark but I could see a gaping dark hole behind and underneath the dumpster. I pulled my lighter out to reveal a staircase leading under the building. It was hard to see but I could tell from the edges of the opening that there was supposed to be a metal or wooden cover.
Intrigued I pulled out my old Nokia cellphone. The screen albeit small and dim, it did glow and in the dark-dark was better than nothing. I didn't want to burn myself and wanted to conserve my lighter for other things. I don't know why exactly I felt I needed to but I dropped down behind the dumpster to the stairwell and held my phone up high like a lantern. The stairs went down maybe 15 steps to a flat that went through a doorway on the left. Curiosity out weighed rationality in those days and I made my way down to the flat as quietly as I could. As the last bit of ambient light and noise from the dark quiet alley disappeared, the calm stagnant air in the concrete passage way that acted like an echo chamber was a stark shift in environment.
There was a hallway beyond the doorway that was extremely narrow and not very long. It was only wide enough for one person. It was probably 15 feet in length or so. As I slowly proceeded, the hallway dumped out into a much larger tunnel. I remember thinking "a bus could fit through here!" and it stretched far beyond the dim lights reach of my Nokia. I debated on whether I should just head back and decided now was an appropriate time to spark up a smoke, which didn't mix well with the stale air. Replacing my light source with the flame from my lighter provided enough light to see a panel of switches on the wall next to the smaller tunnel. I flipped one and the main tunnel lit up surprisingly, popping a humming to life. It was at least a football field in length. There were a few other similar little tunnels in various locations along this larger one.
As I was taking in just how long it was I peered from one end to the other and down at the farthest end was what looked like a person. The realization snapped me out of my wonderment. I was now uneasy at the thought that someone was down here just hanging out in the darkness. The more I focused on the figure the more it appeared that it was just standing down there staring at me. I looked the other direction but didn't notice anyone or anything. Taking a drag as I looked back towards the figure who I was now significantly closer to, I stopped in mid step. I hadn't been aware of it but I had been walking towards the figure. That's when everything in my body told me to leave now. And in that very moment the figure began running at me full sprint. There was no time to make sense of how or why I was walking towards the figure or why I was even down here in the first place as I turned running as fast as I could.
When I got to the smaller tunnel I took the opportunity to glance back over my shoulder while rounding the corner. To my absolute terror the figure was right where I was when I started running. I could hear the foot steps echoing off every surface followed with the creepiest snarling. I hit the stairs skipping three or four steps at a time. The light from the night city sky poured over the remaining steps and I nearly forgot the drop I had made getting down there. As I reached for the side of the stair well to pull my self up I could here that thing hit the stairs. With every ounce of adrenaline I heaved myself up and rolled out into the alley. Frantically I picked myself up and rammed into the dumpster closing the gap and began to head to the main street. That night I sprinted the nearly 1.5 miles back home without stopping or looking back.
I wish I could say that I forgot about that night and the tunnels to save myself some sanity in life. If I had only known this was the beginning of something much older and darker than I could have imagined. It took me a few weeks to shake the initial shock of that encounter. Eventually I went back during the day but couldn't even find the dumpster. I put it out of my mind until about six months later when an opportunity came up to visit with my grandpa...

I’ve hit a brick wall with my 3rd great grandparents and would really appreciate any help!! This is a very long post as I wanted to include as much info as I thought could be helpful, apologies if it’s much more than necessary. I also have a family photo of my 3rd great grandparents James and Anna Rada and most of their children from around the early 1900s, if that could be of any help.
I’ve so far been unable to find either set of my 4th great grandparents. James Vaclav Rada (or possibly Vaclav James Rada?) and Anna Rada (maiden name possibly Schultz) were born around 1852, I think in the Austrian Empire but I’m not very knowledgeable about the history of that area so I could be totally off. On the 1910 census record he wrote Bohemia as the birth place for both him and Anna but that was crossed out and Austria was written, however on the 1920 and 1930 census just Bohemia was written. I’ve also seen people list them as being from Prague.
James was also listed as Jim on one of his daughters death certificates, and on a census he was listed as James Rada Jr so his father could have possibly had the same name. I’ve also seen on others family trees that his mothers maiden name might have been Rosenberger but I have no idea how true that is. In that same vein, he may have possibly had a sister or half sister named Antonia who I also have a photo of if that could be of any help, and I’ve heard through word of mouth he may have had a brother named Frank who also came to the US.
I am quite confident Anna had a younger sister named Marie Schultz who married a Josef Sidak, they both came to the U.S. in 1887 and her father was a Joseph Schultz, so that could be Anna’s father but I can’t find any information about him.
Anna and James got married before immigrating, I think around 1876 but that’s based off the age it’s listed he was first married at, as I have no record of anything from before they came to the US. James and Anna had 9 children together to my knowledge; Joseph, Josephine (Josie), Charles, Anna, Rose, James, Mae, Henry, and William (Bill). After Anna passed on July 3rd 1915 in Perkins South Dakota, James married Katherine Kanka (born 1877, also in the same area of Europe) and had one child with her, a son named Edward. James died on September 28th 1938 in Beadle, South Dakota. I don’t have either James or Anna’s death certificates and did look into how to get them but ultimately couldn’t figure it out, so if anyone knows how that would be fantastic!
It seems they moved around quite a bit after coming to the US, I think they originally came to either Chicago or South Dakota, but lived in Minnesota at one point and possibly Nebraska?
I have spoken with some distant cousins and my grand aunt about this side of the family. The older relatives mostly said the same thing word for word, that they were “gypsies in the old country”, not quite sure what that means. Much of the other stuff I’ve heard from family is random and seems insignificant, not sure how true any of it is.
I’d really love to find their birth certificates or any record of them or their parents from before immigrating, although I have no clue how realistic that is. Really anything anyone else could tell me about them would be highly highly appreciated!!
If there’s any information I should have included that would help just let me know.

Good morning,
Yesterday happened as usual, I came to a casino to get MAX up to 3 pints to get through withdrawals and kill couple of hours, because I was very tired at work because of the hangover and because it was weekend on which I drank through. Next thing you know I am in another bar (they are like 25 meters apart, but the second one has better vibe, but full of alcoholics (and I am one of them)). Scrolling through instagram, chatting, feeling sorry for myself, then feeling good about myself because its the last evening I drink right? Already 11pm they are closing and im into my 7th pint (I cant even get drunk till 6th anymore). Instead of getting ok with being bit drunk and went to sleep, I came back to casino got another two pints. Usually I loose my mind after that much pints, well become drunk me, yesterday I was fully aware of what I was doing. Then I met another young guy who had no money but also has drinking problems. I bought him a beer and we became "brothers/friends"... I didnt want to get that tenth pint, so I bought cigarettes, went home and smoked three in a row to get even more f'ed up. Its been like this the past 5 months for sure. and probably since 2023 july month. In that time I quit weed, harder drugs, but my alcohol intake and addiction for it just went through the roof. Now I dont even know why I go to the bar, why do I drink. I don't like these random people, being friends with them, cuz all we have in common is being alcoholics. I am really grateful for the life I have, I do have my own place, some relationships. And I know the longer I go with this streak the deeper the hole will get. I used to be fit, fresh skin, looking young for my age, now Im bloated, eyes swollen, always tired, can't stay still without wanting to puke. Anxiety is through the roof, I cant focus, my job performance is going down. And after all this, admiting this. I still choose booze. My main thing is physicall addiction, when I think that I am not drinking this evening and being in the bed without being f'ed up, my body aches, my stomach gets seizures.
Having a tough of what I have done to myself, the money I spent, the shape I am in now, and imagining the process of getting through withdrawals scares the f out of me. But If I managed to drink for the past year every day, It is my price for it. I've been having problems from alcohol ever since 16 years old. Lost girlfriends, fight with parents, family, lost jobs, lost driving license. But I was never full blown alcoholic, I did my responsibilites as much as I could, I've had some sober streaks. I was heavily into drugs too, which Im refusing now.
Usually im back to drinking on day fifth because of feeling depressed, anxious, sick, tired, panic. My mind tells me then "Why the F I am not drinking??? For what?" And then I go to have those 3 pints again and them I am usually back to making it even worse.
After yesterday, I know there will be no limits, no ending, no last 3 pints. I was waiting for that day zero for the past ten years. And this morning I realised that I can start it, not universe, not spirits, not faith. But ME. My awareness, my brain, my body. I hope I can comment this tomorrow with saying "Day zero / completed"

Hello , I’m 35 and a cannabis smoker. Never ever cigarettes. ( although as of right now/ recently ) I’m not smoking anything. I started smoking about 10 years ago and never had any problems. In 2016 I had a really bad cold and ended up needing a rescue inhaler. Every now and then I would get a bronchospasm and need the inhaler but it was very intermittent and I was still able to do pretty much whatever I wanted, including exercise, figure skating, etc. I could even smoke and dab with no need for an inhaler. It was pretty much only when I would get a cold or the weather would be weird. I live in Alaska ( our air is very dry) anyways I’ve noticed the past month I’ve been needing my inhaler a lot more even without smoking, which is concerning because whenever I take breaks from smoking my need for an inhaler is non-existent however, this time is different. I don’t have a persistent cough. It’s mostly in the mornings and my phlegm is clear and honestly there’s not much. I do sometimes wake up in the morning feeling tight chested and in need of my inhaler. Lately it’s been more than usual. I did do a pulmonary test last year and they didn’t tell me anything alarming. All they said was that I should continue to take breaks every now and then. As of now Ive needed my inhaler after a long walk with kids and having to carry my 5 year old off an on during the walk. I had a little chest pain but no other symptoms . And that was only after coughing to remove phlegm from my lungs. Is this the start of COPD?

Does old brick mortar used between 1920-1980 contain asbestos, I’ve heard conflicting stories and I do a lot of repointing but never really thought about asbestos in mortar (always wear a mask anyway)

My family is poor with no health insurance and they decided to go back to China to see cheap doctor once. They used to treat the whole village with food, party meals, and buy golds electronics motorcycle for their friends and relatives. This cause people think I have a good life in usa and fuel them with jealousy or shameful behavior like cousin ask my dad for money, so they will play with me. There was one time my aunt bought me to her coworker rural wedding. I played with their family dog.

I used to love dog until I got bit by one. Isn't it normal for kids like me to play with dogs. However, my parents blame me that I needed to get a shot treatment immediately. It’s that shot that stunt my growth for a while. It’s like anything my relatives did is ok or they won’t yell at them even if they hurt me like break my back. Other parents would jump in stand up for them. Also, one of my cousin is unemployed that stay over avoid his own parents and same guy rant all time how usa suck and reminisce that he cool bully in China that once fed my older sister cigarette when she’s baby. There another cousin recently that gotten deep trouble for scam in China but they bought outcharges and escape USA with money buy house and mistress. Life is unfair that assholegetlucky and still treat families like crsp.
All my childhood is be patient with false promises and one day in future will be better. All these pain and suffering continued because it stem from us being coward and weak. My dad talk about politic everyday and hold ccpcard yet he have no stakes. In his mind he wasted his youth and regret coming to usa. Meanwhile, my mom hated my dad and wish she marry better and left him in China.
They consider aborting me like previous to have less liability. They missed out purchasing a house when it’s cheap as 100-200k now it’s over 1.5 millions and rent rate is through the roof. Rely on me while doing bare minimum. I resent that a lot of my classmate gets allowance, insurance, travel, car, mortgage paid off along why inheritance and will made in their name while I get nothing, but debts inherited from my parents. If I leave is it untimely and unfilial since they’re old. It’s so frustrating. They have bad relationship with their parents and tried to push their poor style living to me like eat salt fish and more rice because it’s cheaper even if it’s unhealthy. Be grateful. I feel like meltdown. They themselves haven’t even talk to their own parents or see them when they passed as well in last decade.
My only friends stop hanging out with me because I was poor and they started hanging out with my bullies because they share gaming and traveling sports hobbies. They then gave me condescending white eyes and joke pity me. They found my linkedin and ask to connect. I still don't think they know how much the betrayal hurts me. It's definitely not asking for forgiveness. It's more like move on snd stop being so petty. they want to compare?
My parents relationship with my nephew is hurting me. They constantly put me down and tries to say things like don't do that to my sister or her son will end up like me. The rules are don't let him hit puberty early and let him play with girls at young age or it'll stunt his growth. Sleep early eat less meat. There are times they ask themselves why I couldn't be more like my nephew. I really want to say thanks to you two that I lived in a shiitybasement for years. We never went anywhere for fun like amusement park or the movies. I didn't even have consoles or yugioh cards when it was popular. I was ashamed of the to go hang out because I don’t understand pop culture reference or cool enough to try date early. I have no problem with my nephew since I don’t see him often so there no envy or animosity, but when he’s mention or here my parent constantly put me down like it’s my fault and not theirs. They are trash hoarder and never take me out to anywhere consider Normal or fancy like vacation trips or restaurant. Meanwhile, my nephew gets latest switch games, iPad, water park twice a year, swim lesson, art lesson, piano guitar lesson, taekwando lesson, etc and have a normal respectable childhood with friends

Sorry if this story gets haywire... Its a few years old story...
I met a guy online.. We got to know each other, and since we were kind of far apart. We decided to hold the meet up.
I got to know him better and talking to him became a routine. He knows my work schedule, I know his. He will ask me to accompany him on his shifts with video calls or normal calls. I would fall asleep ASAP tho. He knows my family, I know his. He greets me when am home, with texts.
Since I am a teacher, I told him about how my students will question if I have a bf or not. He told me to use his picture as a barrier.. I gladly (Since I had a HUGE crush on him) put him as my wallpaper.
Nevertheless, he was comfort zone at the time BUT we were just friends.
So one day, we decided to meet up . I am quite religious I daresay, but he isn't. On the day we met, he changed some of his attire. I know he has a favourite bracelet and he wears short pants a lot. Like long pants and no bracelets which is kinda forbidden for men in my religion. He is also an avid smoker, he can smoke up to a wholeee box in one day. The whole day we hung out, he only smoked 1 and a half cigarettes.
Something bugged me at the time tho, I took it as a 'red Flag' tho.. He took out his simcard and phone battery at lunch.. I asked him why, he said he wanted to reset his phone.. Its like a routine for him weekly. But I meam, who does it in publiccc! Wouldn't u be scared of losing it? Or misplacing it???
Well, as a fat girl who has zero interest in sports and health, I hatee walking with a passion. Like a 10 min walk will make me complain for the next 24 hours, but with him I walked the wholeee KL, from one place to another for 5 hours !! Surely I was blind! But i was having so much fun for once (Can you tell I was lonely before 🤣🤣)
Well, we went home, seperately. I went home by grab, he demanded I call him all the way and we did.
Well, we continued the same routine and got to know each other much more intimately and I decided to break the ice and confess.. 😁
He only replied "I am sorry". And the next thing I knew he posted a video of a woman, telling him "I love you his name "
The 1 year routine died then and there... I couldn't bring myself to text him or say congratulations ...
He will be in contact with me every 6 months to tell me he still misses me.. And says the day we went out was a date to him. And he will even say he likes me.. The thing is, he is still with his gf 😊.
It has been more or less 7 years.. Now, the 6 months routine still hasn't ended.
Was it my fault for being too late? Or was i being led on?

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
Next >

Chapter 01

-1-
Ethan’s fists pounded the punching bag, sending a rapid series of jabs that landed with resounding thumps, each strike punctuated by ragged breaths. Sweat dripped from his brow, stinging his eyes, but he refused to stop, refused to surrender to the burning in his muscles or the rawness of his knuckles. He remained focused on punching.
Around him, the rest of the boxing team rested, even the coach looked like he needed a breather. But Ethan couldn’t afford to slow down—not with the first round of eliminations looming.
More, Ethan thought, his muscles burning as he threw another combination of jabs and cross punches. More, more, more.
Boxing had never been his choice; it was a path forced upon him by a father with unfulfilled dreams. Yet somewhere along the way, the thrill of the fight had ignited a fire within Ethan—a primal need to test the boundaries of his endurance, to feel alive in a way no textbook could provide.
But now his father lay dying in a hospital bed, and Ethan was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. His muscles burned and his knuckles were raw. But he couldn’t stop.
“Oy, mate, you should take a break.”
Jacob’s voice cut through Ethan’s reverie, and he turned to face his friend, chest heaving. “I can keep going. I’m fine.”
Jacob shook his head, concern etched across his features. “You’re going to end up hurting yourself. Listen, I know you’re worried about the eliminations and your dad, but you’ve got this. You’ll be fine. You’ve trained so hard. Harder than any of us, mate.” Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s not enough,” Ethan stepped away from the punching bag. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean? You’ve improved a ton since you first started, and you’ve gotten to this level faster than anyone else. There’s no way you’re getting cut from the team.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Ethan said, sighing as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.
“Listen, man,” Jacob said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I get that you’re nervous. It’s normal, okay? But I’ve seen you out there. You’re good. Really good. If anything, the rest of us are the ones who should be worried—”
Before Jacob could continue, Ethan’s phone rang, the sound loud in the otherwise silent gym.
Looking at his phone made him frown and excuse himself. The caller ID was a familiar one. With his phone pressed against his ears, he walked down the corridor, leaving the other members of the boxing team behind.
“Hello?” Ethan said into the phone.
Then, his world tilted on his axis.
-2-
Ethan hated funerals.
It was a strange thing to say, and yet, there he was, thinking that exact same thing as he stood at the side, watching as a small crowd gathered around. The smell of freshly turned earth was thick in the air, along with a heavy dose of sorrow and grief. Or maybe that was his imagination; after all, most were likely putting on a show. A wake that lasted all of ten minutes. A quick eulogy. The final plop of dirt onto the polished wood coffin. Then they were gone. Just like that, they were gone.
His father’s funeral was over just like that.
Ethan waited a while longer after all the mourners had dispersed, then finally turned to look at his mother. His mother sat slumped in the front pew of the church; her gaze fixed on the ground. He sat beside his mother silently. She looked older today, like all the fight and life had just seeped from her body. They didn’t speak a word for the longest while, but finally, his mother broke the silence.
“Do you blame me?”
“No,” he said automatically.
You do, a small voice said in the back of his head. Because maybe, if they hadn’t sent him away, he could’ve pursued his dreams...
“Thank you,” his mother said, the relief in her eyes far too apparent. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her hands trembled. She swallowed audibly before she continued. “I was such a stupid little girl when we married. I had no choice but to leave for Dubai because...”
“You don’t need to explain anything.” Ethan looked down at his knuckles. “I understand.”
“He always blamed himself,” she said suddenly, and Ethan frowned. “For not just letting you into civil engineering. For pressuring you into, well, violence.”
Ethan smiled wryly, staring up at the empty rafters overhead.
Such violence, Ethan, a voice whispered into his ears. Focus on your studies, not on hurting people. You’ll have a bright future, I’m sure of it.
Ethan sighed as he felt the memory rise unbidden in his mind. It wasn’t the first time his mother had spoken to him like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.
You can’t always rely on your fists, she would say. Sometimes, words are all you need. They can change lives, even save lives. They can be the difference between a happy life and a miserable one. Remember that.
Yeah, well, she failed to see it wasn’t hurting people he was after, but pushing himself beyond his limits. To prove to himself that he could. To feel the limits of his body, and surpass them.
To feel alive.
“Your father wanted the best for you,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Ethan gave his mother a sad smile. He talked with his mother a little bit after, but eventually, he excused himself.
She hugged him before he left. A tight, almost desperate squeeze that seemed to drag out for longer than it really did. Ethan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond and wasn’t able to think of anything better than giving her a couple of awkward pats on the back.
Then, when somewhere nice, he lit a cigarette. Stupid, useless, and unhealthy, but he had to do something to let off steam or his entire body was going to burst apart like a firecracker.
When it was nearly time for the cigarette to burn itself out, he suddenly got engulfed in bright light. He didn’t think, nor could he; it was just way too fast.
The last thought he had was something along the lines of ‘the fuck?’ before he crashed face-first into space-time itself.
-3-
Ethan slammed his head against the plush velvet pillow, groaning. Post-reincarnation—transmigration?—headaches were a real pain, especially when you woke up in the body of a drunken wastrel named Theodore Lockheart, the most indebted, despised, fucked up noble in the entire bordertowns—lands that were on the border of the world of the living; lands that were under the constant threat of the dead.
He was tired, irritable, and he had a headache so annoying it was almost as if his skull was split open. Not to mention, his nose was throbbing in pain from what he could only guess had been a one-sided beatdown.
Had the Baron gotten beaten to a pulp somehow?
It was possible, after all, Ethan did remember snippets of Theodore’s recent memories—nothing more than that, though. Theodore tended to suit up as a rich merchant. And he’d likely gone to the bar after losing his fortune earlier in the night, and then had likely fucked a wench or two, vented on the poor women, gotten punched and kicked out.
Groaning, Ethan peeled himself out of bed and forced himself to move. He had things he wanted to do today, like sit somewhere nice and contemplate the meaning of existence—or smoke cigarettes. But sadly, he had none, and he despised alcohol.
Strange, Theodore—no, Ethan, thought. Why do I so easily believe in all this? And why am I so easily accepting that I’m this bastard now?
Though the question was there, Ethan found that it didn’t bring up any emotions. It was like an empty sentence in his thoughts, with nothing behind it.
Ding! System Initiating…
Consciousness transferred...
Subject: Ethan
Social integration protocols activated.
Linguistic database uploaded. Communication in all known languages will be facilitated.
Confirmation: Subject has all their memories upon induction. Check.
Disclaimer: This is not a dream simulation. This is a permanent transfer. Subject has been induced to fully believe this reality, but nothing else inside the subject has been altered.
Confirmation: Memories and core identity remain unaltered.
Warning: The subject will perceive everything as real.
Directive: Enjoy the New World. Second chance protocols initiated.
The System has awoken within you. [Nur] is a world unimaginable power awaits. You, Ethan, have the chance to become extraordinary.
A [Quest] approaches!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Sensitivity]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Perception]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Myriad Tongue]!
Ding! Please brace for loss of consciousness!
“What in the god-fucking-damned hell—?” Ethan muttered, then fell unconscious. When Ethan woke up again, a screen flashed in front of him.
Please select your preferred Class...
The screen, Ethan found, didn’t elicit any reaction out of him. It wasn’t shocking, nor unbelievable, it was just as if it was a universal truth he’d come to believe since childhood. Like a phone’s existence, or the internet, perhaps. The fact that he thought that way made him sigh. He just hoped anything else inside him hadn’t been changed.
Ethan looked through the page that appeared in front of him.
[Warrior (Common)]
Function: Frontline combatant
Prerequisite: None
Description: A Common-Ranked Class. Grants basic proficiency with all melee weapon types (sword, spear, ax, etc.)
Specialization Paths: Available after further training and/or meeting certain requirements: [Barbarian], [Knight], [Paladin], [Cavalryman], [Mercenary] (and more)
[Archer (Common)]
Function: Ranged Damage Dealer
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic proficiency with bows and arrows.
Specialization Paths:
Adjacent: Unlockable after further training: [Thief], [Assassin] (and more)
Advanced: Upon reaching specific requirements: [Spirit Archer], [Magic Archer] (and more)
[Mage (Common)]
Function: Ranged Magic User
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic application of magical abilities.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after further study: [Warlock], [Alchemist], [Summoner] (and more)
[Healer (Common)]
Function: Support - Restoration and Enhancement
Prerequisite: A [Faith].
Description: Devoted healer, blessed with divine magic, requires [Faith] in a deity. A healer’s heart heals the spirit of ailing beings, providing great spiritual buffs. Can heal wounds and ailments of allies. Can enhance allied attributes and resistances.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after advanced training (may vary by race or deity): [Temple Priest], [Battle Medic], [Nature Mender] (and more)
After looking through the available Classes, it didn’t take long for Ethan to immediately dismiss both the [Healer] and [Warrior]. [Healer] would be too weak unless he got to its Specialization Paths—not to mention he’d need to have faith in some god, which he did not—and [Warrior] meant he’d need to be close range all the time. Ethan didn’t like risk, thus that idea went to waste as fast as a blade through butter. That left him with two options, and a more or less clear idea of which choice to make.
[Archer] was dismissed for the sole reason that it didn’t appeal to him much, although he was indeed curious as to why it had [Thief] and [Assassin] as its Adjacent Specialization Paths. Regardless, there was only one choice left: Mage—something he’d have chosen anyway given that the system had given him [Magic Sensitivity] and [Magic Perception], although he’d yet to test those skills out. They seemed passive anyway.
Ethan selected his chosen Class.
Congratulations! You are now an [Unranked Mage].
You are capable of casting minor, beginner-level magics.
You can use magical implements and perform incantations with limited versatility.
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Magic Script]!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Elemental Spells]!
Due to your [Magic Perception] and [Magic Sensitivity], the effectiveness of magical spells and skills are now increased by 10%!
“That’s it?” Ethan blinked. “I would’ve expected, I don’t know, for my entire body to feel on fire, or something.”
Not that he ever had that happen in his life. Fiction really put false expectations into his mind.
Theodore Lockheart
[Race: Human]⨽[Rank: G]⨽[Level: 0]
[Class: Mage]⨽[Rank: Unranked]⨽[Level: 0]
[Skills]: Basic Magic Script (Lvl. 1), Elemental Spells (Lvl. 1), Magic Sensitivity (Lvl. 1), Magic Perception (Lvl. 1), Myriad Tongue (Lvl. 1)
[Titles: None]
Ethan sifted through the skills to better understand what he could do now.
Basic Magic Script – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: This skill allows you to understand and write basic magical notation of the world. Connection Effect: [Basic Magic Script] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills [Magic Perception], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Elemental Spells – Level 1
Type: Active
Effect: You can cast basic elemental spells. At this level, your spells are limited in power and complexity.
Magic Sensitivity – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You possess a heightened awareness of magical energies in your immediate surroundings. You can feel faint tingles or experience subtle temperature changes when magic is being used nearby. This ability helps you identify areas with magical activity or sense the presence of magic. However, pinpointing the exact source or nature of the magic might be difficult at this level.
Magic Perception – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can see the underlying runes whenever a spell is cast in front of you. However, deciphering complex spells to view their runes will likely be blurry or misleading at this level. Connection Effect: [Magic Perception] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills, [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Myriad Tongue – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can understand and speak all the languages of this world. This skill allows you to communicate with most of the species you encounter. Complex conversations will likely require further development of this skill. Connection Effect: [Myriad Tongue] has established a Connection with [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you an inherent understanding of the runic language of magic.
Holy... So, this world’s really like a game, huh? There are no stats, though. Why? Ethan rubbed his chin. The skills were nice. Ethan was excited to test his skills out when someone knocked once on the door and entered. “My lord,” said the man Ethan quickly recognized as one of his advisors, Cedric, “I’ve received notice that the duke’s men have begun their journey from the Capital.” He bowed. “They’re coming to collect tax.”
Saying so, Cedric left Ethan to ponder.
Tax? What?
In this world of swords and spells, tax consisted of the rarest of monster parts and materials. Priceless Relics were found in the Deadlands just out the border—lands that were full of dangers of the highest caliber, along with endless rewards. And because these materials and items were all of a higher value, not paying tax could easily put a small town like this into debt, unless the town managed to somehow attract a wealthy and profitable industry or find themselves a noble willing to spend his coin to help their people.
Such a noble couldn’t be Theo, clearly. After all, he was just a run-of-the-mill spoiled brat from a prominent aristocratic family—the typical wastrel born lucky into money and power without ever needing to work a single day in his entire life.
Regardless, the tax was Ethan’s issue now, and he wasn’t ready to deal with it given that Theo already had quite a debt in the first place.
Ethan’s eyes deadened.
Next >
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I am a 31 year old man, I have a good job I make 90k a year at a civil engineering firm, I got the job without a college degree. I'm on a roadmap for upper management there, I do very well at my job. That's all I really have going for me. I don't manage my money well so even as a single guy renting a small place with the 90k in a small college town I am broke all the time. I weigh 285lbs at 6'2" and am already having health problems from my weight and have to take blood pressure medication. I've never had a long term relationship (I have had short ones, not a total beginner). I smoke. I drink on the weekends with friends. I don't get good sleep. I sometimes see the worst in people, I can be very judgmental. When I get angry I say things to people I shouldn't, including people I really care about. The only place I feel competent is at work frankly. I've basically skated by through life with very little effort by just relying on my natural talents which are really only relevant at my job. I'm a programmer and a project manager who leads large conference calls, I'm good at solving little logic problems like the ones that exist in programming and I'm good in meetings I express myself well and can argue with clients or other firms effectively and respectfully and don't really get nervous about talking. My personal life is a mess and sometimes I'd rather just be at work all the time where I am rewarded for being kind of a hard-ass and writing code to solve some problems. Unlike in my personal life I am praised and rewarded at work even though I am just relying on my natural talents there. I wish I had the tenacity and endurance and discipline I see others have in their life. Life is more than just being good at your job, especially when you didn't even work hard to be good at it. I wish I could be kinder, have more compassion for others, take care of my physical health, find a long term romantic relationship, get my finances in order, stuff like that. I want to have kids, I want a wife, I want to afford vacations and a home. I want to know what it's like to be physically fit for once. I want to have more sex and be good at it. I want to learn another language. I want to read more books. I want to live my fucking life, like really live ya know? And I'm not. I'm not asking to be rich and famous, I'm not asking to become a genius. I'm not asking to be remembered when I'm gone. I just want a fulfilling life like everyone else on this rock.
Over the years, ever since I was probably 18 years old till now, I have tried every trick in the book. The X Effect, Atomic Habits, Goleman's "Emotional intelligence", Marc Manson, Cal Newport, Wayne Dyer, habit trackers like TickTick, alarms on my phone, visual reminders all over my house to eat well, take care of myself, blah blah blah. Personal trainers, therapy, drugs like wellbutrin and vyvanse, meditation, journaling, and much more. If there's some self-help thing out there for getting disciplined I've tried it. I have never really once showed up for myself in life. The only times I've worked especially hard is if I'm on a team, if others are relying on my output. I won't put out shitty work, I really won't, and I will stay late or work at home into the wee hours if there are others relying on my output. One of my big goals is I should go finish my college degree so I can make more money but the discipline required to do that while working I know I simply do not have.
I'm kind of looking for anything, any stories any hope from anyone. I am already 31 I feel like if I was going to get it together I would have by now. My performance at work will only get me so far in life, I can't totally rely on it and let it be my only source of pride and happiness. I will end up at 55 single and alone and yea they might pay me super well by then and I'll be some bigshot at the office but I'll be the guy staying late every night because I never made a family, never made my own life outside of work - and I'll be dying early because I never lost the weight, never stopped smoking, never stopped drinking. I can see all this happening now. I want to change but everytime I try to change, a few days in I break. I give myself excuses, or re-frame the problem in such a way that I can have the cheeseburger or go buy a pack of smokes or be late on my car payment or not download the dating apps or not go for a walk or to the gym. I can always think my way around it and justify not doing it in my head. I say shit like: "Tomorrow will be a better day to start the diet because you didn't sleep well your willpower is low today" or "You have like 4 meetings today there is no way you should hit the gym before work you will be too tired towards the end of the day when you really need your brain" or "have some compassion for yourself we approached this all wrong go ahead and buy a pack of cigarettes and we will come up with a more reasonable plan than going cold turkey we will make a plan to stop smoking over time we'll do it tomorrow night" - I can always tell myself some bullshit story or some bullshit lie or I can be having an emotional moment that just overrides everything and I just do whatever the fuck I want to do regardless of my true wants, needs, goals, responsibilities. I'm 31 years old like I said a bunch of times, it's not funny anymore it's getting sad and scary and I am starting to have little hope for the future. I think dark thoughts, sometimes.
Any help or stories are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading.

I am a 31 year old man, I have a good job I make 90k a year at a civil engineering firm, I got the job without a college degree. I'm on a roadmap for upper management there, I do very well at my job. That's all I really have going for me. I don't manage my money well so even as a single guy renting a small place with the 90k in a small college town I am broke all the time. I weigh 285lbs at 6'2" and am already having health problems from my weight and have to take blood pressure medication. I've never had a long term relationship (I have had short ones, not a total beginner). I smoke. I drink on the weekends with friends. I don't get good sleep. I sometimes see the worst in people, I can be very judgmental. When I get angry I say things to people I shouldn't, including people I really care about. The only place I feel competent is at work frankly. I've basically skated by through life with very little effort by just relying on my natural talents which are really only relevant at my job. I'm a programmer and a project manager who leads large conference calls, I'm good at solving little logic problems like the ones that exist in programming and I'm good in meetings I express myself well and can argue with clients or other firms effectively and respectfully and don't really get nervous about talking. My personal life is a mess and sometimes I'd rather just be at work all the time where I am rewarded for being kind of a hard-ass and writing code to solve some problems. Unlike in my personal life I am praised and rewarded at work even though I am just relying on my natural talents there. I wish I had the tenacity and endurance and discipline I see others have in their life. Life is more than just being good at your job, especially when you didn't even work hard to be good at it. I wish I could be kinder, have more compassion for others, take care of my physical health, find a long term romantic relationship, get my finances in order, stuff like that. I want to have kids, I want a wife, I want to afford vacations and a home. I want to know what it's like to be physically fit for once. I want to have more sex and be good at it. I want to learn another language. I want to read more books. I want to live my fucking life, like really live ya know? And I'm not. I'm not asking to be rich and famous, I'm not asking to become a genius. I'm not asking to be remembered when I'm gone. I just want a fulfilling life like everyone else on this rock.
Over the years, ever since I was probably 18 years old till now, I have tried every trick in the book. The X Effect, Atomic Habits, Goleman's "Emotional intelligence", Marc Manson, Cal Newport, Wayne Dyer, habit trackers like TickTick, alarms on my phone, visual reminders all over my house to eat well, take care of myself, blah blah blah. Personal trainers, therapy, drugs like wellbutrin and vyvanse, meditation, journaling, and much more. If there's some self-help thing out there for getting disciplined I've tried it. I have never really once showed up for myself in life. The only times I've worked especially hard is if I'm on a team, if others are relying on my output. I won't put out shitty work, I really won't, and I will stay late or work at home into the wee hours if there are others relying on my output. One of my big goals is I should go finish my college degree so I can make more money but the discipline required to do that while working I know I simply do not have.
I'm kind of looking for anything, any stories any hope from anyone. I am already 31 I feel like if I was going to get it together I would have by now. My performance at work will only get me so far in life, I can't totally rely on it and let it be my only source of pride and happiness. I will end up at 55 single and alone and yea they might pay me super well by then and I'll be some bigshot at the office but I'll be the guy staying late every night because I never made a family, never made my own life outside of work - and I'll be dying early because I never lost the weight, never stopped smoking, never stopped drinking. I can see all this happening now. I want to change but everytime I try to change, a few days in I break. I give myself excuses, or re-frame the problem in such a way that I can have the cheeseburger or go buy a pack of smokes or be late on my car payment or not download the dating apps or not go for a walk or to the gym. I can always think my way around it and justify not doing it in my head. I say shit like: "Tomorrow will be a better day to start the diet because you didn't sleep well your willpower is low today" or "You have like 4 meetings today there is no way you should hit the gym before work you will be too tired towards the end of the day when you really need your brain" or "have some compassion for yourself we approached this all wrong go ahead and buy a pack of cigarettes and we will come up with a more reasonable plan than going cold turkey we will make a plan to stop smoking over time we'll do it tomorrow night" - I can always tell myself some bullshit story or some bullshit lie or I can be having an emotional moment that just overrides everything and I just do whatever the fuck I want to do regardless of my true wants, needs, goals, responsibilities. I'm 31 years old like I said a bunch of times, it's not funny anymore it's getting sad and scary and I am starting to have little hope for the future. I think dark thoughts, sometimes.
Any help or stories are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading.

I am a 31 year old man, I have a good job I make 90k a year at a civil engineering firm, I got the job without a college degree. I'm on a roadmap for upper management there, I do very well at my job. That's all I really have going for me. I don't manage my money well so even as a single guy renting a small place with the 90k in a small college town I am broke all the time. I weigh 285lbs at 6'2" and am already having health problems from my weight and have to take blood pressure medication. I've never had a long term relationship (I have had short ones, not a total beginner). I smoke. I drink on the weekends with friends. I don't get good sleep. I sometimes see the worst in people, I can be very judgmental. When I get angry I say things to people I shouldn't, including people I really care about. The only place I feel competent is at work frankly. I've basically skated by through life with very little effort by just relying on my natural talents which are really only relevant at my job. I'm a programmer and a project manager who leads large conference calls, I'm good at solving little logic problems like the ones that exist in programming and I'm good in meetings I express myself well and can argue with clients or other firms effectively and respectfully and don't really get nervous about talking. My personal life is a mess and sometimes I'd rather just be at work all the time where I am rewarded for being kind of a hard-ass and writing code to solve some problems. Unlike in my personal life I am praised and rewarded at work even though I am just relying on my natural talents there. I wish I had the tenacity and endurance and discipline I see others have in their life. Life is more than just being good at your job, especially when you didn't even work hard to be good at it. I wish I could be kinder, have more compassion for others, take care of my physical health, find a long term romantic relationship, get my finances in order, stuff like that. I want to have kids, I want a wife, I want to afford vacations and a home. I want to know what it's like to be physically fit for once. I want to have more sex and be good at it. I want to learn another language. I want to read more books. I want to live my fucking life, like really live ya know? And I'm not. I'm not asking to be rich and famous, I'm not asking to become a genius. I'm not asking to be remembered when I'm gone. I just want a fulfilling life like everyone else on this rock.
Over the years, ever since I was probably 18 years old till now, I have tried every trick in the book. The X Effect, Atomic Habits, Goleman's "Emotional intelligence", Marc Manson, Cal Newport, Wayne Dyer, habit trackers like TickTick, alarms on my phone, visual reminders all over my house to eat well, take care of myself, blah blah blah. Personal trainers, therapy, drugs like wellbutrin and vyvanse, meditation, journaling, and much more. If there's some self-help thing out there for getting disciplined I've tried it. I have never really once showed up for myself in life. The only times I've worked especially hard is if I'm on a team, if others are relying on my output. I won't put out shitty work, I really won't, and I will stay late or work at home into the wee hours if there are others relying on my output. One of my big goals is I should go finish my college degree so I can make more money but the discipline required to do that while working I know I simply do not have.
I'm kind of looking for anything, any stories any hope from anyone. I am already 31 I feel like if I was going to get it together I would have by now. My performance at work will only get me so far in life, I can't totally rely on it and let it be my only source of pride and happiness. I will end up at 55 single and alone and yea they might pay me super well by then and I'll be some bigshot at the office but I'll be the guy staying late every night because I never made a family, never made my own life outside of work - and I'll be dying early because I never lost the weight, never stopped smoking, never stopped drinking. I can see all this happening now. I want to change but everytime I try to change, a few days in I break. I give myself excuses, or re-frame the problem in such a way that I can have the cheeseburger or go buy a pack of smokes or be late on my car payment or not download the dating apps or not go for a walk or to the gym. I can always think my way around it and justify not doing it in my head. I say shit like: "Tomorrow will be a better day to start the diet because you didn't sleep well your willpower is low today" or "You have like 4 meetings today there is no way you should hit the gym before work you will be too tired towards the end of the day when you really need your brain" or "have some compassion for yourself we approached this all wrong go ahead and buy a pack of cigarettes and we will come up with a more reasonable plan than going cold turkey we will make a plan to stop smoking over time we'll do it tomorrow night" - I can always tell myself some bullshit story or some bullshit lie or I can be having an emotional moment that just overrides everything and I just do whatever the fuck I want to do regardless of my true wants, needs, goals, responsibilities. I'm 31 years old like I said a bunch of times, it's not funny anymore it's getting sad and scary and I am starting to have little hope for the future. I think dark thoughts, sometimes.
Any help or stories are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading.