The thing about this climate crisis that no one talks about is that economically, this is not new. This is the same sort of shift as any other massive economic shift we've seen in history, whether resulting from technology or environment or society or any combination of the three. It will be rapid; as rapid as the economic expansion of Europe when it discovered just how profitable colonisation and slavery were. But it's not really anything unseen in an economic sense.
How markets work is this: everything is just supply and demand. If there is a known demand for something, in a roundabout way, the market will ensure that demand is supplied. It might melt a few glaciers in the meantime, or be delayed by a war or two, but it's a force akin to that of nature, or evolution, or cause and effect. The markets will balance. Eventually.

A detour through history

The Chinese never developed eye-glasses. They didn't have the need for glass, because their drink of choice was tea, so the materials they worked with were mostly ceramics. In Europe, the cultural drink of refinement was wine. This didn't need to be kept hot, or be brewed and poured perfectly and all that stuff I'm told is important with tea. But it had requirements and qualities of its own, and one of them is that it looks pretty on display -- and that's why Europe developed and refined glass so much faster than China.
Glass is an incredibly old invention -- it's fragile, much more fragile than pottery, so we rarely find it in archeological digs. But it's been invented in and/or expanded to many many cultures throughout history since at least 2000 BC in Egypt, Mesopotamia, and Syria, followed by the Greeks, the Romans, the Canaan, and the Persians. Basically anyone with an empire, including the Chinese, was making glass. Unfortunately they'd only just discovered transparent glass by the late Bronze Age, when the Bronze Age collapsed due to a series of environmental, migratory and urban changes.
(A good reminder that historically, periods of mass technological advancement are followed by civilisation collapses and dark ages. Until the present, of course. But that's been true of every present.)
A lot of glass-making technology was lost, but some important things were saved and some new stuff was rediscovered, and most of this discovering happened in Europe because they had, as I mentioned, wine. And rich people wanted to show off their pretty, colourful wine, and that only worked if your glass was transparent. And Italy had access to pure silica quartz, plus soda ash via their trade with the Levant, and so some clever spark there developed the first pair of eyeglasses.
And that's how you have Mecca, Italy and Venice (the latter of whom had been producing the famous Venetian glass, but moved all their glassmakers to Italy because they'd built all their buildings out of wood) all mass producing eye-glasses with consistent standards for Europe and the Middle East by the 14th century.
This might seem like a small development, but gradual loss of sight used to be a disability. Like, it seriously disabled people from doing many things. Far-sightedness meant artisans couldn't create and scholars couldn't read -- I can't even imagine how many people died falling off a horse just because they were short-sighted. For civilisations to have access to devices that got them decade of productivity out of some of the most skilled people in their societies was massive. And that's part of how you get European dominance over Asia, because the Chinese economic powerhouses didn't care about glass as much as Europe did. It's not enough to just invent something. To develop a technology, a society needs both the resources to play with and the need to play with it. That's why we get so much advancement from war. You can thank Germany for your microwave.

How on earth is this relevant to the market or our climate crisis?

We have no control over anything but us. And that's terrifying. The climate change that crippled the Bronze Age wasn't even their fault and they still got thrown back to the Dark Ages.
We are going to see our own change in the market. We are going to live it. And one thing is true, whether National or ACT or BP like it or not: fossil fuels cannot continue to be relied upon as a commodity. Not long-term. It's a dying industry, slowly but surely, and it'll die whether we manage to wean ourselves off petrol or whether we use it all up first.
To a lesser extent, this is true of other non-renewables too. We are not at critical mass yet with our lithium-ion batteries, but we're now at the stage where people in the third world all seem to have cellphones. This is not a sustainable practice for a limited metal we have to mine from the earth. When something is running out, we don't have to stop using that material in the things we build; if we start to use it all up, it will soon get too expensive to build with, and that will stop us.
And that's why we have to stop using it: because if you as a country or industry pour all your energy and resources into developing technology based off that now-scarce resource, you will be left with no usable technology when that resource runs out.

What are National doing?

This is a political sub, so I won't mince words: something's gone wrong with National. Something's always been wrong with ACT, but National's change is recent. Power has been centralised in the board and the candidate selection process is no longer in the hands of the rank and file after Steven Joyce's shakeup, instead dominated by corporate interests. And they have dominated. We have a cabinet of lobbyists, and not just on National's side of the board; Luxon has pulled together the whole industry.
When we attribute "intentions" to things like forces and political parties, it can be easy to forget there's not a concerted, rational mind at play behind their decisions, and their actions are influenced by all of the people and factors and forces that make them up. When I say, "National has been bought by lobbyists", I don't mean every single person in the party is corporate shill. I just mean that there is enough corporate, business, and big-money influence in the party that they are no longer being governed primarily by their voter base or even their party members.
Nothing makes this more obvious than National's direction in politics. When your LABOUR and GREEN parties are the ones proposing to fix your climate crisis via free-market ingenuity that we can patent, sell on and capitalise off, something has gone wrong. There is money to be made in climate change, and National are off chasing oil down the bottom of a well.
If we don't wean ourselves off fossil fuels, we will find ourselves paying for it the increased price for them when we don't have the green technology to utilise at the end of supply. If we don't put our minds to green tech and science, we won't have the environment-saving and cleaning and reinforcing products and knowledge to sell on when the demand for them peaks through the ceiling -- instead we will be buying from other countries at big prices, paying to ship their experts here to tell us how to manage our estuaries or dump sites or skink habitats or whatever it is we need to fix next. New Zealand got lucky with our green energy; we were already using renewables by sheer coincidence when the climate crisis struck, and it made our transition to this new world very smooth. We will not be that lucky again.
Look at what we produce as a country. We held on far too long to our wool market out of some idea that it was "what we were supposed to be doing", and it nearly wrecked the country. Because it took us so long to change, and because we'd converted all our land into pasture, the most effective market for us to turn to became beef. Now that market is thriving, and we are willfully ignoring the real economic costs that will come with being a beef export country, and that cost is methane. There is not a future where countries will be allowed to emit methane for free. And there are no methane-light cows to switch to. Not until we develop them.
And this is what people talk about when they talk about environmental solutions still to be developed -- as if other people are going to develop them. That is incorrect. WE are the Cow Country. WE are the ones that should be foremost of the cow-fart field. If we do, we will be the ones benefitting by selling our bio-engineered cows and our science that made it happen. But if we don't, if we trail behind, we let other countries get out in front, and then our industry relies on them, and their industry outgrows us.
And these are all individual product or problem examples, but we are dragging our feet across the entire green industry. Why?

Big Oil does not care if your tech is Green

I say big oil, but there are other anti-environment and pro-corporate interests at play here. And again, there's not some big puppetmaster moving his pawn pieces, but there is influence, and companies don't want the world to go green, because when they do, they stop getting money for all the things they're getting money from right now. They don't care about the environment because they don't have the capacity to care; they are not a they. They are a force, a conglomeration, a hivemind of workers breaking their back for the company, until they clock off and become their own person again.
Their only interest is keeping ahold of their incredibly profitable market, and that market needs machines that use oil, and consumers willing to buy those machines, and people who aren't thinking about switching to a non-oil version of their tractor that doesn't exist yet (because no one has found the need to invent it. Or had the right resources.)
Oil cares about oil. Mining cares about mining. Tobacco cares about tobacco. Beef cares about beef. And we get value out of these industries as a country, as a society, so when they say"This thing is bad for me", we do have to listen to that. Otherwise we won't get our beef, or our oil. But "This thing is bad for ME" isn't the same as "This thing is bad for YOU". And companies are relying on consumers to not know the difference.

Back to National

Tobacco lobbyists have bought out Parliament, and are literally drafting our tobacco laws. And they are just one interest around the table. But they have had a huge effect. Imagine what's happening to the interests of your politicians when you have your lobbyists working together. Imagine where the interests of lobbyists for mining and oil might meet. Now imagine fisheries has a guy in there too.
Our oceans should be feeling very nervous right now.
It's the small influences we can't see that make these big decisions later on. The people who select our future MPs. The people who decide, hey, I'm going to try this new glass technique. But it takes an awful lot of decisions to make a glassblowing society.
A lot of what we do, we don't do consciously, like developing eye-glasses. But the benefit of our open democries, of our information-based societies, of our unprecedented understanding of economies and markets and science and climate, should mean that when we choose to do something consciously, we can do it.
When we don't, something has gone wrong.

A Green Future

To get to the sort of green economy the non-business parties are picturing, you need someone who has the time and acumen to get us there.
That SHOULD be National. There is so much involved in politics; our politicians are running so much. And they're spending most of their time undoing the last guy's policies. Labour's policies sound like the Greens. National doesn't have any except "win". ACT are doing Charter Schools again. And the policies are being made are being made in the interests of business people.
Our politicians don't have visions like Hollyoake of a New Zealand forging our own future, or Muldoon's determination to make things better for the average kiwi, or (Heaven help me), Roger Douglass's respect for politics. None of the old guard are happy with how politics is shaping up, and certainly not the right (or who eventually became the right, in Douglass's case -- this is what he had to say on the subject: “John Key lived by the polls and it’s very dangerous. If you want to help people, you have to tell them the truth. The problem is that the politicians of today, they want to help themselves. So they poll in order to know what to say and it’s disgusting.”)
I think in that one sentence, Douglass sums up everything wrong with the modern National Party. Once upon a time, National were in it to help people. They're not anymore.

Where to now?

It's all just markets.
If National won't change, they'll kill their market and they'll be replaced by a new party, just like the Liberal Party and Reform Party and Social Credit Party before them. National and Labour have always around, but not always as these parties, or in these forms. The political spectrum will move to meet demand -- even when curtailed by corporate interests.
Or National will change, take control of their candidates and board, and live to fight for another century or so.
Either way, the economy will continue, and so will climate change. We will still need to develop new technologies using our available resources, and direct our technology-developing towards fixing environmental solutions. I hope New Zealand will benefit from this, and not just witness it. But if it's not National making the push, another political party will. We can see that happening right now, with the other parties suggesting their own green business ideas that National should be sweeping up votes for. There is voter and consumer demand for green businesses, and National are distracting us instead with shiny baubles because the corporations influencing them don't want you to see them.
Another thing Douglass was frustratingly right about: all our parties are doing at the moment is undoing each other's policies. It's hard to see New Zealand making any forwards progress at all if that's our direction.

Measures, as deterministic and effective as possible, to re-peg DUSD and re-collateralize the dToken system with healthy loans sold against crypto, without permanent expropriation

TL;DR

This proposal offers a structured and maximally deterministic approach to stabilize DUSD immediately and consistently, aims to reward long-term supporters, and to enable projects in the long run. It does not rely on influencing market behavior and does not indefinitely expropriate holders. The primary goal of this approach is to re-collateralize the dToken system with healthy loans sold against crypto, the backbone of our dToken system, everything else builds on top. It involves locking nearly all circulating DUSD and dTokens in tranches and releasing them successively based on predefined conditions.

Goals

• Achieve the peg as deterministically and effectively as possible.
• Enable fair market price leverage trades on crypto, which is necessary for re-collateralizing the system.
• Repay those who supported the system.
• Enable projects to execute their mission and work with real liquidity.

Problem Statement

Current measures to stabilize DUSD rely heavily on influencing market participants' behavior, making the peg too probabilistic. Even if we reach the peg, the assumption that enough collateralized loans are sold against crypto for the dynamic interest rates to maintain this peg is too probabilistic. Relying on assumptions for a peg is problematic, because market participant behavior cannot be controlled and predicted, even if incentivized. While I believe dynamic interest rates can consistently maintain a peg effectively once we reach healthy collateralization levels, the implemented fees are not an effective tool to overcome the massive liquidity of algo dTokens and DUSD circulating today.

Proposed Solution

A new approach: instead of relying on voluntary actions of market participants, force-lock-up all DUSD and dToken liquidity, whilst providing opportunities and clear rules for paybacks based on system health.

1. Locking all liquidity away and releasing it successively as needed

• The defined percentage* of DUSD are locked/removed from each owning addresses and are in equal parts allocated in 50 tranches (1-50). Those are freed/returned to the owning addresses based on predefined factors.
• The defined percentage* of dTokens and relevant LP tokens are locked/removed from each owning addresses and are in equal parts allocated in 50 tranches (51-100). Those are freed/returned to the owning addresses based on predefined factors.
• Locked LP tokens do not receive rewards, they are used to reward new liquidity providers. Exiting at peg is reward enough for those currently invested, no need to make it more expensive.
• As liquidity is then minimal, ongoing measures will buy the DUSD up immediately and incentivize the creation of backed DUSD loans sold against crypto. Those are the backbone of the peg, they are the priority of the proposed measures. All other decisions are secondary and all rely on reaching this.

2. Releasing Tranches

• Tranches with the same number are released together, this means all DUSD tranches are released first, all dToken and LP tranches are released later.
• The following system health conditions for releasing tranches are checked on oracle blocks to avoid high computational load:

One tranche at a time: - DFI market cap 2 times than dToken System market cap - An algo ratio below 30% - Consistent 1% DUSD premium over the period between two futureswap blocks.
Two tranches at a time: - DFI market cap 4 times greater than dToken System market cap - An algo ratio below 25% - Consistent 5% DUSD premium over the period between two futureswap blocks.
Three tranches at a time: - DFI market cap 6 times greater than dToken System market cap - An algo ratio below 20% - Consistent 10% DUSD premium over the period between two futureswap blocks.
Four tranches at a time: - DFI market cap 8 times greater than dToken System market cap - An algo ratio below 15% - Consistent 15% DUSD premium over the period between two futureswap blocks.
Five tranches at a time: - DFI market cap 10 times greater than dToken System market cap - An algo ratio below 10% - Consistent 20% DUSD premium over the period between two futureswap blocks.
This way, 2-10 million DUSD worth of dToken-system liquidity can be reintroduced into the system per week, given a healthy system state.

3. Measures to be Eliminated

• All additional pool swap fees are lifted, allowing for healthy leverage trades on DFI that can later support the DUSD peg. This part is crucial for a healthy restart. A collateralization ratio makes no difference if the DUSD are not sold against DFI as those need to be bought back when the dynamic interest rises due to a discount to support a peg.
• Reward allocations to DUSD bonds are removed; those will be redirected to the community fund until we find a better use for them. All existing DUSD bonds are released, and the freed-up DUSD are counted to the DUSD that may be locked in the tranches together with all other DUSD.
• All negative interest mechanisms are lifted. DUSD loops are unwound, and the freed-up DUSD are counted to the DUSD that may be locked in the tranches together with all other DUSD.

4. Measures to be Retained

• The futureswap mechanism will be retained. It is advised to analyze the futureswap behavior while we are at peg over an extended period. If the futureswap creates unnecessarily high amounts of algo tokens even when at peg, the following adjustment is suggested: making the futureswap spread variable and increasing it if an asset shows higher implied volatility over two consecutive futureswap blocks. This way, the chain gains a bigger trade advantage for stocks that tend to surpass the current 5% limit more often. This will burn more tokens and mint less.
• The buy and burn bot will be retained.
• The rebalancing of the community fund will be retained.
• Dynamic interests will be retained.

5. Introduction of a New dToken System-Wide Fee That Consistently Burns DUSD and dTokens

• A dToken-system-base-fee is implemented on DVM and DMC. This fee applies to all dToken and DUSD transfers from account to account and pool swaps on the DVM side and all token transactions on the DMC side. The fee is initially set to 10 basis points (0.1%). This fee is necessary to account for rising stock prices and reduce the algo ratio.

Percentage Locked

The percentage of liquidity to be locked is crucial as this is a one-time approach. Locking too much liquidity is not problematic, as it can be reintroduced if system health allows. However, locking too little is problematic because maintaining the peg and enabling re-collateralization through backed loans sold against crypto will not be possible. I argue for minimal liquidity leading to a peg allowing for healthy collateralization to support the peg via dynamic interest rates rather than excessive liquidity that the system cannot support. Therefore, I propose locking away 90% of all dToken-system liquidity, leaving about 20 million DUSD in liquidity for the restart. If the system is healthy, up to 10 million DUSD in liquidity can be reintroduced per week. If not, we will wait until the system is healthy enough to support the liquidity.

Further Details

• Loans are all paid back before the dTokens and DUSD are locked in tranches. If insufficient assets are available on the address, they are purchased on the market via the cheapest route.
• Relevant pools are emptied before the dTokens and DUSD are locked in tranches. Trading counterparts are credited to the owning addresses.

Requirements

A hard fork will be necessary to implement these changes. Furthermore, cooperation is needed from relevant projects to handle the balances in smart contracts on the DMC. If they do not cooperate, this proposal cannot be implemented. Addressing smart contracts on the metachain is crucial to treat everyone fairly and ensure the success of the proposed measures.

Measure Until Implementation and Proposal Kill Switch

The implementation of the proposed measures is challenging and time-consuming, it will probably take months. Until implementation, we implement a 50 basis points fee on all dToken pools to burn algo tokens, in hope to be able to activate the following proposal kill switch: If, during implementation, DUSD consistently trades around $1, this proposal is not to be implemented.

Further Food for Thought

Measures targeted at changing voluntary market behavior have had insufficient success, forced locking with conditional payouts ensures fairness and effectiveness. Measures based on voluntary lockups are unfair because those who do not participate unjustly gain a bigger advantage, despite the cash flow offered as recompensation to those who support the system. Additionally, cash flows are costly to the system, either the dToken system or DFI itself. No solution will make everyone happy. However, a deterministic forced approach treats everyone fairly and equally, does not rely on probabilities and ensures success.

Optional

I would argue for future swapping all dTokens at the oracle price to DUSD, making the locking and releasing much easier. Additionally, the upside from here is 10x after fee on a repeg. Assets being worth times 10 should be enough to compensate the owners for the forced sale of their preferred dTokens. If not, we must release DUSD before dTokens, as dTokens might rise in value and the greater liquidity they provide would mean a slower payout for everybody, which is not fair to the people holding DUSD instead of dTokens.

Q&A

Q: If we have little liquidity, users will be angry that the system cannot be used. A: Whether we can afford liquidity at all is a secondary
issue for me. The liquidity we have in the system right now is a cost that, if we can't afford, should not be maintained. If we can afford it, the liquidity will be reintroduced; we have it on the backburner. Additionally, the goal is to attract real liquidity through backed loans, which we will achieve if the product is valuable.
Q: If we have a 10 bps fee on all transactions, there will be less usage. A: I also pay 10 bps on every exchange, usually much more, especially in traditional finance. I pay 2% on every card payment and substantial fees on asset management. For example, at Relai, you pay at least 50 basis points, usually 1%. Fees are charged everywhere; things cost money. I believe a usage fee on RWA is justifiable. RWAs rise in price, so even if the futureswap burns more dTokens than it mints, it may create algo DUSD balances. We have many algo tokens. This fee is a necessary cost that users must pay for an effective synthetic RWA spot system.
Q: Why include the fee system-wide on all transactions? A: New users will probably use the DMC. If DFC is successful, we will likely find most usage there. We want many projects using our dTokens. We need to charge the usage fee where the usage will occur; otherwise, users will flee to DMC where no fees are charged.
Q: But we have the stabilization fee. Can’t we just keep that instead of the base fee on all transactions? A: The stabilization fee makes healthy re-collateralization (sold against crypto) more challenging when the algo ratio is high because the user gets less crypto for his DUSD. When we have high algo ratios, we want more collateralization-based loans sold against crypto. It is the "collateralized loans sold against crypto" that maintain the peg if dynamic interests are raised. A loan left in the dToken system brings a low algo ratio but does nothing if I pay back a loan without buying the DUSD beforehand. Dynamic interest rates stabilize nothing in this case. By first eliminating most algo tokens and implementing a base fee, we can remove this fee and allow for healthy leverage trades supporting the system to occur in the first place.
Q: Why lock so much liquidity? A: This approach is a one-time silver bullet. It must be as deterministic as possible; I do not want to rely on probabilistic assumptions about how market participants will behave based on incentives and public information. In the past, single addresses hindered re-peg efforts, and we cannot predict which addresses will act against the peg efforts in the future. Therefore, we must lock substantial portions of everyone's liquidity. Liquidity is the cost in our current situation, and we aren’t at the peg because none of the measures or whales can afford it. If the chain were a person, it would be flat broke. We cannot afford the liquidity at this point. Let's gradually ramp up the expenses when and if we can afford it, but not before.

About 2 weeks ago, I got semi-blindsided by my ex after a 4 year relationship. I was in the depths of my grief the first few days and thought I was gonna die. But almost 2 weeks later, I feel kind of...fine? People kept warning me about how I'll keep remembering the "good times" and wanting to reach out but to be honest, he treated me like shit so subtly (and sometimes not so subtly) for so long that I cant even look at the "good times" as good. Even if i want to think of the good times, it feels like they were probably breadcrumbs. So, all I'm feeling is relief right now. But is that normal? Is my brain possibly dissociating or distracting myself from the immense pain to protect itself? I mean, i still get this weird constricting pain in my chest and stomach sometimes but its not nearly as bad as it was a week ago.
I wouldnt say though that I'm completely over him. Even now if i think about him with someone else, it makes me sick and I cant even bring myself to unblock him on all the socials. But I feel like I'm close to the acceptance stage? I dont know. I guess I just wanted to know whether I'm on the right path to healing or if I'm most likely dissociating? I dont want to wake up 6 months from now and still be affected by a man who didnt value me even after having me for 4 years.

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.

I apologise if this is all a mess or hard to understand.
My best friend of 10 years Joey (25M) has been with his girlfriend Ellie (21F) for around 7 months now, they are engaged and getting married in a few months time. I’m his best man.
I’m struggling with this idea as I’m quickly learning she’s a little bit (I don’t like to call anyone this but) crazy and I’m not sure what to do.
I few red flags-
Obviously getting married so soon. He’s never talked about getting married before. I know she’s got to have put all these ideas into his head.
Ellie has sent messages to Joeys ex girlfriend Sarah (21F) telling her to kill herself and all this other horrible stuff. Shes even sent fake pregnancy scans to her just to mess with her. (I’m going to come back to this part later as a lot of stuff kicked off yesterday with this).
She’s never worked. Joey has now taken a credit card out and given it her. She’s borrowed a bit of money off his sister and spent it on clothes and mini breaks away. (His family are starting to see the crazy come out now too).
None of her family are coming to the wedding. They don’t even speak to her.
I’ve seen Joey twice this year since he’s been with her. She has a 3 year old kid and if he goes out she has to be with him which never happens because she can never get a babysitter.
Oh and they are trying for a baby..
It’s all a mess. I don’t see how he can’t see what’s going on. Anyway back to them messages she sent to Sarah and the stuff that kicked off yesterday. (I still speak to Sarah, although she can be a bit intense sometimes she’s never done anything wrong to me). Sarah has found out we are all in going to the same event next month at our local bar so she’s messaged one of our mutual friends freaking out a bit worried there’s going to be trouble. Sarah has now messaged Joeys mum asking politely if she could have a work with Joey and Ellie about leaving her alone because she doesn’t want trouble at this event. She’s told her about these messages and his mum is not happy. His mum has now messaged me asking if I know about them and I confirmed it all because I’m not going to start lying for people. We talked for a little bit and she has started to notice a lot of things off with Ellie too.
Now Ellie is denying sending all this stuff, even to me which is crazy because she has shown them to me and even bragged about sending them to a few people in our friend group. Sarah still has all the messages saved as well.
Now I’m in the middle of what feels like a family war. I can’t even speak to Joey because Ellie pretty much controls his phone and she can’t be apart from him.
Like what can I even do in this situation? I feel like I’ve caused more trouble by telling his mum about the messages and some other stuff about her.
I feel like ignoring everyone for a few weeks and hope it all blows over.

Why exactly is it such a terrible mess now? I mean when you look at all the problems in society and all of the negative things going on, etc. etc. Theres all of these things like the "friend zone" and "nice guy" and "bad boy" Blah blah blah and all that nonsense. Yet there are bars set in place that are holding us all back with all these so called things going on. For example. Say you really had the hots for a woman, and you'd love to tell her that if you had consent you would love to pound her hard in the nearest love hotel. Yet of course there are also many factors such as preferences, personality, what you have in common, hobbies, etc. What confuses me the most is how sometimes kindness is mistaken for weakness. Or being a good and decent person and instantly becoming positively obsessed with a love interest in a good way is misunderstood or shot down by rejection? There are very many factors in play here. What perplexes me is why things are in such a chaotic state in the first place. Shouldn't a man and a woman just love eachother because they truly like eachothers personality, looks, etc.? Why all the games? What the hell are we doing as a species or even a culture?
Everyone has their preferences, hobbies, career, ambitions, etc. Why is everything so divided these days?
Why can't we all just find love easily by being ourselves instead of being put into this stupid game of "what ifs" "friend zone" or any of the other balderdash and nonsense?
If you love someone for who they truly are, then the answer should be you would be willing to love them forever, even beyond death. Yet, society has deliberately divided the family unit and has also parasitically infected and divided people. We must all wake up and realize that True, Pure, Genuine love is indeed the way.
Why then, is dating in the modern era so difficult when in the ancient era people would just be with one another because they genuinely liked one another? I feel things these days are very out of touch and I'm just trying to provide a positive point of view on this subject. Everyone has their preferences, likes, dislikes, hobbies, skills, interests, etc. Why then does society insist on this stupid "game of love" or "love is a battlefield" When everything should be plain as day to be your genuine self? I feel there is a major disconnect in society and humanity in this era because many people have forgotten their history and as consequence repeated it. I do believe it is our responsibility to create a new era in which love is found more easily with those who would truly appreciate you.
For example. say there was a man who had endured psychological, emotional, and all kinds of other misfortune all his life. Yet, there was a woman out there who would sympathize with him and have compassion because either she too had been through the same thing or in many other potential ways was just looking for someone who she could relate to or understand? (as well as on intimate levels)"
I think that many of the things going on today in this modern era have inhibited progress and made things increasingly more difficult. We don't need lies, corruption, greed, or any of that nonsense.
What we need is peace, love, progress, genuinely taking care of the environment in the correct and ethical way. Not some electric vehicle that creates more waste and emissions to produce than just a vehicle that modestly runs on gasoline. I'm sure I may get hate for what I stated there but I don't care, this is an in depth discussion.
What indeed happened previously in history? Where did people lose touch? Where was the disconnect? What ever happened to two people genuinely loving one another for who they are rather than what "society" told them to do? Brianwashing needs to be made illegal to prevent further damage. I say this from the perspective that there is far too much heartbreak and sadness in the world. Love and happiness is the answer to that.
What do you all think? Please do share how you truly feel, as this is meant to shed light on what we must change in order to have a bright future.

Hi, I’ve been ‘27 F’ with my boyfriend ‘37M’ for about 15 months. He’s a doctor, and I’m a nursing student.
He has two biological children and one stepson from his previous relationship
As I said earlier, I just finished my 3rd semester of nursing school while staying with him because he’s close to my school, work, and the hospital where I do my clinical rotations.
I used to think he was the love of my life. God put us together for a reason just because of the way we met and the timing and everything (I thought)
We have the same values and similar views on almost everything. However, we’re also very different, which keeps us on our toes.
THE ISSUE AT HAND: It was a good day. I worked out and did my nails, and I felt pretty good. He picked up the kids on his way home from work. We all decided to watch DUNE. I want to point out that he’s been drinking. We were all excited!! I went to the kitchen to get something to eat because I was starving.
We started watching the movie, and he was talking the whole time. His daughter and I told him not to speak because we couldn’t listen. He was “explaining the movie to us,” according to him. He kept talking, and his daughter said, “Shut up.” He was annoying, but at the same time, she was pretty rude to him.
So, I Left and went to the bedroom because it was too much. A couple of hours later, he came into the room after his daughter got picked up and asked me why I left. As I was talking, he walked away (HOW FUCKING RUDE).
His 4-year-old was still up at 11 pm with his iPad in his room, and his stepson was playing video games on the computer.
I followed him into the living room to explain why I was upset and how disrespectful he was. He (drunk AF) got up and said, “I don’t want a random girl to be screaming at me in front of MY KIDS.” We started going at it.
I heard: get the fuck out of my house. He said that to me once and PROMISED he’d never do it again!! BUT HE DID!!
I couldn’t believe what I heard. A man who calls his girlfriend a “random girl” and tells her to get tf out of his house in front of his kids isn’t a man; he’s a boy
If he’s disrespecting me in front of his kids, he’s creating a way for them to do the same.
To make it worse, we were both yelling in the bedroom when his 4-year-old son told me to shut up, and his dad praised him. I was speechless
I got my suitcase and was sobbing on the porch for 30-45 minutes, and he walked inside and locked the door, knowing damn well I had things in the house. I called him, but he hung up on me multiple times. I banged on the door for another 20 minutes, but he never opened it once. I left without My things.
He tried to undermine my perspective/feelings like he was God or psychic.
I felt like he used his kids against me and disrespected me in front of them. Is this how you treat the person you “love”? He made me feel unwanted, unworthy, and unappreciated. I WILL NEVER FORGET THAT!
The question is, did he cross the line?

Figuring out if I’m the wrong one in a relationship.
Hi All,
This post is just me trying to rack my brain if I have unrealistic expectations so please be extremely honest with me.
Me(24) am dating a man(29). We do NOT have similar interests however my way of giving love is to give gifts and shower someone with small acts of service. For example I make him lunch - almost everyday for work. We work in the same space. Secondly, I give gifts like somedays I’ll surprise him with a chocolates he likes or some random electronic product that he’s been talking about.
He, however doesn’t want to make me feel the same way. My love language or the way I want to receive love is through acts of service or through small tiny surprises or you know just a small lovely gesture like randomly telling me I love you in the middle of my day or asking me how I am. These are small things. This is my first official relationship and somehow I feel like the girl in me wants things without asking. But I gave up on that when I realised that he probabaly doesn’t understand what I want.
So I communicated, I told him I want flowers, small tiny surprises even if it’s a 10rs chocolate or maybe like a tiny note which I can read and be happy. No I’m not asking for expensive gifts, expensive dates. I do understand he has money issues hence on most dates I pay. Don’t ask him for money. As a matter of fact in our years of dating he HAS never planned a date for me. Never. I told him that someday I want to wake up and I want you to text me that you’re taking me out on a date. I planned my own bday plans, I even planned every single date that we go on. I planned his bday to the T. During his bday month I planned something for every week before his official bday. He isn’t affectionate and I’m always the one asking to spend more time or take wfh so we can spend our day tiegther. He will never take that initiative. He will agree to it but will never take the leap to plan it. On our anniversaries, on my bday, he didn’t gift me anything. Just paid for the food we had.
I have asked and when after asking too I felt it wasn’t happening is when things started getting ugly and I started fighting. He told me he doesn’t do anything for me because I fight but I told him that all our fights are only because of your lack of efforts so maybe if he started showing a little affection and effort we won’t have a reason to even fight.
I am tired of asking. I am tired of begging. I have brought it up so many times that I feel like a beggar asking for love. Please tell me is this normal? Am I asking for too much? How can I deal with this.

Im 24 M bout to be 25 and even tho my life’s not where’s its act I’m Just gonna keep moving forward with my and continue to get better and work on my self so I can get the things I want in life, a career, marriage, and a family, I turn 25 next month and hope my life gets better as in 5 years I’d be a 30 year old man and I hope I get everything that I want in life even though thats not how it works, I gotta be better as a man and human being and go l make shit happen, it’s not gonna happen on it’s.

Hello and bore da (Welsh for good morning)! After a long grey winter and spring, summer seems to have found my corner of the world and it’s got me in a great mood. I’ve been enjoying a long weekend this weekend with a mix of spending some in the local countryside and heading into Cardiff to go to the theatre last night. I hope you’re having a fun weekend too!
And while the alone time is fantastic and I’m more than happy in my own company, it would also be nice to have someone with whom I can share those sorts of experiences. Getting out and into the world and making memories that can be talked about and enjoyed together. If that sounds good then there’s more about me below.
I’m an open-minded guy willing to try new things and love exploring new places. I’m excited to travel to South America later in the year and am aiming to go to every continent at least one, I’ve covered the Northern hemisphere but this is my first time going below the equator! At home, I like all the usual things, films, reading, tv and music, have eclectic tastes in all of them and I’m up for giving recommendations and excited to hear your favourites too. I’m also learning Welsh, doing a bit of writing from time to time (should do more), enjoy cooking and getting out in the countryside for some casual photography.
Personality wise, I’m non-judgemental, passionate, with a dry sense of humour and enough of an ego to hopefully be endearing. I definitely wear my heart on my sleeve and am open about how I feel. While there’s not much I expect in a partner, openness definitely is, so if you’re one to play your card close to your chest or keep people at arm’s length, we’re probably not compatible.
On the subject of being open, I’m more than happy to see where things take us. I don’t have any specific relationship goals in mind, so up for discussing and figuring out what works.
Diolch for reading and I look forward to hearing from you.

When a man watches naked women and masturbates to whom who he has never talked to,never did anything good for her,never asked for her will to be intimate with her.
after a while the brain learns to only say yes go get it and that is when a man becomes danger to himself and those around him.when he sees any girl even his cousins,siblings all those around him his brain is going to say yes go get it because that's what it has been programed to do over those years of repition.the brain was not given the will to choose who to be intimate with.
after repetition the mind is like I can have sex with any girl I see infront of me and that is when all the rape and molesting begins.
You won't have no will to choose who to be intimate with.porn and masturbating destroys the way our brain naturally operates then it destroys the person.
Study all the serial killers they all start with lust/porn.e.g ted bundy
Study yourself also when you masturbate watch how your way of thinking about females change.
Deprogram the mind to make a better reality for yourself.
And I know you can do that.
Your life is going to be much more fun.
Get back back on your feet and stay strong.
You can and you will accomplish what ever you Desire.
You are strong.
Say I am strong.

 I don't watch porn or mastubate. I can afford whatever I desire. I am healthy. I always manifest money out of thin air. 

Eveytime you wake up say those word and repeat it through out the day.
Even though you don't believe it yet keep repeating you will when you see it happen physically.
Love you all.

Hi All,
This post is just me trying to rack my brain if I have unrealistic expectations so please be extremely honest with me.
Me(25F) am dating a man(29). We do NOT have similar interests however my way of giving love is to give gifts and shower someone with small acts of service. For example I make him lunch - almost everyday for work. We work in the same space. Secondly, I give gifts like somedays I’ll surprise him with a chocolates he likes or some random electronic product that he’s been talking about.
He, however doesn’t want to make me feel the same way. My love language or the way I want to receive love is through acts of service or through small tiny surprises or you know just a small lovely gesture like randomly telling me I love you in the middle of my day or asking me how I am. These are small things. This is my first official relationship and somehow I feel like the girl in me wants things without asking. But I gave up on that when I realised that he probabaly doesn’t understand what I want.
So I communicated, I told him I want flowers, small tiny surprises even if it’s a 10rs chocolate or maybe like a tiny note which I can read and be happy. No I’m not asking for expensive gifts, expensive dates. I do understand he has money issues hence on most dates I pay. Don’t ask him for money. As a matter of fact in our years of dating he HAS never planned a date for me. Never. I told him that someday I want to wake up and I want you to text me that you’re taking me out on a date. I planned my own bday plans, I even planned every single date that we go on. I planned his bday to the T. During his bday month I planned something for every week before his official bday. He isn’t affectionate and I’m always the one asking to spend more time or take wfh so we can spend our day tiegther. He will never take that initiative. He will agree to it but will never take the leap to plan it. On our anniversaries, on my bday, he didn’t gift me anything. Just paid for the food we had.
I have asked and when after asking too I felt it wasn’t happening is when things started getting ugly and I started fighting. He told me he doesn’t do anything for me because I fight but I told him that all our fights are only because of your lack of efforts so maybe if he started showing a little affection and effort we won’t have a reason to even fight.
I am tired of asking. I am tired of begging. I have brought it up so many times that I feel like a beggar asking for love. Please tell me is this normal? Am I asking for too much? How can I deal with this.

Let me begin this post from a small excerpt from my essay because it exemplifies my feelings toward Invaders, as an anime, and as a series;

So what makes it special?
Well, you see. This anime is a lot more interesting than you might think. Not only from within the anime, but in real life as well. This is a story of overzealous ambition, unresolved injustice, and quiet resilience. A story penned by a talented writer who never got the spotlight...

Now, that's a bold statement I made for an anime aired a decade ago. An anime that barely anyone here have ever heard of. An anime that have been washed away from the sands of time. So, I know what you're thinking. Why?
What did I see in Invaders that the majority here didn't?
To answer that, let me start at its creation, from a subsidiary of a conglomerate, from a man in his late 20s, hailing from Chiba Prefecture, who have recently dipping into the world of light novel.
It's 2009. You have established yourself as a capable ​visual novelist, with works such as From Here and Beyond, Killer Queen and Tsukihime doujin works. You also had just debut your first novel, Ano Hibi Wo Mouichido two years ago, and you are ready to release another one under the same publisher of your previous book, HJ Bunko.
On March 1st 2009, the first volume of Invaders of the Rokujouma ( Rokujouma no Shinryakusha?!) was published. Unbeknownst to him, this series would unexpectedly change his trajectory forever. And ever since then, 47 VOLUMES, including two side stories, has been published continuously for 15 years! Yes, you heard me right, 15 years going! And no, it still hasn't been cancelled, nor gone into hiatus yet!
There is a part of me that still boggled for how long it still going for a light novel series, much lest in today's light novel climate. But I guess it made sense why HJ kept the book going as Invaders have sold 1.5 million copies in Japan alone as of April 2022. Not an impressive numbers compared to other, more established works, but it isn't an obscure LN that on one even heard of. Invaders is one of HJ Bunko's biggest seller in their library. Even more impressive when taken into account that it is made in-house (ie. not acquired from another source).
Hell, even the website promoting the anime is still up to this day!
So, why am I bringing this up? Well, it is about the same reason as to why I chose the word "adored" specifically. Because Invaders is special to me, not for its character-driven story or its cast of colorful characters, but for what it represent. This series dared to defy convention set by a genre devoid of such, and set out to do its own things, not necessarily to redefine it, but to tell a good story regardless of. And it suffered consequences as a result, but it makes itself stands out above the rest. A quiet resilience, so to speak.
Now, I am reserving the full retrospective review of the anime in-depth, and the stories behind the author, and the crew in my essay. But instead, here I will talk about the difficulties of recommending this anime to any first-time watchers. Partly due to being a harem anime (and the stigma that follows it), but also because I think it is suitable for subsequent rewatch to appreciate the slow-paced, two-parter story arc of each main girls, the character development, and the general vibe it gave, crafted by the hands of Shin Oonuma. The first-time watcher don't have that commitment and dedication like I do to see other than the surface level, even if you keep this post in mind. It's hard to discern if you will like or dislike it because the first episode will influence your perception of the series, even if you keep an open mind. I can't change that, nor forced you to watch from my perspective.
Lest I'll have to deal with people like him who misunderstood Invaders as nothing more than a fodder (and an excuse for their laziness). Oh, I am reserving my vitriol for that review specifically in my essay, and I'm not gonna hold back. In other words, Invaders is NOT your typical harem anime. It never tries to, it wants to march at its own pace, with its own feet. And I commend them for it. And to those that says otherwise, opinions be opinions and I have no control over it, but states it with facts, not bullshit.
I don't know what to do for its 10th anniversary, July 12th. Maybe a rewatch thread to expose more people to this anime that I cherished? Or releasing the essay on time, even though I have restarted it four times now? Hell, I'm still weary of posting this in the first place but this post here, that gave me a spark to write this. And a courage to do it. Heh, appropriate, isn't it?
~"~"~"~
I'm Ghost, and I proclaimed myself as a superfan of Invaders. I have watched this anime multiple times, dissecting every nook and cranny throughout its 12-episodes run. And it have opened my eyes to other animes that I would never gave a glance to. It teaches me to be appreciative for what it is, both the good and the bad, and to see it eyes to eyes without prejudice, without expectations. It isn't a masterpiece by any metric, but nor it is being a trainwreck. It has its strength, and it has its flaws. And it want to be seen for what it is, instead of what it isn't.
This is a story of strangers from all walks of life learn to open themselves, and relied upon each other.
This is a story that values appreciation of self, companionship and the media we love.
This is a story of Room 106 of Corona Apartment, and how a high school boy lives together with a ghost, a magical girl, an underground people, and an alien princess inside the small rokujouma.

This is Why I Adored Invaders of the Rokujouma!

I'm jumping into a new CSM force with release and Im trying to decide on a paint scheme.
I feel the most inspired by the look of emperor's children (though maybe more a light purple than a bright pink), but detachment wise renegade raiders or warp talons look the most fun to me. Since I'm a competitive player I'm pretty sure I'll start running the raiders.
As for the EC side of things it's mostly the colors I like right now, I'm not too keen on getting noice marines until they get a new model release and even then it'd depend on the strength of their rules
How much should I care about this when it comes to painting? Should I go with what I like the best for both the paint scheme and detachment or try to match them to a real legion?
What about if EC gets a real release. Would it be weird to keep playing them as CSM if I don't like the new codex?
Another option could be to go with a completely made up paint scheme. I painted my knights in a beige, iron and copper scheme that Im pretty happy with and could match them to a big chaos force. Only reason I lean away from this is cause it's more fun trying new colors.

Ive been with my husband for the past 12 years and we have known each other since we were 17. I’ve been around his family for that long. But yet, his parents and I still don’t have a good connection (he’s Caucasian and I’m Pacific Islander). We were both culturally raised differently but my husband is very cultured because he has chosen to be friends with people who come from different backgrounds which exposed him greatly to diversity.
Ever since I became a mom, my relationship with my in laws just progressively went downhill. They were the least understanding and most judgemental folks when I was a new mom. They were a know it alls type of boomers. I breastfed and coslept with all my babies. My MIL did the exact opposite. They were very boomer in their type of parenting. My husband and I are both authoritative and “big little feelings” type of parents. They gave me a hard time when I was going through postpartum with my eldest. My MIL had apologized in the past for her actions as she wants to be a part of my children’s lives. But my FIL never really apologized but just said “we are new grandparents. You need to give us some slack.”
Every Mother’s Day, to be honest, we celebrate it with my side of the family because they are my main support. We see my MIL the day before or after. My MIL never says Happy Mothers Day. She says hi how are you? How was your Mother’s Day?. No direct greeting at all which I find very strange. It communicates to me that she is struggling. I don’t know what it is. But to be honest, if I were ever to be a MIL, I want to be a MIL that will support and embrace my future daughter in law and treat her like my own. My family has warmly welcomed my husband and treated him like their own son. My husband thoroughly enjoys being around my family more so than his side. He told me that he was often micro managed as a kid and his parents asked him too many questions growing up and that they handled everything for him. I really feel for him. He comes from a good family but they are not perfect. I don’t really understand my in laws especially they’re hot and cold & passive aggressive treatment. Every time we come over, there’s always a feeling of unsaid tension. They are nice in front my face but the energy the feed off is very tensed. In the past, I’ve felt very disrespected by them especially my first year as a new mom. Thankfully, I come from a loving and supportive family. My parents are my rock and support.
From what we notice of them, they only care about the kids. When I shared with them that my daughter started some activities, they wanted to come by and watch. I let them watch one of the activities. But a part of me wants to relay to them that you can’t have a relationship with my kids without having a relationship with me first. I’m legit waiting for the right time to say this to them. Today, they asked again if my daughter is signed up in any classes. I said to them that she is going to do some summer camps this summer. I was waiting for my MIL to ask if she can come so that I can tell her how I feel. I don’t care about awkwardness but man, it’s not just about the kids. It’s about me and my husband too.

If you happen to see this, I hope you know it’s a letter to you. About how I’ve been going through mental gymnastics for the last 3 months wondering if you love me at all and if I should fight for the love I know I feel for you. Even with you constantly pushing me away, I stayed. I stayed and smiled and was there for you even though it was killing me inside and I was constantly feeling broken and being out back together. There were so many mixed signals. Some days where it seemed like you wanted me there and wanted to be with me and others where it felt like you couldn’t wait for me to just leave.
We talked about how you felt and I was honest and told you how much I loved you but if you wanted to leave, I wouldn’t stop you. All I asked is that you were honest and didn’t stay because of me, that I couldn’t be in a relationship with you if you didn’t feel the same. You assured me that this is what you wanted so we stayed together. The whole month after that you were still so distant but I just put on a smile and made sure you were okay. You were going through a hard time so I knew I’d have to be patient and things wouldn’t go back to normal right away. So I waited and waited for you.
Then a month later, another incident. You told me you were sorry and that you wanted to be with me and assured me it was nothing. We got to have a nice deep conversation after that. It made me feel optimistic because you had never opened up to me before. You always keep me at arms length. You explained how you were really feeling and I was able to understand where you were coming from. Again I stayed because you told me this is what you wanted. This time all I asked was that you not lie to me and just show me you love me. You claimed that you did but never showed it. I told you what I felt I was missing so there wouldn’t be miscommunication or trying to figure anything out. Again I never expected anything to change right away so I waited and gave it time. Which brings us to today. Still nothing.
Not a single attempt has been made to meet my needs while every day I tried to meet the needs you had expressed months ago. Every day I would tell myself I’m doing something wrong and I’m not trying hard enough but I realize it’s not me who’s not trying, it’s you. I’ve been beating myself up for months trying to make this work and keep you happy while I’ve been crumbling on the inside with a smile on my face.
The sad part is, I’ve had this conversation in my head multiple times. And every time I think about voicing my thoughts, I get scared and back down. You’re my only friend, my best friend. You know things about me that no one else will probably ever know. To throw that all away is the scariest thing I’ve ever had to face. You don’t feel the same and have other people you can go to, I have no one. I can’t even hate you or be completely angry with you. I can’t blame you for how you feel. I just feel like an idiot that’s been led on thinking everything’s fine for years before this. Oblivious to probably obvious signs that this was all falling apart. I probably won’t be able to forgive you right away, but I hope you find what you’re looking for. And after some time you decide you want to give this another shot, reach out to me. I’m not gonna stand around and wait for you so don’t assume it’s a guarantee, but you are the one I want to be with, even if I’m the one that’s ending it. In the end you’re the one that didn’t want me, I’m just protecting what’s left of my sanity before you break me completely.

The whole thing is my fault. We had been together 5 years. I knew a year or year and a half ago that it wasn’t going to work out but I didn’t know how to do it. My hand was finally forced since we were going to move soon. I had actually agreed to the move until I realized she meant it to be permanent in that city. It shouldn’t have taken that to make it happen though. Hell I broke up with her roughly 3 years ago and she convinced me to stay and try to make it work. I should have stayed with my gut then. I was to weak.
I have hurt her so much. I’ve shattered her. Probably caused scars that will last into future relationships. All because I was to weak. Because I wanted to keep the peace. I blindsided her because I always said what she wanted to hear. To try and make her happy. To keep the peace so I could do what I wanted or not get in a fight. My weakness has caused her so much more unnecessary pain. Wasted so much of her time.
Why couldn’t I do it? I do love her but I think long term this wasn’t going to work. I couldn’t see us being married and living happily ever after. I couldn’t see raising kids with her. But I couldn’t tell her that. She’s a wonderful beautiful kind person. We have so many good memories but my last memory will be her tears and the pain in her voice. Because I was too weak. She could be healed and likely forgotten me by now.
She begged me not to do it, was willing to give up so much to stay together. I can’t take that though. I can’t take away everything she wants in life to be with me. I can’t hold that gun to her head that I may break up if she ever wants to move. I can’t hold her back.
I stand by the decision that breaking up is the right move but the pain on her face made me want to go back on it. She doesn’t deserve what I did to her.
We lived together, had a dog, furniture, a joint card. Now I’ve blown it all up because I knew when I started it that it wasn’t going to last. She kept saying it doesn’t make sense and how could it? How do my actions make any sense. The only thing that came of them is more pain than if I had been honest to start.
That’s all gone now. The dog is hers. The dog won’t understand why I’m not there anymore. Why I can’t play or cuddle.
She’s going to think it’s her fault when it’s all mine. There’s no way to convince her of that though.
My family and friends keep saying they’re sorry to me like how? After what I’ve done how?
I knelt my head to God tonight for the first time in awhile and didn’t even pray for me but just for her to find all the happiness she deserves.
I’m sitting in a gas station parking lot at 4am after losing $400 at the casino. I can’t sleep or distract myself anymore. I think this is the worst thing I’ve ever done which probably isn’t all that bad it’s not violent or anything.
Idk just needed to vent all that out. Thanks for reading.
Edit: just to be clear, I’m not suicidal and I have some place to go but I’m choosing to stay out to try and process.

So I moved from a county to another as I changed my job to a much better one March this year.
on my first day the neighbours were harassing me and knocking on my door in unreasonable hours asking me to move my car from my driveway as they have "an agreement" amongst themselves to keep my driveway for the neighbourhood bins!!
I have been shouted at and chased by one of them without considering that if there is any agreement then the landlord haven't mentioned it to me.
fast forward, I called the landlord and as he lives just down the road he showed up at my doorstep in 10 minutes.
the story begins here, he found out I have kittens (on top of the declared cats in the contract) and he went mad and started to be aggressive shouting and going mad and grabbing my 4 weeks old kittens to check if they have fleas! They shouting again then he left slamming the door behind him. Then he walked back and asked me how fast I can find another place? Then left completely.
I have CPTSD and what happened affected me badly so I sent him an email the next day stating that his behaviour made me suffer and I wouldn’t want to stay anyway after what happened and I want him to issue me the leave notice.
He then started throwing everything back on me saying that I am the one who’s requesting to leave and he wants to charge me for reletting costs nearly £500.
I moved out and hired a professional company to clean the property and claimed my full deposit back from the DPS. The landlord went mad and sent me an email requesting the reletting costs of £500 + the disposal of all the carpets of £830 + stains of the stairs of £50 + £75 as he said there’s a strong urine smell comes from behind the washing machine!! And in total he wants my full deposit and he wants me to pay the extras on top, but he’s happy to take only £700 as he thinks it’s “extremely generous of him”. He sent me the email on Friday evening and wants the response by Monday morning otherwise he’s going to take me to court for breaching the contract and threatening me of claiming more if I don’t accept his generous offer!!
What are my rights here? And what can he do?
Knowing that my carpets were on the floor not his, and I still have the receipt of the professional cleaning company and the cats were only allowed in one room not all the house! And there’s no clause for the reletting costs mentioned in the contract.
I don’t feel it’s fair to pay this much for a place I stayed in for only 3 weeks! And I mentioned before to him that I will be happy to contribute towards the reletting costs but won’t pay the whole amount as it wasn’t my decision to vacate.
Please advise me!

I (M42) and my spouse (F40)
I just had the shock of my life, and possibly the most dramatic upheaval imaginable. I'm scared, concerned and i wonder if anyone else has a similar experience. This is concerning my soon to be ex-wife. Not an easy read or even to type, but strap yourselves in. We were married for 13 years, had known each other for 23. She was a child that grew up in a war in her home country, and was effected by it more than she let on. During the last 4 years of our relationship, she started developing incredible anxiety and depression. She would become like an exposed nerve, and every perceived slight became something she would ruminate on for days at a time. We had some events in our marriage that were incredibly stressful. Our son was born prematurely, our daughter when she was born was also traumatic. She was always highly strung when i knew her. i was very much the calming influence to her and it was a role that developed in our dynamic. i would be her rock and safe place. Things started to change, and dramatically so. I travel with work and she would look after the kids. i would be home large parts of the year, but i would have to go away sometimes for 4 weeks at a time. When covid hit, we were both home for a better part of 18 months, and i started to notice things that concerned me. She began to become incredibly paranoid about neighbours. She was certain they were spyi ng on us somehow (even though they were 80, and not at all interested in us). This spiraled from the neighbours commenting on the length of our grass. It effected her, and she became fixated. Any new neighbours she instantly distrusted, and she believed they all spoke badly of her.none of it was true, but in her state of hypervigilance, she was misinterpreting signs. A strange look, or half glance was enough to make her feel unsafe and scared. This slowly devolved into her being fearful of being spied on in the shower, people who walked dogs the same time each morning past our house were doing it to spy on us, etc. I could see it was draining her, and making her very ill with stress so we discussed maybe going to therapy, which she did. During the years we were together, she had been on various anti-depressants to cope with depression. I always chalked it down to post natal depression and the stress being a mother brought to her, especially when i went away. She attended therapy, but would stop when it became uncomfortable. She then opened up to me one day regarding it. It turns out that she was molested as a child by a family friend, and had buried it. that coupled with seeing her childhood friend die from an explosion (which i knew about) had effected her more than we knew. The therapy seemed to make it worse, and since that point things took a massive nose dive. She was an incredibly bubbly, happy and cheerful person to everyone. or so i thought. She would sometimes drop the mask at home, and i could see the turmoil developing. I hate to admit it, but i was blind to it for many years. she had masked it from the very beginning. Her paranoia got worse and worse. she came off of her antidepressants and started using weed vape pens to be able to cope with the incredible anxiety. I watched her drift apart from me over the last two years, her kindness towards me vanishing and almost a resentment towards me. She would complain about the new house we had bought and that she hated it because of the neighbours. We discussed moving, but she realised in her more lucid times that the issue would follow her whereever she went. The last year together she would speak about moving to another country. I said i would, but after my parents, who are old, passed. i didn't want them to not see our children in their final years. We had grown apart, she had this strange push-pull dynamic with me. One day she'd love me and be this caring person, the next cold and distant. I tried incredibly hard to pull us back together whilst dealing with her delusions of paranoia that were still ongoing, but the more i tried (and at some points i was quite combative and forceful) to get her to communicate, the more she pulled away. There was hardly any intimacy, which i yearned for and would comment on. She would initiate it sometimes, but for me, i'm ashamed to say, i complained about it a lot. She would have sex with me on occasion, and then if we argued later say "i didn't really want sex, it was like rape". This hurt me to my core, and made me bitter about how we were. The arguments became worse and worse. She started resenting me for trapping her. That was her reality. i had trapped her in the relationship. It wasn't true, but she was upset i travelled with work and could escape when she couldn't. It was never escape for me, i travelled because i had to. Her and the kids were all i wanted to be with. Travel to me was a chore.
Slowly she withdrew more. The more i tried to help and talk, the more she withdrew. All the time she was still paranoid, and now believed the neighbours were spying on her with cameras in the garden. the "cameras" were garden lights.
After three years of constant paranoia and her anxiety, it was starting to effect me. We couldn't go out in the area as she hated the neighbours. Yet to their faces she was bubbly and happy, smiley and almost overly kind. Yet when we were alone, the mask would slip and all her thoughts about them would spill out. Our social life started to be affected,
Anything i said was misunderstood or taken in such a way that i was insulting her. If i said she was silly for thinking in a certain way, i was calling her stupid. Anytime i tried to logic something out with her regarding the neighbours (for example she believed they were watching her shower) it was dismissed. I actually showered and told her to ask if she could see me from the garden. She was confused when she saw she couldn't.
The delusions became worse, and she became more and more paranoid. The textured glass in the bathroom was the wrong way around in her eyes, so people could see in. The motion activated light at the bottom of the garden was a camera, for sure. things like this.She withdrew more and more. I had to go away on a work trip, and the day before i left she asked for a divorce. I was hurt, but said "we can talk about it when i get home" when i arrived at the destination i was working across the world, i messaged her. No response. I tried multiple times until eventually i got a text "The kids will be taken away from me, and i will be sent back to my home country" I rang my father who lived very close to us to find out what was happening.
She had asked him to take her to the police station. She said to report the neighbours for spying, which she did try to do. they obviously didn't listen. She was taken to hospital by my father as she was having a mental breakdown and behaving strangely. I told my boss i had to fly home as something was happening. he booked me the earliest flight and i flew back. I was arrested from the plane. She had accused me of Rape, Control and coercion and ABH. Things i would never do. I was arrested, questioned and told not to go back to my home or to contact her. In one day i lost everything. I was in shock and was an emotional wreck. Worst of all i was concerned and scared for my wife and kids. She blamed me for her emotional state. said i had caused everything and had abused her constantly for years. After a week of staying at my friends house, social services got involved as the kids were missing school. It turns out she was taking the kids to hotels because she was terrified of staying at home. The kids told me later that "mummy thinks men are after her" instead of telling any authorities this, she said it was because she was scared of me. Social services believed everything she said. I was under investigation for the allegations, although not charged. The investigations were ongoing for three months, and in that time i wasn't allowed to contact her at all. Unfortunately in my fear i contacted her repeatedly. She had me arrested for harassment, and i was charged and convicted. I wasn't ever abusive in the texts, but i did contact her a lot.
I secured access to my children through a rushed family court order. I also placed a block on her leaving the country without seeking my permission with the children, as she had taken my passport details to apply for the kids passports without my knowledge. I did this due to her erratic behaviour and i knew she wasn't stable. My father thought i'd over-reacted, but my ex was so good at masking she hid how she really felt even to him. Oscar level masking.
Looking back i realise how bad it was. She ran from her home country at 18 and always ran. she always wanted to move jobs if something went wrong. She would cut off long term friends in an instant if she felt any pressure form them. Her first instinct would always be to flee anything. Any littlle insignificant thing or slight would become something she'd chew over for weeks, often applying the worst case scenario that would then become her reality. The truth was she was constantly afraid. I think at the end i became something she was afraid of too. My determination to keep us together and keep her from falling apart became too much for her. I wasn't always kind and was exasperated a lot. I was too demanding on someone that was exhausted, anxious and clearly unwell. Unfortunately i didn't realise this until too late. I still see the children, but have zero contact with her. She filed a restraining order due to the harassment conviction which i will adhere to. I'm currently going through family court again to secure further rights. She applied for full custody and has said some very terrible untruthful things at court to almost destroy me and remove me from her life. I'm a broken man because of it all, but staying strong for the kids.
I hope there will be some sort of resolution in the future, but i realise that she's scared of me now as she is scared of everything. She told me near the end that she trusts nobody. This broke my heart. The court on the last visit realised that something wasn't right. they have ordered a investigation into our family, and it will hopefully be reported in June when we go back to court. Her medical documents have been re-visited and statements taken. My father witnessed some very strange behaviour and has reported it. We just have to see what happens. She has requested to sell the property we lived in, and i'm slowly watching the life we built implode. She also has asked for the order that stipulates the need for permission to leave the country lifted. June will be the crunch time.

Like, I'm just done with people making it their whole personality that they're cis. Just because you decide to keep your d*ck doesn't make you a man, lmaoo! It's all because of the conservative agenda and politics being pushed into every single corner of media. They are trying to cis our kids and make them fit into society like total normies.
Cis men will never be men. That's just a delusion which they decide to follow because nowadays, psychologists cannot be trusted due to the agenda! If you want to go around identifying as a normie, I won't stop you. Just leave the kids outta this mess!!
Don't even get me started on how insensitive those coons are. They literally don't give a fuck if someone hate-crimes them. Like, if someone seriously calls you by your incorrect pronouns, you should be SCREAMING and SHOUTING at them like a not-normal person. Your mental illness that you decide to embrace so badly is literally preventing you from having basic human emotions. It's all because of those calculated conservatives! This country will get so much better once Biden is re-elected in 2032. We need to ban straight media so that no one else can get indoctrinated into the agenda. We need to make sure that the kids stay "trans" (I know that word is a slur, but I have to say it in this case) so that conservatism is erased entirely, and every US state becomes like Commie California!
All hail Karl Marx and the communist woke gender movement!!

I am really struggling to get this person out of my headspace. I know this person is not right for me, I know this person did not treat me right, and I know I would have been miserable if I had stayed in the relationship with a man who held no respect for me. But I absolutely need help getting over this person.
My biggest struggle since ending things. Is wanting to get out and meet people. I don’t trust men right now. It has been over a year and I cannot bring myself to trust that the next person is actually genuine, or that any value would come from a relationship.
I have been getting my side of things in order. But it deviates me that my ex has just moved on to a genuinely good woman. I needed him to do this so I can try to cut my feeling for him. I pushed him to do it. But the idea that he can and is capable of treating someone with respect and kindness that I was not allowed when I gave so much. That is killer. How do I shake this guy out of my head? I have to keep contact because my son. But this just hits. It is not jealousy because I couldn’t care less that he is dating. I just feel devalued

I’m a 15yr female Freshmen and have a crush on a guy even though I have a boyfriend. I know it sounds wrong, because it is, but I’ll explain further. Over this past year I have started developing feelings for a guy in my 6th period World cultures class. I’m just gonna use his initial, F. F is 15 turning 16 this summer and is the class clown. He’s so cute and in the beginning of the school year we would make eye contact a lot. He has messy blonde hair, which he’s always fixing in class, and two pretty blue eyes I love to get lost in. He’s so funny and though I was going to switch from World cultures in my 2nd quarter I chose not to just because of F being in there. In December I got his snap from my friend A and started trying to befriend him. I admired him a lot cause I was supper shy and seeing him just be himself was fun and wanted me to try and loosen up more. I swear he would walk into class and the room would brighten up. Whenever he gets embarrassed he hides his face in his hoodie and keeps that stupid ADORABLE smile on his face! In February I Gifted him a valentine to show my appreciation for him being such a nice guy and he was sweet about it. But then apparently this girl named Kate who he was talking(?) to at the time found out. And she hated me after. I didn’t know of this yet but her friends would sit by my locker eat day and when I went to go get my stuff from it they would make fun of me. I felt so upset cause I really have a hard time with my insecurities and Since I’m sensitive and would cry often because of it. I eventually just decided to just carry around the extra pound of stuff in my bag every day so I wouldn’t pass them. Then out of the blue F had blocked me. I felt so hurt and upset because he was the first friend I ever made by myself and I really valued him as a person in my life. I spent the week in tears and it didn’t make it better that he would then stare at me in class, almost like he was waiting to see how I would react to it. A week later I contact him on titkok and tell him that I was sorry if I made him uncomfortable and that I could switch classes if nessasary(due to my 504 i would’ve been granted permission to do so) He replied that I did nothing wrong and it was just he started talking to someone and they had him block me. I wished him luck on a concert he had coming up and then left him completely alone for days because I just couldn’t face him. I didn’t know what I had done to his girl but I felt so guilty I would get sick, I have a pretty weak stomach, I would throw up in the bathroom and cry a lot throughout the weeks. What made it worse is that my friend Z had at the time recently passed away, and since F was one of my favourite ppl to talk to that I trusted I was even more upset that I couldn’t talk to him. Then two weeks later as I’m finally trying to get over it Mr F unblocks me, throughout that whole week his friends had been snapping me stuff about how Felix was upset and wanted to unblock me but was afraid to(which I don’t understand it’s not like I bite). When he did it was a Thursday and he had a school concert I watched. He was on electric guitar. It was firefly’s by owl city, aka one of my fav songs. I loved watching him play, I was happy as a puppy😁 but then when I went to the bathroom to check my hair, my ex friend Madi came in. She asked if I liked him and I just got flustered. She then said he had said he liked her so it didn’t matter and she might say yes to him. I was confused because I had JUST been blocked because of his last talking stage! So how would he have also recently confessed to Madi? I go in 6th period and walk right up to him, I was a bit nervous cause I had to look up higher to meet his gaze. I asked if he had recently told Madi he had a crush on her in the past 2-3 weeks and he looks me in the eye and says no. I said “alr thanks“ and went back to talk to my friend. Either him or mad was lying, and I assumed madi but then oohhhhh then after school he admitted to confessing to her. It's 3:00am(quiet literally) and I'm at 10 percent, this is part one but I'll complete the rest tomorrow