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I 22F and my bf 25M are currently on a break for the week. I’m doing my uni finals at the moment, and I have been a bit stressed. I noticed my bf wasn’t really talking to me the way he normally would and I asked him what’s up. He sent me a really long text detailing now he thinks we are never on the same page (1), he keeps thinking about how I read his diary (2), I called him my ex’s name by acccident (3), and he is stressed because I am frustrated about my exams (4). I’ll detail these more now.

1. He wants kids. I met him online and told him in my profile I was strictly against kids. Recently, I have come around about that, but I am still unsure. I’m not against them but I have explained I would need to do what I want and live my life a bit and have a house and job before I could decide that. I am also a child of divorce and saw how that really affected my mum, and I explained to him how that also put me on the fence. He said he doesn’t want to be with someone for years and it feel like a “waste” if it doesn’t work out kids wise and he doesn’t wanna start dating in his 30s. Another thing is travel. I had told him I would perhaps like to travel after uni, but I am forgoing that. I said it would be nice to go away on holiday like his other friend couples do maybe once a year, but he thought that I was insinuating we MUST go this year. I explained that I wasn’t expecting him to, because he wants to save for a house (rent), and he can’t get any hols anyway. He was really silent after that as if we had “argued” and in his eyes that was an argument he brought up this week. I didn’t raise my voice at him or argue, rather said that wasn’t what I meant and explained further.
   
2. This one is bad, I know. I was in a really bad place mentally, and I thought that something was wrong with him since he sometimes suffered from anxiety and dealing with the future. I had only read the last entry he put in and immediately after I read it I told him as I felt so guilty betraying him. I’ve apologised profusely and I’ve been going to counselling to help my own anxiety and depression. I wanna note that I’m not like that around him, it’s mainly when I’m by myself so he doesn’t really see that side of me. In the moment I was genuinely worried for him. I know it still makes what I did bad.
   
3. This one really tears me up every day. We were playing around, and instead of saying his name in a playful annoyed way I said my exes. He immediately shut down and wouldn’t talk to me or hear me out. In fact, he kicked me out of his house. I get that what I said was not nice to hear, and upon talking to my counsellor she said it was a common thing to do, and doesn’t mean I was thinking about my ex. I wanna say that I DO NOT think about them and have blocked and deleted them from my life. In doing that however, I did begin to spend more time with my gay bestie who happens to have the same name as my ex and I happened to talk to on that day. I really believe it was a mistake and I thought he was trying to move past it but he keeps bringing it up.
   
4. He doesn’t like to be around me when I’m stressed. When I’m frustrated, I’m not angry at him or raise my voice at him or be passive aggressive, it’s more so internalised at myself. He was offering me advice this year and feels like because I didn’t stick to a schedule to complete my uni tasks, I was ignoring him. I work last minute, it’s how I have always worked and I get great result. Not to mention, in his final uni year he was the same as me. I dont really get this argument to be honest.
   

I also wanna note that he told me he wasn’t sure if this is the “real” me or if I was on my best behaviour at the start of the relationship. Everything was great at the start, but in my first week of uni my grandmother does, I then had to have surgery 2 months later to remove breast tumours (non cancerous), and I guess that and uni stress really caught up with me. He saw that I was doing better by going to the gym and feeling better about myself, but said that I snap back at times and don’t like myself. I think this is normal as some people have off days but I think he’s annoyed by it.
Also, at the start of our relationship he was really anxious about us, and I helped him through it. He was also stressed about jobs, and I had helped him prep and make a new cv as I’m good at that stuff and he got job offers. In fact at one point he said to me that he thought I was with him for money. I had more in savings than him at that point and paid for things/went 50/50. I am also lined up for a higher earning job than him when I’m out of uni. So, I guess I’m asking what should I do about this? I genuinely love him but my parents have said he’s not treating me nicely, and my friends have said the only thing that I have done wrong is read his diary.

Hey there, I am a dog handler who took some time off to consider my poor mental health. At 4:50PM I was given notice that I was invited for a Performance Improvement Plan next week and will be reviewed Monday and Tuesday with the possibility of the problems raised changing before Wednesday (when the meeting is set).
The problems laid out in the proposal are extremely vague and to do with general dog control and a hoarding mentality (focusing too much on the dogs under my direct care instead of the ones under the care of other coworkers). I wasn't aware these were areas that I was failing in. Nowhere is there any mention of specific instances.
The business owner is the one carrying out this process, they are not on site day-to-day (maybe once every couple of months). I didn't know my day-to-day manager had these issues with my performance. Though I know the dogs aren't always obedient and in the employee documentation is explained that dogs should listen to a multitude of commands and never disobey, I feel as if this is unrealistic. I look after 10-16 different dogs each day (I pick and drop them off), as well as the 20-30 other dogs (and 2 people doing the same job I am). Some dogs come consistently 2-3 times a week, others are once a week or every other week. I am trained as a dog trainer and my role is a "handler".
I realize that I am more nervous around the owner, there has been a lot of problem with dogs being too noisy (a specific person/s relating to a nearby retirement home complained to the point of the council coming in and monitoring us, we passed an official inspection but it's become a hot-button issue). The owner expects the dogs to not bark at all which the manager and my coworkers don't even attempt when the owner is not around as it's not feasible (the manager cannot stand up for us though).
Another problem that is laid out is the lack of me being an "Alpha". I'm not sure how well versed you are with contemporary dog training so I apologize, but being an Alpha is widely considered an outdated way of treating dogs based on incorrect beliefs about packs of wolves(as well as incorrect understanding of what "dominance" means when it comes to dogs). As wikipedia mentions all professional dogs are considered to use positive reinforcement, it's what the best practices of the MPI for dog handling recommends, the SPCA and the Association for Dog Professional Trainers of New Zealand (PIP mentions that dog treats cannot be used, which is the most popular accepted form of behavioral management).
My owner has no certifications that I know of, and occasionally hires a "dog sage" (has no certifications, possibly worked as a vet nurse, or at least around them at one point) and they both consider being an Alpha as okay (and enjoy "dominating" dogs). They They have both encouraged me to physically hurt the animals to get them to "submit" this includes pinching ears, squeezing paws to the point of it being "uncomfortable" for the dogs, as well as kneeing dogs when they jump up.
I assume this is a point of contention as their public documents emphasizes that they are not trainers (nor anybody that works here) and that no physical discipline techniques will be used with handling. However are internal employee documents list the methods I mentioned before, and I have been encouraged to do this to train the dogs. (There is a mention in the employee documents that mention a handler can use the methods they think is best, which, along with my manager agreeing with my methods is probably why I've managed to work here for a couple of years). I've mentioned my discomfort at these techniques but it is seen as cowardice or over-empathy instead of what I was learned to do during my course certification and have read about since.
I've been nervous around my boss ever since the first meeting when they visited me and repeatability shouted at me to raise my voice at a dog (even though the internal documents say that a raised voice should not be used). They sent an email to everybody later on saying sorry for being harsh as they were experiencing family problems.
All the public facing documents talk about encouraging dogs to be social and have fun and grow with them but I'm constantly pressured to keep them quiet, most toys were removed to lower their excitability and I just feel like I'm a prison guard. I mentioned poor mental health and I am looking into getting a GP and treated for a worsened anxious/depressive state (wanted to with my time off but this whole thing was a big surprise, I realize PIP is meant to be helpful but a lot of online say I'm about to be fired which is pretty scary).
I have a good relationship with my day-to-day manager but I'm not sure they'll stand up for me.
My questions are:

• Can I ask for the PIP parts to be more specific? I mean how is "knowing dog behavior" and "being an alpha" supposed to be defended? There were no specific instances where I have failed anything mentioned in the any of these documents. I realise a PIP should be more exact but how realistic is that, aren't a lot of job responsibilities vague?
  
• If the problems laid out are just from my owners sparse observations, is that okay?
  
• Part of the training suggested is with the owner to improve my ability to control dogs, I don't think I'll feel comfortable around them enough to improve. and I know I definitely won't agree with some of their techniques, can I ask for them to pay for an accredited trainer? (as well as only they're only suggesting having a day of training with them every 2 weeks, then being reviewed after a 6 weeks).
  
• Should I bring up my concerns about the problems they've laid out before the meeting?
  
• Can the concerns be valid against me if they involve problems that other employees are going through? (like keeping them quiet).
  
• If this situation doesn't go well I'm quite worried about what I'll do, I understand WINZ standown is 13 weeks for quitting or being dismissed. Can this be reduced for my situation? I don't have any savings to last weeks without a wage. I hope I've misjudged the situation and I will get a "good" PIP, I'm just really worried right now.
  

I apologise for the length of my post, feel free to ask any questions.

Hi guys badly need your thoughts. Things getting heavier day by day and I am losing hope na talaga. Kung saan saan na ako nag apply, all rejected. I tried online jobs pero hindi ko alam kung papaano mag sisimula. Hindi ko alam kung kailan dadating ang trabahong para sa akin. I am a strong believer in Gods will and this time I know he is testing my patience and guilty ako for rushing him nahihiya na kasi ako sa parents ko hindi man lang ako makapagbigay ng kakaunting tulong sa kanila pero good thing is hindi nila ako prine pressure but I pressured my self a lot. Naranasan niyo ba rin ba noon yung nararanasan ko ngayon? 😭

I went through a really traumatic event at the end of last year and prior I got referred to EMDR althought the waiting list is really long, I've realised I have PTSD and from analysing my behaviours and past C-PTSD seems very likely.
Whilst in trapped in this traumatic situation I got into a relationship with someone in my friend group but I knew her for only a short period. It was a really good period and they helped me a lot with the initial processing of my trauma. She was a really good person however I think she had her own issues and my codependency and her future plans didn't align with god knows what I wanted to do. We broke up at the end of March and I was devastated.
I was then processing this whilst the traumatic incident. We had the same friend group and one of them I realise now because they have a fulltime job, live around the corner from my ex and were best friends longer that we were, always met up with my ex. But at the time I didn't see as rationally like I do now. They never got into contact with me first or invited me to things but I guess that's a friend group with a breakup in the middle. I heard incidents of my ex sleeping with people almost every weekend after the breakup which hurt to my core cause she said she didnt think about sex much when we were together. I guess I kind of felt like everything was a lie? But we weren't together anymore so whilst my hurt was valid it's not like it was any of my business so it was just what it was and hurt.
I got invited to one thing because I'd pushed to try hang out with my friend who's hers too. Whilst I was asleep on the couch at hers, she brought someone in and slept with them and I was awake. This hurt to my core.
I ended up speaking up about it and had a talk about it. I was really upset over it still but it was what it was. I don't think I had processed it properly at this point and still had hurt.
After this they all hung out and I would see this but not be invited to any of them. I felt completetly abandoned by them both, especially with them knowing the trauma I had encountered and initially being there for me, I think I had a traumatic bond with them as a new support system. And it felt like my whole world was crumbling away.
I created my final Uni project about my trauma processing, and posted online about it as it was a film I made and a screening. I saw this as a celebration of how far I'd come because I initally was on the verge of dropping out at the start of the year with everything, but I perservered. Our mutual friend didn't reply to any of these and it really hurt because I saw the film as a celebration and liberation from this trauma. I felt thrown away and forgotten about. I was fighting suicidal thoughts everyday and my mental health was not there at all. My ex had actually replied saying yes, but I wasn't sure how I felt about this because of all the old stuff with hearing them sleep with people.
I then met some other friends. I had all this hurt inside me but decided not to talk about it. Until one of them asked me what had happened between me and my ex. I explained everything from my perspective and my devastation about how abandoned I felt after this trauma. I feel bad because I should have kept some things like the sex life private but I was unloading so much hurt, I had no support system and looked at these guys thinking "yes these friends can be my new people, I can explain this and get their opinion cause I don't know what to do about the film thing". She got into my head saying my ex had lied about one of the things not being consensual and I got really in my head about this and upset because I thought "she might have lied about that to my face after knowing everything I had went through",
I ended up holding the film thing and neither my ex or friend came, I cried all morning of this. Then the people I talked about the devastation with who said they'd come, didn't show up either. They had gone to a house party to drink instead. Hurting more to the core. I spent time with myself after this focusing on my work and realised how bad these abandonment soul wounds had warped into this feeling of utter abandonment when maybe at the time I should have reached out to my inital friend group. I journalled about CPTSD and realised a lot of past things that contributed to the intense emotions I felt.
Then it comes to the friend who was friends with my ex's birthday. I decided to get them some gifts and gave them to them as I didn't want to ruin a connection that helped me so much at the start of the year. It was a nice chat and I realised everything had been in my head and I should have reached out to this initial support system whilst I was undergoing these abandonment thoughts.
They held celebrations and I didn't get invited to any of them because they said they had anxiety of something happened (probably because I had spoke up about the sleeping with someone whilst I was in the house) but the person who didn't show up to the film to drink attended.
I'm pretty sure they talked about me and my ramble and expression of all this hurt but it was warped in a way that made me just look like I was chatting shit rather than suffering with abandonment wounds and hurt by feeling like they didn't care for me at all now I was irrelvant to my ex.
Ever since they've been off with me, I sent a message to our group chat to say I was anxious about anything being tarnished post the breakup because of all the emotions I was facing. I am off their close friends list and messages ignored. I think they hate me. Which hurts so much because I kind of just brought to reality what I had already felt without realising. I feel exhiled and I feel really empty. I've faced so much loss for so long and helpless. I've been completely alone with no proper support system. I feel really horrible because I never have any malice. I loved everyone so deeply and this hurt me and my soul wounds.
I don't know what to do, I'm trying my hard to get on with my life and focus on myself, but I wake up feeling dread and empty everyday - only staying alive for my family. I'm trying to create a better life for myself and have gotten myself out of the house, reading, a new job, making art but my soul feels so torn up. I am trying to get therapy but I went in very suicidal last week and got told the typical things like take a bath, have a tea etc. The EMDR is 2yrs and I can't afford private therapy at the minute.
I guess posting on here I just want someone to hear my story and thoughts and offer any guidance or support, because I don't know what to do anymore. I'm really hurt to my core.
Thank you for reading my story.

I had a lot of food for thought in the past week. To be fair, the suspicion that I could be AuDHD has been rummaging in my brain for quite some time now, but it took a talk with my co-worker who was recently diagnosed with Autism for me to really dig deeper. She is very high-functioning and high-masking, but we share so many traits in various aspects that it kind of just clicked for me.
I then spoke to my mum on Friday and asked her if she thinks it possible and funnily enough, she instantly said that it is extremely likely based on my difficulties in social scenarios and stimuli. She is a care worker and has completed many courses on autism due to her job, so hearing that made me feel extremely validated. I am currently only diagnosed with ADHD because I didn't bring up the possibility of autism at that point.
My symptoms are probably on the lower end of the spectrum. It is very hard to find resources online that are written specifically for women with AuDHD. So I thought to post here and see if people diagnosed with both can relate or if I'm just completely off the mark.
For a long time I didn't really do well in groups of people. They overwhelm and overstimulate me if I am not in a setting of people who don't share my special interests. Other times I simply just am.... Extremely uninterested in talking to people who don't like what I like. The point my mum highlighted was that I always avoided social interaction, that talking to people made me extremely anxious, that I never "fit in". I know that something like this can be attributed to general anxiety or social anxiety, but for me the biggest issue is always that I simply don't know how to engage with people because I don't know how to be like them. Small talk doesn't do much for me. I learned to do it to be polite, because that's the social norm, but I don't care about it at all. I always just want to talk about my special interests and that's why it's easier for me to be social at, for example, comic cons and stuff. Because that's the only place where I feel like I can be myself. If I am forced to talk to "normal" people I feel out of place and extremely uncomfortable. I have to play a role, but always with the sense that I am an imposter.
Then there's eye contact. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable to look at a person's face when I am talking to them. I can't pinpoint why, but eye contact makes me squirm and cringe and I don't like it at all. I also force myself to do it now because again, it's kind of the norm.
My special interests absorb me and it's usually all I think about. I have always been a daydreamer, living in the world I am currently absorbed by. My partner is very likely on the spectrum too and luckily we share the same special interests, so that is an absolute blessing because he is the only person in my life I really don't have to mask with.
I have been stimming since I was a child, and textures are an especially important part for me. I always need to touch something with texture, even now.
But there's certain textures and smells that make me really uncomfortable. Oily or slimy things in particular. For the longest time I was unable to moisturise my skin because the feeling of cream is a big no for me. Therefore I've also hardly ever used sunscreen because the feeling AND smell is horrible for me. I apologise for the TMI but I struggle extremely with giving oral sex due to that reason too. I can't deal with the texture of certain bodily fluids and it makes me feel awful because my partner became insecure about it before. I tried to explain why to him, but I don't know how you explain something like that.
Empathy is a difficult subject. I always thought I was an extremely empathetic person, because I'm always there for other people and do what I can do help them. But if I really dig deep, I don't know if I truly ever understood someone's emotions in the way neurotypical people might. Big emotions make me uncomfortable because I don't know how to react. So it is likely my trying to comfort others was a way to help someone stop feeling these big feelings, so that it no longer makes me feel awkward. It sounds horrible, I know. That said, being empathetic is a lot easier when it happens on the internet, because I'm not directly next to someone who is crying. I also don't have any trouble crying at movies or stuff, and I am extremely against justice or harm against vulnerable groups (be that animals or people) and my empathy absolutely kicks in when I see injustice or harm against them. It is really tricky, and I don't know how to explain it.
However I think due to my ADHD I never struggled when my routine gets interrupted, because I'm so used to not having one. I am definitely stuck in ways to do stuff - I can't creatively think outside of the box and have to do things a certain way, be it at work or with my hobbies, and that places a huge barrier for me, because I feel like it prevents me from progressing. I did have emotional outbursts before when plans got interrupted I've prepared for in my head. But generally I can be quite spontaneous (or rather impulsive, if we're being honest) without trouble.
Sorry this got really long, but I'd be interested in hearing your stories and if you can relate. I'm probably gonna pursue a diagnosis eventually just to have a definitive answer and to be able to say "ah, this is why I am the way I am".

I live in a country bordering Schengen area and this is my profile:

1. Irregular immigrant. Every 30 days I go out for 1 day, and that keeps going for several years.
2. No job. Only occasional side hustle online.
3. No money. No comment on that. Living abroad is more expensive because you pay for rent and immigration lawyers.
4. Deported. From the country where I live irregularly. The police thought I was an irregular immigrant. They had no legal grounds, because technically I did not violate anything. The decision was successfully appealed.
5. Sanctioned country. Moreover, I cannot return there.
6. No ties. No family, no property, nothing.

I think that's more than enough to conclude I should not be allowed into the EU.
Nevertheless, I frequently go there and violate nothing, have no plans to request asylum, etc.
At the same time, many people with really good applications get their visas rejected.
From my point of view, that is not fair, because I am not a better person compared to them.
Logically, even having much better profiles, they are much more likely to break the rules? I.e. a university professor from Pakistan on average would cause more problems than an Eastern-European bum with 200 EUR on bank account?

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Hi, I have been reading through my notes, correspondence with my psych and reacquainted myself with this subreddit having made a little bit of progress. I realise how deeply personal and different our work with schema therapy can be. It is a fraught process that is really hard work at times. Having made unexpected progress though, I thought maybe it would be helpful to describe parts of my context, not so much that people find it familiar or relatable, but moreso that people grab the toolset that schema therapy gives you and run with it in your own way.
Background: It's probably been just over fourth months of fairly intensive schema therapy. I am in the fortunate situation of having regular appointments with a clinical psychologist. I would say I had two points where I generated schemas. First one was the same as everyone else: Early childhood. Second one was 17-21 when I became effectively bedridden due to chronic illness.
When I have talked about this second period, I describe it as "Having to rebuild who I was from scratch, entirely based around energy efficiency". I remember staring into the pitch blackness of my bedroom during this time, absolutely flawed that the one part of me that seemed to function right was what Schema Therapy might describe as "Demanding Critic". This would have been 18-19 years ago so I had no idea about schema therapy at all, I just had this constant internal dialogue tearing strips off me for not trying harder, not getting up, not fixing myself. I was completely exhausted otherwise, but this damn thing was as active as ever? What the hell, why was it the last thing standing? It was so different from the rest of me. "If you know how to fix everything, be my guest, I'm in your hands, here's the keys!" I remember thinking. Alarmingly, the internal dialog responded: "Fine, I will". "Good fucking luck" I thought, and passed out for several hours. I didn't realise it, but I had just given Demanding Critic a parental role.
Demanding Critic used a process of elimination to tear apart, kludge, re-engineer and jerry-rig me from someone who slept for 16-18 hours a day out of necessity into someone with a degree, a house, a family, a part-time job. It took a while. It wasn't easy. It's amazing what can happen when you give seething self-hatred the keys to your entire self. Punitive critic used to be a thing, but had it's parts ripped out and reconfigured for completely different purposes. Entire ways to simulate being a conscious, involved person in social situations were constructed. I trained myself to do very complex tasks by muscle memory so I could do them while completely exhausted. The complex effects of depressive episodes could be filtered and rewired to emulate happiness. Fatalistic pessimism was employed towards emulating initiative and drive. Their logics and mechanisms were set to fire off automatically according to the myriad of different contexts I found myself in, so I didn't have to consciously engage in the moment, I could just react according to programming. The "machines" as I called them were fine tuned over years. But it seems that entire parts of myself were deactivated having been deemed too difficult to regulate, or too energy intensive. Demanding Critic was as brutal at he was creative. Entire emotional spectrums were pulverised, or at best used as catalysts for the activation of certain mechanics. They weren't properly experienced, because that used up too much energy, and I couldn't trust myself to make it through the day. Same with speculative, ill-defined senses like 'Hope'. It wasn't worth the effects of disappointment. No one could know how much pain I was in, or how much I was really suffering, or how exhausted I really was. Press on you stupid meat-bag. In your state what good is hope or despair? You'd be a poor judge of either. Press on! Hurry up and succeed. It doesn't matter what has happened to you, what people say or do to you, you can barely feel it above the pain anyway. MOVE. MOVE. MOVE.
This process was refined until a semblance of normativity took place externally, and internally I had acclimated to the new approaches that were by now a pretty seamless, responsive system. Something still wasn't right though, and with investigation came the ASD/ADHD diagnosis, then the CPTSD diagnosis. Once again unto the breech, I pushed myself to understand and recover as best I could. Except doing so meant realising what was happening around me, what interpersonal boundaries were, how I was being treated by my loved ones, everything that had really happened to me for thirty-odd years.
Kaboom.
In the aftermath I'm in a difficult, but stable situation, and undergoing schema therapy. Learning about the modes my therapist asked me to talk about the ones I identified. Demanding Critic spoke directly through the keyboard as an intense character: The Machinist. It became obvious that the system of schema therapy lent itself to treating modes as characters within a narrative, and I have just ran with it. The Machinist, interestingly enough, set down his tools and deactivated many of his machines, because if my Therapist and I found a "Better Solution", he wanted in on it, being fundamentally benevolent, and concerned with a Successful Result. Without Schema Therapy lending itself to narrative and mythos, I doubt I could have so easily deactivated the system of "machinery" required to prop me up. It's led to all kinds of shocking discoveries: The missing (No longer presumed dead) Happy Child that has been carefully hidden away amongst the deactivated components of myself. The fact that I lived entirely in the Past or the Future. The present was deemed "Too energy consumptive". I didn't know whether I had a "Healthy Adult Mode", but weirdly The Machinist could fill that roll sometimes but obviously had his limitations. Then out of the void, deactivated parts of me started to come back online. Something started to assert itself in the Present. It was very interested in emotions. Instead of casting them aside and pushing past them to get on with what i was supposed to be doing, it insisted I experience them, decode them and experiment with them. New experiments in the real-time interaction with people were enacted, with the emotional fallout, good and bad, further experimented with. This present-based-thing has been curiously self-compassionate, and has guided me through the difficulties and risks of fully engaging in real time with my emotional spectrum when relating with others, my work, and my life. All for the sake of her experiments. She is The Scientist. She is getting all kinds of results and recording all kinds of functions I had no idea I was capable of. The Machinist is head over heels in love with her, having watched her working over the least two weeks. She's kinda started flirting with him, allowing a desire for perfection to be felt over some work I was doing. "Show me what you can do". I consciously disparaged the desire for perfection, looked down and my consciousness was shocked to discover The Machinist had taken over my motor skills and indeed had made something perfectly, and was having fun. It seems I have two self re-parents.
Now, it's bonkers to read, I'm sure. I apologise. But it's working. It really is fucking working. Take what you can from schema therapy and run with it. Make it yours, whatever that means for you. It's gonna be weird. It's gonna be wild. I reckon the easiest way to engage with it has to be it's propensity for character and narrative, but maybe the path of least resistance for you is some other aspect of it I can't detect.

Long time lurker here. When I first started preparing for the GMAT, seeing where a top MBA could lead you, I made it my life’s goal to get into a top program. I could easily devote 10 hours everyday into preparing for the applications.
However, I’ve noticed over the past 5-6 months that I am nowhere near as motivated and determined to get into a top program. Multiple online articles and posts highlight one thing. A top MBA is just not that attractive anymore and even T10 grads are not guaranteed anything, even though a while ago you could easily pull 200k+ right after graduation.
I can’t even fathom finishing grad school and not having a job with 200k-300k of debt in a HCOL country where a stay beyond the 3 year mark is anything but guaranteed. Guys, this is real life, I don’t want to get sucked into a shitload of debt that will follow me forever if circumstances don’t change, just for drinking the kool kid aid. Curious to hear others thoughts.

B.voc courses ko log online bada valuable batate hai. Saying its the next big thing, makes candidate job ready, industry updated courses. But is it considered good ? Matlab resume may kuch value hogi overall kaisa course hai.

in my first relationship at 18 i was deep “in love” and convinced the person was perfect, they were mentally ill, wanted me as a fix and dropped me when they realized it didn’t work. dumped me via a textand turned essentially everyone who knew us mutually against me (small college). it flipped my view of life and myself as a person to being very dark, i didn’t want to be alive or care about my future anymore, i didn’t “have anyone” around anymore, so i dropped out. later lost my job too.
i’m supposed to be graduating right now, i tried to hard to get the scholarships i had because my options were limited otherwise. college was supposed to be my path out of the way i grew up and it was bliss and i threw it away. now im behind on a worthless online degree doing nothing with my life and despite the block function social media has kept me informed that this person is living the dreams i used to have. the city, the freedom, the job, the lifestyle, all of it.
how did we switch places and ruining my life somehow gave her the solutions?
i’ve tried to move forward and just keep failing and failing and im bitter and exhausted.

We go to the same college and we work the same job on campus. I’ve(19F)been working with him(20M) for a few months now, but I never noticed him, like NOTICED him until a few weeks ago. That’s when I started crushing on him.
He’s intelligent, funny, stylish, athletic, and just overall someone with good energy. Anyhow a few weeks ago we had a lunch break ( we never get any but we had things going on at work that day) and he asked if I wanted to go do something, we ended up going shopping and got food for a few hours. He drove and yk when they reverse and put their hand behind the seat (😩) lol.
The following day he asked what style he should get, and I showed him photos and then he smoothly asked oh wait do I have your number, and hands me his phone. He already had my instagram tho which he asked for a month prior, but he asked me and this other male co-worker in a group setting to let’s all connect online but the other co-worker didn’t have SM so he only added me so this interaction don’t really count.
Anyways I could be delusional and misinterpreting his friendly remarks but man oh man he’s been on my mind for no reason. He talks to me about what he did over the weekend, what his plans are, and asks me a lot of questions about making certain decisions. He’s so charming.

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   • Developing effective social media content strategies.
   • Content planning, scheduling, and management.
   • Visual and written content creation best practices.
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   • Facebook: Organic and paid strategies, page management, and Facebook Ads.
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   • Twitter: Building a Twitter presence, tweet strategies, Twitter Ads.
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Hi guys. I'm struggling with confessional OCD... 2 years ago when I was undiagnosed and still in university, there were small cases of academic dishonesty involved. Like doing online quizzes with friends etc. It was an open secret that everyone was doing it but I went and confessed to like 6 professors that I cheated in their tests...
Fast forward now I find myself in a similar situation. The other day I was taking an online quiz for a work related certification and although the quiz said closed book, I actually had my notes opened to refer...
I don't understand why this incident in particular has such a big impact suddenly, especially when I have been "forced" to cheat by my boss at a previous job.
Now I'm once again thinking that confessing is the only way to relieve my anxiety. Unlike last time, I now know that is disastrous for my career but can't shake this anxiety off.
Can anyone please help me?

Hi everyone.
My name is Isaac. I am 26 years old and I live in Frankston, Victoria.
For almost the past decade (ever since leaving high school), I have gone back and forth between being employed in work and job hunting both in person and online and I am honestly so sick of it. It has severely impacted my mental health when 95% or more of the jobs that you apply for you either never hear back from or if you do, you are just told that you were unsuccessful with no reason given as to why. It really makes you feel like you are worthless and they don;t even give you any constructive criticism as to what you can do to improve for the next job that you go for. And somehow, doing it is even worse in person when you physically hand someone a resume, then turn around as you're leaving the store to watch them literally throw it in the garbage.
As far as the jobs I HAVE had in the last 10 years, I have done everything from call center work to delivery driving to factory work to a little bit of retail and tons of other stuff that I can't even think of right now.
Those were just the jobs that I had though. As far as what I specialize in, my last two jobs were working for Telstra selling phones and mobile/internet plans in an actual store and Aussie Broadband in their Residential Customer Service department. I was let go from Telstra after 6 months because I wasn't meeting their incredibly unrealistic KPI's for such a tiny store and I voluntarily left Aussie because several of my supervisors and managers there were not treating me very well. I did actually enjoy doing both jobs however as it was in a field and an area that I actually have an interest in, that being the internet and technology in general.
As for what I want to do next, I recently applied for a job as a field service technician for the NBN doing Fibre to the Premises upgrades in peoples homes which I already know alot about as I dealt with the NBN pretty much on a daily basis both at Telstra and Aussie Broadband.
Just a little bit about me personally though, I do happen to have Asperger's Syndrome and ADHD. I was diagnosed with both in my early primary school years and even though the conditions affected me far more and worse in my primary and high school years, it doesn't as much anymore, although it still does occasionally. I still do suffer from anxiety and depression every now and then and have the odd panic attack here and there too. I am not medicated for it the way I used to be when I was in school because I feel like I can fight it on my own with regular therapy sessions. I also did not like who I was when I was heavily dosed on so much medication. It turned me into a zombie like robot and took away everything that made me who I am as a person.
Because of this, I also have to be linked with a disability employment agency and I have been through so many of them in the last 10 years as well and the majority of them are garbage who don't care about you at all and just see you as a number, not a person. All they care about is getting you into any random job as quickly as they can without worrying about if its actually suitable for you or if you'll just be gone from there in a month or two.
I also have a physical medical condition where I had to have an operation to repair a serious hernia that I had. The operation was just over a year ago and while I am pretty much fully recovered from it now, it has started to come back, meaning that I will have to have another surgery in a few years, depending on how long it takes for it to fully return. It's only had a partial resurgence so far. This means that I can't do any physically demanding job (like a trade for example) that would only increase the rate at which the hernia comes back fully.
So why am I writing this? Basically, I have honestly tried everything that I can to try and find long term employment in a job and an area where I can grow my skills, meet new people and have financial security and independence. So I am appealing to my community to see if anyone can help me. If anyone is hiring or knows someone who is hiring who is looking for someone like me in an area that would suit me. If you do, please get in touch with me by messaging me directly on Reddit through the DM feature and if you have something for me, we can exchange more private contact details and go from there.
Thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you made it this far. I really appreciate it.

I Accepted a Job to Film on the Dark Web
Man, I am pumped to tell you chronically online content addicts my story. Wait is that too mean of an intro? Will this get taken down for harassment since I painted too accurate a picture of the people on this site? Sorry, everyone, I’m sure you all smell like an expensive bakery and have touched grass this morning. Anyway, I promise I have something interesting. It even involves the dark web you uncreative writers cream yourselves over! I mean, totally real people speaking about their strangely similar experiences. Okay, fine I’ll stop bullying you through the screen before you click off.
This all started when I was seven years old and my parents were killed in front of me in an anti-indigenous hate crime, but let's be real you don’t care. I’m just some annoying Cherokee kid with dead parents so I’ll skip to the good parts. I spent years in an orphanage, gradually becoming more interested in death and violence. As bad as it is, I went out of my way to expose myself to that content in the hopes of desensitizing myself. Which ended up working too well, since now I’m obsessed with causing and viewing pain, though I don’t find any joy in hurting myself.
I got adopted at twelve and after a few months of staying at my new family’s home on the reservation, I went with them to a state sweatier than the average Reddit user, California. Long story short, both of my caretakers, whom I referred to as Uncle and Auntie because they could never be my parents, died. Leaving me in the care of their older son, who I call cousin. I’m not stupid enough to give up any real names, so I’ll call him Brick, cause he’s as dumb as one. He was in his early 20s when he was tasked with taking care of me and is the world’s worst excuse for a babysitter.
I’m almost always alone at the apartment, with him only coming by to drop off supplies and stay for a few hours so the neighbors don’t get too worried. Unless I get in trouble at school, then he’d suddenly give a shit. It's useful because he doesn't about the gory stuff I look at, but some display of interest would be nice. Oh well, ninety percent of the population sucks so he’s just part of the majority. Now, with that said, you’ll be able to understand the perfect storm that led me here. During my time on the deep web, I found a particular website that caught my eye. They had new footage relatively consistently and they were the easiest for me to access since I didn't go too far into the dark web, especially with all the honey pots lying around.
I even bought a couple of files for myself to study and admire. One thing irritated me though, the cameraman. He was always sobbing, breathing, shaking, or some combination of those. It seriously killed the vibe of the killings. Something I commented on under many videos, often saying I would do a better job filming. A choice that in hindsight was me asking to end up in one of those recordings. I didn't think anything of it at the time. I was mostly the only one who commented but I was sure they wouldn't care. I was embarrassingly wrong.
I was staying up like usual, but it was past one AM on a school night, and back then that was a lot so I tried to sleep. Closing my eyes, tossing and turning, the works. I had just started drifting off when I heard the front door open. I remained calm but immediately found it weird since Brick never showed up this late. The thuds of the individual's feet grew louder as they got closer to my bedroom. I tried to convince myself it wasn't a stranger, especially since they got in with ease, but I knew that was wishful thinking.
They hummed as they opened my door. My dumbass had left it unlocked. I remained on my side, trying to look like I was asleep. They turned on the flashlight of their phone, shining it in my face. It was hard but I stayed still while they traced it over my features. I could tell they were smiling as they clicked their tongue.
“Heh, I knew it was a brat,” they whispered to themselves, pulling tangles out of my hair. Something I struggled not to groan from. They pulled up the hair over my ear and got so close spit got on my ear lobe.
“I know you’re awake kid,” they murmured, putting a blade to my neck. I let them grab my shoulder and move me onto my back, I knew how to fight but I wasn't about to take that big a risk with the position they had me in.
“You think you’re so cool saying you can do better than our guy.” they snickered, kneeling, their flashlight still shining in my face.
“Do you seriously believe that?” they questioned, moving the light away.
“Yeah, I do.” I stood my ground, they might have been intimidating but I wasn't gonna let that stop me from being honest.
“I wouldn't sound like I’m gonna piss myself every time it gets gory. I’m confident I could get better footage too, getting up close is something I’ve fantasized about.”
They clicked their tongue again and ran their finger over the bridge of my nose.
”Well, I know you’re a big fan of what we do, and you’re confidence makes me think you got something to back those claims up, so how’d you like a deal?”
I was surprised by how civil they were being aside from the touching and weapon against my throat.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, for all I knew this guy wanted me to lick their feet or some weird shit like that. They placed a finger underneath my eye, tracing a half moon with their nail.
“You have till this Friday to film a video of you killing an animal and put it on a flash drive that I’ll pick up here. If it impresses me and the crew we’ll hire ya with a handsome salary.” They began, moving their hand down to my cheek.
“But if you don't show, or it doesn't meet our standards, then I’m fucking up one of the parts of your face.” They warned, pinching my skin harshly.
“And if I say no to this deal?”
They put their hand over my mouth, scratching my lips.
“That’s cute, if you say no I’ll just slit your throat.” they grinned.
“Or rip it open with my teeth if you got a preference,” they smirked, before running their tongue across their sharp teeth.
“Okay, since I have no choice I’ll go with it, but I’m telling you now I can give you something way better than what you likely expect of me.” I prefaced, looking into their sunken eyes. They scratched my scalp, including the side of my head that was shaved.
“Good choice, I’ll be back to pick it up and if you're not here I’ll assume you don’t have the video. I genuinely wish you luck, because you’ll need it.” they removed the blade from my neck and walked away. I sat still for a few minutes in the dark, processing what had happened and wondering how they got into my apartment with such ease. I was confident I could blow their sniveling excuse of a cameraman out of the water, but I was worried about the people I was getting caught up with.
Sure, I had been on a lot of gore sites over the years but I was always just watching and occasionally commenting. Compared to most in the scene I wasn't much of a threat. I could defend myself and have contemplated killing for years but I hadn't murdered anyone or worse. Plus, I am part of way too many targeted groups to not be constantly at risk. Teenage, fem-leaning, two-spirit, indigenous kid with trauma? Yeah, I might as well be walking sign screaming “Hate crime me”.
So yeah, there was a lot to worry about. Regardless, I couldn't let that fear hold me back. I had a job to do and a group of sickos to appease. The next morning was rough, I got no sleep cause I’d spent all night brainstorming. I barely mustered the energy to change and drank straight mouthwash instead of brushing my teeth. Slogging onto the bus with drool on my cheek, I went to the back like usual. No one sat there cause, the seats were extra worn down, and I scared off anyone who attempted to with my active, rabies-infected bitch face. That day was different though.
I blanked on his name and where I knew him from, but I recognized his wavy hair and prominent curved nose. He glanced at each seat on the bus, before somehow settling on my area. He tried to give me space but ultimately seated himself beside me after realizing it was the only spot that didn't look like it would give him cancer. I glared at him as I did with everyone, but it didn't phase him.
“You know you could pick anywhere else right?” I murmured. He stared at the floor, then at me.
“I’m aware, but a few months ago I started a mission to sit on every part of this bus, and this is the last place.” he smiled, his lips softly curving at the sides.
“What’s the point of that?”
His mouth moved into a more neutral position, but his eyes kept smiling.
“I just thought it would be neat to see the same place from a bunch of different perspectives.” he took out his phone and snapped a photo from the point of view where he was sitting. Maybe my sleepiness made my bitch face less effective, cause he hadn't shown a hint of fear, which kind of annoyed me.
“That’s cool I guess, but I wouldn't do that if I were you. I’ve done some back here alone that would make your skin crawl.” in hindsight my attempt at unnerving him just made me sound like a pervert, which is probably why he held back laughter. Trying to hide a chuckle by clearing his throat.
“Hey, it's not my business what you do, no matter how Haram it is. It’s your life so that’s between you and whatever you believe in. Just don’t shake hands with me.” he joked, playfully putting his hands up. Strangely, I remembered his name at that moment.
“Oh shit, you’re Abdul! We have art together.” I sat up, haphazardly slamming my hand down on my leg.
“Uh yeah, I’ve seen some of your paintings, they’re pretty cool. I like the way you texture them, I’m trying to work on that.” he complimented, seeming more weirded out by my sudden energy than my accidental insinuation. I felt a little stupid for yelling his name but decided not to dwell on it.
“Thanks, you’re stuff is nice, and you’re good at shading.”
He stretched his arms while thanking me. We talked for a few more minutes, taking jabs at each other throughout. Turns out he was better at being an asshole than his artsy charismatic appearance made me think. The thing setting our insults apart being that you could tell he was a loving person underneath. It was the nicest conversation I had with anyone in a while. Though he could tell I was tired so he quieted down, letting me sleep, waking me when we got to school. We went our separate ways until the last two periods we shared. All that time, I spent my remaining energy plotting how I was going to handle the video. What I’d kill, record with, and how to dispose of the evidence. It was a lot to consider, but through three classes I devised a plan.
I’d find a stray around my apartment complex and take it out in my room. Record it on a portable camera since I broke the ones on my phone, no, I will not be answering how that happened. Then once I had my footage I’d put the body in a trash bag, throw it in the complex’s garbage, and clean the blood off my floor. It didn't seem like Brick would come by so he wasn't a factor I thought I’d have to consider. The plan was almost too easy, but I decided to believe in Occam’s razor. I got so lost in thought that by the time I reached Art, which was my second-to-last period, I didn't process that we were moving seats.
“She called your name,” Abdul reminded me. Our teacher placed us next to each other at our four-person table. The two girls sitting with us were already friends, so I didn't bother to say anything, but I was interested in talking to him more.
“So, what do you think of this assignment?” He shrugged, taking out his sketchbook.
“I’m not that good at drawing people, but the idea of combining two people’s faces into a portrait seems interesting. Any ideas on who you’ll pick?”
“Probably the members of the music duo Brain Tumor, they’re my favorite artists and they both look weird as hell.”
“Wow way to talk about your favorites, if that’s what you say about them I can‘t imagine what you have to say about me.” he joked, pulling up reference pictures.
“First, it’s not an insult, second I don’t have anything to say about you. Brain and Tumor have features and styles that make them stand out. Sure they’re ugly, but it just adds to their visual charm. Hot people are boring, there’s nothing to pick at.” I explained, unzipping my bag.
“Oh, so you’re saying you think I’m hot.”
His comment wasn’t serious but it kind of got to me.
“Shit, that’s not what I meant, I was trying to say you’re boring. All hot people are boring, but not all boring people are hot, okay?” I explained, flipping to a clean page.
“Alright, but if I’m so bland then why talk to me?”
I hesitated, contemplating how much of a dick I was gonna be.
“Because it means you probably need some spice in your life, which I can provide.”
He began sketching a head on his paper.
“I like spices, but I feel like you’re the kind of person to dump a cabinet’s worth onto me.”
I flicked my pencil over to his side of the desk, putting on a mocking grin.
“Aww, you scared I’m gonna get you into trouble?”
He picked up the pencil and started using it, putting his on my side.
“No, ‘cause I’m good at setting boundaries. I’m more concerned that you’ll get annoyed with how unafraid of you I am.”
I stared at him for a moment, I hadn't expected to hear that.
“Jeez, man you didn't have to read me like that.”
He shrugged, observing the red paint from past projects that lay on my pencil.
“It's not hard to figure out, just this morning you were trying to push me away on the bus. Lucky, or unlucky, for you I want you to have a friend and you seem like a fun person.”
“Wait are you saying I have no friends?” I squinted at him.
“Well, do you?”
I didn't answer.
“If your response is silence I suggest you take up my offer.”
I was stunned, to be honest. No one had offered to be my friend since 6th grade, and that didn't last long. Of course, I accepted it, but for the rest of the period, there was an awkwardness in my mind. As pathetic as it sounds I wasn't used to others genuinely enjoying my company like he did. Which was partly by design cause I get joy out of scaring people away, but still. I forgot how it felt to have conversations about normal things like art. He had such a nice smile too, usually when I see a grin I want to slap it off, but I liked his. His voice was also nice, it’s hard to describe what in particular but it was easy on the ears.
Okay, I’m starting to get off-topic. I’ll skip to the important part. Toward the end of class, he started talking about how he was interested in filmmaking and got a portable video camera as a gift at last year’s Eid. He didn't have it on him, but he showed me a picture.
“Heh, that’s funny, I bought the same one a month ago.” I pointed out.
“Yeah, it's a popular model, I’m still getting the hang of it though cause I’m so used to using my phone.”
“Well, maybe I could bring you over to my place or vice versa after school and I can help you out.” I suggested.
He smiled, putting his phone back in his pocket.
“I thought you said you’ve only had it for a month? You know I can always look up tutorials from trained professionals.” he reminded me with a notable smugness that I'd used with him before.
“Well those guys are stuffy and I’m a fast learner.”
He redirected his attention back to his page, picking his pencil up.
“Alright, I suggest we go somewhere public instead. You’re not exactly the kind of person I want to bring home to my parents right away. Plus they always need to meet my friends and their guardians before I hang out at their home.”
I gave an exaggerated sigh, stretching my back.
“Aw man, looks like we can’t get high in my murder pit during our first hangout.”
He didn't respond for a solid few seconds.
“Wait, you do know I'm joking right?”
He shrugged, the smile in his eyes appearing again.
“I mean, one of those things is a little less believable than the other.” he snickered, and I laughed with him.
We set up a time and a date, which is where I screwed myself. He ended up being busy with projects from his other classes and family which just left us with Friday, the same day I had to submit the video. Now, did I tell him I wouldn't be able to make it? No, of course not, because I decided to be stupid and even more overconfident. I said that I’d one hundred percent be able to hang out with him after school like I didn't have a mutilator who was going to drop by my place at an unknown time.
The rest of the day went over fine but that bad timing led me to feel like a dick later. When I got home I was able to write out my plan, even sketching a few specifics of what I’d do. It was more exciting than when I’d been brainstorming, but this is when the gravity of the situation began to set in. When I said I’d fantasized about killings I meant it. I mean my teddy with twenty-five stab wounds should say enough. Regardless this would be the first time real blood was on my hands.
It made me feel powerful, but a little afraid. I’ve heard stories of people thinking that it would be an awesome experience and then feeling like shit. I doubted I’d be one of those people but still. Plus, I didn't exactly trust the guy who gave me this job. There was a good chance that this whole situation was rigged and they’d kill me no matter how good the video was. Or worse turn me into the feds and expose my collection. Honestly, if that happened I’d probably eat a shot to avoid going to jail. Wait, can I say that on this platform? Okay to the mods, that was a joke, I want to live a long life. Ugh, I’m doing a terrible job of staying on track. The point is there was a lot up in the air despite it being a matter of life or death.
I knew I’d go through with it but it was still a lot less straightforward than it initially seemed. I wracked my brain to remember where most of the cats stayed and tried to come up with a good way to lure one without raising suspicion. This also proved harder than first thought because I didn't think to account for the cat man, an old guy who lived alone and fed all the cats in our dingy complex while also housing a few. Knowing how obsessive he was he’d probably notice if one of them disappeared. Then again not all the cats return consistently or at all. It makes more sense that he’d think one of them was run over rather than slaughtered. It was getting late again so I rested my head for a moment, a bad move cause I ended up falling asleep at my desk. Not even changing out of the clothes I’d worn before, I woke up late and barely caught the bus the next morning.
I went to my usual spot but Abdul had already taken it. He patted the area next to it, which he’d covered in a towel, a smart move knowing how nasty it was. People gave me a few dirty looks as normal, which I smiled at. I stretched, my mind slightly less out of it than the previous morning.
“Uh, you do realize that-”
“Yeah, I know I’m wearing the same clothes.”
Abdul looked me up and down, his eyes remaining soft, but with a mix of concern and judgment. He set his backpack down and took off his sweater handing it to me.
“Dude what are you-”
“Look I don't know what led to you not being able to change but I think you should at least have a fresh top.”
I was surprised he was offering me something to wear but I took it.
“Uh, thanks, I’ll change into it later.”
He nodded as I put it in my backpack.
“You know you didn't have to do that.” I reminded him.
“Well there’s a lot of stuff I don’t have to do, but I do it because I want to, and I wanted to help you out.”
He smiled, his face still warmer than an Arizona summer. I got a strange feeling in my chest at that moment, I still can’t tell if it was good or bad.
“Well, thanks, I'll give it back to you tomorrow.”
We talked a little more and he mentioned something that caught my attention.
“Have you heard about all the animals that have been turning up dead?”
My eyes widened with surprise.
“No, I haven't, when did you hear about that?”
He pulled on his long-sleeve shirt.
“My sister said her friend who works at a shelter noticed a bunch of animals were getting adopted by people around the same time, and since then gore videos with them have been showing up. She found out through her co-worker who was emailed it by some random creep.”
I covered my mouth and looked away to hide the smile growing on my face. He had just given me the perfect cover-up without knowing. Now if I killed an animal people had an entire violent ring to connect it to instead of me! I stayed quiet for a minute because I could tell he’d likely see through any phony sad sounds I made.
“Oh wow, that’s awful, do you think they’ll ever find out the people behind it?”
He sighed, running his hand through his wavy hair.
“I hope so, for now, all we can do is pray that no more animals get hurt.”
I couldn't contain my grin as he said that so sincerely like animals and people didn't die constantly and that taking down one group would somehow stop the issue.
“Is there some joke I don’t get?” he furrowed his brow.
“Uh, no, sorry I smile when nervous.”
His gaze softened again, and he didn't press further.
His bringing up the animal killings ended up being the exact push I needed to get my hands dirty. I’d spent the entire day before planning so it was time to put that plan into action. I stole some cat treats that the cat man had laid out and spread them around my apartment which was on the bottom floor. Waiting for one of them to take the bate outside my window was pretty boring but one of them came after a few minutes. A scraggly brown and black cat with a tuft of fur missing on one side of his head. It's messed up but I felt like a little less of an asshole for taking him in since he looked like he was already struggling. I scooped him up and he didn't attempt to fight back.
“Hey there buddy” I waved, feeding him some more food. His eyes had a lot of crust on them, it was kinda gross but I don’t have the right to say with how often I wash my jeans. After a minute or two he let me pet him. I knew making any kind of attachment was bad but I thought it was the right thing to do so he’d fall into a sense of security. I was just about to take him into my room when the door opened.
“Hey, I’m back with groceries!” my shithead cousin announced with two plastic bags in his hands. He looked down to see me with the cat, his eyebrows raising.
“Aw come on, you know we can’t afford a pet.”
He groaned placing the bags on a table and unloading them.
“I know, but he doesn't look like he’s got a lot of life in him I at least want to help him feel better before he kicks the bucket!”
Brick rolled his eyes, putting the cereal box on top of the fridge
“Jeez, did you even think about what diseases he might have? His eyes look puffy what if he has something that can get you sick?”
He had valid concerns which was surprising since he’s usually stupid, but I was still annoyed with him.
“I’m sure he’s fine, I’ll even try to wash him, just please let me hold onto him for a little.”
He folded his arms looking down at us.
“Have you even named him?”
I froze for a second, before using the first thing that came to mind, which ended up being pretty awful knowing my plans.
“Cash cow.” I blurted, awkwardly patting his head.
“Honestly that’s better than what I was expecting. I was sure you’d pick ‘Hellspawn Mcgee’ or something else corny.”
He meant to make fun of me but honestly, I would have named him that if I had more time.
“Ugh, anyway I got those dumb chips you like.”
He then pulled out a bag of the wrong chips.
“Dude those are the wrong ones, this is the third time you’ve mixed up the flavors.”
He threw them at me, scaring the cat slightly.
“Well, I pay for it so you shouldn't be so picky. Anyway, while I was in line I picked up something you might be into.”
He then tossed me a trashy teen magazine. One of my least favorite sorry excuses for an influencer on the cover.
“This is a joke, right?”
I couldn't believe my own adopted brother gave such little shit in my interests.
“I don't know, you decided to start being a girl for real this time so I thought the makeup tips on page ten would help you out.”
I scrunched my face at his comment.
“Dude I’ve been this way for years, just because I started wearing more makeup and dresses doesn't mean I’m more of a girl than when I didn't. I know you won’t get the two-spirit thing but come on.”
He shrugged, seeing me done with me even though he’d just shown up.
“Yeah well hey I’m trying. Anyway, just so you know a friend of mine is coming here Friday.”
My heart stopped.
“Wait why here? You live elsewhere why can’t you assholes go there or their place!”
He slammed his fist on the table.
“Will you shut the fuck up!”
He screamed with a phrase I’d grown numb to.
“I don't know, to be honest, something about wanting to move into this complex and this being a way to scout it out. I’m just letting you know now so you don’t act like a complete freak.”
“Jokes on you I’ll piss in whatever shitty beer you bring just cause you said that!”
I yelled back raising my voice higher than his. He face-palmed before putting the plastic bags in the drawer under the sink.
“Whatever, you and your ketamine-addict-looking cat have fun,” he told me while seating himself on the couch. I picked up the cat and walked into the bathroom to clean it. I closed the door and placed him in the dry tub. Using a small disposable mouthwash cup I got a little bit of water. I hadn't had a pet before so I wasn't sure how to approach the task. I dipped my fingers in the water and carefully pet it while pouring s small bit down his back. Any other cat would fight back but he just made pissed-off noises without doing anything.
I scrapped my old shampoo bottle and kneaded it into his thin fur. His skin was bumpy and dry beneath the hair so scrubbing it was uncomfortable. I made sure to avoid getting soap in its eyes but I did pull away some of the crust on its lids. His pupils were so clouded I was surprised that he could see at all, making me feel even more sure that he would be on its way out with or without me.
After drying him I set him on a beat-up shirt I wore when modifying clothes. He sunk his claws into it a few times, playing with a loose string. I ignored him for the rest of the night, hopping into the shower and changing for bed. His meows woke me up a few times but I tuned it out after a while, reminding myself that he wouldn’t be my cat for long.
The next day was Thursday and there wasn't a second that passed by where the weight of the murder I’d have to commit didn't weigh on me. I seriously shot myself in the foot by taking care of that scruffy, pubic hair pile. I was supposed to be hyped about killing it, after all, I’d dreamed and seen way worse than what I was going to do. Yet once I got home and started setting up I felt grosser with each step. I decided to record it in my bathroom instead of my bedroom so it would be harder to connect to me. I set down a few fabric scraps and a worn-out beach towel, placing it all inside a tub for easier cleanup later.
“Okay, I guess it's time,” I mumbled to myself. I brought the cat in and placed it down, setting up my camera once it was comfortable. I also wore my most generic clothes in addition to a mask, putting my hair in a bun for sanitation. When I saw the flicker of red showing that the camera was on I felt I was dreaming. I smiled, excited that I’d get to live out my violent desires. Yet, when I looked down at its pathetic frame and confused expression those urges left me.
I rationalized what I was doing, reminding myself how many animals die all the time and that I’d been forced into this, but it didn't help much in the end. I won’t get into it but under the pressure of impressing the group Cash Cow didn't go out as fast as I would have liked for a first task. Getting rid of the evidence was especially rough, the textures were pretty nasty, to put it mildly. It was surreal watching the blood go down the tub drain and gradually drip off my hands as I rinsed them. I couldn't conjure a single thought the entire time I cleaned it up.
Whether I was wringing out the clothes or putting the remains in plastic bags, it didn't matter. All I could focus on was the task at hand, with hints of disgust along the way. I ended up finishing at three AM. My hands were wrinkled and shook once I settled. I won’t deny that during the murder I didn't hate it. Slashing into something was fun and it made me feel strong. Still, it wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I expected it to be. Part of it was guilt, but it was mostly disappointment. I’d built it up for years and it wasn't earth shatteringly good or bad.
Overall, I expected to feel more, but it just left me hollow with an uncomfortable itch. There was no way I’d ever be able to see the tub the same way, hell I don’t think I’ll ever use it again. Luckily I almost always shower anyway so it's not too big of a deal. I watched a few horror game videos, trashed everything, changed and went to bed.
My scalp hurt like a bitch the morning since I kept my hair in that stupid bun. Despite getting less sleep than the past two days I held myself together a bit better in the morning. I brushed my teeth, changed, and had some fried bread before getting on the bus. Regardless I looked like complete shit and struggled to slump into my seat.
“Rough night?” Abdul asked
“Uh, yeah.” I quietly responded looking to the floor.
He frowned, looking at me with concern.
“You can talk about it if you're comfortable,” he assured me. I contemplated giving him a thinly veiled metaphor or vague explanation so he'd comfort me but stopped myself before my mouth could run a muck. He wouldn't be able to do much of anything and I don’t like opening up.
“Uhm, thanks but it's something I have to deal with alone.”
He nodded, respecting my boundaries.
“You know, I understand if you can’t hang out today it seems like you have a lot going on.”
I avoided eye contact with him as he spoke. For once I was feeling hints of guilt toward a person. I wanted to spend time with him, but I knew that I wasn't in the state to do that.
“Yeah, I think it’ll have to wait, I’m-” I cut myself off before apologizing. A fact about me that should surprise no one is that I hate apologizing. Even when I do feel kinda bad the act fills me with embarrassment.
“You what?” he asked, his eyes telling me that he knew what I was going to say.
“I’m emotionally not great.” I spat out in an admittedly poor attempt to get out of saying sorry. As always he remained calm but I could tell he saw through me.
“Okay, like I said I understand, whatever it is I hope you feel better.”
I told him thank you and we didn't speak for the rest of the day. At home I changed into more comfortable clothes and brushed my teeth. Unfortunately, I wasn't bouncing back from killing nearly as much as I expected.
“It wasn't even that bad! That thing was on its last legs anyway.” I grumbled to myself, smacking my forehead. I was feeling worse than when I did it which is weird. I ended up spontaneously decorating a ratty tie from the bottom of an accessory drawer to distract myself. It helped me get my mind off things, for a little. I had zero plan, just wanting to make something needlessly complex. Hours that felt like minutes passed and soon it was covered in patches, frills, and beads. I just tried it on when I heard the front door open.
“Man, that shit was wild!” I heard Brick laugh groggily. I didn't have to see or smell him to know he’d gotten lit. I rolled my eyes, closing my bedroom door.
“Hey, who’s there?” his friend asked, seemingly referring to me.
“Oh, that’s my little sis, don’t mind her she’s just on her emo shit!” he joked, which pissed me off for the petty reason that I didn't even listen or dress emo.
“Hey, that’s alright with me, I went through one of those phases,” they responded, their words less slurred than my cousin’s.
I fucked up and forgot to lock it when I closed it so they were able to swing it open, almost smacking my desk.
“Hey emo girl!” they waved as Brick haphazardly pulled them back.
“Okay, man, seriously I think she wants to be left alone.”
The way his friend looked at me made me uncomfortable. Like they’d snap my neck if I pissed them off. They clicked their tongue while stepping through the door frame.
“Alright, but I gotta say calling her an emo is inaccurate, they look like they watch gore and most emos just say they do.” they flashed a sharp toothy grin. At that moment I began to connect the dots.
“Easy, she’ll get pissy with you dude, now come on.” Brick warned tugging their opened button pushed him away. They looked me dead in the eyes.
“I don’t think she minds, in truth, I feel like we’ll have a lot to discuss later.” they smiled again, finally walking back into the living room. A chill ran up my spine when I saw them. The sharp teeth, New York accent, unsettling gaze, that motherfucker was the person who recruited me! They were able to get into my place so easily cause my dumbass cousin probably gave them a spare key or the opportunity to make one, and now they were a room away from me!
I dug my hands into my pillow as I contemplated what to do, no matter what happened next, I knew it was gonna be a rough visit.

I don’t even know where to start. From the first day that I met my in-laws a decade ago, they have been entitled, demanding and generally very difficult and frustrating to deal with. I love my husband very much, and we very rarely have problems or fights unless it’s concerning his parents and his sister.
Some back story, my husband and his mom are Eastern European, while my husband’s stepdad and I are Chinese, and we all live in China. His half-sister is mixed European and Chinese. I can barely believe that he’s related to these people: he’s independent, competent, helpful, generous and logical, whereas they are none of these things.
Even before we got married, my in-laws constantly asked me to do favors for them, and I think they treat me like a servant. They’ve even ruined two of my birthdays in a row with some demanding tantrums over stupid shit, and my MIL tried to commandeer my wedding, she even called it her wedding.
One of the problems is that both of them are terrible communicators: my MIL, despite having lived in China for three decades, does not speak Chinese, whereas I don’t speak her mother tongue. Her English is quite poor and she constantly misunderstands me when we try to communicate in English. Even something as simple as organizing a meet up is riddled with frustrations because she has absolutely no communication skills, and she doesn’t even know how to use GPS or other basic Chinese apps. She is the most helpless person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. She hasn’t had a job since she came to China and she is incompetency personified.
On top of that she is snobby, she looks down on most Chinese people and whenever we socialize she is always complaining about something or someone, and she thinks all Chinese people are out of scam her. She lives in a total expat bubble and does not understand most Chinese customs or way of life. My FIL, ironically being Chinese himself, is also a terrible communicator and has a bad case of untreated adult ADD. He’s always spewing bullshit conspiracies at me, or putting me down, or going on about some complete non-sequitur. They’re both demanding and entitled, and if you help them with one favor, they’ll ask for ten more immediately, they’re both total choosing beggars.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was that about 2 years ago, my sister-in-law was getting ready to apply for university in the US. Since I had gone to college in the US, they both asked my husband to make me help her with her college application and SATs. I didn’t want to do it, because I knew there would be communication problems and misunderstandings galore, but after much pleading from my husband, acquiesced in the end.
From the get-go, it was a total nightmare. They both knew absolutely nothing about the US university application process, but whenever I tried to explain it they both talked over me and didn’t listen at all. On top of that they were delusional about my sister-in-law’s grades. She is a mediocre student at best and has absolutely no hobbies or extracurricular interests other than video games, and she acts bratty and immature for her age. Despite this, they thought she could get into Colombia or NYU. Eventually I found them an agency to help them, but as usual my MIL thought the agency was out to scam her and started complaining about them to me and my FIL right away. He, being the entitled twat that he is, told me he was going to sue them for not delivering, even though he didn’t even bother to read the contract he signed with them, and told me to read it, and resolve the situation otherwise he will sue.
On top of this, my SIL, being lazy and spoiled, hated going to them and took it out on me personally by being excessively rude to me everyone I saw her. She would often roll her eyes at me, complain about the agency loudly, or otherwise pretend that I didn’t exist. She has also taken to texting me 40 messages in a row on WeChat in the middle of the night, demanding help with her college application. My MIL witnessed some of this behavior and said nothing. I got so fed up that I started to avoid them completely, and quit our group chats. After a few months they realized I was avoiding them, and started complaining about me and badmouthing me to my husband for “disrespecting” them.
Last September, my husband forced me to go to a dinner with them, after I had managed to avoid them for half a year. My MIL and SIL were both incredibly rude to me and cold-shouldered me all night. I was very upset and honestly didn’t want to ever see them again. Around Thanksgiving they decided it was time to “forgive” me, and I was forced into another dinner with them. The favor-asking started again after this, this time my MIL wanted help changing the wallpapers in her house, which I had done for them before. I was honestly beyond done with them at this point and never wanted to help them with anything again, but as usual my husband begged and pleaded. After I helped them, my husband told his mom to text me to thank me and tell me she was satisfied with the result. Instead she texts (the first time she has texted me in over a year) that she wants to change the wallpaper in every room of their house and wants me to find her new wallpaper books, and help them some more with this.
At this point I am furious. I honestly don’t ever want to see or talk to them again. They never apologized for any of their behavior, never even realized how awful they have been to me over the years, and have gotten comfortable enough to demand favors again. I want my husband to tell them that it’s not okay to treat me this way, and how their past behavior hurt my feelings, but my husband thinks his mom is too sensitive, will misunderstand, and doesn’t want to hurt her feelings. I also offered a face-to-face meeting with her to tell her myself how offensive I find her and my FIL and SIL’s behavior to be, but my husband thinks that her English isn’t strong enough for this and thinks I will offend her and she will misunderstand as usual.
I don’t know what to do at this point, all I know is I can’t stand any of them and can barely bring myself to be civil at this point. I feel allergic to them. I’ve talked about this endlessly to my husband, but he thinks I’m overreacting and that they aren’t that bad to me. He thinks I should just take it. He works for my FIL, and he’s used to them badgering him to help them with basic things. He thinks it’s okay that they treat me like an extension of him, but I’m not okay with it anymore.
I cut ties with my own mother a decade again for abuse, controlling behavior and treating me like a servant. I honestly can’t believe I’m experiencing this with my in-laws all over again, it triggers me like nothing else. I don’t want to leave my husband, and we have a very happy life together otherwise. He’s such a good person, but he’s also caught in the middle. I know my thoughts and complaints about his family hurts him a lot.
I’ve tried searching online for advice on how to deal with entitled and demanding in-laws, but I can’t find any specific to my case. They don’t interfere with my life otherwise, they only reach out when they want me to do something for them. I feel like they only value me for what I can do for them, and I’m hurt that my husband thinks his mom’s feelings are more important than mine. Every time we talk about them it leads to a massive fight between us. He simply cannot see it from my point of view, and constantly tells me to get over it, and that their behavior isn’t a big deal. What do I do?

Hi! I have only lived in Vegas since the end of January. Against what I now know as better judgement, I accepted a pretty odd job with who is my current roommate/landlord, which is how I ended up moving here.
The arrangement was that rent and food would be covered in exchange for basically being their personal assistant, while also leaving me time to pick up part time work so I had cash inflow.
Took a little longer than I liked, but I found outside part time work toward the end of February, and by the end of March I was told we didn’t have time for me to be able to have another job, and was forced to quit my other job on the spot (for fear of losing my housing).
Once again, I’m cooking and cleaning for this person, as well as helping them with anything they needed for their fairly successful online business, including shipping, customer service, and odd jobs similar to research and data entry relating to the industry (sorry to be vague here, but in the off chance they see this, I would really like to do my best to protect my identity because it is a fairly small and close knit industry).
I was told I can’t be actually paid, but they could let me use their credit card for whatever I needed (which honestly ended up not being super true in the end, and I ended up having to ask my family to cashapp me for things like hygiene products, because they didn’t see it as a necessity).
I essentially put myself in a position where I have to ask someone else to do ANYTHING at all, and I asked to take an entire day off (which would be literally my first day off since I got here in January) to spend it with someone I met here. They said yes, then about 8pm on the day I was told I was allowed to be off, they texted me and informed me they didn’t believe our arrangement was working for them and they have packed my things and will leave them outside.
I asked if this would include the things that were purchased for me in lieu of actual payment, and was told they would “reimburse” me for the things instead.
Forgive me if I am wrong, but even if I am not on the lease, do I not still have rights here? I’ve been trying to research it since I received the text, but for some reason it seems incredibly difficult to find definitive answers about what my rights would be in this situation without a lease in this state.
Isn’t even touching my things like this in this situation illegal? Aren’t they still technically my landlord even if their landlord doesn’t know I live there?
Any and all help appreciated. I was just kind of more confused after checking lacsn.org.
Thank you in advance! And please don’t judge me for my poor choices lol

My wife and I are considering moving out of Israel with our four children (oldest is 7). I am a software engineer with about 15 years of experience, and my wife works as an insurance broker for businesses. I hold Portuguese citizenship, which should allow me to work in the EU.
We are primarily looking for a country that offers good prospects for work, a welcoming environment for our family, and a smooth integration process. While I know that salaries for software engineers in the EU are generally lower than in Israel, I am open to this as I also have an online business. My wife would need to find employment as well.
I am somewhat concerned about anti-Semitism, as my grandparents have shared difficult stories about life as a Jew outside of Israel. However, I am not religious and wish to integrate and blend in with the local community, focusing on my interests and business.
Our main goal is to build a good future for our children. We prefer English-speaking countries but are willing to learn new languages if needed. I did not complete my university studies, as I started working early, which may affect my chances of scoring enough points for immigration to countries like Australia, New Zealand, or the USA.
We would greatly appreciate any suggestions or advice on which countries might be the best fit for our family, as well as insights on job prospects, integration, and the overall process of settling in for the long term. Thank you in advance for your help!

I am still a 29 year old kissless virigin. I go to the gym, have a good job, take care of my and so on.
So I have been trying really hard to date for the last 2-3 years. I used all dating apps, went to all kinds of meetups and started to cold approach. I had zero romantic success so far.
I decided to do double down on my efforts in the last few weeks. I "touched grass" every day of the month so far. I did at least one cold approach every day, tried to go to as many parties and events as possible and swipped every woman on Tinder in a 100 km radius (I am paying for premium).
The results so far are terrible. Of course on the dating apps I get almost no matches. And even if I get matches most of them are fake or do not reply to my opening message. And even the few matches who reply to my first opening message ghost me after like the third message and show zero interest in the conversation from the start.
Okay but that is online dating right? If you meet women in real life it is way different right? I mean that is what people online tell me all the time: "Just touch grass bro".
So from my RL approaches this month I got 5 phone numbers. Two never replied to my first message, the other 2 took forever to reply and showed zeroooo interest in keeping the conversation going and one just ghosted me in the middle of a good conversation without any explanation whatsoever.
And it is crazy how much effort it took for me to even get those numbers. You have to endure so much rejection to even get to this point. The most common rejection is obviously "I have a boyfriend".
The second most common rejection in my experience is that they show to you from the very first sentence you speak that they do not want to talk to you at all.
But the one type of "rejection" that hurt the most I call "the condescending one". Usually happens in the baclub setting when I approach a group of women. For context I am short and have a baby face problem. People sometimes think I am 19 or a teenager with early hair loss.
So what happens when I approach is that the woman will talk to me, but in the conversation I notice that she and her friends are making fun of me. They usually make more than one comment on how young I look and how they can not believe I am 29. The giggle a lot and the overall vibe in these situations is like "look at him, how he tries to approach us. He really thinks he has a chance hehe". If I notice that kind of vibe I leave the situation and do not even bother to ask for a number or anything.
At this point I feel a deep sense of total defeat. I know the general advice is to just keep going and keep trying. But if I am honest to myself I need to stop. I can not do this anymore. The rejections, the ghosting, the friendzone experiences... they never stop. And all this shit without a single win. It feels like I am beating my head against the wall. Maybe I really need to accept that I am completely unwanted by women.
TL;DR: Tried everything, no more energy, accepting defeat, waiting for AI girlfriend?