Headache vomiting chills

This hell started for me 2.5 years ago with Covid. I came down pretty bad and presented with CFS / ME symptoms - crushing fatigue, Fluey feeling, brainfog, vertigo, POTS. After 2 years of wading through that route, I tested positive for Bartonella, Borellia amongst a host of co infections like HSV, EBV etc. i remember having a tick bite as a late teen (although never got it seen to - ffs WHY), and all my adult life I’ve definitely been weaker than friends, fatigued, bad immune system, couldn’t tolerate working out, joints swelling that the rheumatologisy couldn’t explain. So I am thinking I probably had Lyme for 10+ years kept vaguely in check by my body, unleashed by Covid
I started IV via a picc line this week. On my second day of Azithro I started vomiting for 20 hours, 0 sleep, 2 anti sickness drips later I finally could eat rice. We dropped the dose to 1/2 and pulsing. I still feel TERRIBLE like the worst flu I’ve had in my life but not throwing up. Also have chills, stiff neck, headaches, etc. By day 2 this semi passes but I feel very out of it still (and then it’s time for the next IV)…
Doing everything under the sun to detox. Infrared sauna blanket, salt baths, multiple tinctures, alkaseltzer gold, glutathione drip, lympathic massage, foot baths, 3l of water etc
I’ve fought so hard for the past 2.5 years to have some quality of life back. Yes, my life is still awful, I’m housebound but at least if I stay inside my symptoms are minimal. It’s a shell of my old life (2 jobs, planning a huge wedding, massive social life) but I wasn’t suffering 24/7. It took me 2.5 years to reach that stage. Now I’m worried I’m fucking it all up. If I am having this response to one antibiotic, what happens next week when we add another, and the week after when we have a 3rd?! Am I going to do permanent damage by treating like this? Or would the Lyme do more permanent damage untreated? Both options are awful. I’m so scared, I’m so sad. I will do about anything to get better, and will suck up the terrible herx, but my big fear is making myself permanently worse.
Please help and please be kind :(

This hell started for me 2.5 years ago with Covid. I came down pretty bad and presented with CFS / ME symptoms - crushing fatigue, Fluey feeling, brainfog, vertigo, POTS. After 2 years of wading through that route, I tested positive for Bartonella, Borellia amongst a host of co infections like HSV, EBV etc. i remember having a tick bite as a late teen (although never got it seen to - ffs WHY), and all my adult life I’ve definitely been weaker than friends, fatigued, bad immune system, couldn’t tolerate working out, joints swelling that the rheumatologisy couldn’t explain. So I am thinking I probably had Lyme for 10+ years kept vaguely in check by my body, unleashed by Covid
I started IV via a picc line this week. On my second day of Azithro I started vomiting for 20 hours, 0 sleep, 2 anti sickness drips later I finally could eat rice. We dropped the dose to 1/2 and pulsing. I still feel TERRIBLE like the worst flu I’ve had in my life but not throwing up. Also have chills, stiff neck, headaches, etc. By day 2 this semi passes but I feel very out of it still (and then it’s time for the next IV)…
Doing everything under the sun to detox. Infrared sauna blanket, salt baths, multiple tinctures, alkaseltzer gold, glutathione drip, lympathic massage, foot baths, 3l of water etc
I’ve fought so hard for the past 2.5 years to have some quality of life back. Yes, my life is still awful, I’m housebound but at least if I stay inside my symptoms are minimal. It’s a shell of my old life (2 jobs, planning a huge wedding, massive social life) but I wasn’t suffering 24/7. It took me 2.5 years to reach that stage. Now I’m worried I’m fucking it all up. If I am having this response to one antibiotic, what happens next week when we add another, and the week after when we have a 3rd?! Am I going to do permanent damage by treating like this? Or would the Lyme do more permanent damage untreated? Both options are awful. I’m so scared, I’m so sad. I will do about anything to get better, and will suck up the terrible herx, but my big fear is making myself permanently worse.
Please help and please be kind :(

I am almost done! This challenge gets harder the longer it goes on. Week 4 is when I hit the point of not feeling like it's worth it to go on. But I don't want to have done this for nothing so I am going to see it through. The gastritis is to a point where it doesn't matter what I eat. Even a sip of water makes me want to vomit. The joint and muscle pain is constant. The stabbing pains under my ribs are nearly constant. The fatigue seems to depend on what/when I ate. Headaches are almost every day. My pants don't fit because I am too bloated. My endoscopy is on Friday which means Thursday will be my last gluten day. Now I just have to plan my "last meal."

37 Female - 5'4" - 130 lbs - ex smokevape - weekly alcohol use of like 1 or 2 on weekends - no drugs
Allergies: Erythromycin
My gallbladder was removed in 2011
Ok so, the situation, Wednesday morning I woke up at 4:30 AM to pee and it stung. I immediately knew I had a UTI and would go to my Durgent care once they opened to get antibiotics. Not five minutes later I had to pee again and there were blood clots. Never had blood clots before with a UTI and also I'm not super prone for UTIs like some people. I've had maybe 4 in my life.
It escalated pretty quickly. I went from no symptoms when I went to bed to passing massive clots and my urine looking like chunky strawberry jello within just a couple of hours.
So go to the Dr office, they take a sample (it comes back E Coli), give me a shot of Rocephin and a script for Bactrim to take for 7 days, 2 pills a day. Since then I have been taking the medicine but I'm still having horrible symptoms.
Now the blood, clots, stinging, anything related to the UTI cleared up within a day. However I started to develop fevers (no fevers prior to taking the antibiotics), chills, massive constant headaches. My skin hurts so bad it's painful to move. It's the kind of pain you get when you're sick but just very intense. Hurts the most right below my breasts but even just getting up to use the bathroom feels horrible because I'll get the chills and it tightens my skin and it's just very painful.
Other symptoms I still have: heart palpitations, hunger seemed to disappear Friday. I am forcing myself to eat. Prickling sensation in my hands that sometimes appear elsewhere on my body - this feeling is not constant but comes and goes. Can feel/hear blood pumping in my head which makes me feel like I've got fluid? Tired/Woozy feeling in general.
So my concern is that I've never had UTI symptoms last long once I start the antibiotics and it's usually easy sailing while I finish the script. These prolonged symptoms are weird for me. What could possibly be going on? Stubborn UTI? Sepsis? Back doesn't hurt for kidney infection. Could I be allergic to Bactrim?
Any thoughts would be appreciated. Thank you!

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

34 AFAB 183lbs 5'4"
For the past 6-7 weeks, I've been dealing with what my PCP diagnosed as Candida Albicans infection. It started around the anal area. It has now moved to the entire genital area (vaginal and anal), under both arms, inside and outside my right ear, my stomach, neck, and face [also, both forearms, top of the right hand, , and moving down both upper thighs]. I've taken 4 doses of Fluconazole and treat with Nystatin cream twice a day. I'm taking daily showers or a 15-20 minute bath with Domeboro soak. Nothing is working, I'm in extreme pain, and I would appreciate some guidance.
Other relevant information:
Pregnancy w/ vaginal birth 12 years ago.
PCOS w/ metabolic syndrome and insulin resistance 7 years ago. Taking 1500 MG Metformin daily.
GSHV2 9 years ago. Taking 500 MG Valtrex daily.
Depression/Anxiety. Taking Lexapro.
ADHD-Inattentive. Taking 40 MG Vyvanse.
Other supplements: Magnesium glyconate (sleep), prenatal multivitamin (low Vitamin D and Iron in the past).
Former cigarette smoker. Current vape user.
No new sexual partners in the last 5 years. No new soaps, detergents, etc.
The amount of pain I'm in is just miserable. I've been trying to follow my PCP's instructions to the letter, but nothing is working. I can barely walk around my house at this point and it's interfering with my job and being able to take care of my kid who was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes this past year and may have celiac's disease. I may just be impatient to have this clear up and I know my PCP has given what's considered the gold standard for Candida skin infections. I'll be talking to her on Monday about seeing a dermatologist.
My questions:
Has anyone seen this situation in their practice before?
What are the next steps usually taken?
How can I stop it from spreading further?
Is there any possibility the infection could have gotten into my bloodstream (I started having headaches, chills, fatigue, abnormal amount of gas, and dizziness w/in the last 3 days)?
Is there some way to get some relief or speed up the healing process?
Are there any best practices for this type of infection besides keeping it clean, dry, and medicated?
Would anything described warrant a trip to the ER (asking bc my partner has been very worried about me and has mentioned it several times)?
Thank you for any feedback.
Edit: Formatting since I'm on mobile and additional observations from tonight's bathing and applying medicated cream included in [ ].

Not much to say here since I wanted to see what happened with the Weaver. Enjoy!
Ch. 21

• Oh how creepy is this…door shutting, handle gone, and the Weaver softly saying “who's in my house?”
  
• Holy shit why does she look like that?! Don't tease me with the young body but then have The Ring girl’s face attached to it. She's definitely a double bagger, absolutely terrifying.
  
• Omg Feyre, you go scorched earth and set fire to the entire cottage with a candle instead of using your flamethrower ability with your hands and torch the Weaver. SMH
  
• Escape through the chimney though, that's smart. This girl has some bright moments
  
• Wait, is the Weaver cooking faeries?! And is she weaving their entrails or flesh or something??? I mean, on the one hand that's just plain gross, but on the other, why don't you just weave you a new face???
  
• Isn't Feyre like super strong now? Why doesn't she just punch through the chimney?
  
• Weaver is gaining, please feel free to use your mind bullets at any time now Feyre. Also, feel free to step in at any time Rhys and help out lol
  
• Oh wow, the Weaver made her house of out of the bodies of her victims, this is the stuff of nightmares
  
• “What the hell did you do?” LOL Rhys just chilling on a tree, winnow the fuck out plz and ty
  
• Dude Amren can just vanish vomit? I think my question about fae plumbing has now been answered!
  
• So the ring was just a memento from his mom? Makes sense
  
• Thank you Feyre for finally coming to your senses and wanting to learn how to fight and how to use your abilities. It only took almost dying again to realize it
  
• Oooh diving into Rhysand's pensive! Let's see what he shows Feyre
  
• Damn, Ianthe wants some High Lord D!
  
• Oh interesting, so Ianthe does have ulterior motives…this is like some bene gesserit scheming going on. At least Rhys knows not to stick his dick in crazy. Much respect, he's channeling that Lucien energy again!
  
• Very cool developments!
  

Ch. 22

• Oooh some Mor backstory, thank you mommy
  
• Damn so faeries are just as petty as humans when it comes to selling off their daughters…BRUTAL
  
• Good guy Cassian always coming to the rescue, this guy chads
  
• Oooh Feyre chose Azriel to carry her, Cassian and Rhysand are like wtf
  
• Oh nice they're in the mortal lands now.
  
• Quick side bar: what's Tammy been doing all this time? Is there any palace left? I'm assuming it's rubble from all of his tantrums of losing Feyre. Or maybe he's going through all the bureaucratic faerie red tape to demand an audience with the night court. I'm surprised Lucien hasn't tried to make contact, but I'm guessing he thinks this is for Feyre’s benefit.
  

Ch. 23

• Oh shit it's Elain and Nesta! This must feel surreal for Feyre
  
• Damn Nesta is cold-blooded. No sympathy for Feyre at all
  
• Why doesn't Feyre just explain that they'll glamour everyone and ward their house so no one knows that the faeries will be in their town?
  
• I'm wondering if Nesta is jealous at all with Feyre. I bet she's waiting for some high fae to sweep her off her feet the way she talks to Feyre about bouncing from court to court
  
• Nice! No time to waste, let's get the meeting started
  

Ch. 24

• Oh interesting Feyre's last name is Archeron? Hmmm….Cursebreaker sounds better
  
• Also, is this meeting turning into a triple date???
  
• Lol Azriel doesn't want to be here at all
  
• Dinner too??? They just need to pair off now
  
• I'm sure there's meaning behind where everyone sits at a feast, but I'm ignorant to all that decorum.
  
• Cassian sitting next to Elain though, the first move has been made!
  
• Interesting, so human food doesn't taste good at all to fae? How is it different?
  
• “I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even.” THE SHADE. Cassian choking on his water in response is hilarious
  
• Hahaha Cassian found his lover, he's sizing Nesta up and she's having none of it.
  
• Lol she's not even acknowledging him, this bro is in love.
  
• OH SHIT Elain mentioning Clare Beddor and both her murderers are in the house! And Rhys is just keeping his head down eating shit food lol. Peak awkwardness.
  
• Bro…Cassian is straight up imprinting on Nesta right now. He wants that mating bond BAD.
  
• Just two rooms? I bet Rhys and Feyre get the room with just one bed.
  
• LOL Rhys just side steps the awkwardness with his multi-dimensional closet, that's super handy
  
• “Nesta is a delight, by the way.” Bahaha I think deep down in his heart of hearts he knows Nesta has a hold on Cassian and he’ll be seeing a lot more of her
  
• Lol they're talking wages now? And they have banks??? Lines of credit? What's the APR on that Velaris Platinum card?
  
• Awww Rhys is butt hurt that he missed Feyre's birthday…I'm sure he'll make up for it somehow. Maybe his mother's ring???
  
• “My money's on Nesta…So’s mine.” LOL put me down for a dime on Nesta as well
  

Ch. 25

• FINALLY some element bending training.
  
• Feyre wants to train in private because Rhys is a distraction? Lol if that doesn't scream I'm into you I don't know what is
  
• “You could try rubbing it on certain body parts and I might come faster.” Hahahaha bro why don't Rhys and Lucien get along? These guys have the same snarkiness
  
• Oh cool, some inter-dimensional pen writing, NBD
  
• “I'm watching Cassian and Nesta get into it again over their tea.” lol can we get a chapter on this interaction? That sounds better than reading about Feyre staring at a candle for an hour and not asking for help
  
• “Life is better when you're around.” I mean, how long is this little Do-Si-Do between them gonna last? Just kith already
  
• OH SHIT it's the Attor!
  

These recent cliff hangers have been great so far! Let's hope Feyre taps into her abilities and freezes the Attor’s nuts off. Thanks for reading!

Hi, Our 10-year-old daughter hit her head on the bus about six weeks ago. After that incident, she got headaches and her doctor said it was most likely a concussion. It’s been almost 6 weeks and she says that after strenuous exercise or after she dances, she’s a dancer, her head starts throbbing, and she has short headaches. I was wondering if anyone has had experience with concussions and something similar to this. she has no other symptoms, no nausea no vomiting no imbalance. Please advise.

So for context, I have a sensitivity to weather events and air pressure changes that can give me headaches in a day or hours before oncoming storms, tornadoes or hurricanes warnings watches give me intense ear pressure pains. During normal storms, I’ll have a headache beforehand sometimes hours or a whole day beforehand, next, a couple minutes or even mere seconds before it rains, I’ll get shiver cold chill tingling and shake like I’m shaking off excess energy, and then in 15 to 20 min or so when it releases and rains, the headache goes away and I will get the sleepy, drowsy, content, peaceful feeling and have this cold chill tingle pitter patter feeling that feels like misty rain drizzle sprinkling but fainter. When lightning is very intense or particularly colse, my skin will tingle and my hairs will stand up but it’s not as close as others have reported when this happened to them. During last week, I had a bunch of different little things happening to me all at once that all started about the same time, last Wednesday, maybe Tuesday, and peaked last Friday and have thus far prolonged but have been slowly dropping off. I have had super vivid lucid dreams. Out of body experiences are ridiculously easy at the moment when normally they are more difficult to attain. Prolonged hypnogogic states between awake and sleep are happening every time I fall asleep and wake up and my sleep schedule is abruptly all out of wack all last week. The super relaxed mindless drifting morning meditative like relaxation and peacefulness you get when first waking up is lasting most of the morning instead of just 15 to 20 mins. Empty mind and mindful meditation peacefulness and serenity are coming to me absurdly easy when normally I have to gradually quiet and focus my mind. I am very sleepy relaxed content-at times almost very scattered, confused, or spaced out, difficulty focusing or mustering up willpower to do stuff-it almost makes me think of how I am when tipsy drunk but no physical effects of alcohol and I haven’t started any new medication or diet changes that could cause side effects-, and wanting to just do no work, just sit, lay, and immerse myself in my surrounding environment or the empty mind. With no rain, I have had tingling cold chills like excessive energy or mild electrical potential feel in the air like when near big Tesla coils I saw once on a school field trip and goosebumps on and off over that last week, and it’s more often and intense when I’m outside, same for the headaches. In extreme weather, I will have an instinctive feeling urge to take all my pillows and blankets and snacks and water and will “nest” hunker down in my closet and I’ve felt that urge last week-more so out of an almost winter hibernation feeling sleepy drowsiness and comfort rather than the usual instinctive urge to hunker down-yet no extreme weather. I have an old hip bruising from a playground incident in middle school that acts up when it’s cold and we’ve been getting 70s F weather and yet it’s acting up. I am wanting to sleep or try more lucid dreams or out of body experiences to the point it’s more an urge than a meager want, and my interest in spiritual stuff has increased abruptly to an almost laser focus obsessive compulsive I-want-to-know-everything-I-possibly-can level to where I’m doing one completely different thing and I derail back to spiritual stuff. So all these physical and mental things I’ve experienced last week were very similar to what I experience during storms or extreme weather, but we didn’t have any extreme weather in my area last week, and the before and during storm symptoms happened at the same time while being amped up ridiculously intense, and all this extra spiritual stuff, all starting, peaking, and decreasing all happening at the exact same time, leads me to suspect that something out in the world triggered all this, but the absence of any usual triggering bad weather in the area plus the spiritual stuff is confusing. If anyone actually read this and has any ideas or has or is going through something similar, any theories or ideas would be helpful. Body sensitivity, chemicals, hormones, brain wave stuff, ESP, bioelectric field, chakras, any spiritual or scientific theories are welcome at this point if it means I might get some answers.

I posted in this sub a few times last year when I was really going through it. Brain fog, anxiety, fatigue, vision issues, debilitating headaches and hyper sensitivity (“mini” concussions from small bumps of the head). I had 4-5 concussions over the course of 3 years, with 3 of those occurring within 2 months of each other. Outside of some lingering neck issues, I’ve made a full recovery and want to share what worked for me.
Please don’t let this long list stress you out though. There were days when getting out of bed in the morning felt like an accomplishment. Every recovery is different and only you can know what your body and brain are feeling.
Commitment After my most recent injury I decided that getting better was the most important thing in my life and I completely dedicated myself to my recovery. That’s why this list is as long as it is — I decided I was going to try everything.
Research Learning about concussions is a great place to start! It really helped me plan my course of action and think rationally about recovery. This sub is a great source of knowledge. Complete concussion management on YouTube has some great intro videos too.
Exercise I think that exercise was the #1 most important factor in my recovery. I started by going on short daily walks and doing light yoga in my house and eventually built up to 2x cardio 3x weightlifting 2x yoga every week. I got in the habit of exercising early in the day and felt like it really helped with my mental energy throughout the day.
Diet I tried to eat an anti inflammatory diet but it was hard (I really love to eat lol). I couldn’t go completely keto but I cut out carbs where I could and made an effort to cook all of my own meals with a lot of protein and vegetables. Avocado and olive oils give you omega 9s which are important for omega 3 absorption. I also didn’t really drink at all.
Supplements I don’t know exactly what worked and what didn’t but you should definitely be taking omega 3 (and probably creatine). My stack: - 4000 mg Nordic Naturals omega 3. Can cut down to normal dose after a couple months - 5 mg creatine monohydrate - 2000 mg magnesium l-theronate - 1g ImmPower AHCC (mushroom-based immune supplement) - 125 mcg vitamin d3 - Multivitamin - Dietary fiber + probiotic (gut health is important)
CBD Only way I could get to sleep for a couple months. Great for headaches. It’s also a nice substitute for alcohol when going out with friends.
Concussion clinic + Neurofeedback I went to a concussion clinic in NC shortly after my last concussion. Most of my problems were cognitive so my doctor recommended a neurofeedback program. I was super skeptical at first but it definitely improved my screen tolerance and I felt like it helped with teaching my brain how to switch off.
Neurologist + Nortryptoline Neurologists are really only good for one thing: prescribing meds. There’s a good chance you don’t need to take an SNRI but I had nerve damage at the site of impact that, whenever touched, would cause me a lot of pain and trigger hours of concussion symptoms. I think that my meds (prescribed for nerve pain) helped get some of this hypersensitivity under control.
Meditation There are people on this sub who can speak to this better than me but after a concussion your autonomic nervous system can be in an “always on” mode where you’re constantly in a state of fight or flight. Meditation while concussed is very challenging and won’t immediately zen you out but it will help you notice just how overactive your brain is and help you train yourself to redirect your attention when your mind runs wild.
Physical therapy + dry needling If you have any neck pain at all, go to PT. Seriously! It might be causing most if not all of your headaches. A few months of stretching and strengthening exercises helped resolve most of my headaches. Also, if dry needling is legal in your state, seek it out for really intense neck tightness. My PT offered needling and it was a godsend on my worst days.
Brain challenges I’m a computer programmer so getting back into work was challenging enough but I also made an effort to try to learn a new language and do some daily puzzles to help foster some new neural connections.
Try to relax when I bump my head Idk I still freak out when I bonk. I probably have had 30-40 “flare ups” over the past 2 years. No one on the internet seems to have a great answer for why this happens. I think it’s probably some sort of learned response from the brain in response to a stressor. I recently took the approach of doing everything in my power to chill out when I bump my head on something (including taking cbd immediately after). Not sure if this helped or I just needed time but I hit my head on a cabinet pretty hard last week and experienced no symptoms! That’s honestly what encouraged me to write this post.
I hope some of this will be helpful to someone. Feel free to comment or hit my dm’s if you want any more detail on anything.

In an hour, I will be 235 days sober. I dont’t Reddit a lot, and never make posts, but I felt like sharing this so maybe someone on the fence out there will decide to stop drinking before they end up like me. Everyone knows the consequences of drinking, but seldom ever do I see anyone talk about what living like that is, what the first year of recovery feels like, etc.
I am an alcoholic, and I can never drink again. My body does something with alcohol that no “normal” person’s does. I got hit with a genetic double whammy from two alcoholic grandfathers plus high risk of substance abuse from autism. Coupled with working in a professional industry where consuming alcohol is almost mandatory, ignorance, and a shitty upbring, I never really had a chance.
I never really got into any trouble for drinking. I didn’t start fights, I didn’t get arrested for a DUI/DWI, I didn’t have wrecks, and I didn’t miss work. I had a high-paying albeit incredibly harrowing job and a fiance, but I was losing my health and my mind. Lots of unresolved mental issues and an extremely high stress environment meant that over a period of 2-3 years, my drinking spiraled out of control and I denied it the entire time. I tried to quit drinking, I couldn’t. I forced myself to dry out for 11 days regardless, and it was pure hell. Sweating, shaking, vomiting blood, psychosis, hallucinations, nausea, headache, diarrhea, extreme paranoia, brain fog, and fear. Pure terror, honestly. On the 12th day I drank, and I drank for another 3 months before I checked myself into rehab after losing everything.
My fiance left in a brutally cruel fashion along with her family, she took my dog, she stole cash, she had put me into some debt, etc. I had allowed my psychotic father back into my life previously and he picked this moment of desperation and abject hoplessness in my life to go full narcissist and ruin what little sanity I had left. I ended up drinking myself into psychosis, almost dying, almost committing suicide, and disappearing off the face of the planet before going to rehab. I didn’t want to live anymore; rehab was nightmarish. I made the best of it, but it was soul crushing in every way imaginable.
I joined AA as soon as rehab was over, declared bankruptcy, and am now trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I honestly should not be alive right now, and I honestly still don’t want to be.
Drinking and what I went through because of it and other people has fundamentally changed me as a human being. I am a shell of myself. I deal with constant suicidal thoughts despite psychiatry (and a brain scan, blood test, X-ray, etc. no tumor), I have panic attacks for no reason, moments of intense terror for absolutely no reason, bouts of nihilistically staring at the wall for hours on end, no interest in anything, no desire to eat, inability to sleep, no social life outside of AA, and an outlook on life that is so fundamentally negative that I would not wish this on my worst enemy or any other human being no matter how heinous they are.
No one deserves to live this way, and this is the price I must pay for the last 5 years of my alcoholism. I force myself to work, I force myself to go to the gym, and I force myself to get out of bed and go to AA. Everything I do is a struggle with no meaning, motivation, or joy behind it. I am an automation, a wind-up toy soldier, and nothing more. My insides have been hollowed out, I can’t imagine 30 more years of this, and I can’t imagine ever fully recovering from this either.
Please, if you are on the fence, stop drinking. Don’t become me. It is pure hell, and I’m one of the lucky ones that didn’t end up homeless or in prison or dead. Living like this every single day is almost as much of a nightmare as drinking every single day was. Don’t do this to yourself.
Stop before it’s too late.

Hi! I was exposed to sb on Thursday around 1 it’s now Saturday at 7:30. When I was exposed I took all the proper precautions, washed my hands, kept distance, etc. I haven’t been sick at all other than a little n* that I attribute to anxiety. However I just started running a fever, not feeling n* or any sort of stomach discomfort other then normal feelings of g*s. I just have a 101° fever, headache, body aches, and chills. Anyone think this could be sb?

Mischief walks up to the blue crystal clock. She spins the the big hand with her magic and the little hand lands of three. A blue flame is lit. Mischief walks away into the darkness; the light from the blue clock making her look like a silhouette.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuZbmLLv1vM

A bead of sweat falls down Mischief head. Her hair on the ground and her back up august the wall. Mischief had been doing a headstand for the last thirty minutes. In her mind, doing this action once a week was a good way to keep her blood flowing and strength high. Sun walked outside and saw Mischief up august the wall. 

“Are you gonna stand there all day”, Sun asks, holding a peach in his hand.
“You should try it”, Mischief said under the pressure. She uses her feet to push off the rock and picks herself up. “It helps with strength endurance and it help you think.”
“Hard pass”, Sun says, biting the peach. “You know I’m not good with my arms.” Mischief smirks and says, “That’s not what I heard from Ne Zha~” Sun stopped walking and almost chocked on the chunk of peach in his mouth. He looked over at Mischief and said in embarrassment, “Could you not bring Him up?”
“Why? What’s the problem”, Mischief teased. “Oh right, you still like him.” Mischief laughs and then says, “After a millennia and you still haven't told him?” Mischief continues to laugh while Sun burns a bright red and shouts, “Can you shut up?!” Sun starts to hit Mischief head and she still laughs.
“Okay, Okay, I’ll stop”, Mischief says. Sun stops laughing and crosses his arms in annoyance. “Go train Mk. I’ll see you in a bit.” Sun walks out to the training dojo. Mischief smiles but then holds her head in pain with both of her hands. She keeps her eyes shut and feels herself being surrounded by darkness. Even when her eyes where shut, she could see a being covered in a moon themed cloak.
“No…! Why are you here?!” The being looks back; her eyes glowing a light blue. She turns and starts to walk over to Mischief. Mischief raises her hand and cast a spell, but the being covered in the moon cloak faces Mischief.
I am you, as you are me.
We are two become one.
Mischief opens her eyes once the pain subsides and sees that the world around her is normal. She looks around to see if anybody else is there. No one. Mischief looks at her hands and sees then shaking with fear.
“No…. not this night…! Please, not this night….!” Mischief walked back into the house and looked around for a quill and scroll.

Mischief walks back outside to see Mk and Sun training. She sits under a shady area near the entrance to the waterfall. Mk jumps back and lands on the mountains wall. She pushes himself off and charges at Sun from above. Sun smirks and jumps directly up while Mk crashed to the ground. 

“Missed me again”, Sun said. He picks up Mk with his tail and asks, “Now how did I win?”
“Misdirection”, Mk guesses.
“Correct”, Sun says.
“That seams like a shady lesson”, Mischief yells.
“Too soon sis.” Mk chuckles a bit.
“I’m just saying the truth”, Mischief says. She walks over and whispers, “And I bet Ne Zha would say the same thing if he was here.” Sun gets an annoyed look on his face and says, “Whatever. And plus, I was always better at fighting than you.”
“Oh really?”
“Wait a second”, Mk interrupted, “You two have fought before?”
“Yeah. But it was for training purposes”, Sun says.
“Now that you mention it, we haven't trained in a while”, Mischief says. “What do you say, but brother?” Sun smirks and says, “Your on.”

Mischief and Sun get into their fighting positions on each side of the training ground. Mk sits on the stairs in anticipation. 

“Not using your weapon sis?”
“I don’t need it”, Mischief said with a smirk on her face. Sun chuckles under his breath and says, “Your done if I land this.” Sun charges to Mischief at full speed. Mischief closes her eyes and smirks. She moves out of the way and pushes her brother to the wall. Sun blinks a few times in confusion and looks back to sees Mischief untouched.
“I’m waiting.” Sun runs over to Mischief and tried to hit her multiple times but each time, Mischief blocks his attacks over and over. “Wow, brother. Your getting rusty.”
“I’ll show you rusty”, Sun exclaims. He jumps back and starts to attack with his legs.
“Not really effective!” Mischief takes Sun’s leg and pins him down with her foot. “Moon: 1. Sun: 0. I win again.”
“Mischief, let me up”, Sun says. Mischief moved her foot off of Sun’s back and says, “I thought you fought celestial beings bigger than me. You sure your not getting rusty?”
“He’s not”, Mk says. “He beat Demon Bull King, Spider Queen, and More! He’s strong enough to fight the Jade Emperor!” Mischief could hear her thoughts snap in half. She chuckles to herself in annoyance and says under her breath, “Yeah…. Sure…” Mischief then holds her head in pain.
“Mischief, are you okay”, Sun asks. He holds her shoulders.
“I’m fine”, Mischief says. “It’s just a headache. And I don’t think I’ll be able to train Mk tonight.”
“It’s okay”, Mk says. “Plus, I promised Mei I would help her fix her bike”
“Thank you, Mk.”

The full moon shines from above the mountain; its rays passing the peek of the mountain. A being covered in a night themed cloak looks down on the city below. She turns back and jumps backward. She closes her eyes and summoned a portal under her. The portal was covered in shadows and it’s magic was a dark blue. The being fell thought the portal and landed on a roof with grace and elegance. She looks back and sees the lights on in each building from each block ahead. 

“Now… where are you?”

Mk walks down the street of the city. He was walking home from Mei’s bike shop and he was hoping to get some well needed rest. 

“This is the last time I stay out this late”, Mk thinks to himself. He looks up and sees a being silhouetted bu the light of the moon. “Who is that?” Mk squints his eyes and sees the being crying up at the moon. “Are they crying?” Before Mk could call to the person, they jumped to the next roof and vanish into the night. Mk runs to the end of the block but doesn’t see the being.
“That person….. Why where they crying?”

“I’m sorry, say that again?” 

“I saw a person last night”, Mk explains. “It looked like they where crying.” Mischief stopped in her tracks and hides behind the house. She looks to her right and back down to the floor.
“H-How, the, Hell, did he see me”, Mischief thought with worry, panicking in her mind. Her racing thoughts coming to a halt. Mischief touched her broach and thought, “He was with Mei that night. He must have been walking home when he saw me.” Mischief lied the back of her head on the house wall and says, “Damn you, Moon Maiden…!” Mischief sighs and thinks, “There’s no way I can control her at this rate.” Mischief walks back to the front and sees Mk and Sun walking to the top of the mountain.
“Where are you two going?”
“We’re going to train at the top of the mountain”, Sun says. “Wanna come?”
“Sorry, not this time”, Mischief says. “I still have a bit of a headache.”
“Oh… does that mean no training tonight either”, Mk asks.
“I’m sorry, Mk”, Mischief says.
“It’s alright. Take care of yourself. We can train when you feel better.” Mischief smiles. She then remembered how her mentor from years past was so understanding. She saw a lot of them in Mk. “Well see you later.” Mk and Sun walked up the path to the top of the mountain. Mischief looks off to the side is sadness. She hated lying to Mk and her brother, but she had to protect them at all cost. She could risk to lose them like she lost…… her….
Mischief sits on a rock near the edge of the cliff and looks up at the sky. It had almost been a month since she had been away from the celestial realm: her home. She wondered if the cheetah twins had been playing in the celestial forest around this time. She touches her broach and says, “I miss you, mother…..” Pink magic flew around Mischief and a scroll appeared. Mischief catches the scroll and looks at the wax seal. “This is Ne Zha’s crest.” Mischief opens the scroll and a necklace rolls into her lap. She looks at the necklace and then read the scroll as follows:
Mischief,

**It’s good to hear from you again. I heard from your mother that you moved to earth. I hope Sun hasn’t been giving you too much of a headache. I did some research on what you told me about and it lead me to this necklace. And I also found out that the reason your alter ego is coming out on her own is because she hasn’t been bound. One of your ancestors had the same problem and they had a solution. The necklace I set you is called the moon of Apithaea. It has the power to control your alter ego’s rage. It might help you. I hope you get a hendel on your powers.** 

Could you tell sun I said hi?
-Ne Zha
Mischief chuckles and says, “Looks like Ne Zha hasn’t changed one bit. Still the same helpful prince I know.” She smirks. “And his interest in Sun hasn’t left at all.” Mischief looks at the necklace and then placed it around her neck. “Thank you, Lotus.”

Mk and Sun fight along the mountain Plato. However, Mk couldn’t couldn’t really concentrate. He was worried about Mischief, and he was thinking about the person he saw the other night. Mk was so distracted that he didn’t realize that he had left an opening for Sun to hit him. Sun stops his attack midway. 

“You got distracted.” Mk lowers his staff and shudders, “S-Sorry.”
“Are you okay? You seam distracted”, Sun points out.
“I’m worried about Mischief”, Mk says. Sun looked at Mk and the to the side of him, thinking of how to help Mk. she smiles and says, “Kid, follow me. I wanna show you something.”
“What is it?” Sun taps on the ground and a hatch opens. “Now way! How long had this been here?”
“A long time”, Sun says. He jumps and and says, “Come on!” Mk jumps down the hole and lands in a cavern like cave.
“Whoa…. Had this always been down here”, Mk asks.
“Yup”, Sun says. Mk looks ahead and sees a crystal floating above a pedestal; it’s light casting along the floor. Mk walks up to the crystal and asks, “What is this?”
“This is the crystal of the sun”, Sun explains. “This crystal has protected this mountain for a very long time. It was made over three millennia ago.”
“It’s amazing.” Mk takes a closer look at and then gets a vision.
Mischief looks back at someone; her face angry and upset.
She says something but her words are distorted and scrambled.
“She was your mentor!”
Mk blinks a few times and moves his hand away from the crystal. Sun notice Mk’s discomfort and asks, “Are you okay?”
“Huh? Oh, I’m fine”, Mk reassures Sun.
“If you say so.” Sun says.
“Hey, Monkie King? Can I ask you something?”

Mk and Sun walk along the roof of a building. 

“Are you sure the person you saw the other night is gonna be here”, sun asked.
“I’m sure of it”, Mk says. The two look around. Mk looks to the north and sees the same person from the other night. “Hey!” Sun looks over to see Mk running over to the hooded person.
“Mk, wait!”
“Um. Excuse me?” The hooded figure looks back; her eyes covered in shadows. “I noticed you the other night and I wanted to meet you.” The hooded figure looks at Mk for a second.
“MK…..?”
“You know who I am?” Sun takes a closer look at the hooded woman and gains a surprised look on his face.
“Mischief?” The being blinks a few times and then says, “I’m sorry. I don’t know anyone by that name.” She tries to walk away, but Sun holds her by the solder which makes Mischief’s necklace break off. The necklace falls to the ground and Mischief’s head hands low.
“Mischief? Are you okay”, Sun asks. Mischief looks back with her glowing eyes piercing Sun’s soul from within. Sun could feel a chill go up his spine. “Um, Mischief?” Mischief rushes back and attacks Sun. “Sis! Stop! What are you doing?!”
“Anyone who get’s in my way will be destroyed”, She yells. Sun whips around and holds his sister down with all the strength he has within him.
“Mk, get the necklace”, he shouts. Mk looks over and sees the necklace. He runs over and picks it up. Mischief looks over in panic and rage.
“No!” She breaks free from her brothers hold and rushes over to Mk and holds him by his collar. Sun tries to rush over to Mischief, but she puts of a barrier. She looks up at Mk and says, “I will not be locked up like a prisoner!”
“What? I don’t get it. Who are you”, Mk asks, struggling to break free. Mischief chuckles to herself, looks up at Mk and says, “So she didn’t tell you? Your her apprentice. Surely you can tell the difference.”
“What?”
“You don’t know? I am–!” Before she could finish her sentence, A ghostly rendition of Mischief, the real Mischief, Holds back her own body. Mk falls to the ground and looks up to see the scene taking place before him.
“Mischief?”
“Mk, I’m sorry”, Mischief exclaims. “I got you and my brother rapped up in this!” Sun runs over and helps up Mk.
“Mischief, who is this”, Mk asks.
“Moon Maiden”, Mischief answers, struggling to hold her back. “She’s my alter ego. I can’t control her without the necklace! Get it!” Sun and Mk run over to the necklace. “You have gone out of control for the last time! You going back where you belong!” Moon maiden holds Mischief by her neck and says, You really think you can control me?! I am half of you that lingers in your shadow! The dark side of light! You can’t escape me, Mischief Wukong!” Mischief puts her hand on Moon Maiden’s arm and says, “No…”
“What?”
“Your right. You are part of me. But you are nothing but an alter ego! I have been through hell and back! I have lost my way over and over, but I never gave up! I have kept you back for over two damn millennia, and I’m not stopping now”, Mischief shouts, felling herself gaining power. Mischief breaks free and holds Moon Maiden with her magic. “NOW!” Mk and Sun put the necklace on Moon Maiden. Mischief lies up and forces herself back into her body. Mischief looks in the darkness and faces her alter ego. “I know you are part of me, and it’s time to make peace with the past”, Mischief says. She puts out her hand to her alter ego. “And I want you to face it with me. If you allow me to.” Moon Maiden looks down and says, “Then I guess we really are one in the same.” She takes Mischief hand.
“We are two become one. The shadow of the sun.”

Mischief gains breath and she holds herself up. 

“M, are you okay”, Sun asks.
“I’m alright”, Mischief says.

“Alter ego, Huh? That’s a new one”, Sun says. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her before”, Mischief says. “I though I could control her on my own, but I can’t even do that right.”
“Mischief, you can talk to us”, Mk says. “We’re here for you.” Mischief looks at both Mk and Sun and says, “You know, I think me coming down here was a blessing in disguise. I’m glad you two are here with me.” The trio smiles.

I’m on a 24 hour prescription for my acid reflux, but last night I was dumb and ate Indian food for dinner which always causes me to wake up in the middle of the night with stomach acid filling my mouth.
So I thought I’d try and take Pepcid right before bed to stop it from happening, on top of my prescription med. well it still happened extremely badly and so I took another Pepcid, which didn’t help. And then so i decided to take a third one.
After that I got so ill. Vomiting, diarrhea, fever, chills, body aches, dizziness.
It’s been 12 hours now and I’m still so sick.
Has everyone else ever had this happen?

Hi everyone,
I'm seeking some urgent advice regarding my 10-year-old daughter from Bangalore(India). Earlier today, she had a head trauma while skating. She fell pretty hard, but there don't seem to be any visible injuries like cuts or bruises. However, since the fall, she has been unable to remember events that happened just a few minutes ago.
Here are some additional details:

Age: 10 years old Incident: Fell while skating and hit her head Visible Injuries: None (no cuts, bruises, or swelling) Symptoms: Short-term memory loss (cannot remember events from a few minutes ago) Other Observations: No loss of consciousness, no vomiting, slight headache (as far as she can describe) 

So, 2 weeks ago I was super sick. Thought it was the flu, tested for covid and was positive. Started w the chills, fever, then had stuffy nose & sore throat. I was also superrr dizzy and my left ear felt plugged & full of pressure, so i went to urgent care where they said I had an ear infection. Been taking antibiotics for that.
I was FINALLY feeling better until yesterday I woke up with the EXACT same symptoms that I had 2 weeks ago - insane chills, headache, sore throat (feels like im swallowing knives) and heart palpiltations. I decided to test again to see if it was Covid, and it was negative?
Is this common? Or normal? I just want this to go away😫😫 any advice or any relating stories will Help ease my mind. I’m Anxious!

i’m 5 days late and i still haven’t gotten my period, i have no period cramps or anything although today i had mild cramps on and off but nothing else, it’s been 3.5 weeks since it happened and i took the test the second day of my missed period i took two test and both came out negative. i also barely have any discharge coming does that indicate anything? i’m rly stressed out someone let me know if i am pregnant or not i have no symptoms of pregnancy like nausea headache fatigue vomiting. are these just hormonal changes or i am pregnant pls help.
amipregnant.

I turn 19 in June. I am 5'9 and 130 lbs, white. I don't take any medications or take any sort of drugs/alcohol. I don't take any medications. I've had health problems for a couple of years and cannot see a doctor because of strict parents not believing I have a problem.
-I've had migraines for a couple of years now a few times a week. I do not know what triggers them. I also get headaches that hurt in the front of my head. My migraines include nausea/vomiting, sensitivity to light (sound sometimes). They hurt much worse when I move and trigger the vomit.
-I get nauseated in general very often for no given reason.
-I get very dizzy/lightheaded, especially in the mornings or when I move
-I cannot fall asleep at night, nor can I stay asleep without waking up throughout the night. I sometimes wake up with bad night sweats. I am often very fatigued throughout the day.
-My periods are irregular. I get extreme cramps and I have passed out from it once. I also have an extremely heavy flow and go through tampons in 1-2 hours the first 2-3 days.
-I have bad back pain, mainly in the lower part, that gets worse when I work or stand for hours on end.
-I have trouble concentrating and have trouble with my memory.

My mom has hypothyroidism and is taking levothyroxine for it. Last night she was having chills, and this morning she fell. Her symptoms now are extreme fatigue (I have never seen her like this), some nausea, chills, and a headache. No fever. She can't get out of bed. Since she has hypothyroidism and a lot of her symptoms are hypothyroidism symptoms, I'm thinking that's what she's experiencing. However, she's been taking levothyroxine for a while with no problems. Is it possible her hypothyroidism has progressed and her current medication is too weak now, or that her medication has lost potency?
Edit: She has a fever now so she just caught something and is sick, her hypothyroidism seems fine.

My best friend is moving but uh def felt the slap of my mental illness receiving his response (super kind, but “you act like you committed a crime” is what punches the gut) but also like I need to chill. Have yall ever been a victim of overthink panicky pre-abandonment spiral word vomit? I’m so sad he’s moving and so sad I’m missing out on time w him and I know his answer was super nice and reassuring it also doesn’t seem like he thinks it’s a big deal? I feel like every moment counts - he’s moving in July but is also spending 3 weeks in London. So I feel like time is running out with my best friend and I’m so sad and triggered. :( I hate this illness but also what’s the illness and what’s just meeee? Halp
BPD:
Hihi I have sad news and imma just be honest lol ily but uh I fell asleep on the couch last night and woke up like early morn - and was like well it’s too late to take my meds like it’ll be fine bc I didn’t wanna take them and then not be able to wake up for the hike! So I didn’t take them but haven’t been able to sleep.. at all.. and I just looked at the clock and it’s 9am 🥲 if I go on the hike there’s no way I can thrash tonight and low key I’d rather thrash 😈 ahahahahah I’m so sorry I need shleeeeppp my eyes are legit burning I’m so upset ahahaha 🙃 trust me I was super excited and looking forward to it booooooo I def should have just popped em.. What is hangry but with sleep? I’m sorry 💔 I know it’s like one of your last weekends too snd that’s why I’m even more just like upset about this :((((( fuckkkkkkkkk but I’d hate myself more if I missed tonightttttt I know you’ll understand but I just want you to know that this isn’t just like a I’m canceling bc of something that it’s not Like I wanna spend the most time w you that I can!!!!
Friend:
Dooood don’t worry ahaha you act like you committed a crime 😂 not a big deal at allllll we can see ya tonight!! Get some rest my dude! I’m sorry you had a bad night, but it’s all good I still have more weekends lefttttt