I had a dream probably 12 years ago that I’ve never forgotten, during one of the darkest times in my life when I was scared I’d fail in life
The dream began in a volcanic Ashland where I was traveling with a ragtag band of refugees trying to escape some horrible volcanic event or maybe even super volcanic event, so we were all journeying through this grey valley flanked by ashen mountains with a few distant volcanoes, I was the leader of this group and they were depending on me to hopefully guide them to survival.
We came to a huge obsidian temple structure and it was built onto the valley wall so we had to climb it to ascend out of the valley, so we entered. But the building had an ominous energy like something dark was sleeping inside of it.
Part of the way up, a young boy in my group was running ahead even though I told him to wait and tried to run after him, but as happens in dreams my legs were like lead and I couldn’t keep up. I had this growing sense of dread.
Then the boy slipped off the edge over an overhang and as I looked down after him he plunged into a lava pool, burning to death. My sense of dread didn’t go away it only increased. Somehow I knew (maybe because it was a dream made by my own mind) that that wasn’t the only horror that awaited us in here, this place wanted all of us not just the boy.
That dread manifested as the boy came clawing his way out from the lava pit and let out a horrifying cry like a nazgul or a ghoulish undead, with his flesh bubbling and dripping off of his bones in places he began sprinting with inhuman speed back towards the entrance of the obsidian temple he had fallen from, right back into the entrance.
My band of refugees began panicking, torn between the anguish of watching the boy die and the horror dawning on them of what he had become- a monster- and why he would come sprinting back into the temple some floors below us.
We all heard the inhuman commotion as his undead body slammed into corners, so great was his speed, and we all realized rather abruptly that he was closing in on our group.
I urged the group to begin climbing the stairwells that wrapped around the precipices of this obsidian temple, up towards the valley wall. We had only one possible escape: somehow reaching the top and whatever salvation waited for us up there from the desolate volcanic wasteland and the undead monster that had once been a little boy. So we all begun to sprint, but we were slow.
some of the refugees had bags, some were elderly men and women, it began to dawn on me that we had no hope to escape as i heard the monster closing in from below. I turned to confront him, readying to fight with no weapons.
When he emerged he looked at me with his ghastly skull shining through his melted off face and he spoke and said "You did this to me so I will punish you by making you live while your people die." And he ran past me with superhuman speed and tore into my group, beginning to butcher these weak powerless refugees even as I tried to fight him, plead with him, even as I tried to urge them to keep running, he eventually killed every last one of them with his long ghoul clawed skeletal hands.
"Im sorry." i said to him. "Im sorry i let you become a monster." and he just smiled back at me and stepped off the ledge, plunging again into the lava, this time to rest eternal, but the carnage of my mangled people now lay all around me, and still the black obsidian stairway beckoned, leading up into the tallest passes of the ashen mountains where smoke and fog obscured the path, I had nobody left and nowhere to go but up.
So i went up. Up, up, up through winding valley corridors of sheer black jagged rockfaces, ascending thousands of steps until the atmosphere seemed thin and the night stars shone from above, the distant red glow of the lava flows fading to a dull reminder of the carnage i was leaving behind me.
eventually the climb slowed but the path continued and the stairs began to turn downwards, the rock walls opened up into a dusty grey plain of old ash that had blown here from distant eruptions in the ashlands below, but it was cold up here and dark, and the fog parted and i saw in the distance a structure, not ominous and unnatural like the obsidian temple but a human structure, a distant farmhouse, but I had a feeling when i looked down the winding stairs at this house like i was looking into the blackness of a night that has a rapidly approaching tornado, totally invisible, the sight of this farmhouse gave me a sense of existential dread greater than even the obsidian temple had inspired. But i knew i had to keep going forward anyways. So, with despair in every step, i put one foot infront of the next and kept walking.
As i approached the house I realized its scale, it was not some small farmhouse, more of a manse, and the stairs on this path led straight to its roof where the stairs that had once led down from its top were gone. There was only a gaping black hole in the roof, my only way forward was into this abandoned structure, so with a heart full of fear i lowered myself down into pitch blackness.
I found myself in an ash flooded attic full of furniture like old spinning wheels and some misshapen objects with soot stained sheets over them, the room was so very cluttered with dillapidated old stuff that i could hardly navigate it. I kept bumping stuff then I froze, because on thr far side of the room i saw a sillouhette standing motionless. A feminine sillouhette that seemed like it moved slightly as I brushed against an old desk, causing a noise.
As she reacted, she turned towards me and I saw her face, and her mouth hung open, her jaw split in two, one half dangling and the other holding a malicious grimace.
She moved like a squid striking out from inky blackness at its prey, lifting up off her feet and drifting rapidly to me, her mangled jaw soon centering around my field of view as her face filled my vision and she grabbed the sides of my head, talking to me
"You have to pay for what he did to us, you have to see it all"
And she entered me, i just remember at this point in my dream my vision was full of motion, like she had possessed me and was flying me through the pages of her own history book, in a misty ashen blur of colors and shapes i found myself chopping wood in a dark forest with green leaves around, when a rage filled every fiber of my being and i turned towards a tent, gripping my axe as i swung it through the fabric, turning it on my first wife (in my dream i understood this to be the vision of the woman's husband when he murdered her with his axe) and splitting her jaw and head open rather than any log
I was crying abd begging to be left alone and allowed to leave when we swirled back into the attic, and the ghost was standing right there with inhuman stillness, i couldnt look away from her mangled face as she said "now you know what he did to me…" and she slowly disappeared into a small mist
I was deeply disturbed and crying and disoriented as i looked around the attic and saw a small wooden panel with some grey filtered light showing through it and i went that way, but as i did another ghost of a different women, her neck angled violently screamed at me and grabbed me and possessed me, now I was her husband, the same man with his second wife wringing her neck as she turbed blue
In this manner a series of murdered women ghosts possessed me, forcing me to witness their deaths from the poijt of view of their killer, all killed by the same horrible man in different violent ways, in total 7 stories of 7 murders of 7 dead wives, and each one whisming me to another part of this forsaken farmhouse where they had lurked waiting for whichever man was unlucky enough to enter this cursed homestead
My experience dreaming this was mostly an unsettling amount of vertigo during the dream and images of violence and these ghastly faces of ghosts filling my vision before flying me to another room where another ghost would stand motionless waiting to possess me, the entire time i felt like i was crying and falling from a very extreme height
Eventually though the last ghost released me from her possession and i stood in the kitchen room where she stood with me, her face blue from drowning in a bath tub, and she smiled at mr and spoke more gently than thr others had, she reached to take my hand but when i flinched and screamed she dropped her arm back down to her side and just smiled sadly at me
"Thank you"
And she and all other ghosts were gone and it was just me alone in this forsaken manse's kitchen, and i heard a sound i never expected, trickling water. So i walked towards it and found a back door on the ground level which opened easily, and i stepped outside and saw some white, ash-filtered sunlight and a sight that took my breath away, about 300 yards away was a running river with lush green trees and plants and a thundering waterfall, and i knew that my trials had passed as i walked out towards the end of the ashlands with my boots squishing in fertile muddy soil, and i woke up completely drenched in a puddle of my own sweat

The 7.7 UK Caernarvon is quite possibly the one of the worst tanks to grind especially right now. With all the Premium pack spams and the chance of getting a down tier lower than winning the lottery, I've found it to be more painful to grind than the Conqueror. The 20pdr APDS has some of the worst dispersion and it doesn't even have access to features like commander override. Not to mentions the usual UK sight zoom of 1.1x making it annoying to snipe.
I want to spade this thing but its become one of the most un fun vehicles to play. Idfk any suggestions and if you are gonna make any on the generic jokes about ApDsHeLlShAtTeReD or shit like that save it for the end please.

If you aren't interested in reading another "I hate hearthstone post" just move along. This is the last time I'm posting or reading anything to do with this game and I'm posting this as closure and as a diary entry of sorts. I've already uninstalled this game on every device. This isn't a cry for help, I'm doing it publicly because I've found myself reading a lot of posts like this one lately and they have all been helpful in me quitting this game. And that's what it is... just a game. (I'm telling myself this, not patronizing you).
I've been playing off and on since beta. I'm a "wild Paladin" player. Every time I play, I play for a couple months and then I uninstall...a year or year(s) passes by, and I play again for a couple months. I've only ever had one goal- reach legend. Every time I play, I reach the equivalent of Diamond 2ish. I say equivalent because the rank systems used to be different. Getting to low diamond is so much fun...and then I hit a wall and I can't get past diamond 2. I've created so many iterations of the deck I use (I use a control paladin deck, it's totally original) This is 3 months in a row for me this time around.
There are many reasons why I'm completely burned out on this game and why I need to make this post to remind myself NEVER to install it again...when I get the urge to install, I will reference this post.

1. My first mistake was choosing Paladin all those years ago. My entire collection is Paladin. Generally speaking, It's just a shit class.

a. The hero power just flat sucks. It should cost 1 mana, not 2.
b. Majority of cards are designed around a combo of some kind- mainly buffing a minion. Problem is, you need to have a minion to buff it...which is too slow. Everything relies on the board... which is a joke these days.
c. The OTK (Ebon Uther) has got to be one of the worst, if not the worst in comparison to other classes OTK's. You are forced to basically play a specific deck to use it, it's not a "stand alone" OTK card that you can just slide into your custom control deck... you need like 4-6 additional combo cards to make it viable, which means your netdecking if you want to use it. All decks pretty much have to have an OTK now unless they are ultra aggro...which means you can forget about anything other than some braindead netdeck like "Even Pally"... which the ladder sniffs out 3 days after it's posted online.

1. Every time I load up a match, I find myself tensing up immediately. cringing at the thought of playing against:

a. Shadow priest, who just outvalues all my cards and then "steals" or "copies" them to add insult to injury.
b. Rogue, whom I dominate in every facet of the game (while I watch rope as they pull all of their cards by turn 4) just to have him kill me by drawing infinite 4 damage to hero cards until I die...regardless of if I'm full 40 health or not.
c. Warlock, whom I dominate in every facet of the game just to have him kill me by drawing infinite card exhaust damage that goes to me instead of him... regardless of if I'm full 40 health or not.
d. Shaman, shudderwock. I find myself laughing out loud at how ridiculous it is... and not like a good hearty laugh... like one of those maniacal demented laughs where you're just in disbelief of what you are watching.
e. Mage. Pretty much any mage, but especially secret Mage. I find myself wondering if people create the most inconsiderate and annoying decks possible on purpose to get people to concede... well I'm here to say, it's working... I concede.
d. Location cards, non-interactive cards (like auras), copy some minion a million times, freeze the board a million times, then copy the minion who freezes the board a million times. Infinite discover cards, which are copied into more infinite discover cards. Watching my opponents play until rope every turn.

1. Then I realize...it's not the decks. It's not the people. It's not even the game. It's me. It doesn't matter what I load up or who I play, I get mad, I feel like the game itself has conspired against me at every turn... but especially on "rank up" games. I NEVER get the favorable match up, I NEVER get the right card draw, my opponent ALWAYS has the advantage and I'm ALWAYS playing from behind. The truth is, it was over before it started...I just didn't realize I was tilted until I've lost 70% of my games. The truth is... I'm ALWAYS titled when I play this game. It just pisses me off. I'll never be good enough to reach legend and the truth is...why should I even care? This game has brought nothing but rage and frustration. And when I go to install it again 3 years from now because I've forgotten all about all these little details...this diary entry will remind me and spare me the grief.

That said, good luck to the rest of you and I sincerely apologize if I've sent you hate messages for playing "cheating" or "annoying" decks... you were just playing the game as it was designed...and I hope you find what you're looking for.

Last night, when I was home alone, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.
Nobody was there to see it, and nobody that I’ve told believes me, but it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream.
I was watching TV when it happened. The remote fell under the couch and I started fishing around for it without really looking, not wanting to get up from my seat. I brushed it with the tips of my fingers and it slid further underneath.
I was super annoyed— I had to get down on my knees to reach it. I finally found the remote, and that’s when it grabbed me.
As I pulled the remote out into the light, a hand shot up from under the couch and wrapped its fingers around my wrist.
I was able to yank myself away quickly. It didn’t hold on tight— just enough that I felt a little resistance. I jumped to my feet, obviously terrified.
I didn’t scream or anything. I was honestly too scared to even make a sound. My heart was beating so fast that my ears started to ring. The TV was still going, commercials droning on while I tried to process what had just happened.
The hand had only come out about a foot from under the couch. It had an arm attached to it, though I wasn’t able to see past its elbow, and it slinked back below the couch as soon as I pulled myself free from its grasp.
It didn’t hurt, and it didn’t leave any sort of bruise or mark or anything on my wrist, but I definitely felt it, and I definitely saw it.
All I could do was stare at the spot where the hand had appeared. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps right outside my front door.
I live in a second-story apartment. It’s a pretty cramped place and a pretty old building, so whenever someone comes over I can usually hear footsteps from the moment they enter the building downstairs.
I guess I was so freaked out by the hand that I didn’t even notice someone was outside until they were already opening the door.
My roommate walked in on quite a scene. She immediately registered how off the vibe was. I could see it on her face.
She found me standing upright in the middle of our living room, TV remote in hand, facing away from the screen while Full House’s laugh track filled the air. I’m sure I’d think it was odd too.
“Hey…” she said, shifting a paper bag full of groceries in her arm while she pocketed her keys, “You good?”
I felt like I was caught with my pants down, but just seeing a familiar face brought some of the blood back to my fingers.
“N—yeah,” I stuttered. I came back online, and flicked the TV off.
I felt her eyes on me as she walked over to the kitchen. There’s no wall or anything dividing the two rooms. Like I said, the place is pretty cramped.
She started putting her groceries away as if everything was normal, but I could tell she wanted to ask what was up.
I kept looking back and forth between her and the couch. I can’t explain it, but I already knew that if I looked under there, I wouldn’t find any trace of whoever (or whatever) grabbed me.
As she started loading up the fridge, I dropped to my hands and knees once again. Without taking even a second to ready myself, I brought my head down to the ground and looked under the couch.
Nothing.
Pretty much what I expected. There was barely enough room for me to squeeze my arm under there for the remote. No way a whole person could fit beneath that thing, and even if they could, there’s no way I wouldn’t have seen them or heard them or something before they grabbed me.
“Seriously, what’s up?”
I looked up to see my roommate standing right behind me, arms crossed, clearly concerned.
I knew I was acting strange, and I knew that nothing I would come up with in the next five seconds could possibly excuse my behavior. I made a judgement call, honestly not really caring about how it would be received.
“I uh… something grabbed me earlier.”
“What?”
“Under the couch. I dropped the remote, and when I picked it up, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.”
Took her a second to respond.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s it. A hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. It happened like a minute before you got here.”
That part might have been a lie. I actually have no idea how long I had been standing in the middle of the room before she showed up.
“Wait so like someone broke in?”
“No. It’s just like I said. A hand reached out, grabbed me, and then it was gone.”
She just kinda looked at me for a while. I don’t blame her, but it’s not like there was any way for me to sugarcoat it.
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘am I sure?’ Yes, yes I’m fucking sure!”
My voice broke a little when I said that. I was still down on my knees, like I was praying for her to believe me.
“Okay well obviously that didn’t happen Sam.”I let out a desperate laugh and threw my hands up in the air. I slapped them down on my thighs dramatically and shook my head in exasperation.
“Yeah obviously it sounds fucking crazy but you asked what happened and that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m just being honest.”
I pulled myself up to my feet and walked around to the armrest of the couch. She kept studying me, probably thinking this was all a prank or something.
“What are you doing?” She asked, arms still glued across her chest.
“I’m checking under the couch.”
I pushed one end of the couch away from the wall. It was pretty heavy, and the coffee table stopped me from moving it too far. I dragged the coffee table towards the TV to free up some space.
My roommate started staring at the spot I was clearing as if she expected to see something there too.
I went back over to the armrest.
“Can you help me?”
She snapped out of her trance and silently went to grab the other side. We pulled the couch away from the wall, revealing a thick rectangle of dust that had not seen the light of day since we moved in a year ago.
I dropped to my knees once more and began wiping away the grime with my bare hands. There was nothing but the floorboards beneath it. No surprise.
I sat there for a second, eyes darting around the floor. No fingerprints in the dust, no scratches or marks or anything. I felt the tension in the room dissipate as my roommate found her voice again.
“I think you must have imagined it.”
I didn’t. There’s no way.
“Dude, no. I felt it and I saw it. Clear as day. It was a hand, and it grabbed me. That’s not the sort of thing you can just imagine.”
She scoffed, any fear left in her giving way to frustration.
“Whatever. This is fucking stupid. I’m going to bed.”
She stomped off towards her room.
“Wait.”
She spun on her heels as I stood up, probably expecting me to tell her I was joking about the whole thing.
“Can you help me flip the couch over?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Sure. But I’m not helping you put it back.”
She helped me lift the couch off of its legs and tilt it onto its front cushions, exposing the fabric underneath. She disappeared into her room and I went to work studying the underside of the sofa.
There was a zipper lining the bottom, but I found nothing inside when I opened it up. Just a hollow wooden frame and a bunch of crumbs.
I sat back against the wall, more tired than scared at that point.
I can’t believe she thinks I’m making this up. Why would I even do that? What purpose would it serve?
As I solemnly went about rebuilding our living room, I decided that the next day (today) I was gonna take off work, wait for her to leave, and really get to the bottom of this.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every nook and cranny of my room felt like a door left wide open, with something sinister waiting on the other side.
What if the hand comes back? What if it wants to hurt me next time? How can I even protect myself?
After like ten restless minutes in bed, I decided to move to the floor. I couldn’t help it. I kept imagining the hand reaching up from under the bed and grabbing me again.
I made a makeshift sleeping bag out of my comforter and some pillows, and I laid on my side so I could keep an eye on the underside of my bedframe while I slept. Maybe “slept” isn’t the right word. Even down there, I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes for longer than a minute.
Eventually sunlight began to peek through the blinds, and I heard some movement within the apartment. My roommate was finally up. I heard the front door close, and it was time to get to work.
I nearly threw my back out yanking the couch away from the wall to reveal the floorboards underneath. They aren’t real floorboards, just the kind of cheap-o fake shit they put in crappy houses to make them look more modern. Our whole apartment is like that— a thin coat of paint slapped over an old building from the 40s or whatever.
My dad actually owns this building. He lets me and my roommate stay here as long as we pay him $500 a month, which is way cheaper than most places in my area.
It’s not really an apartment building to be honest. You can tell it used to be a family home before some realtor swooped in and broke it up into apartments. There are a lot of those around here.
Anyway, the fake wood came up easy. It was only about a quarter inch thick. I was able to pull up the first plank by hammering a kitchen knife into a slit between the boards, and then I peeled a few more away by hand.
After prying away about a dozen of these fake floorboards, I started to realize that I wasn’t going to find anything without making a significantly larger dent. Right beneath the thin layer of fake wood was a layer of very real, very thick wooden beams that seemed to span well beyond the hole I had managed to claw open.
My back crackled and popped as I sat back on my heels to admire my handiwork and contemplate where to go from there. I knew I would need a power saw or some kind of heavy duty tool to get any deeper, but I was afraid of two things:

1. That these beams were supporting the entire second floor of the building, and cutting through them would make the whole thing collapse
2. That going any deeper would lead me into the ceiling of the apartment below us, and whoever lives there would call my dad before I could see what I needed to see.

Regardless of the risks, I knew I had to keep going. I was certain that something was down there. Whatever grabbed me had to have left some sort of evidence.
I can’t stop thinking about that fucking hand.
I’m not supposed to have it, but my dad gave me a master key for the whole building in case of emergencies. He could really get in trouble if anyone found out, but if this isn’t an emergency then idk what is.
There’s a service shed around the back of the building, which has seen none of the love that the main building saw when it was renovated. Decades worth of rusty antiques and rotting furniture line the walls. A shiny, modern tool bench sits unnaturally in the middle of the chaos.
I rifled through all of that shit as fast as I could. I’m not really close with my dad all things considered, and I’m sure he’d be super pissed if he found me out there. He’s so secretive about random shit all the time, and he’s constantly dropping by the building unannounced.
I found the jigsaw under a pile of old newspapers and ran back upstairs.
I probably should have checked the driveway to see if anyone was home first, because the saw made so much noise. The cord barely reached from the outlet to the spot where the couch used to be, but as awkward as the angle was, I was still able to get it in there.
I went as small as possible with my first few cuts. I started with a single beam, cutting out a section about 6x6 inches wide. I slid the chunk of wood out, and, to my relief, didn’t immediately see the plaster that would be my downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.
A tuft of insulation stuck out where I made the hole. I didn’t know that stuff is made from fiberglass or whatever, and I got a really bad splinter when I went to yank it out.
I fished some leather gloves out of my roommate’s closet and got to work on the insulation. I pulled and pulled but couldn’t get a good enough grip to remove anything more than a few bits about the size of a tennis ball.
I went back in with the jigsaw, cutting bigger and bigger chunks until I had cleared a hole about two feet in diameter.
No sign that I was gonna bring the building down, that’s good.
I hacked away for hours. More wood came up, more insulation came up, and when I finally hit a fragile-looking layer of drywall, I knew the jig was up. That’s definitely my neighbor’s ceiling. Fuck.
My roommate and I got in a screaming match when she got home. I made a pretty big mess but I don’t really give a fuck honestly.
I don’t give a fuck if she believes me. I fucking hate that bitch. I told her if she tells my dad what I’m doing, I’ll bash her brains in with the hammer. That shut her up. She left with a bag full of her clothes like an hour later.
Tomorrow I’m going to wait for our downstairs neighbor to leave and start investigating from the bottom-up. If there wasn’t any evidence on the floor up here, there HAS to be something on the ceiling down there.
If I do find something, I’ll post again. I doubt anyone will even believe me, but at this point I just want everything written down somewhere accessible in case something bad happens.
There has to be something down there. Something grabbed me. And I’m going to find out what it is.

So, since I grew up the way in which I did, I wasn’t completely socialized. Compared to some kids in my class, I was very social, but I digress.
As I aged, I found myself being more of an observer than a participant. Participating didn’t always work out for me because when I tried, I always screwed something up. I didn’t get the jokes, I couldn’t tell who was being serious (that definitely would have helped me as a young kid and teenager). It wasn’t until I met my spouse that I learned dry humor, and how to recognize it.
Being in the position of an observer has afforded me a lot of room for thought. Like, there was the time in college where my roommates and I were hosting a party. This giant of college kid was mad at his girlfriend - he was drunk and screaming at her (I think some other dude said hi to her).
The man had her pinned up against a wall, one hand on the wall to the left of her head, the other punching the wall to the right of her head.
I was yelling at him to back off, and I was going to insert myself in between them because, as a kid, that’s what I had needed but no one did it for me.
It would have been stupid but the guy made me furious. My boyfriend pulled me away and held me and said, “Wait until he calms down and kick him from the party.” Hey, it was the 1990’s, and I was young. He was young. He ended up being right.
I thought about that girl a lot - wondered if she ever dumped her brute of a boyfriend, or did she stay with him? Never found out.
Decades later, I was put in an untenable position where a family member was about to up end their life over some woman - they were going to abandon their kids, their family, all of it.
I managed to get through that, but after all is said and done, and I look at the facts like they are playing cards laying on a green velvet-covered table, I saw how the woman brainwashed him.
1) she kept him from sleeping more than five hours a night;
2) she made up situations to where he was the only one who could solve it for her, such as she pretended like an old boyfriend was chasing her in a car and she needed my family member to keep her safe;
3) she isolated him from his kids;
4) she tried to get him to sign for her to get a new car, and she promised she’d pay for it but she couldn’t buy it unless he signed for it. (Fortunately, he didn’t).
5) she told him what to think. If he tried to think for himself, she wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed with her. His family were the bad guys. He needed to see that.
5) finally, he was to replace his own kids with hers. He was expected to accept this new family in lieu of everyone he knew and used to love.
It’s a tall ask, you know. And yet, every year, you’ll hear or learn of someone who did go down that road and never came back. Or, they came back but there was no back to go back to.
My job, in dealing with this family member, was to pick up the pieces and deprogram them gently.
You think to yourself: “this wouldn’t happen to me because I’m way too smart. I make educated decisions.” But, near as I can tell, smart has nothing to do with it.
Brainwashing works on how open the subject is to modifying the way they think, and their need to be accepted in their new group. I guess it’s like training a dog: good stimulus equals a reward, bad behavior earns a punishment, either physical or mental (or both).
The subject must also think that their previous way of thinking was sub-par. They must have a low opinion of their intelligence.
Of course, a lot of you guys and gals may already know how it works, or heard about it on a documentary.
It’s different to have a front row seat to it, though. Really surreal.
Right now, I have a family member that I am not close to, he is being manipulated hard by his current girlfriend. I see all the signs of what she is doing, it ain’t my first rodeo.
I tell his daughter, “I will do what I can to help, but I can’t talk to him. He doesn’t like me. The only way he can be saved is you and your brother get together and see if you can get some physical distance to happen between this woman and your dad.”
So far - everything we’ve predicted has come true: she’s bled him dry, financially. He went from having a nest egg to selling off all his assets. He has signed on to buy property and vehicles with her. She made him lose his job.
What’s next? His daughter cares for him, but he wasn’t a model dad by a long shot.
So I don’t know what to do there.
And just recently, another family member washed up on my shores. This one is young.
The brainwashing in this case is mental and physical abuse.
In this case, I created a team of three people to work together to help this person see who they are really with.
My job is to create a safe zone for them. Another’s job is to be there and be the person all the secrets are told to. And the last person is supposed to be the persuader, the person who helps this family member stick to plans, to say what is expected without being pushy or negative, so that they don’t go back to the old life.
One of the people on the team said to me, “How are we all talking about this so calmly?” The subject of the conversation was sitting right there in the room. I said, “I know, it’s surreal. But this is how we have to do it. We are going to solve this.”
Delicately stepping, delicately stepping.
I think to myself, had I washed up on my mother’s shores with a problem like this, she would have kicked me back out and said, “Figure it out for yourself, I’m not going to help you. It’s your problem.”
I always knew I was on my own, and I can’t say I didn’t screw things up royally from time to time.
But, also, I know that had I had help, maybe things could have been better for me later. I’ll never know. I still don’t know the answer.
I choose to help. I choose to take my emotional side and shove it in the back, and then find out the chinks in the opponent’s armor.
He may have a lot going for him, but it is not my family member’s job to fix him, to make him a better person. He could be the most brilliant person in the world - but you can’t save some people from themselves. He is harmful, and nightmarish.
Battered person syndrome. It’s another form of brainwashing, where the woman/man doesn’t think they should leave, because there are all these good things about the partner that, if they could just change, would make them the perfect life partner.
I’m beginning to think it doesn’t matter if it is drugs, or being beaten and having Stockholm Syndrome - it’s all a form of brainwashing.
I’m lucky enough to have a good team to work with me.
I was thinking today, as I was still coughing and getting over this horrible sickness I’ve had for three weeks: I’m tired. I don’t want to deal with nonsense but I will because that’s what family does.
We are blessed, no matter what. I’m feeling lucky. I’m glad I’m here for it.
I know my mom would have handled it differently (she had to go through it herself). But, I don’t think life should be so fucking hard. If we work together we can do a job better. No one should have to go through these things alone.
You lift up the next generation so they can climb the mountain a little more. I just want people to get further than I did.

I need to talk about this because i need avices. So me and this guy met about a month ago and got along really well at first, we didn’t have any trouble in our conversations etc. When we got to know each other, i found some strange such as him using dating apps for his work (clients), him flirting with his them as a joke…. He knows i need a lot of reassurance because i overthink little things due to some past relationships, but every time he tells me that I worry too much for nothing and just to enjoy the now instead of thinking about the future about things that didn’t even happen. Now there’s the main thing. We live in a different continent and we both agreed to meet in a year and get to know each other in the meantime, and obviously we did talk about sexual things. I asked him if he will ever do something with a guy while waiting to meet in person and his answer was that he had « needs ». I told him I wasn’t comfortable with him doing so (and also flirting with his clients) but he just said that it wasn’t a concern yet at all. I told him that even thinking about it was wrong since he said he liked me, but it was apparently just a random thing and not actual sex. I kind of let go for a week but for the past few days I’ve been thinking about it constantly because if he’s willing to do that im not going to waste my time with him. The last message he sent was before going to work was that « I was insane when it comes to love » (because as I said I need a lot of reassurance and im always scared they’ll abandon me due to past issues) I just went to sleep and woke up to me blocked on one of his social, he didn’t even bother to read the texts I sent him before doing so. I texted him on the other social I had with him and surprisingly I wasn’t blocked there, I told him I wasn’t trying to save anything anymore and I was cutting contact with him. That being said, I need yall opinion to see if I really am insane or if he was right and im paranoid about meaningless things
EDIT: he also ghosted me twice in not even a month, for 13h & 11h without a good reason

Have I been here before? Yes. Will I learn my lesson? No.
I'm stubborn as hell when it comes to being a hopeful romantic. People are always better than what the world shows them to be. But finding them, that's the hard part. So here I am. Doing the hard part.
I want us to be best friends. True and vulnerable with each other. Make each other feel validated, seen, wanted, desired. All of it. I love giving and I hope to find someone who loves it too. And hopefully we can build something meaningful and lasting through it, while at the same time have something carnal and passionate. One where we take care of each other in every way.
I can be sarcastic as hell and the dad jokes will keep coming, but with the right person, I can only imagine how crazy the banter would be. And hopefully if we find each other attractive, it would be so much more amazing to see you in way not everyone sees.
Please put some effort into the conversation. Because I definitely will.
Here is me: https://imgur.com/a/aSTSRgX
If this got your attention, hit me up and make sure to include your picture in your message so we both know who we are talking to. That way we can both start off strong. :)

Previous entry: https://www.reddit.com/buffy/comments/1cpqgdq/rewatchers_diary_season_2_episodes_5_to_7/
On today's menu: The Dark Age (2x8) and What's My Line (2x9-2x10).
Quick thoughts: The Dark Age is fine, What's My Line is part of why BTVS is great.
The Dark Age
Summary: Giles' dark past comes back to haunt him. It ends up hurting Jenny and distancing her from him.
This was fine. I didn't quite have the greatness which BTVS is capable of, but it was fine.
Random thoughts in a random order:

• In this episode we have the line "three down, two to go". In the next one we'll have "one down, one gone", and I think in the previous episode—Lie To Me (2x7)—there was also some take on "N down, M to go". These phrases always make me think of Willow's "one down" line in Villains (6x20), and the title of the next episode, Two to Go (6x21).
• Ooh, more Ethan! Ethan is great!
• I used to be a teenager, but it's a while ago. I liked Buffy's line near the end, which I'll inadvertently paraphrase: "I used to think of you as a grown-up [i.e. distant], now I discovered you're a person [i.e. relatable]". I think I must have forgotten the teen perspective and just how big the gap feels. The ages in my current friendship circles spans four decades. The scoobies at some point refer to Giles as "their grown-up friend". Huh, I guess I'm someone's grown-up friend, and my life feels less weird than the show is made to look on that occasion. Oh well, we have a shared recreational activity in real life, so the friendship that spans a big age range is genuine; affectionate as it is, Giles and the scoobies have more of a working relationship than a friendship. (In my book Giles hasn't fully stepped into the surrogate father role yet.)
• I guess I should talk about how this is a cautionary tale to young people about bad decisions in one's youth having the capacity to exact a price later in life. Uhm. It is.
• Hey, the morgue where Phillip (Deirdre's victim / transfer target) rises from the apparently-dead, is that the same morgue we saw in Never Kill a Boy on the First Date (1x5)? It kinda' looks like it.
• Yay for Willow being assertive towards Xander and Cordelia, "[either get to work, or] get the hell out of my library!"
• Poor Giles, having to once again face the fact that his actions got one of his friends killed, and now having to consider the fact that they may also get his love interest killed.
• Hey, does this feed thematically into the the way Buffy feels responsible for, in some sense, killing Angel (and making Angelus replacing him) in Surprise (2x13)? I think it might.
• Ooh: in this episode Angel saves Jenny. In Passion (2x17) Angel kills Jenny. (Yes, okay, Angelus.)
• Giles' irresponsible decisions almost got Jenny killed. Buffy's irresponsible decisions—unleashing Angelus—actually got Jenny killed.

What's My Line
Summary: Career day at school. The next slayer, Kendra, has a short enemies-to-rivals-to-friends with Buffy. Drusilla is restored while Spike is injured during the attempted escape, and Angel is injured during Drusilla's restoration ritual.
Oh boy, this is great. Random thoughts in a random order:

• Ooh, more Terminator references! Buffy is targeted for termination by (a) someone disguised as a police officer; and (b) a shapeshifting creature made of liquid metal maggots.
• Buffy is already doing uh supernatural community policing, so her as a police officer makes sense. I've not read the comics but I've heard she actually becomes a LEO. Her future as a LEO doesn't get much screen time, but I was still surprised by how much.
• But her actual career right now is being the Slayer, and Kendra shows Buffy how to do it by the book™.
• In that light, it's interesting that Buffy's determination increases a notch when she realizes it's personal: "no one messes with my boyfriend!"
• Willy! Ooooh I like Willy the slime ball.
• He suggests Buffy and Kendra might do "art photography, but naked". Buffy is 16 which is less than 18. Given SMG's age and look, Willy might have overestimated Buffy's age—but still, if such photography happened it would legally be ch*ld p*rn. I recall Buffy dismissing Willy with a disgusted face. I'm not sure how I feel about the show not commenting more strongly on this.
• On a lighter note (maybe), there was such a wonderful scene with Spike holding Drusilla in his arms and the two dancing after Spike talking about dancing on the slayer's grave. In Crush (5x14) Spike would happily dance with Buffy on Drusilla's grave. Between The Gift (5x22) and Bargaining (6x1-6x2), Spike is deeply troubled by the slayer having a grave. Oh how the tables will turn. And I guess in Chosen (7x22) Buffy is... not dancing, but definitely feeling a sense of relief, while standing atop the place where Spike is buried (the whole in the ground that used to be Sunnydale).
• Spike and Drusilla is an incredibly sexy couple. May I join in, please?
• Oz and Willow, while not yet a couple, are so cute together.
• Xander and Cordelia kiss. They are sooo awkward together.
• Buffy touching and kissing Angel in vamp face at the skating rink: the music makes it appear all romantic and stuff, suggesting that she's mature enough to see the man hiding below the monster's exterior. But really—I think—she's too blinded by hormones to notice the monster and the monstrous pile of red flags.
• Speaking of which, "We have this thing at school / Career day? / How do you know? / I lurk", that came across as somewhat stalker-like behavior to me. When Buffy tries to read Angel's mind in Earshot (3x18) out of jealousy, Angel says "[just ask]". Why doesn't Angel just ask what's going on in Buffy's life, then?
• Drusilla has been wearing her white dress the whole time, which I associate with purity and innocence. When at the end she's restored to her full strength and thus capacity for evil she's wearing all black. A nice contrast.
• Drusilla's white dress makes me think of a bridal gown. I think there ought to be some joke about a vampire couple staying together "till death do you part", but I haven't quite nailed it yet.

Updated episode tier list:

• S-tier: 7
• A-tier: 9 10
• B-tier: 3 6 > 1
• C-tier: 8 > 5
• D-tier: 2 4

Reading and reflecting, I understand that I'm coming under the definition of a "nice guy". I can feel myself being the weakest among my roommates, even though we're in the same program of grad school. I'm always looking up to someone - I constantly see other people as better than me. Smarter than me. Stronger than me. More experienced than me (dating, relationships, academics, work, health, you name it). I'm glad that I'm - well - me with the world and life I've been brought into and the circumstances. I worked hard through college to get into grad school. I'm grateful for the things that have been given to me.
But lately I keep wishing to acquire parts of other people. I want to be respected like that guy. I want to be knowledgeable and well read like that guy. I want to be desired by girls like that guy is. And yet - can I ever?
After my breakup four years ago, I took the time in college to work on my fitness, health, and academics (probably could have done a better job with the last one). And after moving to grad school, I have learned some things I never would have living with my parents. I can cook now, I work part-time while doing a full-time graduate degree.
But again, it's nothing compared to the people around me. I don't feel like and have never felt like an equal. Today was a perfect example.
I matched with a girl last week, we exchanged numbers, and even set a date for today but I got ghosted shortly on Friday (I'm very sure of this). I'm not thinking too much about why she ghosted me. And today, my roommate had a date with that same girl. He didn't even swipe - she liked his Hinge profile upfront. Of course my roommate didn't know, but it was clear what it meant to me, and why he wasn't bothered by the fact that I had matched with her and had a date planned too.
What's worse is that I kept apologizing for mentioning that I matched with the same girl - that my first thought was "Did I say something wrong?".
I take more time than these people on projects and assignments. They do way cooler things than I do. I got an internship at a leading company in the US, but I still feel beneath them. I still feel I'm a joke to these guys. I'm not respected, am I?
I can't think of anything that can make things different - I'm roped into watching movies and plans with a guest who they invite every weekend night for dinner and a movie. I can cook for everyone, but even then I can't help but do the dishes even though the rule is that one person cooks and another person cleans. I don't have control. If there's any hint I do, it's my fault for not stepping up. Even if I do step who who will take me seriously?
Even this is an example of being a textbook nice guy - I'm claiming to be a victim here, aren't I? The only solution I can htink of for things being different is if I could live alone. If I had complete independence over my time and what I want to do. If I din't have to answer to any roommate or anyone. I imagined with a Master's I could acquire deep knowledge, spend time actually learning this subject I'm passionate about but I'm barely getting by. Life, this social life gets in the way from living with these people. If I'm not agreeing I'll be disliked and life will be uncomfortable. Not that I'm in the position to move out anytime soon - I often rely on help from the more experienced roommates to figure out problems I get stuck on with assignments.
It's all on me. It's up to me to make a change. But I feel like I can't. I feel helpless and guilty and angry. I can't imagine any empathy to this post, but if there's any chance or hope you can sense from what I shared... Please help by commenting. Anything helps. I don't know where to turn to right now - what time I can afford, who to tell.

Solar panels are marvels of modern engineering, silently transforming sunlight into usable electricity. But what exactly is the power output of a solar panel? How much energy can you realistically expect from these sleek, sun-soaking rectangles?
This comprehensive guide will demystify solar panel power output, explaining the key concepts, influencing factors, and how it translates to meeting your energy demands.

Watts and Kilowatts: The Language of Solar Power

Like light bulbs, solar panels are rated in watts (W). This measurement indicates their maximum power production under ideal conditions, known as peak sun.
​

• Watt: A single unit of power. Think of it as the "brightness" of a solar panel.
• Kilowatt (kW): A thousand watts. Most residential solar panel systems range from 4 kW to 10 kW.

Standard Solar Panel Wattage

Modern residential solar panelstypically range from 250 to 450 watts per panel. This means a single panel could power several small appliances or a significant portion of a larger one. However, most homes need multiple panels to cover their entire energy needs.

Factors Affecting Solar Panel Output

The power output of a solar panel isn't static; it's influenced by several factors:
​

• Sunlight Intensity: The more intense the sunlight, the more power your panels will generate. This varies throughout the day and seasonally.
• Panel Efficiency: Not all panels are created equal. Some convert sunlight to electricity more efficiently than others. Look for panels with higher efficiency ratings for optimal output.
• Temperature: Ironically, solar panels become less efficient as temperatures rise. This is why proper ventilation and mounting practices are crucial.
• Shading: Any obstruction, even partial, reduces a panel's output significantly. Proper placement and orientation are vital to maximize sunlight exposure.
• Angle and Orientation: In the Northern Hemisphere, panels facing south at a tilt angle roughly equal to your latitude typically produce the most energy.

From Watts to Kilowatt-Hours: Your Solar Energy Production

The amount of electricity your solar panels generate over time is measured in kilowatt-hours (kWh). This is the unit you see on your electricity bill.
To estimate your annual production, consider:
​

1. Your System Size: The total wattage of all your panels combined (e.g., a 6 kW system has 6,000 watts).
2. Peak Sun Hours: The average daily hours of direct sunlight in your location.
3. Panel Efficiency: This will vary based on the specific model.

A solar professional can provide a more accurate estimate tailored to your location and system.

Matching Output to Your Needs

The goal is to match your solar panel system's output to your home's energy consumption. Factors to consider include:
​

• Your Electricity Usage: Analyze your past bills to determine your average monthly kWh usage.
• Future Energy Needs: Are you planning to add electric appliances or vehicles? This may increase your energy needs.
• Financial Goals: Do you want to offset your entire bill or just a portion?

FAQs

• What is the average solar panel output per day? This varies greatly depending on location, panel efficiency, and weather conditions. A rough estimate is 1.5 to 2.5 kWh per day for a standard panel.
• How do I calculate how much solar power I need? A solar professional can help you accurately size your system based on your energy usage and goals.
• Can I add more solar panels later? Yes, most systems can be expanded if your energy needs increase.

Read more: The Best Time to Install Solar Panels: A Strategic Guide for Savings and Sunshine

​

Conclusion

Understanding solar panel power output is key to making informed decisions about your renewable energy journey. With the right knowledge and guidance, you can harness the sun's power to significantly reduce or eliminate your reliance on the grid, save money, and contribute to a cleaner environment.

so i have extreme anxiety and ocd, i also have the most understanding loving boyfriend in the world. but over the past few months ive developed ROCD and im going to be honest right now its eating away at me and i feel hopeless. recently i made a new mate who i have a class with, and i come home from having that class and instantly my brain attacks me about "what if u flirted with him?" "was this flirting?" "your unloyal" let me say - i only have eyes for my boyfriend and i know that, and my ocd attacks the things i love most cuz that is what ocd does. but ig im just wondering if having a laugh about something and making jokes is considered flirting? i talk about my bf and how much i love him so he obviously knows i have one and ik its just funny banter but my head wont shut up. it keeps "what if you flirted and didn't know?" but i know i would never mean to actually do that. idk i feel so hopeless and trapped i'm thinking of seeing a therapist again, but am i the only one and is this just my ROCD and overthinking??

Hello, kamusta kayong lahat? Medyo mahaba po itong ikukwento ko sainyo. Tungkol sa ex ko na 4 years kami (Tawagin nalang natin syang W). By the way, I am 24F and 25M naman sya. Nagkakilala kami nung college, same school magkaibang course nga lang. Nagmatch kami sa T 🔥- dating app kasi pinatry ako ng mga kaibigan ko eh ako uto-uto tapos di ko naman expected. Sa una syempre masaya kami. Hindi ako kagandahan pero sya chinito na maputi. Idk nga ano nagustuhan nya saakin eh.
During our 1st year na magbf/gf, okay naman sya. Siguro kasi 1st bf ko sya. Hindi pa ako marunong ng mga redflag redflag na yan noon kasi first time. Puro lang kasi ako crush crush nung college. In short bulag ang ate mo kasi inlove. Unang napapansin ko sakanya na akala ko normal, nahihiya sya na makita ng mga blockmates nya na kasama ako. Hindi naman ako ganun kapangit. Tapos naman napansin ko pag nasa mall kami napapalingon sya sa girls yun talaga nagalit ako sabi ko nakaka-bastos sa part ko eh ako marupok pinatawad.
Nung nagpandemic na, nagstart na sya mag-iba ng ugali. Meron pa akong nadiscover meron syang addiction sa p()rn. Yung 365 days nakailang ulit sya kasi nakita ko sa history ng account nya. Nadismaya ako kasi hindi ko alam na meron syang ganun side kasi nung mga previous years okay naman sya or baka bihira kami magkita kasi busy sa schoolworks? Nangungulit din sya magpasend ng video ko or pictures na nud3s pero ayoko talaga nagagalit sya bina block nya ako. Akala ko normal na tampuhan yun redflag na pala. Naalala ko pa nanunuod kami TV lumabas si Ms. Catriona Gray sa isang show sabi nya saakin "Kung ganyan kaganda GF ko buntis agad yan sakin ihi lang pahinga. Joke lang" nagtaasan balahibo ko sa sinabi nya sabi ko "G@go? Ano ba sinasabi mo? Saka sa itsura mong yan papatulan ka nyan?" sobrang inis ko kasi sakanya kaya ganun sinabi ko.
2021, una akong nagka-work saamin. Actually for experience lang kaya ako nag apply bilang JO kahit 6k sahod sabi ko okay lang wala pa naman ako ginagastusan. Kaya simula nung nagwork ako spoiled sya sakin, food, damit, or anything na request nya na afford ko binibili ko kasi mahal ko at tanga ako eh. Dumating sa time na nakaipon sya ng marami kasi binibigyan ko sya 500 or 1k depende sa budget ko monthly yan. Kada lumalabas kami sabi nya wala sya pera edi ako na naman taya pero marami sya ipon ayaw lang gumastos naintindihan ko ulit yun kasi alam ko wala sya work and nagrereview for board exam. Hanggang sa napapansin ko lumalala ang mga luho na umabot sa point nagka-utang utang ako mabili lang gusto nya at takot ako maiwan diba ako si tanga?
2022, dito na gumuho mundo ko. Mid-July right after my birthday I noticed na merong active reactor sa posts nya sa FB. I stalked the girl, hubadera and single mom. Nagduda ako and kinausap sya. Sabi ko "Hi kilala mo si W****?" Grabe kabog dibdib ko kasi alam ko something is wrong I can feel it. Sabi nya yes we're fubu. Grabe as in grabe gulantang ko nanlamig talaga ako di ako makapagsalita nakaramdam ako ng pagkahilo. Sunod sunod na iyak ko. Hindi ako nagkamali sa pagdududa ko. Sabi ko "I see kelan pa?" sinabi nya date and yun yung time na panay hingi sya sakin ng pera it turns out pang check in nila ni single mom and sabi ko "GF nya ko 4 years na kami" di nya raw alam na may GF ang sabi raw kasi "single na 2years ago".
Kinalma ko sarili and nagpasalamat pa sa honesty ni single mom. Chinat ko bf ko and sinabi ko lahat sakanya and ginaslight pako at nagalit na walang katotohanan lahat na sinabi ni single mom. Tinanong ko sya "bakit mo nagawa yun?" sagot nya sakin "Eh kasi nagsasawa na ko sayo." I'm so confused and lost di ko na alam. Durog na durog ako, I mean lahat ng kabaitan, pagmamahal binigay ko, suporta lahat and eto lang ipapalit saakin?
I ghosted him pagod na ko ayoko na. Blocked sa lahat ng soc med, deleted his number and started to move on sabi ko sa sarili ko tama na. After a month, narealize ko isang araw lang pala ako umiyak na malala, kasi kami palang nagmomove-on na ako. Hindi ako natrato ng tama, puro pala ako beg ni isang regalo wala ako natanggap sakanya. Gabi-gabi ko sya iniiyakan nung college bukod sa acads. Puro trauma dinulot nya saakin at problema and hindi ko narealize kasi mahal na mahal ko sya. Nung nakawala ako sakanya parang nawalan ako tinik sa dibdib naging peaceful tulog ko. Mr. Mechanical Engineer napatawad na kita, I'll take it as a blessing hindi ako marunong magtanim ng sama ng loob. Niligtas ako ni Lord sa kagaya mo. And ngayon, I'm so contented na sa buhay ko masaya na ako. Nagagawa ko na mga gusto ko. And si single mom? Last na balita ko sakanya ka-date nya yung classmate mismo ni Ex ko.

Reading and reflecting, I understand that I'm coming under the definition of a "nice guy". I can feel myself being the weakest among my roommates, even though we're in the same program of grad school. I'm always looking up to someone - I constantly see other people as better than me. Smarter than me. Stronger than me. More experienced than me (dating, relationships, academics, work, health, you name it). I'm glad that I'm - well - me with the world and life I've been brought into and the circumstances. I worked hard through college to get into grad school. I'm grateful for the things that have been given to me.
But lately I keep wishing to acquire parts of other people. I want to be respected like that guy. I want to be knowledgeable and well read like that guy. I want to be desired by girls like that guy is. And yet - can I ever?
After my breakup four years ago, I took the time in college to work on my fitness, health, and academics (probably could have done a better job with the last one). And after moving to grad school, I have learned some things I never would have living with my parents. I can cook now, I work part-time while doing a full-time graduate degree.
But again, it's nothing compared to the people around me. I don't feel like and have never felt like an equal. Today was a perfect example.
I matched with a girl last week, we exchanged numbers, and even set a date for today but I got ghosted shortly on Friday (I'm very sure of this). I'm not thinking too much about why she ghosted me. And today, my roommate had a date with that same girl. He didn't even swipe - she liked his Hinge profile upfront. Of course my roommate didn't know, but it was clear what it meant to me, and why he wasn't bothered by the fact that I had matched with her and had a date planned too.
What's worse is that I kept apologizing for mentioning that I matched with the same girl - that my first thought was "Did I say something wrong?".
I take more time than these people on projects and assignments. They do way cooler things than I do. I got an internship at a leading company in the US, but I still feel beneath them. I still feel I'm a joke to these guys. I'm not respected, am I?
I can't think of anything that can make things different - I'm roped into watching movies and plans with a guest who they invite every weekend night for dinner and a movie. I can cook for everyone, but even then I can't help but do the dishes even though the rule is that one person cooks and another person cleans. I don't have control. If there's any hint I do, it's my fault for not stepping up. Even if I do step who who will take me seriously?
Even this is an example of being a textbook nice guy - I'm claiming to be a victim here, aren't I? The only solution I can htink of for things being different is if I could live alone. If I had complete independence over my time and what I want to do. If I din't have to answer to any roommate or anyone. I imagined with a Master's I could acquire deep knowledge, spend time actually learning this subject I'm passionate about but I'm barely getting by. Life, this social life gets in the way from living with these people. If I'm not agreeing I'll be disliked and life will be uncomfortable. Not that I'm in the position to move out anytime soon - I often rely on help from the more experienced roommates to figure out problems I get stuck on with assignments.
It's all on me. It's up to me to make a change. But I feel like I can't. I feel helpless and guilty and angry. I can't imagine any empathy to this post, but if there's any chance or hope you can sense from what I shared... Please help by commenting. Anything helps. I don't know where to turn to right now - what time I can afford, who to tell.

Reading and reflecting, I understand that I'm coming under the definition of a "nice guy". I can feel myself being the weakest among my roommates, even though we're in the same program of grad school. I'm always looking up to someone - I constantly see other people as better than me. Smarter than me. Stronger than me. More experienced than me (dating, relationships, academics, work, health, you name it). I'm glad that I'm - well - me with the world and life I've been brought into and the circumstances. I worked hard through college to get into grad school. I'm grateful for the things that have been given to me.
But lately I keep wishing to acquire parts of other people. I want to be respected like that guy. I want to be knowledgeable and well read like that guy. I want to be desired by girls like that guy is. And yet - can I ever?
After my breakup four years ago, I took the time in college to work on my fitness, health, and academics (probably could have done a better job with the last one). And after moving to grad school, I have learned some things I never would have living with my parents. I can cook now, I work part-time while doing a full-time graduate degree.
But again, it's nothing compared to the people around me. I don't feel like and have never felt like an equal. Today was a perfect example.
I matched with a girl last week, we exchanged numbers, and even set a date for today but I got ghosted shortly on Friday (I'm very sure of this). I'm not thinking too much about why she ghosted me. And today, my roommate had a date with that same girl. He didn't even swipe - she liked his Hinge profile upfront. Of course my roommate didn't know, but it was clear what it meant to me, and why he wasn't bothered by the fact that I had matched with her and had a date planned too.
What's worse is that I kept apologizing for mentioning that I matched with the same girl - that my first thought was "Did I say something wrong?".
I take more time than these people on projects and assignments. They do way cooler things than I do. I got an internship at a leading company in the US, but I still feel beneath them. I still feel I'm a joke to these guys. I'm not respected, am I?
I can't think of anything that can make things different - I'm roped into watching movies and plans with a guest who they invite every weekend night for dinner and a movie. I can cook for everyone, but even then I can't help but do the dishes even though the rule is that one person cooks and another person cleans. I don't have control. If there's any hint I do, it's my fault for not stepping up. Even if I do step who who will take me seriously?
Even this is an example of being a textbook nice guy - I'm claiming to be a victim here, aren't I? The only solution I can htink of for things being different is if I could live alone. If I had complete independence over my time and what I want to do. If I din't have to answer to any roommate or anyone. I imagined with a Master's I could acquire deep knowledge, spend time actually learning this subject I'm passionate about but I'm barely getting by. Life, this social life gets in the way from living with these people. If I'm not agreeing I'll be disliked and life will be uncomfortable. Not that I'm in the position to move out anytime soon - I often rely on help from the more experienced roommates to figure out problems I get stuck on with assignments.
It's all on me. It's up to me to make a change. But I feel like I can't. I feel helpless and guilty and angry. I can't imagine any empathy to this post, but if there's any chance or hope you can sense from what I shared... Please help by commenting. Anything helps. I don't know where to turn to right now - what time I can afford, who to tell.

I (23 F) like this guy (23 M) but my mom told me not to date him. What should I do?
I have been in a situationship since the last 7 months. We were friends since 4 years but we started talking and didn’t even realize when we started liking each other. We legit told each other we like each other and hooked up also. He is a really nice guy but my family doesn’t approve of him because of various reasons which is why I was hesitant as I some requirements in a guy and he doesn’t meet them so I didn’t commit. I finally thought it doesn’t matter and I told my mom I’ll commit to him but she said no. The reason are: My family believes in high education- atleast masters but he doesn’t believe in it and has done very basic education from a normal university (not high rank). I will also he leaving for my education in 3-4 months time to a different country for a year. His family is very old school and has lower class mentality such as girls need to be home by 7pm or not drink whereas my family is very open. Their family also doesn’t spend on lifestyle such as food restaurants or brands whereas I love shopping and going out to read. I also wanted a guy who has traveled the world but he hasn’t. I don’t even get along with his friends which I am trying to.
But I am sooo confused, I like him but I think all these points matter in the future and once we get more serious. He wants to get serious and make it work. He thinks I am on the same page. He is a really nice person.
When we say serious, it means marriage is in the picture after 3-4 years so I don’t know if I can marry into such a family because in my culture the girl is expected to live with the family. He even jokingly mentioned he is willing to move out if his wife won’t like his family. But I am a very family oriented person and would never ask him to do something like this. I’ll just end up adjusting and this is not something my mom wants for me . She thinks I deserve better. My mom is the best person ever and she will accept him wholeheartedly if I be very persistent. He come over and she has met his family many times and dispite of thought not meeting. She gives them full respect but she doesn’t want to compromise and adjust all my life.
I thought I’ll talk to him and tell him that I don’t want to be in a situationship but also not date and he can see other people specially since I’ll be leaving for higher education so I don’t want him to wait. I feel he will suggest committing to each other (which we already have but not said it verbally).
I think it is going to be like a break up but I don’t want hurt him and still be friends.
I don’t want to hurt him, what is the right thing to say or do. Should I end it or go against my mom and see if it works? I am not marrying him rn and that is a future problem but the more I get into it . It will be difficult to leave.
Please advice.

On paper, I probably can’t really afford to live by myself. Especially in my city, i’d see all these articles for things like “experts show to support yourself independently in [insert relatively HCOL city], you’d have to make 90k a year” etc.
well, I make less than half that. Actually I make like a 3rd of that. Haha never figured out the whole money-making thing. my bills are probably 40% of my income. and I still go out, take occasional trips, and do most of what I want. i probably don’t save as much as others, but i have an emergency fund and consider my future. it’s tight, I penny pinch and don’t buy everything I want. but, I dont really want many things and am happier paying less for a cheaper apartment.
Just wondering for any of those out there who are broke as a joke like me but making it work. who knows how long it’ll last, but i’m definitely grateful i’m able to make this happen right now!

I just feel like dog water. My self esteem is completely non existent, which isn’t surprising for a teenage girl, but I feel like I’m extra bad. With prom right around the corner I’ve been scrambling to finish an outfit and I decided to wear something more masculine (vest + pants) and I’m getting shit thrown at me from every angle.
My mother repeatedly saying the outfit “isn’t formal” or it’s too boyish.
My friends calling all my attempts at making a different outfit hideous.
Even my BOYFRIEND said he thought the outfit looked bad. He said “on second glance, I can see what (insert friend’s name) means about the new outfit. He’s not the most socially aware but goddamn did it still hurt.
Nobody can just tell me my outfit makes me look beautiful and it’s making me feel like garbage. I realized I’ve never been called beautiful by anybody but my immediate family, not even by my boyfriend. It’s made my already insecure self even more insecure.
I’m just bummed out. I didn’t even want to go to prom in the first place but I bought a ticket because my friends wanted me to, and they’re still criticizing me. I know I don’t take criticism well but I know that’s because I’m deeply insecure and fragile, something I’ve tried my best to work on. This just sucks.

This is a very long one. Trigger warning ⚠️
I (19f) have been in and out of long term/short term facilities since I was 12 years old. I’ve had suicide attempts and have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder. This is definitely not my first experience with a therapist. Over the years I’ve had over 6+. Not because they haven’t worked for me all the time, but because they either move onto another facility or I move onto another phase in life.
Last year I adopted a new therapist “Mere” thanks to my older sister “North”. My current Therapist “Tina” who I’ve been working with for the past 3 and a half years, switched to a facility where my insurance only covers 30 min sessions. North didn’t think that was enough for me at the time since I wasn’t doing so well mentally. The therapist she recommended worked closely with her own and offered 1hr long sessions, so I agreed wanting to try something new since my old therapist seemed to not specialize in trauma and ptsd. Kerr was highly recommended for those topics.
We started our sessions not soon after my sister offered. The first couple months were hard. Our personalities seemed to clash. Not because mine was bad, but because I was deeply depressed. I was not a joy to be around and everyone seemed annoyed with my constant melancholy. Even my therapists seemed sick of me.
Over time I learned to adapt my personality to be more palatable. My therapists loved it now that I was interacting with them and making jokes. I treated them more like friends now instead of therapists and they seemed to appreciate that. I found it funny because a lot of my issues I explained to them was faking my personality to fit into the crowd and adapt. Due to me being f a people pleaser. They didn’t see anything wrong with the change since I seemed to be getting better mentally.
I was better. I wouldn’t attribute much of my success to my therapists tho. It was nice to have someone to talk to since at the time I had no friends, but they didn’t seem to know how to handle my constant depression so I started to hide it from them. Even from myself. Over time I was able to function a lot better. I switched my sessions to only once every two weeks and I was planning on ending them all together since I was doing so well on my own and haven’t need much help in a while.
It seems that I ah e bad luck. Right when I was at my peak recovery and condition, I was raped on the first day of the new year. I spiraled back into my deep deep deep depression worse than any other relapse I had before. I survived on Benadryl and ice cream for weeks. I took the pills so I didn’t have to be awake to long. I ate only food that I liked the most (mainly unhealthily) my health declined.
My mental health was the worst of it tho. The day after the rape occurred I had a session with my newer therapist. I start telling her the details of my assault. The shock was still fresh in my brain and my memories were scrambled. I greatly blamed myself. I thought I was the weirdo.
Mere only confirmed my sentiments. Before I could fully list out the details of the night it happened she immediately started to spew accusations of my intentions that night. Saying phrases like “Well when someone is pleasuring you it’s hard to say no and there’s nothing wrong with that”
I shut up then and just agreed with her but something still didn’t sit right with me. I went on Reddit and there was mixed opinions about it. A lot of ppl validated my feelings and others thought It was my fault. After fully processing this event and fully remembering it in its entirety I can say confidently that what happened to me was rape.
The next session we had I was able to tell the full story. Mede had just said “Oh. Well you didn’t mention all this before. That’s definitely not ok”. The thing is tho, she was the one to cut me off and make assumptions instead of trying to pull out the full story. She knew I had extreme ptsd and I probably wouldn’t be able to give an in-depth detailed explanation of what happened. She still insulted me anyway and brushed me off.
I thought this to be weird but I brushed it off. When you think k you’re in the presence of a professional you don’t often question things especially if you aren’t in the mental space to do so. So ignored her.
There have been times where she’s been short with me. One time she had asked to switch a 12pm session to 5pm. When I refused she said she’d have to charge me a cancellation fee. It seemed that she just wanted to get paid for that session still and wanted to guilt me into paying. I refused and explained that she was the one who cancelled on me and she immediately backed down realizing I wouldn’t be easily pushed around. I didn’t think much of it then.
Another time. I had gone to this tattoo parlor to get my belly button pierced. I took videos and pictures of the process. She requested in our session that week to see the pictures. I agreed to send and emailed them to her in two emails. In one there was all the pictures of the parlor, the. The other had the videos of the full process. Accidentally I had added one singular picture of me. I was at school and I took a picture in the schools bathroom. There was nothing indecent about it I just accidentally pressed on that picture as I was sending the others. IT happened a lot when using your iPhone to email and I didn’t really notice.
She brought it up the next session and started to berate me for sending that singular pic out of all the obvious other intended pictures. She said it’s inappropriate to send her pictures of myself. I explained to her the accident and she seemed shocked. All she said was “oh well ok”. I don’t know why she got so triggered I’ve always kept good boundaries with her. I can’t believe she immediately started accusing me for one picture of me posing in the mirror while having a turtle neck in a jacket and everything.
Those are just a few of the shady things she’s done. Now back to current time. After I was raped. I still continued sessions with her and tried to get back on track. She wasn’t really helping. I would have extreme panic attacks on therapy video calls with her and she seemed at loss of what to do. I distanced myself from her and I started to get a little better, but then I started to have issues with some of my friends. That added onto my load of issues and started to push me to the edge.
I called my therapist the night of my attempt. I try not to call her after hours but I was in genuine crisis. I had spent the whole day being practically verbally abused by one of my friends. I was cracking slowly it surely and I reached out for help.
Otp I expressed to her how I felt betrayed by everyone around me. I asked her why everyone felt it was ok to treat me wrong whenever. Why wasn’t I able to find peace? Why I couldn’t find ppl who cared? My parents are emotionally abusive as well. That all stems into my ppl pleasing habits. I’ve let a lot of ppl take advantage of my nature because I’ve been conditioned to since birth. She knows my history and why I am the way I am. Instead of consoling me she yelled at me. “Well you knew they were bad ppl!” “If you knew they were bad ppl why are you blaming them you just need to stop hanging around bad ppl”. She then told me she had to go and hung up. She did ask me if I was safe but of course I lied. She knows I always try to see the best in ppl. I don’t see the bad till it’s too late most times. Her words stung like acid. I had been prescribed some sedatives to calm me during panic attacks. I had taken two but they weren’t helping. After that call I took the whole bottle. I didn’t want to die alone so I called my mother to stay in my room with me. Then I drifted into a deep sleep for hours into the next day’s afternoon. I had fallen asleep around 10 pm. I woke up the next day around 3pm still kicking but disordered.
I spent two weeks in a mental hospital. During that time I do t have access to my phone. I had my sister contact everyone that needed to be. Even Mere. She knew I was in there. I didn’t call her while I was there bc I was still upset at her after everything.
I was discharged but I didn’t set up a session for weeks. She emailed and called me once but I didn’t respond till I was fully settled back into my routine and okay enough to talk to her. I emailed her this
“Hallo, Sorry. I didn’t mean to ghost you. I just needed some time to get myself together. I called you just now. You are probably busy. I hope everything is doing well on your end. Sorry again. Sent from my iPhone”
I had planned to set up an appointment in the future to talk to her about everything but by the time I checked my patient portal a week or so later I had been discharged with no warning. No calm text or email.
I set up a meeting with her over the phone for 45 mins. When she first came onto the call the first thing she said was “I saw that you put our appointment for 45 mins. I changed it to 30 bc you know I did discharge you”. I thought it was pretty rude so instead of explaining everything I told her about how I didn’t have my phone in the hospital and the hospital themselves didn’t notify her because they were disorganized and were extremely unprofessional. It’s not like she wasn’t updated by my sisters anyway. When I got my phone after I got home I saw texts from her asking if I was still having a session with her. Knowing that I was in the hospital. It seemed she either didn’t care or didn’t believe I was in the hospital. In fact when she had spoken over the phone with one of my sisters she had lied to them about that night. She had told her “After I got otp with her I immediately started praying for her because I m ew something was deeply wrong” how delusional of her to say after she yelled at me and hung up.
Anyway after I explained my reasoning for going MIA she started to realize how fucked up she was and asked me how I was doing. I didn’t say much because I was done with her and she obviously didn’t intend of hearing the full story since she shortened our session. She started asking me why I didn’t want to continue therapy and seemed confused why I didn’t seem to beg her to re admit me. I told her I was done with therapy. She seemed concerned and said that she discharged me because she thought it’d be better for me to find an in person therapist. I knew it was a shitty excuse. I quickly hang up on her and don’t address anything.
I’m only processing this now because I’ve had much bigger things going on. I’m only now realizing how fucked up her behavior was. If I hadn’t spoken to her the night of my attempt I probably wouldn’t have tried to kill myself. I feel cheated out of help. I don’t feel angry at her I have to reserve that for someone more worthy of my rage. I only wished she didn’t use the fact that I would never call her out on her behavior usually. She knew my temperament and took advantage of that. I don’t think I’ll ever trust a therapist again. She victim blamed me, mocked me, berated me in my time of need, and then abandoned me on baseless assumptions that could’ve been easily cleared up if she actually listened to what my sisters and I were saying. She didn’t even say sorry when we were talking. Or express any remorse besides embarrassment for jumping to conclusions. SMH.
TLDR: My therapist berated me for trusting ppl in my life the night of my suicide attempt. Then Discharged me from her care without consulting me first. Blamed me for all her mistakes and jumped to conclusions randomly then never apologized for the baseless accusations. I am at a loss for words and at a loss for trust in therapy again.

This is a very long one.
I (19f) have been in and out of long term/short term facilities since I was 12 years old. I’ve had suicide attempts and have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder. This is definitely not my first experience with a therapist. Over the years I’ve had over 6+. Not because they haven’t worked for me all the time, but because they either move onto another facility or I move onto another phase in life.
Last year I adopted a new therapist “Mere” thanks to my older sister “North”. My current Therapist “Tina” who I’ve been working with for the past 3 and a half years, switched to a facility where my insurance only covers 30 min sessions. North didn’t think that was enough for me at the time since I wasn’t doing so well mentally. The therapist she recommended worked closely with her own and offered 1hr long sessions, so I agreed wanting to try something new since my old therapist seemed to not specialize in trauma and ptsd. Kerr was highly recommended for those topics.
We started our sessions not soon after my sister offered. The first couple months were hard. Our personalities seemed to clash. Not because mine was bad, but because I was deeply depressed. I was not a joy to be around and everyone seemed annoyed with my constant melancholy. Even my therapists seemed sick of me.
Over time I learned to adapt my personality to be more palatable. My therapists loved it now that I was interacting with them and making jokes. I treated them more like friends now instead of therapists and they seemed to appreciate that. I found it funny because a lot of my issues I explained to them was faking my personality to fit into the crowd and adapt. Due to me being f a people pleaser. They didn’t see anything wrong with the change since I seemed to be getting better mentally.
I was better. I wouldn’t attribute much of my success to my therapists tho. It was nice to have someone to talk to since at the time I had no friends, but they didn’t seem to know how to handle my constant depression so I started to hide it from them. Even from myself. Over time I was able to function a lot better. I switched my sessions to only once every two weeks and I was planning on ending them all together since I was doing so well on my own and haven’t need much help in a while.
It seems that I ah e bad luck. Right when I was at my peak recovery and condition, I was raped on the first day of the new year. I spiraled back into my deep deep deep depression worse than any other relapse I had before. I survived on Benadryl and ice cream for weeks. I took the pills so I didn’t have to be awake to long. I ate only food that I liked the most (mainly unhealthily) my health declined.
My mental health was the worst of it tho. The day after the rape occurred I had a session with my newer therapist. I start telling her the details of my assault. The shock was still fresh in my brain and my memories were scrambled. I greatly blamed myself. I thought I was the weirdo.
Mere only confirmed my sentiments. Before I could fully list out the details of the night it happened she immediately started to spew accusations of my intentions that night. Saying phrases like “Well when someone is pleasuring you it’s hard to say no and there’s nothing wrong with that”
I shut up then and just agreed with her but something still didn’t sit right with me. I went on Reddit and there was mixed opinions about it. A lot of ppl validated my feelings and others thought It was my fault. After fully processing this event and fully remembering it in its entirety I can say confidently that what happened to me was rape.
The next session we had I was able to tell the full story. Mede had just said “Oh. Well you didn’t mention all this before. That’s definitely not ok”. The thing is tho, she was the one to cut me off and make assumptions instead of trying to pull out the full story. She knew I had extreme ptsd and I probably wouldn’t be able to give an in-depth detailed explanation of what happened. She still insulted me anyway and brushed me off.
I thought this to be weird but I brushed it off. When you think k you’re in the presence of a professional you don’t often question things especially if you aren’t in the mental space to do so. So ignored her.
There have been times where she’s been short with me. One time she had asked to switch a 12pm session to 5pm. When I refused she said she’d have to charge me a cancellation fee. It seemed that she just wanted to get paid for that session still and wanted to guilt me into paying. I refused and explained that she was the one who cancelled on me and she immediately backed down realizing I wouldn’t be easily pushed around. I didn’t think much of it then.
Another time. I had gone to this tattoo parlor to get my belly button pierced. I took videos and pictures of the process. She requested in our session that week to see the pictures. I agreed to send and emailed them to her in two emails. In one there was all the pictures of the parlor, the. The other had the videos of the full process. Accidentally I had added one singular picture of me. I was at school and I took a picture in the schools bathroom. There was nothing indecent about it I just accidentally pressed on that picture as I was sending the others. IT happened a lot when using your iPhone to email and I didn’t really notice.
She brought it up the next session and started to berate me for sending that singular pic out of all the obvious other intended pictures. She said it’s inappropriate to send her pictures of myself. I explained to her the accident and she seemed shocked. All she said was “oh well ok”. I don’t know why she got so triggered I’ve always kept good boundaries with her. I can’t believe she immediately started accusing me for one picture of me posing in the mirror while having a turtle neck in a jacket and everything.
Those are just a few of the shady things she’s done. Now back to current time. After I was raped. I still continued sessions with her and tried to get back on track. She wasn’t really helping. I would have extreme panic attacks on therapy video calls with her and she seemed at loss of what to do. I distanced myself from her and I started to get a little better, but then I started to have issues with some of my friends. That added onto my load of issues and started to push me to the edge.
I called my therapist the night of my attempt. I try not to call her after hours but I was in genuine crisis. I had spent the whole day being practically verbally abused by one of my friends. I was cracking slowly it surely and I reached out for help.
Otp I expressed to her how I felt betrayed by everyone around me. I asked her why everyone felt it was ok to treat me wrong whenever. Why wasn’t I able to find peace? Why I couldn’t find ppl who cared? My parents are emotionally abusive as well. That all stems into my ppl pleasing habits. I’ve let a lot of ppl take advantage of my nature because I’ve been conditioned to since birth. She knows my history and why I am the way I am. Instead of consoling me she yelled at me. “Well you knew they were bad ppl!” “If you knew they were bad ppl why are you blaming them you just need to stop hanging around bad ppl”. She then told me she had to go and hung up. She did ask me if I was safe but of course I lied. She knows I always try to see the best in ppl. I don’t see the bad till it’s too late most times. Her words stung like acid. I had been prescribed some sedatives to calm me during panic attacks. I had taken two but they weren’t helping. After that call I took the whole bottle. I didn’t want to die alone so I called my mother to stay in my room with me. Then I drifted into a deep sleep for hours into the next day’s afternoon. I had fallen asleep around 10 pm. I woke up the next day around 3pm still kicking but disordered.
I spent two weeks in a mental hospital. During that time I do t have access to my phone. I had my sister contact everyone that needed to be. Even Mere. She knew I was in there. I didn’t call her while I was there bc I was still upset at her after everything.
I was discharged but I didn’t set up a session for weeks. She emailed and called me once but I didn’t respond till I was fully settled back into my routine and okay enough to talk to her. I emailed her this
“Hallo, Sorry. I didn’t mean to ghost you. I just needed some time to get myself together. I called you just now. You are probably busy. I hope everything is doing well on your end. Sorry again. Sent from my iPhone”
I had planned to set up an appointment in the future to talk to her about everything but by the time I checked my patient portal a week or so later I had been discharged with no warning. No calm text or email.
I set up a meeting with her over the phone for 45 mins. When she first came onto the call the first thing she said was “I saw that you put our appointment for 45 mins. I changed it to 30 bc you know I did discharge you”. I thought it was pretty rude so instead of explaining everything I told her about how I didn’t have my phone in the hospital and the hospital themselves didn’t notify her because they were disorganized and were extremely unprofessional. It’s not like she wasn’t updated by my sisters anyway. When I got my phone after I got home I saw texts from her asking if I was still having a session with her. Knowing that I was in the hospital. It seemed she either didn’t care or didn’t believe I was in the hospital. In fact when she had spoken over the phone with one of my sisters she had lied to them about that night. She had told her “After I got otp with her I immediately started praying for her because I m ew something was deeply wrong” how delusional of her to say after she yelled at me and hung up.
Anyway after I explained my reasoning for going MIA she started to realize how fucked up she was and asked me how I was doing. I didn’t say much because I was done with her and she obviously didn’t intend of hearing the full story since she shortened our session. She started asking me why I didn’t want to continue therapy and seemed confused why I didn’t seem to beg her to re admit me. I told her I was done with therapy. She seemed concerned and said that she discharged me because she thought it’d be better for me to find an in person therapist. I knew it was a shitty excuse. I quickly hang up on her and don’t address anything.
I’m only processing this now because I’ve had much bigger things going on. I’m only now realizing how fucked up her behavior was. If I hadn’t spoken to her the night of my attempt I probably wouldn’t have tried to kill myself. I feel cheated out of help. I don’t feel angry at her I have to reserve that for someone more worthy of my rage. I only wished she didn’t use the fact that I would never call her out on her behavior usually. She knew my temperament and took advantage of that. I don’t think I’ll ever trust a therapist again. She victim blamed me, mocked me, berated me in my time of need, and then abandoned me on baseless assumptions that could’ve been easily cleared up if she actually listened to what my sisters and I were saying. She didn’t even say sorry when we were talking. Or express any remorse besides embarrassment for jumping to conclusions. SMH.
TLDR: My therapist berated me for trusting ppl in my life the night of my suicide attempt. Then Discharged me from her care without consulting me first. Blamed me for all her mistakes and jumped to conclusions randomly then never apologized for the baseless accusations. I am at a loss for words and at a loss for trust in therapy again.

I'm currently 15f and I cant stand myself. It's hard to look in the mirror. I hard to smile and act like I don't care. I'm not pretty, I'm not skinny like my sister. I don't have a face card. I don't have ass or it's. I'm ugly. Plain ugly. It doesn't help I'm lesbian either.
Everyday my brother ir sister say something to me. Some fatphobic joke ,some remark that ruins my day. Yeah I get it I'm ugly.
"Even if u go for the same team u have no pull" "Nobody wants u cause look In the mirror."
These statements hurt. I cant be near someone without thinking they are judging me. Even my friends.
My freinds make jokes too about how I'm overweight. I tell them to stop and they don't. But I font want to lose my freind group. I don't want to be alone.
I'm pretty sure I at least have depression. No one knows though. I'm always smiling through the pain. It's hard. You can't be fat and salty right? I want to lose wight I really do.
The moment I try I Lose all motivation. I just lay in bed all day reading. I feel empty. I'm exhausted. I'm not suicidedal though I've nvr thought let alone don't it. I don't what I'm looking for but this is just me venting Ig.
Honestly I really wish I could truly tell it better.

I've been looking at the DR-6 Right Angle eyepiece and boy, the prices are all over the map; from $90 CAD used (missing rubber eyecup) to $345 CAD new on amazon! Can anyone recommend a good third-party right-angle eyepiece?