Wish i hadn t met you poem

so, to condense, i was ‘diagnosed’ with bipolar and put on medication as a teen, but to my understanding it was only temporary, but i really don’t remember much from this time period, i didn’t even remember being diagnosed, i found out recently. the medicine they put me on i remember made me feel 10x crazier, so i just stopped taking it. this was about 5 years ago. right after this I met my girlfriend and she’s been so great. I haven’t had a major ‘’manic” episode since the time mentioned above, but my uncle died in february and looking back, i was on a complete downward spiral since then.
i’m normally not a drinker but i started drinking, i don’t watch porn, i started consuming it everyday. i was calling every number in my phone making all these grand plans about business ideas i had, talking a million miles a minute, getting into fights, looking into moving to asia and was looking at dating websites in asia.
she found a screenshot on my phone and i had to explain the whole dating website thing and she broke up with me and she was really hurt by me telling her that i was considering moving away, but she forgave me after a week or so and we worked it out, she was very understanding of my grief and she was working with me to correct how i spoke to her when she caught me. (calling her crazy, minimizing, ‘gaslighting.)
then i went to a race with my dad and then we went to a bar and i was unreachable for over 16 hours, and she panicked like she didn’t trust me, and she asked if I just wanted to be single. I told her yes and then tried being friends with her but she was really short towards me (she says i was hostile towards her and had no empathy for her situation) I told her i was working on myself which wasnt a lie, but i was also on tinder, dming girls on instagram, following a bunch of girls from high school, talking to girls irl, getting their numbers texting them whatnot, all while i had told her i wasn’t even thinking about that stuff.
she figured this out because she knows me better than anyone and always seems to know things before i can tell her, and so she was heartbroken asking how i could do this starting only a day after we broke up, but like i said, we were broken up, so i didn’t see anything wrong with it.
she forgives me and still tells me she’ll be there for me, she expresses for the first time she thinks i might have bipolar and i got pissed off and yelled at her. we called a few times because she wanted to and she was taking the breakup very badly (not eating, crying everytime we talked, etc) and i told her i’d call her one night and i didn’t and she ghosted me for a week.
for that week i was so fucking depressed not having her text me, and this i think made everything worse. she texts me on mother’s day asking how id been since it had been a week and she was worried and i was so excited to talk to her, i was sending message after message and she was so dry (“that’s great!” “im so happy for you”) then i would text her little updates but she wouldn’t answer unless i asked something, this went on for about 4 days.
during this time shit was so bad between my dad and i that i moved out to my cousins house, and that went bad just because my cousin is a piece of work and wasn’t super interested in helping me, so i was in a vulnerable place and i called her like 4 times before she answered and she was drunk as fuck. i got mad and she basically got sad that i was mad and i told her i wanted to get back together and she told me no while crying and we talked about everything and i wanted her advice because like i said, she’s really smart and she always knows how to talk to me and what to say.
the next day i was so pissed off because she had told me no that i called her at work and told her i don’t want to get back together until 6 months from now. she started crying and i just had to go, i couldn’t hear that at that time with everything going on with my cousin.
fast forward i told her i was just salty about her rejecting me and i couldn’t only be nice to her if she was my girlfriend and she didn’t say anything so i didn’t really give her a choice i just told her that she was my girlfriend again.
she’s been very understanding but brought up the bipolar thing again. i hadn’t been sleeping and i was getting the cops called on me left and right and i was keeping information from her, i broke my phone and went out into the woods for days just carving “jude loves emily” into trees in 101 degree weather was unreachable for 18 hours because of my phone, got into a car accident, got into countless screaming matches with my dad in front of her, left her with my dementia patient grandmother for 72 hours while me and my dad went to arizona, she was trying to call not knowing what was going on. i called her on my dads phone crying a few times. she’s been weird and i can’t get home for several hours because im walking on foot, but she’s definitely going to break up with me and i don’t know what to do. she told me i need to go to the hospital but even then she’s going to be fucking checked out of the relationship and i don’t know what to do no other girl cares about me like this

Hey everybody! Apologies for the long one in advance - I need advice and then I would like to start a discussion.
So I am a 25year old girly and I decided that for the first time ever I need to put myself out there and start dating for the first time ever (when I say dating for the first time ever I mean dating that doesnt just happen to you but when you actually put an effort to meet people). Naturally, how does one do this? I decided dating apps it is - because how else to start. Did not expect much from it, went on a few first dates (some ok, some horrible) until I met a guy that seemed like a really nice one (25m). We had a nice first date, talked a lot, kissed a bit. Met a week later - same situation. For the 3rd date I went to his house and everything was great. For the purpose of context that started around 3.5 months ago. Since then we have been meeting on a regular basis both in house and date wise but because we both have a really busy schedule and we live an hour of a train ride from each other its not been the easiest to schedule meetings. But it still happens regularly like every week or 10 days. He is a really nice person and super sweet and seems really kind. I was really ok with keeping things super casual and without putting labels on the whole thing as I am terrified of actually being in any type of a relationship. I was ok with the whole thing and it did not even cross my mind that I could get uncomfortable with anything but a couple of weeks ago it started bothering me that this is kind of where we are and its not going anywhere. I am naturally also terrified of starting any type of convo about it even tho I should. The thing is that I of course started liking him more and more as a person and its an either or situation now. Either we go with this somewhere or I need to evacuate myself from this before I develop actual feelings. He is really nice and thoughtful and he listens and remembers little things, he checks in every once in a while but our whole communication was not based on texting (which i love because I hate texting) so the convos between the dates are not super long or interesting. He often is busy during week days and I often run out of the city during weekends (I am still a student and I have a pretty free semester while he is already working full time). We make plans in advance when are we meeting in the future and he checks in after dates to say he had a really nice time and everything, but…it started to not be enough for me. I cannot point out that sth is off or wrong but even tho I didn’t have many expectations in the beginning of this adventure I am starting to have them. My question is actually what should I do? Should I just talk to him super directly that I would like sth exclusive (not necessarilty a relationship but to know we r exclusive) and that I want more contact in general? How to even start such a convo when you did not discuss a lot of serious things? Anyways I am really bad at this and I chicken out when I actually need to start a convo. Plus, recently he wasn’t responding to texts much and I thought sth was off but as soon as we met he apologised for it and gave an explanation. I don’t want to read a lot into somebody texting or not texting good or enough but in this day and age I don’t know what to think. Conclusion is that when we see each other everything is really nice and great but I start to really question it between dates, and as they r not every 2 min it is a lot of questioning about where does he stand and I do not like feeling like this. I think I might be projecting a lot because I am scared but who wouldnt be with horror stories of people dropping off the face of the earth after you have been regularly seeing them for months and months. I just do not want to get hurt that is all.
Offtopic but somebody needs to do sth about this current dating scene and all the ghosting and people being treated as expendables because it is a war zone out there and we all lost all respect towards each other as human beings…I would like some comments on this too because I feel like nobody is respectful of anybody anymore and that scares me….just the fact that my biggest fear is not being dumped but actually somebody just vanishing into thin air without even a “bye” is not normal and I wonder I you guys agree…

For some background, I wasn’t raised religiously at all. I went to church with my favorite aunt as a kid a couple of times and even then I felt silly, out of place and as if I was putting on some kind of mask. I stopped going when I was shown the Passion of the Christ at like age 5 and thought it was the weirdest thing ever.
I’m not sure what I would classify myself as now, maybe an agnostic deist with a very absurdist outlook😅? I’m now married to someone with a very different upbringing (Christian homeschooled) and I love him but he fails to see why I don’t get the same comfort from his religion that he does. I have some mental health issues and tend do have some rough days and tbh it just feels like such a lame thing to be told “just believe in jesus/god and he’ll help you”. It actually almost kind of hurts my feelings to be told that, as if I am doing something wrong and have to “repent” to not live in constant mental anguish.
I wish nothing more than to be able to place my faith in an “all knowing all loving” deity and be truly happy but I can’t. It makes no sense to me. I’ve read the Bible and I failed to feel the presence of “God” within those words (unless the presence of god is that of uneasiness), failed to see how this book , written thousands of years ago by people who I can’t verify, has any sort of meaning to me or hold any importance in my life other than it being an ancient collection of stories to try and explain the world around them. It’s the equivalent to the Odyssey or To Kill a Mockingbird. And yes I’ve tried reading it “with an open heart”. Again I just fail to see what divine role some words on paper are supposed to play for someone going into it blindly. Christians act like it’s a lifesaving piece of text but how am I supposed believe people rose from the dead or that God talked through them. Finding out people actually believe this stuff is crazy as it literally could not be less convincing (you guys have to realize this right?) and not backed up by scientific data.
I am told to pray: to pray about what? I live in the most privileged country in the world and the things that I pray for are bullshit compared to what sick children and people in abject poverty pray for. If the most helpless people’s prayers aren’t answered why would my silly requests be fulfilled? (Ps they haven’t) Also, I’d like to point out that if I ever “heard the voice of god”, I’d check myself into psych ward. Or what if I do hear the voice of god and he tells me to do terrible things? How can anyone prove that it is not god talking to me but that I am crazy?
Tried Going to church recently;didn’t make me feel good as they spewed hate about gay people and Arab people. I tried to be supportive of my husband but had to walk out or I thought I was gonna strangle the pastor. I understand all churches are different but how is that kind of rhetoric supposed to uplift anyone or encourage “a relationship with god”.
I have tried time and time again to have faith. I’ve opened myself up for new opportunities with this but I never feel that sense of euphoria or truth that everyone says I should. Infact, if it really is all true, I fail to see the reason why he decides to reach out to some people and not others. That’s not a characteristic of a deity I want to follow and worship.
Also heaven sounds worse than eternal oblivion. Why would I want my soul to live forever in a constate state of euphoria and worship? This life is enough and when I’m done I want to be done. That’s what makes this life worth living; pursuing my dreams and desires, not the (conditional) promise of “salvation”
Just curious as to what you guys suggest I do to find god or explain why he hasn’t “answered”. I’ve asked my husband (devout Christian ) these same things and he couldn’t really give me an answer. He actually broke down crying when I said I don’t think I will ever understand that stuff and didn’t.

I literally can’t help but fall more in love with this man everyday. I have never loved someone so intensely like I love him. I have never been appreciated and adored before like how he does it. I came out of a 10 yea3 years married abusive relationship with a narcissist. I was cheated on, lied too, belittled, other women sexualized to me, raped in my sleep, and so much more. I really thought I was never going to be able to open up again to another man. We met and we’re just FWB because a girl has needs ya know. And boy I did not think we’d end up together. We’ve been together for a little over a year, but we’ve been involved with each other for a year and a half. I’ve never felt so calm in a relationship, I’m just so happy. My life could be crumbling around me and this man keeps me strong and determined. So for anyone going through an abusive relationship, leave. Find better, you deserve better! It is out there, your abuser doesn’t love you. It’s a difficult journey, but boy is it worth it!

i was doing so good until last month. i got the idea that she broke up with me before christmas because she was cheating on me with a new friend (one she didn’t think i knew about but saw in her following list a month after we broke up). she broke up with me to “focus on herself” and bc she “wasn’t ready for a relationship” which partially gave me the thought she was lying.
so i made a burner on ig and another dating app to investigate. not proud of it, but i felt the need to get the truth. she posted a few weeks ago that she met the love of her life and so did her new gf. i weirdly felt relieved, like i could actually move on knowing the truth. then i realized i’ve been keeping all my feelings in and i didn’t want to keep them in anymore. i wrote my feelings about our relationship (including how i felt deeply hurt by her), broke no contact, and read them to her. she was silent and smirking the whole time. i told her i knew she had a new gf and not to hurt this new girl or use her as a rebound. she said she “didn’t plan on it.” it wasn’t until yesterday when i was going to delete the accounts that i realized she and her new girl blocked my burners. i wonder if that’s why she was smirking.
either way, i don’t envy the new girl bc there’s only two ways that relationship came about; as a rebound or as a result of cheating. allegedly she’s experiencing the same problems around boundaries that i had with my ex, which genuinely makes me feel bad for her (esp bc she’s a mom) - she posted this in a shared gc on the dating app. i’m fluctuating between grief and relief; but ultimately i’m upset with myself for regressing like this. i made thirst traps on that app (my ex saw i’m sure) before deleting, despite having 0 intention of anything; i just wanted attention. i was doing so good before she came into my life. choosing to stay single and devote my time to therapy for a few years was the best thing i ever did for myself. i miss the mental peace i had before meeting her. i miss not hurting because i was convinced by someone that they wanted to build forever with me. i wish she’d left me alone the first time she realized she didn’t want me instead of dragging me along for six months then popping out with someone new barely four months later. i hate that i spiraled over her and fucked up years of therapy. i feel like i’m not even mad at the breakup or the new relationship really, just mad at how i reacted.

A Christian, u/Kestral536, writes,

I’m very seriously interested in converting to Islam from Christianity, but arguments like these seriously miss the mark and come across as just odd.

I strongly disagree. It is clear cut.
To be fair I do not necessarily use this as a sole proof in dawah, there are tons of things I would generally state to a person before resorting to such things quoting mass-transmitted miracles, fulfilled prophecies and mention in past scripture. The Qur'an and getting people to read it is always the first port of call for me.
Most of the dawah I do in day to day life is not like this at all actually. I simply practice the religion and people ask me about it - they are interested - why does this guy at work go and prostrate etc. I sometimes have deeper conversations with people I work with on issues of ethics and morality.
For me, I wish to get people to think critically about truth, about certain notions they grow up. I do not generally throw them in the deep end with miraculous and prophetic proof, and this is not the Sunnah of Allah with his Prophets, who only showed miraculous evidence as a final act before people are destroyed.
Otherwise we fear a sort of "Pharaoic" response. When Musa Alayhis Salam, through forth his staff and it became a snake, Pharoah did not accept. This is a deeper message within the Qur'an, people ask for evidences and when they come, simply reject them. They do not want to accept in the first place, so invent an excuse for themselves.

You’re using a love song from the Song of Solomon where the lover is essentially saying her lover is very very attractive. Of all the things to mention in this the ten thousand part is not saying what you are making it say. The author is saying her love standouts among ten thousand, he’s that attractive that ten thousand others don’t compare. Not that he has ten thousand companions.

It's a wedding song, transmitted by the Rabbis, yes. That is the confessional narrative. Why would the Rabbis transmit a wedding song? Even there are Christian authors I have seen that say it has 'prophetic significance', and Jewish and Christian authors have interpreted the song allegorically in the past.
See, Tanner, J. Paul. "The history of interpretation of the Song of Songs." BIBLIOTHECA SACRA-DALLAS- 154 (1997): 23-46.

Red face, sure, wavy hair, sure, doesn’t say black hair, but since he’s Arab is probably the case. Large joints doesn’t necessarily mean large legs and golden arms.

You know, if you ever do become a Muslim, come back and read this to yourself. I do not know if you will laugh or cry...

It’s saying his mouth is sweetness itself, not that he has a sweet tooth, likes candy, or whatever, again this is a love song. She isn’t saying she likes his mouth because he likes candy.

The hebrew for what is translated mouth is palate , so it is related to taste. However, tayyib if I said the mouth itself is sweetness, we have two more things in this regards. There is a Hadith which says the recitation of the Qur'an is sweetness itself, and we have a miracle of the Prophet Alayhis Salam concerning his saliva being sweet.
But in the most literal sense of palate, then yes, he had a sweet tooth.

And finally the part that is often used most, Muhammadim, the word isn’t the same as how Arabs would say “Muhammad”, it comes from the same root so technically Muhammad means something similar. But translating it as Muhammad makes no sense, is she saying her lover is like Muhammad? That’s like saying this post is all-together . It doesn’t actually make sense.

I mentioned, the -im ending is added as a plural of respect e.g. like Elohim - lit. "Gods" but understood to mean the God, the plural of respect is added thus. Secondly, when you take a way the -im, the letters are the ones whose same cognates in Arabic are used to write the name of the Prophet Muhammad Salallahu Alayhi Wa Salam.
They are so similar, even you are making mistakes in transcription of pronunciation - you wrote, "Muhammadim" when it is "Mahammadim" - as if your own sub-conscious and soul thinks it is relating to Muhammad, a sort of Freudian slip perhaps?

I strongly recommend, please, if you are interested in showing Christian’s actual issues with their beliefs focus on the authenticity and trustworthiness of the Bible from a historical viewpoint, the facts regarding what we know about the authors, things that are very easy to show. Serious Christians are not going to believe things like this, it comes across as goofy and has the opposite effect you want it to.

The turuq (paths) are many, but they lead to the same destination.
Many a Muslim does not need such miraculous evidence to become Muslims. They simply see Islam, the beauty of it, perhaps the Adab and religiosity of the Muslims. Abu Bakr as-Siddique, Radiyallahu Anhu, the first caliph of Islam, accepted the religion on the basis of truthfulness and character of the Prophet Alayhis Salam.
And what is there not to love about a man, who as I recently quoted in a post advising brothers how to conduct personal guidance with others, saw a bedouin man urinating in the Mosque out of ignorance, and did not harshly rebuke him but allowed him to finish and then taught him correct conduct mercifully?
By their fruits you will know them.

Of all the things listed in the song Muhammad has like 1 or 2 or 3 things maybe in common. Things like wavy hair and a red face, and maybe sweet mouth? This verse isn’t even a prophecy of some sort. What does Muhammad have to do with the daughters of Jerusalem?

And yet Christian authors through the centuries tried, poorly I might add, to attempt to interpret this as Jesus as the groom and the Church as the bride, which unlike what I have quoted, is a far interpretation!

Again, things like this have the opposite effect you expect them to have on people like me who are interested but are more serious in Christian beliefs.

If a person does not wish to believe in something, bring whatever you like, a person will not believe. I do not claim to convince Christians, Muslims are not ordered to do that. We are simply ordered to warn. What people decide to believe is up to then.
So you can ask yourself, with what you said, would you feel safe wagering eternal bliss and earning eternal damnation on what you have yourself admitted are 'details in common'? I myself would feel a sense of existential dead and discomfort with this reality. You can resolve this by reading the Qur'an, seeking the truth further in Islam. You can pray to God, the one you call father, and ask him to guide you to whatever is the truth.
I originally posted this to respond to another brother on mine concerning something he titled a post of his with, it is nice to see Christians are reading it too :)

On Lee’s way back to the living quarters, he watched as the people surrounding him were all engaged in whispered discussions. The gossip was circulating like a ferris wheel, around and around with more people climbing on by each turn. He couldn’t particularly blame them. There was talk of Prescott, of Clementine, of the Garcías: what’s more was that everything bled into each other. You couldn’t discuss one without delving into the next. Celebrities weren’t so much a thing in the apocalypse anymore, but he felt that New Richmond was developing a system not dissimilar.
With AJ collected by Clementine, he spent the night alone with none besides his own thoughts. They followed him even when he had drifted off into a slumber for a short period. Lee wasn’t aware he was dreaming at first. He’d found himself alone in a room that looked like the quarantine zone the Prescott group was held in, though it was now significantly larger. Multiple hallways spanned across differing directions, of which a multitude of voices resided in each. To the North-East he heard cries of baby AJ and hushes from Clementine. Moving down by the South-East were many voices overlapping at once: the GarcÍa family, talking and debating. On the opposite side at the North-West was a faint woman’s laughter, conceited and conniving. Finally in the South-West was somebody whispering his name. Lee listened more intently and tried to identify it under the other conflicting sounds. He recognised it as his wife’s voice, one he hadn’t heard in a dream for so many months, and jumped violently in shock. This brought him to a lucid state as he could at least realise he was trapped inside of a dream.
Dreams hadn’t been present since AJ was cured. It was something he hadn’t missed, how cryptic they were which always left him unsettled upon waking up.
The recognition of the state he was in did nothing to alleviate the panic that had crept into his senses. All around him the voices were pulsing louder and then quieter like a beating heart. It seemed the room had started to shrink. The directions of the voices flipped and switched around until he was totally disoriented at which hallway was talking to him. There was nothing to do besides wait out the scene when his awakening would interrupt it. Lee fell to his knees in the room and raised his arm over his head until everything went quiet.
He woke up to a day of rain. It hadn’t felt like Spring anyhow but the backdrop of falling rain and cloudy skies did everything to remind him of Winter, where instead of rain it was snow but present through both was a dead air.
During his discussion with Lee, David had mentioned that Clint had said it was good for the new garden, but that was the last thing on everybody’s minds. All they could focus on was the annoyance it brought them. New Richmond would not waste a day, whether it was raining or not. So everybody continued outside, working and training begrudgingly. Lee and David strolled down the streets of Richmond, watching all of this before their conversation truly begun.
“I know what you want to talk to me about,” David said. He was looking straight ahead and his face showed no signs of emotion.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. When I was told about Max and Badger, leading the raid…” David let out a sharp exhale. “Those fucking morons. I expected this off of Badger, and Logan will do anything he says, but Max?.”
Lee asked if he had talked to any of them since.
“No, not yet. I’ve been talking to Javi a lot, and trying to see Kate, but she’s resting.” David fell into a silence. “It’s a lot for her to handle, I think. Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat, “There’ll be a chance to talk to them today. There’s going to be a council meeting.”
“Who’s going?”
David explained that there was to be an interview for Javi as a representative of his group. It all didn’t sit exactly right with Lee, like there was something he wasn’t being told.
“What about Clementine?” Lee asked, hushing his voice. He didn’t know why he was doing so: it wasn’t like she was hiding. Clementine could walk around New Richmond all she wanted. Joan was going to find out soon if she hadn’t already, and the thought of that unsettled Lee greatly. Things felt dangerous but he couldn’t place exactly what was setting him off.
“If Joan knows anything, she hasn’t said,” responded David. “But then again, that’s Joan in a nutshell.” It sounded like this was a joke but he wasn’t smiling.
Lee wanted to ask what he would do about the Badger and Max situation though stopped himself.
“I’ll let you get back to Kate before the meeting, then,” Lee said with a weak attempt at a smile.
“Thank you.”
…
He was assigned to inventory in the weapons unit. In a way, he was grateful for the distraction. It required him to be attentive as he counted rounds of ammo and ensure each weapon is in its correct place. He’d slipped up a few times and had to restart, making the effort a tedious repetition on top of so many hours of work that had him occupied through the afternoon. Yet he couldn’t get frustrated.
Lee was at peace with working at his own pace. He was required to, as he could only do his task with his one hand: he trailed his arm down the bullets, counting in his head as he went along, and then moved to his paper to write down the numbers. Ava worked at a totally different speed. She was faster and more chaotic, dismantling boxes on the floor to count and then re-pack them again. Perhaps they should’ve quarrelled over their different styles but they did not.
“Look at us lucky ones,” Lee started, “working indoors while the rain goes on.” It had been a while since he could actually small-talk with someone. As stereotypical it was to talk about the weather, it was a refreshing reminder of some normality.
“You’re not wrong there. I would hate to be on watch right now,” she responded.
They worked in silence for another stretch of minutes.
“Ava,” Lee began again, more seriously this time. “When I spoke to you about Joan…”
She turned around to face him with a curious expression, slowing in her movements. “Yeah?”
“I think something might be wrong.” He lowered his voice while he spoke.
Ava finished the box she was working on, sealing it shut and then looked down at it for a moment. “David told me about Prescott,” she said finally.
He didn’t respond. Some inner part of him felt like they were being watched, under some surveillance. He did not want to speak anything damning. There were no cameras anymore or no juries, yet he still bit his lip: he imagined Joan on the other side of the door, listening and ready to walk in to remove him from New Richmond.
The silence lengthened for some more time while they worked side-by-side. He thought it were funny how there was so much to be said they it could only remain unspeakable. Lee forced himself to remain focused on his task. Though he did not regret bringing up Joan again, he could not shake all the thoughts he managed to avoid during the beginning of their workload. As he worked himself all the way to the final box, Lee could only wonder about the presence of foul forces around them.
“All done,” Ava announced. She dusted off her hands while Lee began packing up his belongings.
Just before he went for the door, she looked Lee directly in the eye and nodded at him. “If you ever need my help, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks,” he said gratefully.
They headed to the door, which swung open and revealed only an empty hallway on the other side. Lee sighed with relief. Realistically, Joan wouldn’t be there, nor would anyone, yet he still held his breath before confirming nothing awaited them besides the building.
…
Himself, Clementine and AJ were together inside the living quarters. AJ was scribbling a doodle with some coloured crayons Lingard had given him. Lee and Clementine watched over him as they both finished their rations.
“That was nice of Ava,” Clementine said mildly.
He nodded at her. Outside on the windows, the rain was still falling against the glass. It dropped in a comforting rhythm that you could forget was there if you weren’t paying attention to it.
“Why don’t you show us what you’ve got there, little man?” Lee smiled down at AJ, who had thrown down his paper. It was a tornado of colours, blue and red and green, flying around the page. Lee looked upon it proudly and turned it to Clementine, who grinned.
“Wow, goofball, that looks great,” she giggled.
The discussion passed around them all like a warm blanket. Time spent with them both was something Lee always looked forward to. Usually it wasn't interrupted, but today proved different.
A voice called their attention. They both looked to see who was walking over to them.
“Max,” Lee said, getting up to his feet. He didn’t feel particularly threatened by Max - if anything he was mostly confused at trying to guess his intentions behind things - and looked upon him with a discerning gaze.
“We thought you had a council meeting?” Clementine asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m on my way over now,” he responded. Max shuffled on his feet. “Joan sent me here to ask for ‘ya. Both of ‘ya.”
Lee and Clementine shared a look.
“Did she say anything else?” Lee fought against his raised breath and spoke as naturally as he could.
After a pause, Max responded, “No. Just that she needed to see Clementine, and to bring Lee with her.”

So I’m going to tell 3 stories one of my friend going to heaven . My story of me being in an all black void (maybe waiting on judgement) . And my other friend who went to hell
The first story is of my friend in rehab and it goes like this. One day he decided he wanted to take shrooms he found a dealer and bought 10 grams he ate them all not knowing what a proper dose was a couple hours later he was freaking out and his mom found him he asked to hold her hand and she said “I don’t know what you took or what’s wrong I need to think” he sat in his room and began to hear people out side saying there going to kill him . He then heard someone break in and say “that’s it I’m going to kill him im done with this” he knew his mom kept a hammer for self defense he grabbed it and has he heard this man coming up the stairs he started hitting his own head atleast 10 times he says. His mother called the paramedics when they arrived he was put on a helicopter headed to the Mayo Clinic . On that ride the paramedic said “ do you want me to roll you over so you can look out the window this might be the last time you will be able to” my friend said yes and with in a couple minutes he flat lined . And how he described it was like this he felt his soul rise up and could see his body laying there and went to a realm of pure bliss and peace he saw a angle he doesn’t know if it was god or not and the angle said “everything is ok your safe we can let you stay here with us or send you back” by friend was begging, to be sent back even though he didn’t need to beg he was shot back down and woke up in the hospital a day later.
My story goes like this I broke up with my 4 year long girlfriend and was on a roller coaster to end my own life I wasn’t gonna do it my self but if something happened it happened . I met this girl named addy and she was a fentanyl addict I started coming over to her house more and more . Mind you I was addicted to painkillers for some time and was now broke not a dime to my name. I smoked a couple pills with her for a day on the second day I decided to smoke 4 fentanyl laced pills at once all I remember was looking at her sister and hear disorienting audio hallucinations and faded away. I was in a black void and didn’t see nothing but emptyness. The paramedics were called and narcaned me 4 times I didn’t wake up there broke my ribs to re pump my heart I woke up 11 minutes later I was dead that entire time. I was later told my a catholic man that I was waiting for judgment . I’ve done a lot of evil in my life but have done a lot of good
The third story is of my life long friend and he told it like this. Him and his girlfriend were fighting all day and towards the end of it his girlfriend Tatum said “you make me wanna kill myself” he grabbed his .22 revolver and pointed it under his chin and said “you think I don’t wanna die to” and it went off blowing his left eye out. All he could say was “call 911” when the paramedics came he flat lined in the car on the way to the hospital. He told me months later what he saw and has had trauma from. He said he was in hell he could breathe and feel what was around him he was in his body with all his tattoos and same haircut . He told me what he saw was hundreds of children killing them selves in different s ways blood every wear screaming he said it was pure insanity the landscape was sharp and dark but you could still see it all perfect. He came back alive in the paramedics car minutes later but he said it felt like he was down there a life time
Please tell me your guys insight and opinions on this please and thank you

We just found a birthday party invitation in my daughter’s nursery bag, she’s 2 and it’s for a third birthday party. I’m guessing the parents just asked the nursery teachers to give them a list of names of everyone in their daughter’s class because we haven’t met the parents before and I’m not 100% sure who the child is either!
I didn’t really expect these whole class invitations until school age so I’m just trying to get an idea about the vibe of this kind of thing, I have rsvp’d and said yes we’ll go but do you just kind of turn up at the time and place and make small talk with strangers whilst your kids play? What kind of present should I get for the child, considering I don’t know her or what she already likely has?
This could just be my huge social anxiety talking, but I have no idea what to expect and it’s stressing me out a bit. The only parties I have ever been to are ones where I know people already and I’m a bit of an awkward mess as it is so I’m worried about not knowing a single person there. That said, it seemed rude to say no and if my daughter’s nursery friends are all there she will enjoy it. I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking it!

I (30F) recently was discussing with a very, very close friend from college why I sugar. She is someone who knows everything about me, someone I can trust fully.
The conversation got deep because normally when I’m asked “so why sugar?” I respond with “because it’s fun!” or something surface level like that.
I really, really sat with myself and thought about it more. We talked about it again and I told her the following:
I’ve been ultra responsible my entire life. I come from a military family. I was the oldest. I had to set the example for my siblings and then eventually I was basically a teen mom taking care of my siblings when things got really bad. I always had to put myself last.
Never allowed to date. Never went out. Never got to make mistakes. There wasn’t room for mistakes. No room for error. If you fuck up, it could be life or death. At least, that’s what was drilled into me.
Met my husband when I was 16. Lost my virginity to him at 17. Married at 21. Have a history of being taken advantage of by boys a couple of times, including him. (We’ve moved on from that and he regrets it, but he did contribute to my sexual trauma and it matters).
Put myself through undergrad. Work an emotionally and physically demanding job now. Have responsibilities at home still. Still have to take care of everyone. Still the oldest who has to set the example.
Where is the time for me? Where has it gone? Why do I have to be the one to care for everyone and everything and be the “yes dear” type?
A few years ago I had been approached in a bar during a girls night by an older gentleman when my friends went to the bathroom and I was watching drinks. He started chatting me up and eventually said in a way that was joking (at least that’s what I thought at first) that I’d make a great SB. I laughed it off completely but he was serious. I wish I had pursued the conversation further back then but my friends came back and the conversation was cut short. Remember, I’m married. Can’t entertain men while I’m out with friends!
I sat on this for a long time. Like months.
Eventually I told my husband that I was looking to open the marriage. Yes, I was asking for a hall pass. I told him about what happened and then blurted it all out that I never got to own my sexuality, it was always owned by someone else: my parents; control lost during other sexual encounters that I had no say in.
I told him I felt like I missed out on making mistakes, having fun, enjoying being young. This man actually understood and didn’t judge me or hate me for it. Opening our marriage to be ENM actually helped me grow a lot.
I love being taken care of. I love when someone else takes charge. I love that I can have my own sexual power again. It’s a drug.
So anyway, yes: I sugar because it’s fun. But really, I sugar because I can be fully me - the expectation is that I can be soft and feminine; that I can be taken care of, that I can own my sexuality.
So, why do you sugar?

I’m really confused and genuinely want to know if this was a case of sexual assault or just me overthinking, so when I was 12 it was really popular in my class to go on Omegle and once I was home alone and bored so I went on it to maybe find someone to talk to, I skipped and talked a bit until a man came and his voice scared me I was thinking of skipping but for some reason I didn’t (I wish I did.) he told me to sit down on the floor and put the phone by the door so I did and he then told me to touch myself down there, I knew so little about all of that stuff and idk why but I did I did it so wrong and weirdly but he told me to keep going and promised it would feel good, and then it happened, and for me it felt like I was gonna faint so i was kinda scared and I felt that i did something wrong so I sat there and then i skipped him. I then googled why i felt that way and found out all about orgasm and that stuff. I felt dirty and confused later on as i got older it got bad again i would sometimes masturbate every day and the started watching porn too then i started sending nudes and i liked the validation because no boys ever wanted anything to do with me (i was 14/15 at this time) so i kept doing it i tried stopping and actually did for a few weeks but then i started again, it was always way older men and Id always do anything they asked no matter how bad or weird, i never showed my face and lied about my name and location…I’d always feel guilty and disgusting afterwards. The thing is a few weeks ago i was out in town (I’m 17 now) and snuck into a bar with my friends cause i knew some people who worked there. We were waiting for my friend to get out of the bathroom and a man and woman came up to us i was really drunk and maybe overly nice and later the man kept reappearing and he hugged me and held my head and waist but i just brushed it off until I went to the music stand to queue a song and when i walked back to my friend the man was sitting at the bar and he grabbed my waist he whispered that i was beautiful and kissed my neck i was still oblivious (and drunk) and just said “thank you” he then came in close and said “I’m afraid I’ll never see you again” and he trapped me in between his legs and started kissing me, and i mean full on making out and i tried to do it back cause I didn’t know what else to do but then I realized I didn’t want to so I pulled back but he pulled me back in and kissed my neck and started kissing me again by some miracle my friend managed to grab my shirt and he let go and we walked upstairs. He left after that, idk how to feel about any of this and just wanted to let it out I guess, oh and also I wanna know if ANY of this is considered sexual assault or if I’m just idk disgusting or whatever

Hi I’ve never posted on reddit before, but I really would appreciate some advice without judgment as others would. To premise this, I suffer from more anxiety than any one human should. I have Gad and separation anxiety that flares after changes or turbulence in the relationship.
My partner and I have been in a committed relationship for about 2 and 1/2 years. For all but maybe 6 months of those years, we were open sexually and have had talks about whether polyamory was for us. I kept being up and down about it as I love the opportunity to feel loved, but I’ve always been “picked last” so I kept feeling like it would occur again. Nevertheless, the sexual relationship was open.
Some time ago, my partner comes to me telling that they are traveling out of state to meet with a friend and how they “have always wanted to go there.” This felt odd to me, as they have literally never mentioned it before, but they do sometimes forget to mention things like that. I asked who they were staying with and they stated plainly a friend. “Which friend?” Oh just a friend that they recently reconnected with, old friend from school. I felt a little hurt that this was being told just out of the blue, but go have fun! Fast forward, about a few days in and they message me as we have set up in the past, that hey, sex is probably going to happen. Letting you know. Good! Great! Happy for my partner, and even more they let me know before anything happened like we stated we would do before anything like that. So I felt good. They return a few days after that and all was fine with the world.
Until a few days ago, when the friend they were with reaches out to say they’ve fallen in love. Which felt so fast, and asked if we were also open romantically. After tears and thinking and more tears and more talking. I finally say yes. I kept going back and forth in my head. But I felt that was more anxiety than anything. My partner also stated that I am the primary, that they are going to be more concerned with me to both me and their new partner. Stated flat out the ground rules and everyone agreed no issues.
At this point, a change has occurred in our relationship and my separation anxiety has flared bad but we’ve dealt with it healthily before and we will do so again.
Until my partner sits me down and says we have to talk about something. They lied about how they met the friend. Never had met them before, was actually an online friend that they met just a few month prior. They never were friends in school. They lied because they felt my anxiety would get worse knowing they are meeting a stranger. And they only told me after I had agreed to being open. Whether intentionally leaving it out or not while I deliberated. They lied to me about something so insignificant. And now I don’t know if I am actually comfortable with this new change rn.
When I get a second n where my anxiety isn’t on max. I’m so overwhelmingly happy for my partner. But those are brief rn. I just… I feel like they already picked them over us. I would appreciate any advice. I already have plans to talk with my partner today. But anything more, even insight would help.
Tldr: partner lied about how they met new partner and now i dont feel as confident in new aspect of relationship

TW!
(F20) To start this.. i’ve been through sexual abuse as a child (starting at 7) and i was exposed to sex at the age of 4. I’m now 20 and been through rape several times since then. Also when i was a i kid i did things with my girl friends as a way to cope with what was happening with my male cousin (that was what started at 7)
So to start i have never even thought about this irl, and never even remotely had a dream like this before. So i just woke up from a dream that i did something sexual with my younger step sister. The dream with a dream within a dream, so i dreamt i did that in my dream. Even in the dream i felt disgusting, i woke up and felt even worse. The only thoughts irl i’ve had that have bothered me is wishing i was a kid again so i could feel those first sexual experiences because i was innocent and should have been having sex at the age i started.
Im panicking. Is there something wrong with me? Should i look into this further? I don’t know what to do. Please be kind because i’ve never acted on this and never will, it’s just the dream that i am worrying about.
Edit- I also want to add i’m bisexual. . I’ve never been able to explore sexuality properly and i don’t know if that has something to do with it? Because i got to when i was younger. I just want to put everything out there so you can get a better idea of my head.
Also i’ve been watching a lot of “to catch a predator” lately, and i’ve been watching this because i want to be one of those people to help catch pedophiles. The interest sparked because i found out my younger step sister was groomed by me ex.

The worst kinds of monsters are the ones that you don’t recognize at first. For some folks, monsters are closer than they may think - shrouded in the darkness, waiting for the opportunity to strike. For a lucky few, they are protected from monsters by their loved ones, and allowed to grow and succeed.
Such was the case with Diana and Adam, a couple from Buckhannon, West Virginia. They weren’t exactly the spitting image of love - they argued sometimes, worked opposite shifts, and didn’t go out on dates that often. But, they were married, and that’s a lot farther than most couples make it. Diana was the social butterfly of the pair - dozens of friends, good relationships with people all around town, and a reputation for always carrying a sincere smile on her face and a helping hand for anyone who needed it.
At first glance, you would think that she was the one who grew up there, not Adam, but that wasn’t the case. After all, they were living in Adam’s childhood home, gifted to them by his parents as a wedding gift (and excuse to move to Florida). Adam was somewhat of a recluse - he had fine social skills, but worked the graveyard shift and never left the house much other than that. People would sometimes shoot the two glances when they were rarely sighted together - the old saying “opposites attract” might be true after all.
While they were indeed opposites, and they didn’t show it often, they did love each other, and protected each other from the monsters of the world. Not that there were many to defend from in their sleepy little town - there hadn’t been anything more than petty crime since the early 1960s.
They had been living in their home for around three years, and for Diana, it was just starting to feel like a home. When they first moved in, the place had a somber atmosphere. There was no light from street lamps peeking in through the blinds, eager to dance on her velvety skin on dark nights. There were no honks of cars outside, or faint music from a party in the distance. The environment was entirely different from the city she was raised in - and it took her a while to not hate it. After making friends with people around Buckhannon, though, her relationship with the place began to heal - she wasn’t suddenly head over heels for it, but she understood it as a staging area for the true meaning of home - the people she surrounded herself with.
Adam was accustomed to the place immediately, having lived there for years, and didn’t exactly enjoy the constant slew of company that Diana had parading through their halls. After all, he was dead tired, come sunup, and just wanted peace and quiet when he got home. He would often disregard visitors in his living room, offering a simple nod and slight smile as he climbed the old creaky stairs to go to bed. This didn’t exactly paint him nor the couple well - why was Diana married to this antisocial oddity who didn’t even seem to want people in his house at all?
While their lifestyles didn’t exactly line up, they still tried to take each other’s needs into consideration. Diana would usually go over to others’ houses if she wasn’t working and wanted to spend time with friends. If she did have company over, she tried to keep the volume to a minimum, which isn’t exactly difficult with simple conversation and coffee. Conversely, Adam would carefully traverse the house at night to ready himself for work (as much as it allowed for, with its aged floorboards). He loved her enough to let her sleep, and she loved him enough to do the same.
It was on a rare night where Adam didn’t have work that the couple got to go to bed together. The crisp autumn night let them leave the windows open to be awoken by the sounds of the birds outside. They shared a rare kiss, and rolled onto opposite sides of the bed to hopefully get a full night of sleep - they didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, after all.
Diana’s eyelids shuttered open to a mostly dark room, only pierced by a rare spot of light shining through the open window. Weird, she thought - rarely did the moonlight penetrate the treeline, although it may have been easier now, with the browned leaves crumpling off of the maple trees. Despite this oddity, everything else appeared normal - it was still dead silent, save for the distant crickets chirping in the woods. What had awoken her?
She tried to sit up, if nothing else to retrieve a glass of water. However, she could not. Her eyes widened as her heart began to race - she didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t like it. The only part of her that could move were her emerald eyes, darting across the room and looking for anything that might be causing this, or anything she could use to snap herself out of it.
And then, it stepped into the light. Upon seeing it, she wanted to scream, loud enough to reduce every window in the house to sand. But she could not - her lungs seemed to be one of the only organs that worked, as she kept breathing, despite the fact that she didn’t want to risk making noise. Her heart also worked, evidently - it was beating so fast that she thought it might give out.
Standing in front of her was a man - or what looked like one. It was around seven feet tall, and had mostly human features, apart from a few things that were strictly impossible for any living person to have. Its right arm was completely gone. The right half of its face was that of an expressionless young man - the right, simply a rim of burnt flesh and muscle surrounding a skull. Its feet were missing their skin completely, although they were intact enough for it to stand.
This was it, she thought. I’m going to die here, in this bed, and my husband is going to find me when he wakes up. She didn’t have a choice but to wait for the ghoul to approach her and rip her to shreds, or do who knows what else. But as the seconds turned into minutes (or at least felt like them), the being stayed still. Its expression remained neutral - no murderous glee, anger, or even sadness. It didn’t seem to want to harm her - or at least she hoped. Suddenly, the window slammed shut, and she blinked for the first time since she woke up. The figure was gone, and the window was indeed sealed, rendering the room completely silent. Her husband stirred next to her, and peered over at her as she sat there, hyperventilating, having finally regained control of her motor functions. Rather than offering comfort, though, he simply rolled back over. He had stayed up all of last night and day so they could go to bed together, and nothing was going to stop him from resting, not even his clearly distraught wife.
Even though she wanted to, she didn’t mention it over breakfast the next day. She was afraid of many things. She was scared that Adam wouldn’t believe her, and would ridicule her or take the experience as yet another jab towards his childhood home. She was afraid she was losing her mind, and didn’t want to think about it. She just had to pray that it wouldn’t happen again, and spent her day looking over her shoulder.
An accident at the factory the next evening abruptly granted Adam the night off, and they spent it watching an old romantic comedy in the living room. Diana wasn’t feeling very romantic, however - every single crack of a twig from what was probably just deer outside nearly sent her into a panic attack. Whatever that thing was, she didn’t want to see it again. She even prayed for the first time in years, simply to request that whatever foul spirit haunted her nightmares be banished. She drifted off to sleep with this as a slight comfort.
All comfort shattered immediately when she woke up in the darkness again. The being spared no time to hide in the shadows this time - Diana immediately saw it, staring out the window. It turned its head towards her, and she internally grimaced - its face was just as unsettling a sight as it was the previous night. This time, though, something about it was different - it had actual emotion on what remained of its face, even if just slightly. She saw a dull sadness, perhaps with a taste of bitterness, but she couldn’t see quite that much detail. All she knew was that whatever it was, it looked like it was hurting.
It suddenly raised its arm, and she felt a wave of cold air pass over her. She blinked, but it didn’t disappear. It stood, almost as if it was waiting for her to move towards it. To her surprise, she could - she cautiously lifted her torso up in the bed and moved the covers off of her legs, never taking her eyes off of it. Once she was out of bed, they stood and looked at each other, as if in a game of cat and mouse for who would move first. Ultimately, Diana won that competition, and the being turned and walked towards the bedroom’s door frame. It stopped mere feet from it, and turned its head back towards her, waiting for her. Everything inside of her, from her past experiences to basic survival instinct, was screaming at her not to follow it. But she somehow knew that it wasn’t going to harm her. She didn’t necessarily feel safe around it, but something compelled her to follow it.
So she did. She followed it down the stairs, and down another set into the boiler room. It led her towards a corner of the basement, and then turned around. She began looking around the room, searching for what this thing may have led her to. She tried to speak, but found herself unable to. The light coming through the window slightly shifted, and she saw a handle on the wall that matched the color of the paint surrounding it. It was a crawl space door, partially blocked by boxes and paint cans, but just barely visible. The being motioned for her to open it.
She had already made a stupid decision by following it down here, she reasoned - why should she enter a dark, dank crawlspace? This brief moment of logic and reason was quickly overridden by another voice within her head - hers still, but bearing different reasoning. “If it wanted to kill me, wouldn’t it have done so already?” she thought, and this was enough to get her to move the boxes, shift the paint cans aside, and try the door handle. It didn’t budge at first, as it was apparently sealed. After a few more violent tugs and the severing of the rubber seal surrounding the door, it violently swung open. Immediately, a foul smell permeated through the cold air, and she immediately began profusely gagging. It was a smell more horrible than anything she had ever had the misfortune of experiencing - worse than sewage, or spoiled food. It was the smell of rot.
The being was unfazed by this, and again motioned for her to go through the door, with a point from a finger that was barely attached to its decaying hand. Despite the fact that she had moments before been rolling on the ground, trying not to vomit, she again felt compelled to listen to the figure. She made her way through the tight tunnel, scraping her knees against the oddly brown-stained concrete, until she found herself in a room big enough that she could stand up. She fumbled around for a light switch, and didn’t find one. Regardless, the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flicked on, and when the room lit up, she couldn’t hold back the sickness anymore. She vomited all over the floor before collapsing against the wall, sobbing. She was still unable to speak or scream - despite her best efforts.
Inside the room were no less than twenty corpses, all stacked in a heap in the corner. Some were almost skeletal, while some appeared fresh. Lining the walls were dozens of instruments of torture, some foreign, some disturbingly familiar. She could not believe what she was seeing - a cell of death hiding beneath her home for who knows how long. The light flickered, and the being appeared in the center of the room. In the light, she could see more of its hideous features - a slit throat, missing fingers, missing teeth from the protruding skull. It calmly walked towards her as she sobbed, preparing to join the pile. But it did not touch her. It stood over her as she opened her eyes again, and extended its decomposing hand to her.
She was baffled, to say the least. Why did this thing bring her down here? Was it the one responsible for this? If not, then who did this? Questions raced through her overwhelmed mind as she raised her head to look at it once again. As they looked at each other, she suddenly understood, and all of the questions were answered. She took its hand, and rose to her feet. It looked at her for a few more seconds, and the light flickered again. It was gone.
The next morning, Diana made breakfast in the kitchen, shaking with anticipation for when her husband would awaken. She did not get an ounce of sleep after what had happened - she spent the night cleaning her vomit from the floor and sealing the door with superglue. She was so lost in thought, thinking about what had happened, that when a hand was placed on her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Adam spun her around and pinned her against the stove. He firmly asked what she was doing in the basement last night.
How did he know? Diana wasn’t sure, but she quickly lied about going downstairs to change the temperature on the thermostat. His grip on her shoulders eased up a bit, and she exhaled in relief - before he raised his voice. She looked at him, shocked, as he yelled at her to never go down there without him again. He turned and left the kitchen and the house, slamming the front door as he left.
The next few weeks were uneasy. Diana walked on eggshells around Adam, who refused to even look at her. She didn’t know if he had anything to do with what she found, but she did not want to believe it. Even so, his family had owned the house since it was built - who else could it have been? She tried not to think about it, and didn’t even see friends anymore, in fear that she would accidentally reveal her secret. Even on nights where he was off work, they did not sleep together - she took the spare bedroom and locked the door. She didn’t get good sleep - but she slept through the night.
One night, she woke up in the pitch black once again. The being needed no introduction, standing by her bedside and waiting for her to awaken. It began walking towards the door again, and she followed without hesitation this time - whatever it had to show her, she was ready to see it. She found herself in the basement once again, as it simply stood there and looked at her. She couldn’t say anything to it, which was fine - she didn’t have anything to say.
Suddenly, the door to the basement flew open, the lights flicked on, and Adam flew down the stairs, angrier than she had ever seen him. As she tried to back up against the wall, he grabbed her arm and began screaming at her. As he yelled in her face, she had a choice to make, and she chose to push him away. He stumbled backwards to the edge of the shadows of the basement’s darkest corners, and in that instant, a rotting hand grabbed him and violently yanked him into the darkness. The lights cut out, as shrieks and squeals echoed from the corner. Just as suddenly as they started, though, they stopped. She stood there, completely emotionless, in the pitch dark.
The basement was entirely silent, as was the outside world - the crickets were quiet, there was no wind, and the radiator had stopped humming. The moonlight seeping into the room illuminated only the floor, where a pool of crimson blood slowly grew larger. Out of the shadows stepped the being, its wet, skinned feet slapping against the concrete. It did not move towards her - it just stared.
Then, out of the one eye it still had, it began to cry. It did not make noise, but teardrops rolled down its cheeks, and the sound of them falling off of its face and into the puddle of blood became the only noise in the room. At that moment, she finally understood.
The light flicked back on, and it disappeared. She looked into the corner where her husband was dragged, and found nothing. She ascended the stairs, still in her nightgown and slippers, and opened the front door, shutting it behind her as she left.

The worst kinds of monsters are the ones that you don’t recognize at first. For some folks, monsters are closer than they may think - shrouded in the darkness, waiting for the opportunity to strike. For a lucky few, they are protected from monsters by their loved ones, and allowed to grow and succeed.
Such was the case with Diana and Adam, a couple from Buckhannon, West Virginia. They weren’t exactly the spitting image of love - they argued sometimes, worked opposite shifts, and didn’t go out on dates that often. But, they were married, and that’s a lot farther than most couples make it. Diana was the social butterfly of the pair - dozens of friends, good relationships with people all around town, and a reputation for always carrying a sincere smile on her face and a helping hand for anyone who needed it.
At first glance, you would think that she was the one who grew up there, not Adam, but that wasn’t the case. After all, they were living in Adam’s childhood home, gifted to them by his parents as a wedding gift (and excuse to move to Florida). Adam was somewhat of a recluse - he had fine social skills, but worked the graveyard shift and never left the house much other than that. People would sometimes shoot the two glances when they were rarely sighted together - the old saying “opposites attract” might be true after all.
While they were indeed opposites, and they didn’t show it often, they did love each other, and protected each other from the monsters of the world. Not that there were many to defend from in their sleepy little town - there hadn’t been anything more than petty crime since the early 1960s.
They had been living in their home for around three years, and for Diana, it was just starting to feel like a home. When they first moved in, the place had a somber atmosphere. There was no light from street lamps peeking in through the blinds, eager to dance on her velvety skin on dark nights. There were no honks of cars outside, or faint music from a party in the distance. The environment was entirely different from the city she was raised in - and it took her a while to not hate it. After making friends with people around Buckhannon, though, her relationship with the place began to heal - she wasn’t suddenly head over heels for it, but she understood it as a staging area for the true meaning of home - the people she surrounded herself with.
Adam was accustomed to the place immediately, having lived there for years, and didn’t exactly enjoy the constant slew of company that Diana had parading through their halls. After all, he was dead tired, come sunup, and just wanted peace and quiet when he got home. He would often disregard visitors in his living room, offering a simple nod and slight smile as he climbed the old creaky stairs to go to bed. This didn’t exactly paint him nor the couple well - why was Diana married to this antisocial oddity who didn’t even seem to want people in his house at all?
While their lifestyles didn’t exactly line up, they still tried to take each other’s needs into consideration. Diana would usually go over to others’ houses if she wasn’t working and wanted to spend time with friends. If she did have company over, she tried to keep the volume to a minimum, which isn’t exactly difficult with simple conversation and coffee. Conversely, Adam would carefully traverse the house at night to ready himself for work (as much as it allowed for, with its aged floorboards). He loved her enough to let her sleep, and she loved him enough to do the same.
It was on a rare night where Adam didn’t have work that the couple got to go to bed together. The crisp autumn night let them leave the windows open to be awoken by the sounds of the birds outside. They shared a rare kiss, and rolled onto opposite sides of the bed to hopefully get a full night of sleep - they didn’t have anything to do tomorrow, after all.
Diana’s eyelids shuttered open to a mostly dark room, only pierced by a rare spot of light shining through the open window. Weird, she thought - rarely did the moonlight penetrate the treeline, although it may have been easier now, with the browned leaves crumpling off of the maple trees. Despite this oddity, everything else appeared normal - it was still dead silent, save for the distant crickets chirping in the woods. What had awoken her?
She tried to sit up, if nothing else to retrieve a glass of water. However, she could not. Her eyes widened as her heart began to race - she didn’t know what was happening, but she didn’t like it. The only part of her that could move were her emerald eyes, darting across the room and looking for anything that might be causing this, or anything she could use to snap herself out of it.
And then, it stepped into the light. Upon seeing it, she wanted to scream, loud enough to reduce every window in the house to sand. But she could not - her lungs seemed to be one of the only organs that worked, as she kept breathing, despite the fact that she didn’t want to risk making noise. Her heart also worked, evidently - it was beating so fast that she thought it might give out.
Standing in front of her was a man - or what looked like one. It was around seven feet tall, and had mostly human features, apart from a few things that were strictly impossible for any living person to have. Its right arm was completely gone. The right half of its face was that of an expressionless young man - the right, simply a rim of burnt flesh and muscle surrounding a skull. Its feet were missing their skin completely, although they were intact enough for it to stand.
This was it, she thought. I’m going to die here, in this bed, and my husband is going to find me when he wakes up. She didn’t have a choice but to wait for the ghoul to approach her and rip her to shreds, or do who knows what else. But as the seconds turned into minutes (or at least felt like them), the being stayed still. Its expression remained neutral - no murderous glee, anger, or even sadness. It didn’t seem to want to harm her - or at least she hoped. Suddenly, the window slammed shut, and she blinked for the first time since she woke up. The figure was gone, and the window was indeed sealed, rendering the room completely silent. Her husband stirred next to her, and peered over at her as she sat there, hyperventilating, having finally regained control of her motor functions. Rather than offering comfort, though, he simply rolled back over. He had stayed up all of last night and day so they could go to bed together, and nothing was going to stop him from resting, not even his clearly distraught wife.
Even though she wanted to, she didn’t mention it over breakfast the next day. She was afraid of many things. She was scared that Adam wouldn’t believe her, and would ridicule her or take the experience as yet another jab towards his childhood home. She was afraid she was losing her mind, and didn’t want to think about it. She just had to pray that it wouldn’t happen again, and spent her day looking over her shoulder.
An accident at the factory the next evening abruptly granted Adam the night off, and they spent it watching an old romantic comedy in the living room. Diana wasn’t feeling very romantic, however - every single crack of a twig from what was probably just deer outside nearly sent her into a panic attack. Whatever that thing was, she didn’t want to see it again. She even prayed for the first time in years, simply to request that whatever foul spirit haunted her nightmares be banished. She drifted off to sleep with this as a slight comfort.
All comfort shattered immediately when she woke up in the darkness again. The being spared no time to hide in the shadows this time - Diana immediately saw it, staring out the window. It turned its head towards her, and she internally grimaced - its face was just as unsettling a sight as it was the previous night. This time, though, something about it was different - it had actual emotion on what remained of its face, even if just slightly. She saw a dull sadness, perhaps with a taste of bitterness, but she couldn’t see quite that much detail. All she knew was that whatever it was, it looked like it was hurting.
It suddenly raised its arm, and she felt a wave of cold air pass over her. She blinked, but it didn’t disappear. It stood, almost as if it was waiting for her to move towards it. To her surprise, she could - she cautiously lifted her torso up in the bed and moved the covers off of her legs, never taking her eyes off of it. Once she was out of bed, they stood and looked at each other, as if in a game of cat and mouse for who would move first. Ultimately, Diana won that competition, and the being turned and walked towards the bedroom’s door frame. It stopped mere feet from it, and turned its head back towards her, waiting for her. Everything inside of her, from her past experiences to basic survival instinct, was screaming at her not to follow it. But she somehow knew that it wasn’t going to harm her. She didn’t necessarily feel safe around it, but something compelled her to follow it.
So she did. She followed it down the stairs, and down another set into the boiler room. It led her towards a corner of the basement, and then turned around. She began looking around the room, searching for what this thing may have led her to. She tried to speak, but found herself unable to. The light coming through the window slightly shifted, and she saw a handle on the wall that matched the color of the paint surrounding it. It was a crawl space door, partially blocked by boxes and paint cans, but just barely visible. The being motioned for her to open it.
She had already made a stupid decision by following it down here, she reasoned - why should she enter a dark, dank crawlspace? This brief moment of logic and reason was quickly overridden by another voice within her head - hers still, but bearing different reasoning. “If it wanted to kill me, wouldn’t it have done so already?” she thought, and this was enough to get her to move the boxes, shift the paint cans aside, and try the door handle. It didn’t budge at first, as it was apparently sealed. After a few more violent tugs and the severing of the rubber seal surrounding the door, it violently swung open. Immediately, a foul smell permeated through the cold air, and she immediately began profusely gagging. It was a smell more horrible than anything she had ever had the misfortune of experiencing - worse than sewage, or spoiled food. It was the smell of rot.
The being was unfazed by this, and again motioned for her to go through the door, with a point from a finger that was barely attached to its decaying hand. Despite the fact that she had moments before been rolling on the ground, trying not to vomit, she again felt compelled to listen to the figure. She made her way through the tight tunnel, scraping her knees against the oddly brown-stained concrete, until she found herself in a room big enough that she could stand up. She fumbled around for a light switch, and didn’t find one. Regardless, the single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling flicked on, and when the room lit up, she couldn’t hold back the sickness anymore. She vomited all over the floor before collapsing against the wall, sobbing. She was still unable to speak or scream - despite her best efforts.
Inside the room were no less than twenty corpses, all stacked in a heap in the corner. Some were almost skeletal, while some appeared fresh. Lining the walls were dozens of instruments of torture, some foreign, some disturbingly familiar. She could not believe what she was seeing - a cell of death hiding beneath her home for who knows how long. The light flickered, and the being appeared in the center of the room. In the light, she could see more of its hideous features - a slit throat, missing fingers, missing teeth from the protruding skull. It calmly walked towards her as she sobbed, preparing to join the pile. But it did not touch her. It stood over her as she opened her eyes again, and extended its decomposing hand to her.
She was baffled, to say the least. Why did this thing bring her down here? Was it the one responsible for this? If not, then who did this? Questions raced through her overwhelmed mind as she raised her head to look at it once again. As they looked at each other, she suddenly understood, and all of the questions were answered. She took its hand, and rose to her feet. It looked at her for a few more seconds, and the light flickered again. It was gone.
The next morning, Diana made breakfast in the kitchen, shaking with anticipation for when her husband would awaken. She did not get an ounce of sleep after what had happened - she spent the night cleaning her vomit from the floor and sealing the door with superglue. She was so lost in thought, thinking about what had happened, that when a hand was placed on her shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Adam spun her around and pinned her against the stove. He firmly asked what she was doing in the basement last night.
How did he know? Diana wasn’t sure, but she quickly lied about going downstairs to change the temperature on the thermostat. His grip on her shoulders eased up a bit, and she exhaled in relief - before he raised his voice. She looked at him, shocked, as he yelled at her to never go down there without him again. He turned and left the kitchen and the house, slamming the front door as he left.
The next few weeks were uneasy. Diana walked on eggshells around Adam, who refused to even look at her. She didn’t know if he had anything to do with what she found, but she did not want to believe it. Even so, his family had owned the house since it was built - who else could it have been? She tried not to think about it, and didn’t even see friends anymore, in fear that she would accidentally reveal her secret. Even on nights where he was off work, they did not sleep together - she took the spare bedroom and locked the door. She didn’t get good sleep - but she slept through the night.
One night, she woke up in the pitch black once again. The being needed no introduction, standing by her bedside and waiting for her to awaken. It began walking towards the door again, and she followed without hesitation this time - whatever it had to show her, she was ready to see it. She found herself in the basement once again, as it simply stood there and looked at her. She couldn’t say anything to it, which was fine - she didn’t have anything to say.
Suddenly, the door to the basement flew open, the lights flicked on, and Adam flew down the stairs, angrier than she had ever seen him. As she tried to back up against the wall, he grabbed her arm and began screaming at her. As he yelled in her face, she had a choice to make, and she chose to push him away. He stumbled backwards to the edge of the shadows of the basement’s darkest corners, and in that instant, a rotting hand grabbed him and violently yanked him into the darkness. The lights cut out, as shrieks and squeals echoed from the corner. Just as suddenly as they started, though, they stopped. She stood there, completely emotionless, in the pitch dark.
The basement was entirely silent, as was the outside world - the crickets were quiet, there was no wind, and the radiator had stopped humming. The moonlight seeping into the room illuminated only the floor, where a pool of crimson blood slowly grew larger. Out of the shadows stepped the being, its wet, skinned feet slapping against the concrete. It did not move towards her - it just stared.
Then, out of the one eye it still had, it began to cry. It did not make noise, but teardrops rolled down its cheeks, and the sound of them falling off of its face and into the puddle of blood became the only noise in the room. At that moment, she finally understood.
The light flicked back on, and it disappeared. She looked into the corner where her husband was dragged, and found nothing. She ascended the stairs, still in her nightgown and slippers, and opened the front door, shutting it behind her as she left.

Hi all (and who knows/I hope dr K),
Prepare to read!! But if you don't want to, get the TLDR at the bottom; I am very uncommon with Reddit so forgive me any mistakes!
I've been strugglin' along in life for a while now (am 26 years old) and even though I've been doubling down on dr K's videos last 6 months or so, it's been 10 years I've been working very hard on myself (sometimes really really obsessively). As following is how great my life is going;
I just got hired for a new job (System Engineer in IT), got a good base (got a small but nice apartment with garden, money, stuff, a cute cat) and I am very healthy and strong (I put alot of time in my health) and maybe I got some on the lucky side with appearance thanks to my parents (no model but u know, just fine). + I've joined group therapy on 18 yrs old for one and a half year, been in cognitive therapy since my 21st and still going sometimes and have been reading about philosophy, psychology for years and thought alot about a mentality of 'overcoming' and practicing this alot too in for example Boxing. As more medicine for the mind I sometimes make poems, play guitar and sing or make raps (been a while tbh), meditate, work out more, have a healthy routine and habits, try to do enough new things and take risks (as in Love and also career or vacations alone etc).. I feel like I understand myself and my world alot better than before and that I could do something really cool with these insights.
To understand my question but honestly also because I am weirdly eager to share my story, here's a small part of my history; My parents got divorced at age 5 or 6 because my mother joined a sect (like Amish but modernized) and the church said she had to, against my fathers' wishes. It was a horrible divorce, where suddenly my dad was gone, they regularly got in screaming fights with my mom wishing him dead etc, slamming doors (my dad broke into the house at least once) arguing over the relationship and us, while we didn't really understood why and cried ofcourse. Later on when things sort of settled down I saw my dad weekend on weekend off and until shortly I told myself everything was fine from that time on; it would be too much to tell, but I am now sure (beside every period also has some good things ofc) I have been emotionally neglected, traumatically manipulated by my mom (examples: literally years later when I felt sad my dad was gone while looking at old pictures where she cut him out, she said things like it was the demon in my room making me feel that way and she literally commanded/screamed it back to hell, I was frightened to death and my little sister cried once; my mother also observed and controlled us sometimes obsessively checking our stuff in search of where the devil could hide & would throw it away, and manipulate choices, what is not allowed to do or even think.. everything) and I lived an extremely sad, depressing, insecure and self-blaming youth. If I'd understood what really was going on with my mom and my family, I probably would have killed myself. Lucky me I guess she forced me to become a bit better at lying, and so too to myself. Hahah you thought that was all didn't yah? Hell no, here comes part two; at 15 yrs old I got kicked out of (that side of) the family which meant losing my mother, my siblings I grew up with, my best friend cousin and a whole network of friends because I had to move to my father in another city too far away. I had to walk away from home (my mom) because I felt very unsafe apparently, I wasn't welcome anymore after that. She also didn't respond to my texts, or said I could come and then cancel, and send not even a message from the first birthday since on. Later on I tried again but she keeps putting expectations on me and plays with my love for her. haven't seen her for 6 years now I think. But I also left the one good thing; my mothers' beliefs. I am grateful for my father to take me in, but I think now he was too traumatized by the happenings' in his life that he wasn't able to really connect with me when I moved in, we never discussed emotional parts or had a good talk the first year or more. Maybe we had later on but still, he always felt distant from me, as today I am afraid. Like he is half a ghost; He lives, but always seems unaware of half of what happens.. doing his routine over and over. You can talk but he forgets. Never said he loved me or anything, just he living his life and I mine besides his. I know he loves me, but sad it is.
So you can see I've been through some shit and still leaving out alot because it would be too long to read. I want to get to the point myself as like;
I am feeling okay lately and really are keeping my balance, feeling overall good and livin' prosperous as I actually always do. The only thing I really long still is having a connection with people. I don't know if it's me, them, or both.. I moved alot so it was hard to remain friendships, but I also think I find it hard to make friends because I feel like a strange ducky; I fear my past has changed me so much that I understand depth that my peers do not. It could be arrogance, but it must at least have some truth in it. It takes alot of energy to be around new people and since a year I have become alot more solitary, because I don't want to drink really, use drugs or stay up at night. I live a peaceful life reading, working out, pursue a nice career and sum good meditation (and tea) sessions. And try to keep a few good friendships going, which are going very well. But I haven't been in a relationship for 6 years and now I feel like I am ready (a healthy one this time I promise), only the women around me I feel like they are not (responding late, ghosting, are more interested in themselves, looking for checking their grocerylist, are cold). I've had quite some experience with women and don't struggle to get dates, but I really find it hard to find real connection/understanding. I got on a new datingapp where you go on date when you match without chatting, sounds great not? Only with the first 3 matches they postponed the date already 6 times, two doubles, mostly same day/few hours before. And with horrible reason and effort after really. I also find the girls I have approached in real life and dated seem occupied, and some of those things i just listed. Generally very cold women here in Holland, is my experience (but there are always exceptions on ones' rules ofcourse);
''Has this world changed its' moral value, or is it I?''
.. So I wonder; do I need to change myself, or my environment? Do I maybe have a lack of connection what makes me feel like I lack connection, or am I still missing something internally? Or both? And do I need to be more patient while feeling a little righteous lack-of?
If you want to ask, share or give your worldview of anything please do so! I am here to learn, not to know it better.
Huge propz to dr K, thanks for the ton of knowledge I already learned from you for free and thanks for this reddit page!
thanks for reading!
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side question: It could be obvious but is my history a normal one? or is it a bit different from the usual? I wouldn't know really, I like to see myself as normal
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TL;DR: Life is going great, Life wás hell & felt like sharing, question; is there a chance for real love?
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I can come up with three scenarios that make sense:

1. You do it because you can and the 36-2903 doesn’t say you can’t. To this I say bravo and please carry on. I personally find this level of pettiness endearing and I wish I had your level of self sacrifice.
   
2. You acknowledge that it’s uncomfortable to wear the beanie in this weather, even for short runs to the BX, but you can’t find your ball/patrol cap and you’re not motivated enough to search. If you’re in this camp I beg of you to go to clothing sale. The shitty standard caps are only like $6 and it will improve your life; have some self respect please.
   
3. You acknowledge that it’s uncomfortable, but prefer the look of the beanie. I have no words for this scenario. You’re in a league that I don’t want to understand.
   

This has happened a lot in our (46m) (40f) 16-year marriage. Every once in a while, he wakes up grumpy where every little thing sets him off and he is incredibly toxic. Sunday, we had one of those days. Everything I did was met with criticism and strife. Even the kids were being yelled at for minor things. I was being insulted and called a bad mother by the end of the day. I did my best to keep my distance and ignore all his passive aggressive comments towards me the entire day and wasn’t able to feel comfortable in my own home.
The next day he was the complete opposite. He was nice, attentive, and seemingly caring. I’m over here on Tuesday still reeling from the toxic day on Sunday and he’s over there sunshine and daisies like nothing’s wrong. I feel like I can’t bring it up to process the day because he will (like he has in the past) accuse me of holding grudges.
(In the past, when I would try to process it with him, and he told me he acted like that because of something I did. Its the whole “you shouldn’t have made me angry if you didn’t want to be treated like that” or “if you did this I wouldn’t act that way” justifying his actions… and that it was in the past and wondering why I'm still mad about it.)
I can’t even find the words for what I’m feeling when this happens. I’m upset he treated me that way but feel guilty at the same time for being upset because he’s so nice now. Like I should be over it and not take it personally because maybe he was just having a bad day. Also, I feel guilty thinking it was probably something I did (or didn’t do) that made him so toxic that day. I get the guilt that it’s my fault I upset him to the point his cup of misery was overflowing and spilling on all of us.
Thinking back to the day going over every interaction we had I probably misread a social cue or hint that he wanted intimacy or something and he felt rejected when he didn’t get it. Even if this is true, I feel like we shouldn’t be treated like that.
It’s getting to the point where I’m scared to even spend time with him. He can be incredibly toxic one day then be talking about planning a romantic outing the next. Then he gets mad I’m not 100% receptive to his plans. I'm afraid to spend time with him because I never know if I "did something to make him mad."
It’s like if you have a bag of skittles and someone says one of the skittles might be poisonous. You wouldn’t want to eat the skittles.

I’m (28F) a single mom to a wonderful 4-year-old boy, Leo, who is autistic. My sister, Emily (31F), has a 5-year-old daughter who is neurotypical. Recently, Emily has been making a lot of comments comparing our kids, and it’s starting to get on my nerves.
Emily often says things like, “Oh, my daughter can count to 100 already. How high can Leo count?” or “My daughter has so many friends at preschool. Does Leo play with other kids much?” While I know she loves her daughter and is proud of her, these comparisons make me feel like she’s highlighting Leo’s differences and shortcomings.
Last weekend, during a family BBQ, Emily made another comment about her daughter’s speech skills compared to Leo’s. I finally snapped and told her, “Emily, I wish you’d stop comparing our kids. Leo is doing amazing in his own way, and it hurts when you constantly point out what he isn’t doing.”
Emily looked shocked and got really upset. She said I was being overly sensitive and that she was just sharing her daughter’s achievements. Now my mom thinks I was too harsh and should apologize, but I feel like I needed to defend my son.
So, Reddit, AITA

I really want a transmogrification potion, and I’ve figured out that they’re incredibly expensive/ nearly impossible to come across. I’m not having a lick of luck getting a mutant through the lab ray though, and I haven’t quite got the super money methods figured out yet. I have discovered that you can ask through the wishing well though, and get incredibly lucky that way. Anyone know if that’s something you can ask for? Thank you in advance!