this is my first reddit post ever so sorry if i’m doing this wrong. i only use this app to find people with similar problems, anyway.
i’m a 19 (almost 20) y/o F, i weigh 106 and im 5’1.
i like to start off by saying i have anxiety (mainly health anxiety) and tachycardia (due to anxiety probably) so this could just be a misunderstanding.
but as of now i feel bloated, like a balloon. i feel like i need to burp but i cant. i feel like i cant take a full proper breath. my middle/upper back hurts, (my spine is slightly curved to the right so maybe thats why, but i think thats lower) under my left breast feels uncomfortable and my left arm near my armpit feels odd (basically lots of slight pressure) i have a weird sensation in my left arm and hand, kind of like a numbness but not at the same time. the left side of my face (cheek/jaw and ear area) feels weird and my throat feels like there’s a lot of mucus clogging it. everytime i lay down after awhile i feel like i get out of breath and my heart spikes up. i have a cheap heart watch on but it said it went up to about 113, (i constantly check my heart rate and blood oxygen.) as of now its in the mid 80s, but its going up still. anyway, i’ve been feeling very imbalanced lately, like the floor is moving, not standing on solid d ground. i’ve been feeling dizzy and very fake, like derealization. and it’s super scary considering i feel like i’m not in my head / body most of the time. maybe this is because my iron is mildly low (55) and i’ve been staying up until 7am and waking up at 4pm and haven’t been eating right, constantly have stomach pain. but in my mind all this stress, bad sleeping habits and and eating habits could lead to a heart attack. my episodes usually start at night when i want to go to sleep. it’s scary. i always have a feeling that once i fall asleep i wont wake up which keeps me up at night. i usually fall asleep once my boyfriend wakes up because i like the feeling of being monitored i guess, its comforting to know that someone is there just in case.
but are these signs of a possible cardiac arrest or heart attack or is it just anxiety ? i’m trying to avoid going to the ER since i went 11 times JUST in may and had multiple CT scans and x-rays done and everything seems to be fine (except my $2k hospital bill) my mom always told me growing up that stress can kill you and that information stresses me out more every time i’m stressed and lately i’ve been constantly stressed.

I recently (last week) got a case of what I think was sinusitis (self diagnosed) for the first time. I still am experiencing swelling in my right sinus.
I am concerned about a small bump that I can feel near my right cheekbone, towards my nose. I’m unsure what it is, but it seems like it could be near or within the area of my right maxillary sinus.
Is this possibly a nasal polyp that I should be concerned about??
I know I should probably go see a specialist, but since it is a Friday I would be grateful for any advice on the issue, as many testimonies online suggest urgent care or walk-in clinics might not be specialized enough to provide the correct diagnosis.
I’ll include more detailed account of my experience below, if it helps.
—————
My symptoms started with intense and sudden tooth pain, bad enough that I was unable to sleep. At first I thought the issue might be tooth related, but the pain was not specific to any tooth, which led me to believe my sinuses were the issue. I ended up taking 200mg Advil to try to get some sleep, but it was not sufficient for the pain, and I could only sleep for about 2 hours max before waking up with heavy congestion and pain.
The sinus pressure built up over the day, and I used a nasal rinse in hopes of relieving symptoms naturally. I ended up buying some Sudafed over the counter to relieve the congestion. This was very effective, however it did give me an intense headache and since it is a stimulant, would not be an option to help me sleep. I ended up only taking Sudafed this once. Again, I needed an Advil to sleep.
The next day, I felt extremely weak, along with some discoloration of mucus I was spitting out, I assumed it was my body fighting the infection.
I started a routine of sinus rinse into hot shower / steaming my face over hot water for 10 minutes twice a day, some apple cider vinegar and ginger tea in the morning to reduce inflammation, and Advil to sleep and give my body some rest to help recover and have seen an improvement in my pain.
However, I still have jaw tightness in my right side, as well as pressure under my right eye. I can also feel the swollen sinus while not on Advil, which seems to help with the inflammation.
I have also become somewhat dependent on Advil to function, as the pain is enough to prevent me from doing anything productive. I take one during the day to work, and one at night to sleep.
This has been on going for the last week, and I thought I might be on the road to recovery, but I noticed a small bump near my cheek, close to where my sinus would be.
I’m concerned this could be a nasal polyp, which apparently does not go away by itself. Doing some research on the topic, some online articles mention that I should avoid NSAIDs like Advil if I do have nasal polyps.
As I am essentially dependent on Advil to function, I’m becoming very concerned about this bump. I am also between jobs atm, and do not have health insurance.
My situation is generating a great deal of stress for me, which can’t be beneficial to my recovery…
If anyone has a similar experience or any advice to offer, it would be very much appreciated.

i feel extremely unwell right now, and i’m worried that it could be sepsis or something. long post, sorry!!
background: 17F, 5’5”, 105 lbs, caucasian; ongoing bowel issues (alternating constipation and diarrhea), difficulty starting pee stream, and extreme abdominal tenderness and pain throughout for the past 5 months.
i’ve been having some mucus buildup for the past 5 or so days, and i just assumed it was allergies or a cold because i didn’t feel super bad. however, last night at around 8:30 i suddenly felt awful and started to feel these symptoms: - it started with a feeling of pressure in head, especially in jaw, teeth, and ears - mucus build up in throat to the point where i couldnt talk and could only breathe through my nose - body aches, especially in the lower back - painful coughing and swallowing - lymph nodes in neck and next to ear swollen - pulse pounding throughout whole body - sweating and flushed face - nausea, can’t eat much
i decided to take some benedryl and sleep it off, today i can breathe better and feel less congested, but my body aches are much worse and it’s hard to move. i also feel extremely disoriented. this afternoon i took my temperature; at my wrist it was 91.4 and at my forehead it was 96.5, so no fever but i felt extremely cold in my hands and feet. most recently though, my wrist was 96.4 and my forehead was 99.7 on two different thermometers. my heart rate currently is 114 lying down but was at 137 earlier this afternoon. also, i had a negative covid antigen test result.
i had a urinalysis a month ago bc i mentioned having trouble starting to pee and it came back with lots of leukocytes, turbid color, and group b strep growth, but it wasn’t mentioned by my doctor since there weren’t any nitrates. i definitely had uti symptoms at the time (and still do, but its less painful when i pee), so i’m worried that sepsis could be a possibility. i did one of those home uti strip tests today (and made sure i did it clean-catch) and it came back with moderate leukocytes and no nitrates.
i don’t want to go to the doctor because i have graduation and work tomorrow and i would really like to be there, and i don’t want to make like a fuss about it and have it turn out to be like a cold or something. should i be concerned about sepsis or is it probably nothing? any advice would be much appreciated!!!

So, I’m perfectly aware of the individual practice rooms for the College of Music, but I seem to have a problem with the lack of good ventilation.
I need to practice my singing, but with the practice rooms being so…stuffy, it causes a mucus buildup in my throat and that makes it difficult for my singing practice.
I don’t suppose there are better ventilated areas where I can practice my singing?
Or…I mainly go to the rooms on the top floor in the Kuersteiner building. I can’t remember the last time I went to the bottom floor in the Housewright building. Are those rooms better ventilated?
Just send me your thoughts, please and thank you.

He suddenly came towards me in the dirty tunnel that leads to the subway, up the stairs from the mall, dressed in Adidas pants and a puffy duvet jacket. His breath steamed in the cold. A woman stumbled next to him, in broken high heels. They looked like they were in a hurry, to get away from someone or something. Destroyed faces, but not because of age or starvation, they looked young and healthy.
He should’ve been at least twenty years older now, I told myself it couldn’t be him and looked away without knowing if the man had seen me or not.
His face, as I remember it, spoke of his past addictions. No traces of serious violence, but at the same time deformed as after a fight. The proportions seemed wrong. Symmetrical, but swollen. I saw the tattoo on his neck, on the left side facing me, the outline of an animal head. Kåres' tattoo was red, this man's tattoo shimmered in purple. It could’ve been a bruise. A milky haze surrounded them, except for the man’s white sneakers that shined sharp against the gray concrete. It looked like they were living on that thin line between partying and homelessness. I was sure he was dead.
When they’d passed by, a sour smell of adrenaline hovered in the air. I stood there, in my own thoughts, long after I’d missed my train, looking down at my blurry hands, as a whole inner world of sadness and trauma started to open. I wanted to think that I had buried what happened that summer somewhere deep, deep down, where it had been crushed by the weights of new, better memories. But the man with the tattoo dug it all up again. I looked at my own hands and felt I was going into dissociation. Right there and then, I promised myself to write about it.
I met Kåre in the late summer, my first summer without Dad. I lived alone in our apartment on the Red Line towards Norsborg. When I think back to that summer, I see the broken living room clock before me. It stopped working long before when Dad was still alive, but it reminded me that something had stopped in me too.
Summer was happening somewhere out there, slipped in through the cracks in my closed blinds, it felt like time was rushing by without ever touching me. I went out sometimes, sure. To the mall with some friends, to the park or the empty schoolyard. We climbed up the fire escape ladder and carved swear words into the brick wall.
One day in the beginning of August we drove down south, me, Eli and Sindra. I remember how we cranked down the windows and it was claustrophobically hot. Eli put on a playlist called Happy Hardcore. Songs with frequencies as high as the summer sky.
I leaned out the window. Pine trees, red cottages, and wheat fields smeared together by the speed. When I saw the landscape dance past me I remembered Dad’s crosses. He took me out in the woods. Pointed out pits, hills and ditches and said they were graves, fireplaces and traps. Dead shapes, waiting for the right time to wake up.
Dad was a janitor, but he dreamt of becoming an archeologist. He leant scientific books and read them to me like bedtime stories, instructions about how pendulums and squares can be used as instruments to find ancient monuments.
He believed in Earth radiation; the theory that lines make out a checkered pattern around Earth. The past generations knew a lot of things about this radiation. Old amphitheaters and cairns are strategically placed around ethereal force fields. Where the lines cross each other in X:es, a swirling energy arises, whose original purpose was lost a long time ago. Sometimes, when we were out in the woods and came to a particular glade or grove, he’d lift me up and put me down in the middle of one of those crosses. I stood completely still, barely breathing while he measured with a pendulum to see if Earth’s radiation made my aura bigger or smaller. Dad was so proud of my aura.
We stopped at a pizza place. Eli and Sindra had to go get gas, so I went in by myself. When I stood in line for the bathroom, that’s when I saw the horse head. It looked down at me from the wall, with bulging eyes made out of glass. I wondered why they used it as decoration. It looked bizarre and sinister, in every way unbearable.
When the bathroom was available I quickly ran inside and locked the door. I leaned against it, and tried to focus on my breathing, like Dad had taught me. Where the mirror should’ve been, someone had written "horror vacui” with a black marker. ”Fear of the void”.
I washed my wrists with cold water. The water took the uneasy feeling with it in a swirl down the drain. When I felt better I went out to Eli and Sindra, who were already in the car.
We drove on. The evening came. One of those blue, late summer evenings when the light deepens and the air cools down. The road narrowed down. I got nauseous, it felt like we were moving inwards, in a curve. We parked on the road and I looked up at the stars. I pointed out little bear, but they didn’t care. They were trying to locate the music in the woods.
I didn’t really feel like they wanted me there, so I kept my distance. After a while the ground thinned out into sand and the smell of pine trees mixed with sea salt. I saw lights glimmer where the trees opened up to the ocean. Some people were dancing, others were just squeezing through. Eli and Sindra stood further down the beach, next to a fire. They tried to be cool but they looked so tense. I remember how obvious it looked, how they were flickering just like the flames. I turned around and walked into the woods again.
I found a hill that looked good to sit at, and that’s where I met him. Kåre.
I remember the hill was covered in strangely shimmering moss. When I turned around he looked at me with small pupils through the haze. The tattoo on his neck, some kind of animal head, so red I thought it was a wound at first. It looked like a children’s drawing, or back in the day when they used to stuff animals without knowing what they looked like, so they just made something up. I pushed away the memory of the horse head in the restaurant, and instead, I thought about that embroidery, the one in Dad’s office. I was scared of it as a child, I never wanted to go in that room alone. I wondered what had happened to it, did I still have it? Grandma made it for him, isn’t that what he said? I looked at the tattoo again and shivered, it had the same, bulging eyes.
Kåre smiled at me, and I looked down at the hill, speckled with moss. It grew in spirals, I’d never noticed that before, that moss curves, turn after turn, like a swirling paisley pattern. Kåre put something in my hand. It was a green pill, and one side was pressed with a symbol, looking almost like a human gut.
“That’s a trojaborg”, I said surprised. “The symbol, it’s a labyrinth. They actually exist, near the coast, by mountains and the ocean, like here.” I looked up at him.
I used to worry about my high-pitched voice, it sounded like I was always trying to get attention, but now I just sounded rough, like someone else was speaking through me. “Some people think it’s a Christian thing”, I said, “because they think that they put the stones in the middle down first like a cross and then built the paths after that. But it’s not a cross, it’s just an intersection with two lines. The cult surrounding labyrinths is way older than Christianity. We had labyrinths in Scandinavia before, long, long before, when the ocean was like a highway up here…”
Kåre lit two cigarettes and gave me one. I smoked with him and started to feel euphoric. It felt so good to speak without restrictions, to put together things I must’ve heard once, like Dad always did.
“There are labyrinths in marble floors and on wooden doors of old houses. The symbol became a Christian thing, but it was used in old rituals long before that. Sometimes they call it the ‘virgin dance’, and that sounds like a ritual to me. They sacrificed things, too. Think of it as, like, a dance.” I did a little swirl. “Some people think the word trojaborg comes from the word ‘troj’, which means twisting. Rotation. Spinning something around and around and around…”
Kåre dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, leaned down and looked at something metallic. He had a thin mustache that didn’t match his boy-like body. I didn’t know if he was listening, but I kept talking. “Labyrinths exist in every culture, or at least stories about them”, I continued, “they’re a symbol for the uterus and death at the same time, a spiral towards the ethereal.”
I didn’t feel any shame, I just wanted to keep talking.
“Some trojaborg’s are built at places named after bears. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but bears symbolize resurrection ‘cause they sleep all winter but wake up again in the spring. The Saamis bury dead bears sometimes. The farmers pushed collectors and hunters away but they never stopped sacrificing, they came back. They always do.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the stone. The woods were full of sounds, music and someone's high-pitched voice. When I opened my eyes I saw a red Bengal light down by the water. I looked at it for a while, before continuing.
“People are superstitious to this day. When fishermen were going out to sea and didn’t want any bad luck, they ran through the trojaborg before they left. When they’d reached the middle they ran straight out, without following the paths. They thought the bad luck would get stuck in there. Absorbed by the force.”
Kåre stroked my arm with his fingertips. I breathed out, felt a tingling warmth in my chest, and I didn’t say anything else for a while.
“What did you say about horse cemeteries?” he asked when the sun was starting to rise, and I saw that what was lying on the ground was small pieces of aluminum foil.
“You mean bear cemeteries?” He nodded.
“They are often found near the trojanborg’s, some think they were built with stones from old ruins. Graves from people that lived by the shore and hunted seals and whales. Those who came here first, and hunted in the moonshine.” I looked up at the stars that were starting to fade.
“The labyrinth was a manifestation of the sun cult and later Christianity, a definitive way to shut them out. But I don’t think…”
“What do you think, then?” He smiled. I didn’t know what to say. I remembered what Dad said. About certain places that generate darkness. Places that make things move around them, wander in cycles. He always told me to watch out for the intersections, the crosses. We’re drawn to them, attracted by the invisible forces, but we have to watch out.
“If you’ve made sacrifices at the same place for over a thousand years, I don’t think you’ll leave it in the first place. It takes a lot... ”
I tried to look Kåre in the eyes, but he was busy picking up foil from the moss-covered rocks and putting it in a zip bag.
“I don’t believe in coincidences”, I said, “maybe there was something, like something in the ground that made people seek those places out... And seek them out over and over again.”
We stood up and walked down the hill, side by side, into the haze of people dancing and screaming.
The sound of laughter, an exaggerated, broken laughter, woke me up. I was lying in the backseat with my throbbing head in Kåre’s lap. He tried to speak over the music, almost screaming, I remember hearing him say something about how he couldn’t stand up straight anymore. Because it was so strong now, so fucking strong.
I couldn’t see Eli or Sindra, the guys sitting in the front seat were complete strangers to me.
The broken laughter-guy interrupted Kåre. “Hahaha! You fucking freak! You fucking hippie!”
The other one, the one driving, asked for coordinates. Kåre answered: “That place has no price. You just gotta have something she wants. You have to deliver.”
“Deliver what? What does it cost?” the other one asked skeptically.
Kåre sighed. “Do you know what ‘the left-hand path’ is?”
A silence, before that repulsive, broken laughter exploded again. “Hahaha! You fucking weirdo! You fucking psycho!”
“Didn’t think you’d know anyways”, Kåre said.
The car stopped at a road barrier and we got out, squinting in the bright sunshine. I’d never met them before, and they both looked much older than me, a few years older than Kåre. We climbed over the barrier and started walking down a path. It seemed to lead us nowhere, until the woods opened up and revealed a red little house. Kåre went around the house to the front door and pulled out a key.
Broken laughter-guy said: “But like, I don’t believe in that kind of stuff! The fucking hocus pocus shit!”
I stepped onto the porch and found myself just standing there, looking at an old dartboard. It reminded me of something. It was speckled with marks from the arrows but also some darker spots, so scuffed you couldn’t make out the lines between the different scores.
My thoughts were interrupted by sounds coming from the other side of the house. It sounded like something falling and breaking, like the deafening sound of iron pipes rolling down concrete stairs and Kåre screamed: “For fucks sake!”
I looked down at the cracks in the wooden deck and fell into a melancholic state. Thoughts of summer evenings here with people that have been dead for many years, or maybe are sitting alone at a retirement home somewhere with nothing but memories left. Fantasies blending in with my own summer memories, and stories my Dad used to tell me. Summers with his Mom, things that might’ve been just dreams, or someone else’s memory, I don’t know whose.
A chair with broken legs was standing in front of the house. I poked at it with my foot, it wobbled a bit, and in a swaying, slowdown of time, I remembered. I was completely sure. I’d been here before.
Kåre had finally managed to open the door. He smiled at me from inside the house, through the window. It was dark in there, but I could see stacks of books and piles of electronic devices, TV:s and stereos. Leaning against the walls and exploding out of the drawers.
Kåre gave something in a Coop bag to the broken laughter-guy and they shared a squarelike hug. I observed them through the window. I could see their lips moving, but I had no idea what they were saying to each other. They looked over at me with a big grin, before they disappeared out of my vision and I could hear the front door opening, and eventually, the car driving off.
I followed Kåre into the woods, down towards the sea. We took our shoes off and ran barefoot through the sand. The sea was quite big, surrounded by compact trees reflecting in the black, shining water. We waded towards a cliff. This was the ocean two thousand years ago, I thought to myself as I climbed the big stone. We took our shirts off and layed down, close to each other.
“It’s really weird”, I said after a while, “I feel like I’ve been here before. On this cliff, and in the house too. I feel like that sometimes, like I should remember something, but I just can’t.” The sunlight was blinding me, I squinted at him. “I was brought up in a way that make you different.”
“Make you different”, he mimicked, but I ignored him.
“It was just me and my Dad, we didn’t have anything else. He never told me anything about his own childhood. He blamed it on his bad memory, but I never believed him. Maybe you inherit it, the pushing things away, the suppression.” I leaned back on the warm stone. “I’ve always felt rootless.”
“Me too”, Kåre mumbled.
“How did you find this place, do you know people here or something?” I tried to seem unbothered, didn't want to dig up something dark in him.
“I leant it from an old lady, she lives in the woods now.”
The heat from the sun beamed at my spine, but I still shivered. He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a Coca-Cola. I drank so fast I choked, but it didn’t taste of anything at all, just a hint of rust.
“There’s something in the woods I think you’d like to see”, he whispered and stroked my hair.
We stuffed his backpack full of beer and cigarettes. I borrowed a fleece jacket that smelled of gasoline. Kåre had a coat with dark stains all over the chest. When he leaned against the wall and rolled a spliff, as I kneeled in his shadow to tie my shoes, we looked like a bad sign, an omen, two outgrowns on the same darkness. I remember feeling like we were directed towards a swirling hatred.
Kåre kicked rocks as we walked down the road. The sun was still shining bright, coloring the clouds. We reached a field surrounded by small, timbered cottages. It seemed abandoned and forgotten, but as if something was kept awake there.
Kåre and I were the only things visible in the dark windows. I asked him about the old lady he leant the house from. Who was she?
He kicked away a big stone. “Do you really want to know?” he asked.
I thought about it for a while, not really knowing why I wanted to know, or even what I was doing here with Kåre in the first place. But there was something about him, something about the way he distracted me from everything else.
“I usually don’t experience this”, I mumbled, “I usually remember, but when you were in the house and I waited for you on the porch, I just knew I’d been there before. Maybe I’ll remember more if you tell me about her?”
“Sure”, he said, “if you want to remember. She used to slaughter the small animals on the porch. That says a lot about her, I guess. She found it practical. I helped her clean it up afterwards…”
“Wait, what do you mean, slaughter the small animals on the porch? What does that mean?” I tried to look him in the eyes, but he looked away.
“She’d slaughter the big ones by the sea.” The way he said it made it sound neutral, like he couldn’t care less about the animals.
We walked into the woods again, towards the mountains. The dried moss crunched under our feet. It became softer at places, and the ground gave away. Rocks, pine trees and moss repeated themselves in a landscape without landmarks.
When I slipped and fell I found myself just lying on the ground for a while. The woods were still now, and the only thing I heard was a faint rumble from far away, maybe it was the highway that sounded just as lonely as the sea. I closed my eyes, the tiredness made me feel soft. When I tried to stand up again the world flickered before my eyes and I had to lean against a tree.
In my memories, that’s when I heard the scream. It sounded like an animal, or any creature dying a painful death. It made me completely lose my perception of reality. I couldn’t breathe, like after getting punched hard in the stomach and I had to sit down again. When I tried to locate where the sound came from, it disappeared.
I stood up and felt the weight of something hard and cold in my hand, a stone. I must’ve picked it up from the ground, but I couldn’t remember doing so. Shaken by adrenaline, I started running in the direction I saw Kåre disappear in. I caught up with him. He stopped and stood with his back turned towards me.
“Did you hear that?” I looked into the woods. “It sounded like an animal”, I continued. “A big animal… It sounded sick, so fucking sick. You heard it, right?”
I pulled my hand through my hair and crushed a bug that I smeared on my jacket, disgusted by the texture. He didn’t answer. He looked at something, something I couldn’t see. The realization that I was in the middle of nowhere with a crazy stranger suddenly struck me.
“We have to go back. It’s getting dark.” I tried to raise my voice but I sounded like a pathetic little girl.
He didn’t answer, instead, he kneeled down, leaning forward, his hands intertwined behind his neck, rocking back and forth. His ears looked so small. It looked like he was crying, something shiny over his cheeks.
I lightly put my hand on his shoulder and stroked down his arm. He grabbed my wrist, as fast as lightning. I screamed and tried to break free, but tripped and fell backward.
That made him relax. He leaned over me in the dark woods like he was about to say something, but I’ll never know what it was. I struck the stone as hard as I could and hit his temple, a dull sound echoed through the woods. He stumbled back with his hands around his head, and I stood up and started to run.
It felt easy, even though I was running uphill, every step felt irresistible like something was pulling me forward. Soft shadows grew out of the gaps in the rocks, trees and stone blended together. I remember seeing a pine tree that stood bent with its crown growing down towards the earth instead of up towards the sky. A tree that grows like that speaks of something so wrong, something so sick, and twisted out of itself. And I can't say why I continued running in that direction.
I kept on running up until the ground hardened and the woods thinned out. Some light birch trees circled a glade next to an uphill mountain. It was like stepping into a room, separated from the hungry rocks and dark pine trees. The ground was covered with small, yellow flowers, almost shining in the dark.
I started regaining feeling in my legs again. I breathed in hoarse gasps and my eyes flickered in every direction. The direction felt crucial, but at the same time it felt like the choice wasn’t mine, there was something else, something beyond.
I started climbing, in a desperate neither one of them, straight up the cliff. I climbed in small jumps and bent tree roots. The higher I climbed, the more targeted I felt. I tasted blood in my mouth. On the inside of my eyelids I could see Kåre standing down in the glade, picking up stones and throwing them at me. I imagined him grabbing my foot to try and pull me down, tearing at me like an animal. It was only when I’d reached the top of the mountain that I dared to turn around.
Space howered deep blue over the trees. The glade was empty, but down there I thought I could see the shining flowers like small, yellow eyes staring up at me where I stood, swaying on the edge.
I turned around. A cold, bare mountain plateau opened up in front of me. My gaze was immediately drawn to an uneven circle further ahead. It took a while for my eyes to adjust and it started taking form, swirl after swirl, curling like a snake. The trojaborg.
Dad would’ve thought it was magnificent, with stones as big as human heads in the cross towards the center. In the dark, the proportions felt bigger and the paths cleaner than in the ones he’d shown me as a kid. Shadows fell over the entrance. I squinted, it looked like something was laying there.
A rush of dark euphoria made my eyes water and my mouth stretch out in a big smile. I had found it myself, stumbled upon it in the middle of the woods, it had chosen me. I straightened my back and took a couple of steps towards the labyrinth, but when I saw my long shadow I realized how visible I was, standing alone on the big, empty cliff. The rush became fear and I started moving backwards instead, very carefully.
The place radiated a static tension. Just to be there felt wrong, like an act of violence in every step I took. When I reached the edge of the plateau a strong, nauseating smell made me freeze in a violent body memory. We were out in the woods one autumn, me and Dad, when it started to smell just like that, intestines and death, the smell of a ripped animal. We heard dogs barking, I froze in shock and Dad had to carry me back to the car. But now there weren’t any dogs, just the wind.
I looked at the trojaborg. The dark and shapeless shadow in the entrance had grown and now appeared sharper. I slowly moved closer, pulled in against my will. I saw what it was just a few meters away, when it was already too late, too late to back down. It was a horse, or what once was a horse. It still radiated body heat. A bulging eye stared up at the sky.
Dizzy with feelings of dissociation, I just stood there, unable to look away. Its belly was ripped. Intestines spilling out against my white sneakers. A few meters away, in between the trees, something coil-shaped with an unborn’s unfinished features in a coat of mucus and blood. I felt my disgust turning into panic, like when a phobia turns psychotic and violates reality.
I looked down the cliff. If I tried to climb down in the dark, I’d likely break my legs or my neck. I considered following the plateau into the woods on the other side, but I knew I couldn’t go further into the woods. Something or someone out there was capable of ripping a pregnant mare open.
My thoughts were interrupted by a melodic sound, like the echo of distant voices. I crawled backwards up against a rock and imagined a group of people or someone talking to themselves, or maybe calling for a dog. The sound came from the woods on the other side of the cliff. I pressed myself against the rock and crawled into a cave under it. All of my focus was turned towards the trees, I listened out into the silence and tried to make out the sound again. My fear wanted to confirm it, decode it as something with a natural explanation, but every time I thought it would come back I was met by silence. The hope that it could have been voices slowly faded away.
I lied there, frozen for I don’t know how long, just listening to the silence. I started to relax and my thoughts began to wander. I thought of Eli and Sindra, and the life that went on parallel to this. I saw them in front of me, bored, waiting for the night bus or just for something to happen. They had probably forgotten about me, or in which case they wouldn’t miss me.
My legs were numb and tingling. I suddenly couldn’t focus on anything else and decided to try and climb down the cliff after all. I carefully began crawling out of the cave, when I was almost out I heard the sound again, more distinctly this time. I could no longer dismiss it as imagination. Instead, I told myself it must be an animal, some kind of bird, a capercaillie or a grouse. As it came closer, the thoughts of an animal became more and more difficult to visualize. I heard guttural, sharp syllables, long hisses, sounds expressing wills and desires. I stared at the unbroken line of trees as if pure willpower could hold them back. A painful silence followed, as I tried to breath as quietly as possible. My breathing ceased completely when a shadow moved behind the trees and began to crawl over the cliff.
It slowly came closer, a gnarly and skinny figure, something uneven and powerful about its movements told me it could be moving much faster if it stood up straight. At first, I thought it was heading right towards me, but it stopped at the lifeless horse. Paralyzed, I watched as it lifted its head, breathing heavily as if sniffing for something. It turned its head towards me without its body moving, a faint soaring rose in my ears. The moon was shining through a crack in the clouds, and its eyes were reflecting the light - predator eyes, narrow rips of lust.
I pressed my back against the stone until I was shaking. The realization that it was her felt purely physical and had no name. The long hair covered her face in stripes. Mere disgust filled me as she kneeled over the horse's body and pressed herself against the open stomach. She lifted her bloody smile up towards the moon and in a chopping rhythm she began to thrust out what now sounded like a hymn, words with monotone, slashing syllables. Her words grew stronger, it felt like she was singing, like she was calling out for someone. The song reminded me of gale, it came from deep within and carried sorrow, but it wasn’t pure.
I tried to convince myself she couldn’t see me. I pushed as far into the cave as possible and imagined I became part of the stone. But I couldn't shut it out, the sound of steps coming closer, branches breaking. More voices, echoing between the trees out there, answering her. They came from the other side, wandering up the hill, towards the trojaborg, moving out on the stone plateau in a spider-like walk. Sounds and movements in a restrained ecstacy. They looked like mirror reflections of her, her friends, her sisters. They were connected by something more than the song, a coordinated motion. I widened my eyes and stared out into the darkness. Their naked skin gleamed like wax in the moonshine when they stretched their arms out and pulled, pulled on a rope.
At the end of the rope, a shape. I heard the whimpering of a broken vocal cord, the remains of a scream, Kåre’s scream. In an increasing rhythm, they pulled him towards the labyrinth. And with the logic of a nightmare, I suddenly understood what was about to happen, as if I had experienced it before.
They forced him into the horse's body. His voice drowned inside the animal. She laced with something shiny and sharp, an iron wire. Threaded it through the skin and started sewing it together. She trapped him inside the horse's belly. The sound of their song grew louder and louder as Kåre’s voice started to fade. I layed on my stomach with my face against the ground and tried to find the words, when all I could hear was their voices intertwining with something stronger, darker, even more evil than themselves.
I tried to tell myself it wasn’t Kåre, it couldn’t be him buried inside of the horse. I tried to think this wasn't actually happening, but my body was aching and the taste of vomit in my mouth was real. My eyes slowly closed and I faded into a slumber where everything was too late and happened too far away from me. In a way I already knew it when we walked through the woods, it pulled at me, the power beyond us, she wasn’t a stranger. The hymn, we’d sung it. I slowly began to mumble their song, I couldn’t keep it at arm's length anymore.
I was halfway out of my body when the stone started to tremble. A powerful wave as if after a thunder strike came from inside the mountain, drowning their voices in a roar. It suffocated all other sounds from the woods. Their song slowed down and turned into screams as they fled in between the trees, leaving nothing but an echo behind. I was hidden in a cave and over there in the trojaborg inside the horse's body, was Kåre.
Everything went quiet. I thought I’d lost my hearing, that the sound wave had punctured my eardrums. I got up on my elbows and started crawling out of the cave. The second wave was longer and stronger than the first one. It came from deep within the mountain, the vibrations rushed like thunder in my ears, like stone being crushed against stone. I managed to get out at the last moment, if I’d hesitated it would've crushed me.
My last memory of the trojaborg is something I’ve tried to re-evaluate in my head, I’ve tried to make it something else, but the same images always come back to me. I’d crawled to the edge of the cliff and was just about to let go when I turned around. I looked towards the labyrinth, I saw the horse so clearly, it rose on its front legs and opened its eyes.
I let go of the edge and just slipped down, my hands gripping after tree roots and rocks. The moss was wet and slippery but also soft and it catched me when I fell. When I ran through the forest in the darkness it felt like I was shining and pulsating from the fear leaving my body. I finally got to the highway when the sun was starting to rise and followed the road down south, wading through the soaked meadowsweet that grew in the ditches, the smell vapid, stunning me. The sight of a dead fox forced me up on the road. Eventually, a truck stopped and picked me up. I have no other memories of how I got home. I just know I reached my apartment when the sun was starting to set again.
When the door closed behind me and I had locked it, a calmness filled me. For the first time in a couple of days, I was completely alone, out of sight of everyone. Inside the silence I heard familiar sounds, the buzzing of my fridge and someone walking around in the apartment above me. The blinds were down and most of my things were already packed in moving boxes stacked up in the living room.
I felt like hugging myself. I went to the bathroom and kneeled down in the shower. Dirt and moss ran off of me and swirled down the drain. I sat there, long after the water had turned cold.
A shirt in my closet still smelled of Dad. I put it on and layed down in my bed, stared at the ceiling and took in what was left of him. I searched for a pattern but all I saw was the animal head, Kåre’s tattoo flickering in front of me. He must’ve known about the amazing force in the trojaborg, it dazzled him. He’d seen the ritual before, she’d shown him, and invited him. He’d seen the dead rise up from the ground and he wanted to use the force selfishly. I pushed the thoughts of him away and turned my questions inwards. I tried to follow a memory far back, a summer on a train, on my way with Dad. On my way home, that’s how I remembered it, but home where? Home to who? The memory split ways and led nowhere.
I had no doubts that I was Kåre’s intended victim. When we were in the car on our way from the party and I lied with my head in his lap, he said something about left-handed magic. I assumed it was just a superficial hobby, maybe he even knew less than I did.
Deep inside of me, I've always known that life requires sacrifice. Sacrifices turns your desires into actions and push deep into the webs of relations, so deep the chaos has to part ways. But a sacrifice is only a maybe, you abandon all rights to feel remorse. Kåre didn’t understand the basic principle of a sacrifice, that a sacrifice is no longer yours when it involves a strong force. My thoughts moved in spirals and drove me into a shallow sleep.
I woke up cold and sweaty, searching in my memory after someone to tell all this to. Dad's armchair was still standing in front of his desk. I crawled up in it and explored what Dad had left behind. In the top drawer I found his phone book. I started flipping the pages, page up and page down, filled with Dad's handwriting. My gaze lingered on crossed out and circled names.
A couple of pages stuck together as if someone had spilled something on them and I had to carefully pry them open. A photograph fell into my lap. I picked it up with a growing feeling of anxiety. “At mothers. Summer -79” it said on the back. Reluctantly, I turned the photo around.
The house looked newly painted and the chairs had cushions with a floral pattern, and there on the chair under the dart board I sat with my legs dangling, next to grandma. I don’t remember ever meeting her, to me she was nothing more than a story my dad used to tell me. She was sitting in such an unnatural way. Her long hair covering her face, I couldn’t make out if I saw her from behind or from the front, as if the photo had been double-exposed. I think she smiled at the camera.
I stood up from the armchair and rushed out on the balcony. Feeling protected by the darkness, I found myself just standing there for a while, trying to calm my breathing, looking down at the shadows of my backyard. Who took that photo, was it Dad? Had we been there together, with her, at her house? A light turned on in the house opposite to me. I pushed myself against the wall so I wouldn’t be seen.
In the living room stood a moving box filled with Dad's books, neatly packed up to the edge. I was overcome with a sense of abandonment and began tearing out the books. One by one I read the titles before tossing them in a pile on the floor. My outburst didn't last long, pretty soon I collapsed into a powerless fetal position. I continued to go through the last ones at the bottom of the box but it took a long time, I started flipping through the books and got sidetracked. I opened a booklet with the title "The Goddess in the Labyrinth" and looked through the text. Mostly stuff I already knew, words that Dad underlined with a pencil, and nothing about left-handed magic.
The box was empty and I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I was about to get up when I noticed an old envelope stuck to the side of the box. I picked it up and brought it closer to the light from the window. On the back was our address, the old address. I turned the envelope over, "To my little Jackie, Christmas -81" it said in red ink. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, it wasn’t my father's, even though the envelope and its contents were dedicated to me. I examined it carefully. The envelope was torn open but the contents appeared to be intact. I picked out something that looked like a folded handkerchief. With a faint hum in my ears, I unfolded the fabric until it layed fully spread out on the floor in front of me. It wasn't an embroidery, I remembered it wrong, it was some kind of stitching representing an animal head. I understood why I never dared to enter that room alone, the eyes were bleeding holes. Above it, someone had sewed sharp letters like on a tapestry:
Twist a man swollen sore
Twist him inside animals roar
Twist his heart, twist his lungs
Twist his words in his tounge
Twist a man in his horse
Twist screaming animal force
I will twist the iron wire
Until you tears of blood will cry
I didn't stay in the apartment that night. I moved out that autumn into a collective in Vårberg. I gave Dad’s things to charity. I still wake up from that dream. In the dream I stay, without trying to escape. The mountain rumbles and shakes as if thunder is coming from within it.
I crawl out of my hiding place behind the rock. The darkness does not come from the woods or the night sky, it comes from the trojaborg. Pours out of it in a swirl, counterclockwise, toward the horse's body in the opening. The horse stands up. The darkness beams through it as it throws its head back in a scream. It opens its eyes and the darkness swirls out of them straight at me. I feel the blood crush my veins as Earth slows down and starts spinning in the other direction.

He suddenly came towards me in the dirty tunnel that leads to the subway, up the stairs from the mall, dressed in Adidas and a puffy duvet jacket. His breath steamed in the cold. A woman stumbled next to him, in broken high heels. They looked like they were in a hurry, to get away from someone or something. Destroyed faces, but not because of age or starvation, they looked young and healthy.
He should’ve been at least twenty years older now, I told myself it couldn’t be him and looked away without knowing if the man had seen me or not.
His face, as I remember it, spoke of his past addictions. No traces of serious violence, but at the same time deformed as after a fight. The proportions seemed wrong. Symmetrical, but swollen. I saw the tattoo on his neck, on the left side facing me, the outline of an animal head. Kåres' tattoo was red, this man's tattoo shimmered in purple. It could’ve been a bruise. A milky haze surrounded them, except for the man’s white sneakers that shined sharp against the gray concrete. It looked like they were living on that thin line between partying and homelessness. I was sure he was dead.
When they’d passed by, a sour smell of adrenaline hovered in the air. I stood there, in my own thoughts, long after I’d missed my train, looking down at my blurry hands, as a whole inner world of sadness and trauma started to open. I wanted to think that I had buried what happened that summer somewhere deep, deep down, where it had been crushed by the weights of new, better memories. But the man with the tattoo dug it all up again. I looked at my own hands and felt I was going into dissociation. Right there and then, I promised myself to write about it.
I met Kåre in the late summer, my first summer without Dad. I lived alone in our apartment on the Red Line towards Norsborg. When I think back to that summer, I see the broken living room clock before me. It stopped working long before when Dad was still alive, but it reminded me that something had stopped in me too.
Summer was happening somewhere out there, slipped in through the cracks in my closed blinds, it felt like time was rushing by without ever touching me. I went out sometimes, sure. To the mall with some friends, to the park or the empty schoolyard. We climbed up the fire escape ladder and carved swear words into the brick wall.
One day in the beginning of August we drove down south, me, Eli and Sindra. I remember how we cranked down the windows and it was claustrophobically hot. Eli put on a playlist called Happy Hardcore. Songs with frequencies as high as the summer sky.
I leaned out the window. Pine trees, red cottages, and wheat fields smeared together by the speed. When I saw the landscape dance past me I remembered Dad’s crosses. He took me out in the woods. Pointed out pits, hills and ditches and said they were graves, fireplaces and traps. Dead shapes, waiting for the right time to wake up.
Dad was a janitor, but he dreamt of becoming an archeologist. He leant scientific books and read them to me like bedtime stories, instructions about how pendulums and squares can be used as instruments to find ancient monuments.
He believed in earth radiation; the theory that lines make out a checkered pattern around Earth. The past generations knew a lot of things about this radiation. Old amphitheaters and cairns are strategically placed around ethereal force fields. Where the lines cross each other in X:es, a swirling energy arises, whose original purpose was lost a long time ago. Sometimes, when we were out in the woods and came to a particular glade or grove, he’d lift me up and put me down in the middle of one of those crosses. I stood completely still, barely breathing while he measured with a pendulum to see if the earth’s radiation made my aura bigger or smaller. Dad was so proud of my aura.
I reached out the window and felt the shape of my hand in the wind.
We stopped at a pizza place. Eli and Sindra had to go get gas, so I went in by myself. When I stood in line for the bathroom, that’s when I saw the horse head. It looked down at me from the wall, with bulging eyes made out of glass. I wondered why they used it as decoration. It looked bizarre and sinister, in every way unbearable.
When the bathroom was available I quickly ran inside and locked the door. I leaned against it, and tried to focus on my breathing, like Dad had taught me. Where the mirror should’ve been, someone had written "horror vacui” with a black marker. ”Fear of the void”.
I washed my wrists with cold water. The water took the uneasy feeling with it in a swirl down the drain. When I felt better I went out to Eli and Sindra, who were already in the car.
We drove on. The evening came. One of those blue, late summer evenings when the light deepens and the air cools down. The road narrowed down. I got nauseous, it felt like we were moving inwards, in a curve. We parked on the road and I looked up at the stars. I pointed out little bear, but they didn’t care. They were trying to locate the music in the woods. I didn’t really feel like they wanted me there, so I kept my distance. After a while the ground thinned out into sand and the smell of pine trees mixed with sea salt. I saw lights glimmer where the trees opened up to the ocean. Some people were dancing, others were just squeezing through. Eli and Sindra stood further down the beach, next to a fire. They tried to be cool but they looked so tense. I remember how obvious it looked, how they were flickering just like the flames. I turned around and walked into the woods again.
I found a hill that looked good to sit at, and that’s where I met him. Kåre.
I remember the hill was covered in strangely shimmering moss. When I turned around he looked at me with small pupils through the haze. The tattoo on his neck, some kind of animal head, so red I thought it was a wound at first. It looked like a children’s drawing, or back in the day when they used to stuff animals without knowing what they looked like, so they just made something up. I pushed away the memory of the horse head in the restaurant, and instead, I thought about that embroidery, the one in Dad’s office. I was scared of it as a child, I never wanted to go in that room alone. I wondered what had happened to it, did I still have it? Grandma made it for him, isn’t that what he said? I looked at the tattoo again and shivered, it had the same, bulging eyes.
Kåre smiled at me, and I looked down at the hill, speckled with moss. It grew in spirals, I’d never noticed that before, that moss curves, turn after turn, like a swirling paisley pattern. Kåre put something in my hand. It was a green pill, and one side was pressed with a symbol, looking almost like a human gut.
“That’s a trojaborg”, I said surprised. “The symbol, it’s a labyrinth. They actually exist, near the coast, by mountains and the ocean, like here.” I looked up at him.
I used to worry about my high-pitched voice, it sounded like I was always trying to get attention, but now I just sounded rough, like someone else was speaking through me. “Some people think it’s a Christian thing”, I said, “because they think that they put the stones in the middle down first like a cross and then built the paths after that. But it’s not a cross, it’s just an intersection with two lines. The cult surrounding labyrinths is way older than Christianity. We had labyrinths in Scandinavia before, long, long before, when the ocean was like a highway up here…”
Kåre lit two cigarettes and gave me one. I smoked with him and started to feel euphoric. It felt so good to speak without restrictions, to put together things I must’ve heard once, like Dad always did.
“There are labyrinths in marble floors and on wooden doors of old houses. The symbol became a Christian thing, but it was used in old rituals long before that. Sometimes they call it the ‘virgin dance’, and that sounds like a ritual to me. They sacrificed things, too. Think of it as, like, a dance.” I did a little swirl. “Some people think the word trojaborg comes from the word ‘troj’, which means twisting. Rotation. Spinning something around and around and around…”
Kåre dropped his cigarette and stepped on it, leaned down and looked at something metallic. He had a thin mustache that didn’t match his boy-like body. I didn’t know if he was listening, but I kept talking. “Labyrinths exist in every culture, or at least stories about them”, I continued, “they’re a symbol for the uterus and death at the same time, a spiral towards the ethereal.”
I didn’t feel any shame, I just wanted to keep talking.
“Some trojaborg’s are built at places named after bears. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, but bears symbolize resurrection ‘cause they sleep all winter but wake up again in the spring. The Saamis bury dead bears sometimes. The farmers pushed the collectors and hunters away but they never stopped sacrificing, they came back. They always do.”
I closed my eyes and leaned against the stone. The woods were full of sounds, music and someone's high-pitched, rough voice. When I opened my eyes I saw a red Bengal light down by the water. I looked at it for a while, before continuing.
“People are still superstitious, to this day. When fishermen were going out to sea and didn’t want any bad luck, they ran through the trojaborg before they left. When they’d reached the middle they ran straight out, without following the paths. They thought the bad luck would get stuck in there. Absorbed by the force.”
Kåre stroked my arm with his fingertips. I breathed out, felt a tingling warmth in my chest, and I didn’t say anything else for a while.
“What did you say about horse cemeteries?” he asked when the sun was starting to rise, and I saw that what was lying on the ground was small pieces of aluminum foil.
“You mean bear cemeteries?” He nodded.
“They are often found near the trojanborg’s, some think they were built with stones from old ruins. Graves from people that lived by the shore and hunted seals and whales. Those who came here first, and hunted in the moonshine.” I looked up at the stars that were starting to fade.
“The labyrinth was a manifestation of the sun cult and later Christianity, a definitive way to shut them out. But I don’t think…”
“What do you think, then?” He smiled. I didn’t know what to say. I remembered what Dad said. About certain places that generate darkness. Places that make things move around them, wander in cycles. He always told me to watch out for the intersections, the crosses. We’re drawn to them, attracted by the invisible forces, but we have to watch out.
“If you’ve made sacrifices at the same place for over a thousand years, I don’t think you’ll leave it in the first place. It takes a lot... ”
I tried to look Kåre in the eyes, but he was busy picking up foil from the moss-covered rocks and putting it in a zip bag.
“I don’t believe in coincidences”, I said, “maybe there was something, like something in the ground that made people seek those places out... And seek them out over and over again.”
We stood up and walked down the hill, side by side, into the haze of people dancing and screaming.
The sound of laughter, an exaggerated, broken laughter, woke me up. I was lying in the backseat with my throbbing head in Kåre’s lap. He tried to speak over the music, almost screaming, I remember hearing him say something about how he couldn’t stand up straight anymore. Because it was so strong now, so fucking strong.
I couldn’t see Eli or Sindra, the guys sitting in the front seat were complete strangers to me.
The broken laughter-guy interrupted Kåre. “Hahaha! You fucking freak! You fucking hippie!”
The other one, the one driving, asked for coordinates. Kåre answered: “That place has no price. You just gotta have something she wants. You have to deliver.”
“Deliver what? What does it cost?” the other one asked skeptically.
Kåre sighed. “Do you know what ‘the left-hand path’ is?”
A silence, before that repulsive, broken laughter exploded again. “Hahaha! You fucking weirdo! You fucking psycho!”
“Didn’t think you’d know anyways”, Kåre said.
The car stopped at a road barrier and we got out, squinting in the bright sunshine. I’d never met them before, and they both looked much older than me, a few years older than Kåre. We climbed over the barrier and started walking down a path. It seemed to lead us nowhere, until the woods opened up and revealed a red little house. Kåre went around the house to the front door and pulled out a key.
Broken laughter-guy said: “But like, I don’t believe in that kind of stuff! The fucking hocus pocus shit!”
I stepped onto the porch and found myself just standing there, looking at an old dartboard. It reminded me of something. It was speckled with marks from the arrows but also some darker spots, so scuffed you couldn’t make out the lines between the different scores.
My thoughts were interrupted by sounds coming from the other side of the house. It sounded like something falling and breaking, like the deafening sound of iron pipes rolling down concrete stairs and Kåre screamed: “For fucks sake!”
I looked down at the cracks in the wooden deck and fell into a melancholic state. Thoughts of summer evenings here with people that have been dead for many years, or maybe are sitting alone at a retirement home somewhere with nothing but memories left. Fantasies blending in with my own summer memories, and stories my Dad used to tell me. Summers with his Mom, things that might’ve been just dreams, or someone else’s memory, I don’t know whose.
A chair with broken legs was standing in front of the house. I poked at it with my foot, it wobbled a bit, and in a swaying, slowdown of time, I remembered. I was completely sure. I’d been here before.
Kåre had finally managed to open the door. He smiled at me from inside the house, through the window. It was dark in there, but I could see stacks of books and piles of electronic devices, TV:s and stereos. Leaning against the walls and exploding out of the drawers.
Kåre gave something in a Coop bag to the broken laughter-guy and they shared a squarelike hug. I observed them through the window. I could see their lips moving, but I had no idea what they were saying to each other. They looked over at me with a big grin, before they disappeared out of my vision and I could hear the front door opening, and eventually, the car driving off.
I followed Kåre into the woods, down towards the sea. We took our shoes off and ran barefoot through the sand. The sea was quite big, surrounded by compact trees reflecting in the black, shining water. We waded towards a cliff. This was the ocean two thousand years ago, I thought to myself as I climbed the big stone. We took our shirts off and layed down, close to each other.
“It’s really weird”, I said after a while, “I feel like I’ve been here before. On this cliff, and in the house too. I feel like that sometimes, like I should remember something, but I just can’t.” The sunlight was blinding me, I squinted at him. “I was brought up in a way that make you different.”
“Make you different”, he mimicked, but I ignored him.
“It was just me and my Dad, we didn’t have anything else. He never told me anything about his own childhood. He blamed it on his bad memory, but I never believed him. Maybe you inherit it, the pushing things away, the suppression.” I leaned back on the warm stone. “I’ve always felt rootless.”
“Me too”, Kåre mumbled.
“How did you find this place, do you know people here or something?” I tried to seem unbothered, didn't want to dig up something dark in him.
“I leant it from an old lady, she lives in the woods now.”
The heat from the sun beamed at my spine, but I still shivered. He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a Coca-Cola. I drank so fast I choked, but it didn’t taste of anything at all, just a hint of rust.
“There’s something in the woods I think you’d like to see”, he whispered and stroked my hair.
We stuffed his backpack full of beer and cigarettes. I borrowed a fleece jacket that smelled of gasoline. Kåre had a coat with dark stains all over the chest. When he leaned against the wall and rolled a spliff, as I kneeled in his shadow to tie my shoes, we looked like a bad sign, an omen, two outgrowns on the same darkness. I remember feeling like we were directed towards a swirling hatred.
Kåre kicked rocks as we walked down the road. The sun was still shining bright, coloring the clouds. We reached a field surrounded by small, timbered cottages. It seemed abandoned and forgotten, but as if something was kept awake there.
Kåre and I were the only things visible in the dark windows. I asked him about the old lady he leant the house from. Who was she?
He kicked away a big stone. “Do you really want to know?” he asked.
I thought about it for a while, not really knowing why I wanted to know, or even what I was doing here with Kåre in the first place. But there was something about him, something about the way he distracted me from everything else.
“I usually don’t experience this”, I mumbled, “I usually remember, but when you were in the house and I waited for you on the porch, I just knew I’d been there before. Maybe I’ll remember more if you tell me about her?”
“Sure”, he said, “if you want to remember. She used to slaughter the small animals on the porch. That says a lot about her, I guess. She found it practical. I helped her clean it up afterwards…”
“Wait, what do you mean, slaughter the small animals on the porch? What does that mean?” I tried to look him in the eyes, but he looked away.
“She’d slaughter the big ones by the sea.” The way he said it made it sound neutral, like he couldn’t care less about the animals.
We walked into the woods again, towards the mountains. The dried moss crunched under our feet. It became softer at places, and the ground gave away. Rocks, pine trees and moss repeated themselves in a landscape without landmarks.
When I slipped and fell I found myself just lying on the ground for a while. The woods were still now, and the only thing I heard was a faint rumble from far away, maybe it was the highway that sounded just as lonely as the sea. I closed my eyes, the tiredness made me feel soft. When I tried to stand up again the world flickered before my eyes and I had to lean against a tree.
In my memories, that’s when I heard the scream. It sounded like an animal, or any creature dying a painful death. It made me completely lose my perception of reality. I couldn’t breathe, like after getting punched hard in the stomach and I had to sit down again. When I tried to locate where the sound came from, it disappeared.
I stood up and felt the weight of something hard and cold in my hand, a stone. I must’ve picked it up from the ground, but I couldn’t remember doing so. Shaken by adrenaline, I started running in the direction I saw Kåre disappear in. I caught up with him. He stopped and stood with his back turned towards me.
“Did you hear that?” I looked into the woods. “It sounded like an animal”, I continued. “A big animal… It sounded sick, so fucking sick. You heard it, right?”
I pulled my hand through my hair and crushed a bug that I smeared on my jacket, disgusted by the texture. He didn’t answer. He looked at something, something I couldn’t see. The realization that I was in the middle of nowhere with a crazy stranger suddenly struck me.
“We have to go back. It’s getting dark.” I tried to raise my voice but I sounded like a pathetic little girl.
He didn’t answer, instead, he kneeled down, leaning forward, his hands intertwined behind his neck, rocking back and forth. His ears looked so small. It looked like he was crying, something shiny over his cheeks.
I lightly put my hand on his shoulder and stroked down his arm. He grabbed my wrist, as fast as lightning. I screamed and tried to break free, but tripped and fell backward.
That made him relax. He leaned over me in the dark woods like he was about to say something, but I’ll never know what it was. I struck the stone as hard as I could and hit his temple, a dull sound echoed through the woods. He stumbled back with his hands around his head, and I stood up and started to run.
It felt easy, even though I was running uphill, every step felt irresistible like something was pulling me forward. Soft shadows grew out of the gaps in the rocks, trees and stone blended together. I remember seeing a pine tree that stood bent with its crown growing down towards the earth instead of up towards the sky. A tree that grows like that speaks of something so wrong, something so sick, and twisted out of itself. And I can't say why I continued running in that direction.
I kept on running up until the ground hardened and the woods thinned out. Some light birch trees circled a glade next to an uphill mountain. It was like stepping into a room, separated from the hungry rocks and dark pine trees. The ground was covered with small, yellow flowers, almost shining in the dark.
I started regaining feeling in my legs again. I breathed in hoarse gasps and my eyes flickered in every direction. The direction felt crucial, but at the same time it felt like the choice wasn’t mine, there was something else, something beyond.
I started climbing, in a desperate neither one of them, straight up the cliff. I climbed in small jumps and bent tree roots. The higher I climbed, the more targeted I felt. I tasted blood in my mouth. On the inside of my eyelids I could see Kåre standing down in the glade, picking up stones and throwing them at me. I imagined him grabbing my foot to try and pull me down, tearing at me like an animal. It was only when I’d reached the top of the mountain that I dared to turn around.
Space howered deep blue over the trees. The glade was empty, but down there I thought I could see the shining flowers like small, yellow eyes staring up at me where I stood, swaying on the edge.
I turned around. A cold, bare mountain plateau opened up in front of me. My gaze was immediately drawn to an uneven circle further ahead. It took a while for my eyes to adjust and it started taking form, swirl after swirl, curling like a snake. The trojaborg.
Dad would’ve thought it was magnificent, with stones as big as human heads in the cross towards the center. In the dark, the proportions felt bigger and the paths cleaner than in the ones he’d shown me as a kid. Shadows fell over the entrance. I squinted, it looked like something was laying there.
A rush of dark euphoria made my eyes water and my mouth stretch out in a big smile. I had found it myself, stumbled upon it in the middle of the woods, it had chosen me. I straightened my back and took a couple of steps towards the labyrinth, but when I saw my long shadow I realized how visible I was, standing alone on the big, empty cliff. The rush became fear and I started moving backwards instead, very carefully.
The place radiated a static tension. Just to be there felt wrong, like an act of violence in every step I took. When I reached the edge of the plateau a strong, nauseating smell made me freeze in a violent body memory. We were out in the woods one autumn, me and Dad, when it started to smell just like that, intestines and death, the smell of a ripped animal. We heard dogs barking, I froze in shock and Dad had to carry me back to the car. But now there weren’t any dogs, just the wind.
I looked at the trojaborg. The dark and shapeless shadow in the entrance had grown and now appeared sharper. I slowly moved closer, pulled in against my will. I saw what it was just a few meters away, when it was already too late, too late to back down. It was a horse, or what once was a horse. It still radiated body heat. A bulging eye stared up at the sky.
Dizzy with feelings of dissociation, I just stood there, unable to look away. Its belly was ripped. Intestines spilling out against my white sneakers. A few meters away, in between the trees, something coil-shaped with an unborn’s unfinished features in a coat of mucus and blood. I felt my disgust turning into panic, like when a phobia turns psychotic and violates reality.
I looked down the cliff. If I tried to climb down in the dark, I’d likely break my legs or my neck. I considered following the plateau into the woods on the other side, but I knew I couldn’t go further into the woods. Something or someone out there was capable of ripping a pregnant mare open.
My thoughts were interrupted by a melodic sound, like the echo of distant voices. I crawled backwards up against a rock and imagined a group of people or someone talking to themselves, or maybe calling for a dog. The sound came from the woods on the other side of the cliff. I pressed myself against the rock and crawled into a cave under it. All of my focus was turned towards the trees, I listened out into the silence and tried to make out the sound again. My fear wanted to confirm it, decode it as something with a natural explanation, but every time I thought it would come back I was met by silence. The hope that it could have been voices slowly faded away.
I lied there, frozen for I don’t know how long, just listening to the silence. I started to relax and my thoughts began to wander. I thought of Eli and Sindra, and the life that went on parallel to this. I saw them in front of me, bored, waiting for the night bus or just for something to happen. They had probably forgotten about me, or in which case they wouldn’t miss me.
My legs were numb and tingling. I suddenly couldn’t focus on anything else and decided to try and climb down the cliff after all. I carefully began crawling out of the cave, when I was almost out I heard the sound again, more distinctly this time. I could no longer dismiss it as imagination. Instead, I told myself it must be an animal, some kind of bird, a capercaillie or a grouse. As it came closer, the thoughts of an animal became more and more difficult to visualize. I heard guttural, sharp syllables, long hisses, sounds expressing wills and desires. I stared at the unbroken line of trees as if pure willpower could hold them back. A painful silence followed, as I tried to breath as quietly as possible. My breathing ceased completely when a shadow moved behind the trees and began to crawl over the cliff.
It slowly came closer, a gnarly and skinny figure, something uneven and powerful about its movements told me it could be moving much faster if it stood up straight. At first, I thought it was heading right towards me, but it stopped at the lifeless horse. Paralyzed, I watched as it lifted its head, breathing heavily as if sniffing for something. It turned its head towards me without its body moving, a faint soaring rose in my ears. The moon was shining through a crack in the clouds, and its eyes were reflecting the light - predator eyes, narrow rips of lust.
I pressed my back against the stone until I was shaking. The realization that it was her felt purely physical and had no name. The long hair covered her face in stripes. Mere disgust filled me as she kneeled over the horse's body and pressed herself against the open stomach. She lifted her bloody smile up towards the moon and in a chopping rhythm she began to thrust out what now sounded like a hymn, words with monotone, slashing syllables. Her words grew stronger, it felt like she was singing, like she was calling out for someone. The song reminded me of gale, it came from deep within and carried sorrow, but it wasn’t pure.
I tried to convince myself she couldn’t see me. I pushed as far into the cave as possible and imagined I became part of the stone. But I couldn't shut it out, the sound of steps coming closer, branches breaking. More voices, echoing between the trees out there, answering her. They came from the other side, wandering up the hill, towards the trojaborg, moving out on the stone plateau in a spider-like walk. Sounds and movements in a restrained ecstacy. They looked like mirror reflections of her, her friends, her sisters. They were connected by something more than the song, a coordinated motion. I widened my eyes and stared out into the darkness. Their naked skin gleamed like wax in the moonshine when they stretched their arms out and pulled, pulled on a rope.
At the end of the rope, a shape. I heard the whimpering of a broken vocal cord, the remains of a scream, Kåre’s scream. In an increasing rhythm, they pulled him towards the labyrinth. And with the logic of a nightmare, I suddenly understood what was about to happen, as if I had experienced it before.
They forced him into the horse's body. His voice drowned inside the animal. She laced with something shiny and sharp, an iron wire. Threaded it through the skin and started sewing it together. She trapped him inside the horse's belly. The sound of their song grew louder and louder as Kåre’s voice started to fade. I layed on my stomach with my face against the ground and tried to find the words, when all I could hear was their voices intertwining with something stronger, darker, even more evil than themselves.
I tried to tell myself it wasn’t Kåre, it couldn’t be him buried inside of the horse. I tried to think this wasn't actually happening, but my body was aching and the taste of vomit in my mouth was real. My eyes slowly closed and I faded into a slumber where everything was too late and happened too far away from me. In a way I already knew it when we walked through the woods, it pulled at me, the power beyond us, she wasn’t a stranger. The hymn, we’d sung it. I slowly began to mumble their song, I couldn’t keep it at arm's length anymore.
I was halfway out of my body when the stone started to tremble. A powerful wave as if after a thunder strike came from inside the mountain, drowning their voices in a roar. It suffocated all other sounds from the woods. Their song slowed down and turned into screams as they fled in between the trees, leaving nothing but an echo behind. I was hidden in a cave and over there in the trojaborg inside the horse's body, was Kåre.
Everything went quiet. I thought I’d lost my hearing, that the sound wave had punctured my eardrums. I got up on my elbows and started crawling out of the cave. The second wave was longer and stronger than the first one. It came from deep within the mountain, the vibrations rushed like thunder in my ears, like stone being crushed against stone. I managed to get out at the last moment, if I’d hesitated it would've crushed me.
My last memory of the trojaborg is something I’ve tried to re-evaluate in my head, I’ve tried to make it something else, but the same images always come back to me. I’d crawled to the edge of the cliff and was just about to let go when I turned around. I looked towards the labyrinth, I saw the horse so clearly, it rose on its front legs and opened its eyes.
I let go of the edge and just slipped down, my hands gripping after tree roots and rocks. The moss was wet and slippery but also soft and it catched me when I fell. When I ran through the forest in the darkness it felt like I was shining and pulsating from the fear leaving my body. I finally got to the highway when the sun was starting to rise and followed the road down south, wading through the soaked meadowsweet that grew in the ditches, the smell vapid, stunning me. The sight of a dead fox forced me up on the road. Eventually, a truck stopped and picked me up. I have no other memories of how I got home. I just know I reached my apartment when the sun was starting to set again.
When the door closed behind me and I had locked it, a calmness filled me. For the first time in a couple of days, I was completely alone, out of sight of everyone. Inside the silence I heard familiar sounds, the buzzing of my fridge and someone walking around in the apartment above me. The blinds were down and most of my things were already packed in moving boxes stacked up in the living room.
I felt like hugging myself. I went to the bathroom and kneeled down in the shower. Dirt and moss ran off of me and swirled down the drain. I sat there, long after the water had turned cold.
A shirt in my closet still smelled of Dad. I put it on and layed down in my bed, stared at the ceiling and took in what was left of him. I searched for a pattern but all I saw was the animal head, Kåre’s tattoo flickering in front of me. He must’ve known about the amazing force in the trojaborg, it dazzled him. He’d seen the ritual before, she’d shown him, and invited him. He’d seen the dead rise up from the ground and he wanted to use the force selfishly. I pushed the thoughts of him away and turned my questions inwards. I tried to follow a memory far back, a summer on a train, on my way with Dad. On my way home, that’s how I remembered it, but home where? Home to who? The memory split ways and led nowhere.
I had no doubts that I was Kåre’s intended victim. When we were in the car on our way from the party and I lied with my head in his lap, he said something about left-handed magic. I assumed it was just a superficial hobby, maybe he even knew less than I did.
Deep inside of me, I've always known that life requires sacrifice. Sacrifices turns your desires into actions and push deep into the webs of relations, so deep the chaos has to part ways. But a sacrifice is only a maybe, you abandon all rights to feel remorse. Kåre didn’t understand the basic principle of a sacrifice, that a sacrifice is no longer yours when it involves a strong force. My thoughts moved in spirals and drove me into a shallow sleep.
I woke up cold and sweaty, searching in my memory after someone to tell all this to. Dad's armchair was still standing in front of his desk. I crawled up in it and explored what Dad had left behind. In the top drawer I found his phone book. I started flipping the pages, page up and page down, filled with Dad's handwriting. My gaze lingered on crossed out and circled names.
A couple of pages stuck together as if someone had spilled something on them and I had to carefully pry them open. A photograph fell into my lap. I picked it up with a growing feeling of anxiety. “At mothers. Summer -79” it said on the back. Reluctantly, I turned the photo around.
The house looked newly painted and the chairs had cushions with a floral pattern, and there on the chair under the dart board I sat with my legs dangling, next to grandma. I don’t remember ever meeting her, to me she was nothing more than a story my dad used to tell me. She was sitting in such an unnatural way. Her long hair covering her face, I couldn’t make out if I saw her from behind or from the front, as if the photo had been double-exposed. I think she smiled at the camera.
I stood up from the armchair and rushed out on the balcony. Feeling protected by the darkness, I found myself just standing there for a while, trying to calm my breathing, looking down at the shadows of my backyard. Who took that photo, was it Dad? Had we been there together, with her, at her house? A light turned on in the house opposite to me. I pushed myself against the wall so I wouldn’t be seen.
In the living room stood a moving box filled with Dad's books, neatly packed up to the edge. I was overcome with a sense of abandonment and began tearing out the books. One by one I read the titles before tossing them in a pile on the floor. My outburst didn't last long, pretty soon I collapsed into a powerless fetal position. I continued to go through the last ones at the bottom of the box but it took a long time, I started flipping through the books and got sidetracked. I opened a booklet with the title "The Goddess in the Labyrinth" and looked through the text. Mostly stuff I already knew, words that Dad underlined with a pencil, and nothing about left-handed magic.
The box was empty and I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I was about to get up when I noticed an old envelope stuck to the side of the box. I picked it up and brought it closer to the light from the window. On the back was our address, the old address. I turned the envelope over, "To my little Jackie, Christmas -81" it said in red ink. I didn’t recognize the handwriting, it wasn’t my father's, even though the envelope and its contents were dedicated to me. I examined it carefully. The envelope was torn open but the contents appeared to be intact. I picked out something that looked like a folded handkerchief. With a faint hum in my ears, I unfolded the fabric until it layed fully spread out on the floor in front of me. It wasn't an embroidery, I remembered it wrong, it was some kind of stitching representing an animal head. I understood why I never dared to enter that room alone, the eyes were bleeding holes. Above it, someone had sewed sharp letters like on a tapestry:
Twist a man swollen sore
Twist him with animals roar
Twist his heart, twist his lungs
Twist his words in his tounge
Twist a man in his horse
Twist screaming animal force
I will twist the iron wire
Until you tears of blood cry
I didn't stay in the apartment that night. I moved out that autumn and moved into a collective in Vårberg. I gave my Dad’s things to charity. I still wake up from that dream. In the dream I stay, without trying to escape. The mountain rumbles and shakes as if thunder is coming from within it.
I crawl out of my hiding place behind the rock. The darkness does not come from the woods or the night sky, it comes from the trojaborg. Pours out of it in a swirl, counterclockwise, toward the horse's body in the opening. The horse stands up. The darkness beams through it as it throws its head back in a scream. It opens its eyes and the darkness swirls out of them straight at me. I feel the blood crush my veins as the earth stops and starts spinning in the other direction.

i have the most stubborn sebaceous filaments to ever exist and i'm looking for a cleansing oil that will hopefully get rid of them. i'm currently using the haru haru one, but i feel like it doesn't really do much for me. like it does get rid of a teensy bit of buildup on my nose, but it's still nothing compared to all of the filaments i have on my nose and chin.
i'm also very prone to closed comedones on my forehead and cheeks, so i'm a bit wary of a lot of cleanisng oils because i'm scared to break out. i think my skin type is normal, although my nose and forehead get pretty shiny throughout the day. i dont know if my skincare routine will affect which cleansing oils i should use, so i'll add it just in case

• cleansing oil: haru haru wonder
• cleanser: panoxyl 10% (only at night)
• toner: kikumasamune skin lotion
• serum: numbuzin no. 5
• moisturizer: cosrx green tea cream
• sunscreen: biore uv aqua cream

Hi all!
My baby is 9 weeks. For the last 6 weeks we’ve been experiencing colic and various other symptoms (will list below!) that I have been harassing our GP about as I’m not happy to just settle for ‘colic’ when he was clearly in pain. I am exclusively pumping.
2 weeks ago we had his tongue snipped - prior to this he was incredibly gassy but this has now cleared up.
Also 2 weeks ago, around the same time, we started omeprazole for reflux after previously trying gaviscon and it making him constipated.
He has been a much happier baby since then, bar catching a cold! However, some symptoms still remain - it’s just that he isn’t as ‘colicky’. I’m unsure whether to keep pushing the GP to try a hypoallergenic formula (I have PPD and have been recommended not to cut out dairy myself, and I’m looking to move to formula soon anyway as my supply isn’t enough for him anymore)
The symptoms that remain :

• A lot of mucus in stool (no blood that I’ve seen)
• Bad sleep (short naps, frequent night wakes and always wakes crying)
• Congested at night (snoring and very loud breathing, sometimes so congested it seems to stop his breathing and wakes him up)
• Crying after feeds / when being burped
• Constant hiccups
• Belly bubbling/gurgling and then he seems to cry out in pain
• Bringing up milk multiple times much later after a feed

He doesn’t seem to have eczema but does have very dry cheek skin and some spots. Another thing that makes me suspicious is that he’s always been happy to lay down - not something a reflux baby is known for?
Any insight onto if these remaining symptoms are indicators of an intolerance or still could be reflux related would be great. I have a follow up appointment in a week so as much info as I can take with me would be great.

I had a successful medicated abortion a week ago. I was pretty nervous beforehand and read a lot of posts on here before the procedure so that I could be mentally prepared, so I thought I'd contribute my experience to help anyone planning to go through one. I am lucky to have a very sweet partner who helped me through the whole experience and also live near the hospital that gave me the medication, so overall it went as smoothly as it could have.
I was 4w 6d when I took the mifepristone and 5w exact when I took the misoprostol the following day. The doctor said that because I was in such an early stage, they would not be able to see anything from ultrasound and could not confirm whether it was ectopic or not, but because I was very healthy (had a very regular cycle, etc) it was fine to just go ahead with the MA. They also said that at such an early stage, the process would not be too bad and would be like a rough period for me. I was given prescriptions for ibuprofen (600 mg), oxycodone (5 mg), and zofran (4 mg) for nausea.
To confirm whether the MA worked, I was to take a blood test for beta-hCG the day I take the mifepristone, and again 2-3 days after the misoprostol. I was at a hospital near me so blood lab services were easily accessible, but most anecdotes I'd read involved a urine test 4-6 weeks after the procedure instead of a blood test. The doctor explained that hCG levels decay exponentially but have an asymptotic tail, so that a blood test could confirm quickly if levels dropped off quickly, but urine tests would stay positive for weeks since their threshold of hCG detection are low compared to the asymptotic tail. I liked that the blood test could tell me within a few days and I wouldn't have to deal with the suspense of not knowing. However, blood tests may be expensive depending on your insurance, and are not available in many places.
On day 0, I took the mifepristone first thing in the morning, on an empty stomach with water. The doctor said I should not expect symptoms from it, and I didn't really besides feeling hot and extra fatigued in the afternoon, but those were also symptoms I'd been slightly feeling from pregnancy. I went and got my blood test. About 24 hours afterwards, I started spotting slightly.
On day 1, I had a full lunch and then took a zofran and ibuprofen at 12 pm. I skipped the oxy since I heard that it may worsen nausea. I was very nervous from reading about people suffering through diarrhea and vomiting at the same time, and I really didn't want to puke. In hindsight, I may not have needed the zofran and it might have worsened my diarrhea, but it definitely made me feel less scared about puking.
At 1 pm I placed the 4 misoprostol pills in my cheeks, laid down in bed with a towel under my butt, and half an hour later I swallowed the pills. They had no strong or bad flavor, but the texture was chalky and annoying to swallow. The cramps began pretty quickly and lightly -- I had already been feeling light cramps during the pregnancy and the day before, so it wasn't anything crazy. They gradually worsened to a level equivalent to the second day of a period for me. It was fine since I was just lying in bed with a heating pad and not doing anything important, but it would suck if I had to be at work like during my period. My fingertips got a little itchy, but that sensation went away after a while. I got intensely hungry around 2:30-3 and ate some food -- though hunger was another weird pregnancy symptom I'd already been experiencing.
By 5:30 the cramps were intense and terrible. I also had really bad diarrhea throughout the late afternoon, which may have been worsened by the zofran. Part of the pain was probably also intestinal since I was having such bad diarrhea. Everything that was coming out was pretty much liquid, worse than my normal period diarrhea. This hour sucked. It helped when my partner would squeeze my arm to distract from the pain.
By 6:15 the cramps were subsiding a bit and I felt like I could breathe. It comes in waves, just like normal period cramps, but slightly more intense. I was grateful that all of the pain was dull and there was no sharp stabbing pain. I also got hungry very frequently throughout the day, and I ate a burger for dinner.
At 9:00 I was still feeling cramps, but not as bad as the late afternoon. At 11:30 I found a tiny pomegranate-seed blob on my pad, but I'm not sure if it was really the sac or if I just assumed it was because I was really hoping to find it. It honestly could have been just a normal blood clot. The blood throughout the day had been more watery and less clotty than a normal period. I had been expecting big clots but the few clots that did come out were all smaller than my normal period. Everything pretty much got absorbed to the bottom of the pad, whereas during my normal periods the blood has more solid clots and mucus that causes it to stay on the surface of the pad. I suspect that the ibuprofen slowed down the clot/tissue release, because I've noticed that happens if I take ibuprofen during my period.
When I went to bed around midnight, I was very bloated but much more relaxed. In the morning I had a ton of gas (more than during my period) but felt pretty good otherwise and was able to go about my day normally. I had relatively light bleeding, with mild cramping.
On day 3 I was bleeding much more heavily and also had bad period-day-2 level cramps. From 12-3 pm I was gushing blood, heavier flow than I'm used to. I changed my pad once every hour. It was more mucusy and clotty, like my normal periods, whereas the previous two days the blood was watery. I also had period-level diarrhea. I did my second blood test, and my hCG had dropped to about 17% compared to day 0 levels, so the doctor confirmed that everything had worked successfully!
Since then, I've been bleeding like I do on the third day of my period, except at that level for several days straight, with light cramping that has gradually faded. Today we're at Day 9 and the bleeding seems to be trickling to a stop! The cramps have completely stopped.
If you are going through a medicated abortion, please know that you are not alone, and it's okay if you're nervous. Feel free to ask me any questions!

My family has always been of great minds. I hated it. Growing up and having to study day and night to try and live up to them was extremely exhausting when I couldn't care how things worked as long as I was happy. I gave up but somehow everything kept turning out to be true.
Over my lifetime I have become the Gorden Ramsey of the science world. Known for my temper and also for huge things like curing world hunger using play-doe and cancer with baby powder I got in a back street ally while drunk.
To get my family off my back I started making random ideas so they could see me as a failure and leave me alone but...they keep working. And soon people started to praise me. Fame has left me with nothing but more and more attention. So today I plan to make sure that everyone can just think I'm insane and leave me alone and not some king.
I chuckled like a kid who was opening a Christmas present as I heard the crowd of people chatting and talking loudly as I hid behind my stage in a grey tight suit that my sister had picked out. I sighed and was ready to walk out and make a fool out of myself but my brother stopped me.
" Jack... I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Dad would have loved to see you right now. "
I thought it was ironic because last night while chilling on the couch watching TV and eating chips I made this theory up. He dusted off my shoulders held them tight and looked me in the eyes taking in the moment.
" go give them hell man. "
He had a goofy smile just like Dad but spoke with confidence.
" you got it, man. "
I heard my name being called onto the stage and the uproar startled me for a second but I collected myself and headed out after giving him a nod just to entertain him.
The lights were blinding as I grabbed the mic and looked at the table in front of me with a small box with the ingredients I needed and a chalkboard behind me.
After I stood still for a minute the crowd died down. I had not told anyone what I was presenting so the whole world was watching without a clue of what I was doing this time.
"Hello everyone. Today I believe I have my most important presentation yet..."
The crowd grew silent and hung on every word. And I heard my voice around the room through the speakers.
" Today I have with me a box...and inside is spaghetti I had for breakfast. "
The crowd laughed thinking it was a joke
" shut up "
The crowd grew silent once more
"Behind me is a chalkboard and I will now present my new findings to all of you...I have found out how to make portals to other worlds. "
A man in the far back of the audience yelled bullshit in a heavy Indian accent but he was so far it was a faint sound for me. I smiled at that thinking I had finally found something that would make me lose my title and I could go ahead and live a life without people making me feel like an evil man for not helping others.
I opened the box got a handful of the noodles and threw them at the chalkboard. I then grabbed a paper towel on standby to clean myself.
The noodles hit the board and slowly moved and rested on a spot on the board. I made eye contact with my brother backstage and he had a look on his face showing he believed in me.
I spun the board dropping the noodles to the ground I then grabbed the chalk and drew around the sauce and noodles that stuck to the board then drew my attention to the others that had fallen on the floor and drew an outline of that.
After it finished I threw the chalk in the crowd violently hitting an old lady in the face.
" Quickly I want a show of hands who thinks I'm a crazy guy "
Everyone raised their hands and I laughed to myself
I then went behind the board and laid it horizontally. I grabbed a small knife in my pocket and poked my finger with it. The crimson blood fell and hit the chalk and then as more and more blood hit the chalk it started glowing.
" you have got to be joking. "
I said out loud as it started to spark an orange glow and it slowly grew color to the rest of the chalk in orange sparks.
Once the symbol was fully sparking with orange the sauce began to swell and move around in a counterclockwise manner. I stepped away from it in shock as small parts of the blood in my finger began to float to the parts where it fell on the floor I drew my outlines on and started sparking those as well.
It started to smoke and hiss as if lightning could whisper and the orange began to take shape and the sauce made a doorway. The parts that were not on the board began to grow ice around them and started to make designs on the floor circling me and the board. Suddenly it grew in size and a large booming voice was heard through the portal as I felt panic of people start to set in.
A huge claw came out and scrapped the sides of my table trying to crawl out from the world it had been trapped in. Cold winds hit me as they cut my skin and threw around my clothes. As I saw the table was now melting from its touch.
A slimy green claw with mucus like a face-hugger egg from the movie Alien carved through the floor and pulled the rest of its body out slowly. A beast stood at 12 feet tall adjusting to our world as goop grew and shaped its body as people screamed, ran, and stood frozen in fear.
As it looked around it locked its spider-like eyes and swerled around coming out from the portal and twisting and turning around the body as it made its way to its head finding a place to rest. It then locked its eyes with me and its jaw twisted slowly from an ant-like maw to mine and slowly shrunk and it soon took the shape of me and knelt on the floor and spoke to me.
" master. "
I stood in shock as everyone seemed to calm down and watched to see what I would do.
"...umm "My family has always been of great minds. I hated it. Growing up and having to study day and night to try and live up to them was extremely exhausting when I couldn't care how things worked as long as I was happy. I gave up but somehow everything kept turning out to be true.
Over my lifetime I have become the Gorden Ramsey of the science world. Known for my temper and also for huge things like curing world hunger using play-doe and cancer with baby powder I got in a back street ally while drunk.
To get my family off my back I started making random ideas so they could see me as a failure and leave me alone but...they keep working. And soon people started to praise me. Fame has left me with nothing but more and more attention. So today I plan to make sure that everyone can just think I'm insane and leave me alone and not some king.
I chuckled like a kid who was opening a Christmas present as I heard the crowd of people chatting and talking loudly as I hid behind my stage in a grey tight suit that my sister had picked out. I sighed and was ready to walk out and make a fool out of myself but my brother stopped me.
" Jack... I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Dad would have loved to see you right now. "
I thought it was ironic because last night while chilling on the couch watching TV and eating chips I made this theory up. He dusted off my shoulders held them tight and looked me in the eyes taking in the moment.
" go give them hell man. "
He had a goofy smile just like Dad but spoke with confidence.
" you got it, man. "
I heard my name being called onto the stage and the uproar startled me for a second but I collected myself and headed out after giving him a nod just to entertain him.
The lights were blinding as I grabbed the mic and looked at the table in front of me with a small box with the ingredients I needed and a chalkboard behind me.
After I stood still for a minute the crowd died down. I had not told anyone what I was presenting so the whole world was watching without a clue of what I was doing this time.
"Hello everyone. Today I believe I have my most important presentation yet..."
The crowd grew silent and hung on every word. And I heard my voice around the room through the speakers.
" Today I have with me a box...and inside is spaghetti I had breakfast. "
The crowd laughed thinking it was a joke
" shut up "
The crowd grew silent once more
"Behind me is a chalkboard and I will now present my new findings to all of you...I have found out how to make portals to other worlds. "
A man in the far back of the audience yelled bullshit in a heavy Indian accent but he was so far it was a faint sound for me. I smiled at that thinking I had finally found something that would make me lose my title and I could go ahead and live a life without people making me feel like an evil man for not helping others.
I opened the box got a handful of the noodles and threw them at the chalkboard. I then grabbed a paper towel on standby to clean myself.
The noodles hit the board and slowly moved and rested on a spot on the board. I made eye contact with my brother backstage and he had a look on his face showing he believed in me.
I spun the board dropping the noodles to the ground I then grabbed the chalk and drew around the sauce and noodles that stuck to the board then drew my attention to the others that had fallen on the floor and drew an outline of that.
After it finished I threw the chalk in the crowd violently hitting an old lady in the face.
" Quickly I want a show of hands who thinks I'm a crazy guy "
Everyone raised their hands and I laughed to myself
I then went behind the board and laid it horizontally. I grabbed a small knife in my pocket and poked my finger with it. The crimson blood fell and hit the chalk and then as more and more blood hit the chalk it started glowing.
" you have got to be joking. "
I said out loud as it started to spark an orange glow and it slowly grew color to the rest of the chalk in orange sparks.
Once the symbol was fully sparking with orange the sauce began to swell and move around in a counterclockwise manner. I stepped away from it in shock as small parts of the blood in my finger began to float to the parts where it fell on the floor I drew my outlines on and started sparking those as well.
It started to smoke and hiss as if lightning could whisper and the orange began to take shape and the sauce made a doorway. The parts that were not on the board began to grow ice around them and started to make designs on the floor circling me and the board. Suddenly it grew in size and a large booming voice was heard through the portal as I felt panic of people start to set in.
A huge claw came out and scrapped the sides of my table trying to crawl out from the world it had been trapped in. Cold winds hit me as they cut my skin and threw around my clothes. As I saw the table was now melting from its touch.
A slimy green claw with mucus like a face-hugger egg from the movie Alien carved through the floor and pulled the rest of its body out slowly. A beast stood at 12 feet tall adjusting to our world as goop grew and shaped its body as people screamed, ran, and stood frozen in fear.
As it looked around it locked its spider-like eyes and swerled around coming out from the portal and twisting and turning around the body as it made its way to its head finding a place to rest. It then locked its eyes with me and its jaw twisted slowly from an ant-like maw to mine and slowly shrunk and it soon took the shape of me and knelt on the floor and spoke to me.
" master. "
I stood in shock as everyone seemed to calm down and watched to see what I would do.

"...umm "

Part two of the noodle demon.
Now that this creature knelt before me I realized that the room I was in was so terrible quietly you could hear everyone's ass get tight in anticipation of what would happen next.
" ...what...are you. "
I spoke carefully to the being that had taken the shape of myself. It still took my breath away and my throat was dry.
The beast was a deep green. The color mixed with shades of grey streaming from it. The longer I looked at it I could see it getting closer to what I looked like shaping itself.
From small flowing green tendrils to an arm they grew as they twisted and made bone then muscle and finally skin.
It locked eyes with me and it smiled deeply at me. As it formed the face finally.
" Your vassle. "
My eyes had not moved to the crowd at all but even though the lights hit the stage so hard it was enveloped in smoke.
The creature's eyes glowed as it answered brightly, not figuratively. This thing's eyes were glowing.
"To serve you, We are bound by blood magic. I am a reflection of your desires, Master, " it said, its voice now a whisper in my mind.
It began to stand up as my grey suit began to form on it and by the time it stood fully up it had copied what I looked like.
" let me explain everything. "
My body frozen in fear woke up with adrenaline as I blinked and a flash of green smoke covered my vision as he teleported right to me face to face.
Its body turned to smoke and went into the slits of my eyes. I felt visions follow me in my peripheral vision but surprisingly no pain followed power filled me and it felt like one hell of a drug.
My body and mind altered.
I was now in a very dark place with no walls or light except my reflection on the floor which waved like water.
I took a step back looking around and back to the reflection of me on the ground.
Soon the water rippled and my reflection fell through the floor like gravity was inverted. he flew upright and water fell off of him as he looked at me as he now stood straight ahead of me. He was just reflecting in the water but now eyed me down.
Collecting my nerves.
I begin to speak.
" what do you want..."
He was still in my form and stood perfectly straight. Now with water dripping from his...my hair.
Slight stubble with hair that hung down and my hazel eyes were not present within him but I was greeted with a swelling acidic green that doubled the size of my pupil.
" to serve you. "
He made no other movement than putting his hands behind his back like a soldier at ease.
I could not tell if it was lying or not.
" ...is that it? "
" I am the embodiment of your fear desires and brilliance. You have shaped me. Your desire for solitude birthed me. I will aid you in shaping the world how you see fit. Your reality becomes mine. "
There was a slight echo in the room as he spoke.
" wait...where are we "
I questioned haphazardly
" your mind. "
An awkward silence was in the air until I spoke
" so...am I just standing on the stage not making a sound? "
He gave me a concerned look.
" no...time has frozen outside for you. You may sleep here without having to in the real world so to others you look as if you never rest and you may think and plan what to do in battle here. For them, it will be about two seconds...Do...do you not have any knowledge of what I am? "
Suddenly I felt bad like I had encountered someone famous and I had no idea who they were. A slap in the face like a popular kid meeting someone who had never heard of them. Ego shattered.
" ok sorry no. I...don't go around reading about...monsters?"
I felt like was I saying the n-word of the demon realm not knowing if that word was offensive.
He folded his arms a little upset.
"Are you not a warrior? "
" well...no I...just watch TV and cook here and there- "
The demon cut me off
" weak. "
" excuse me? "
" look. I am an immortal being and after a while you get bored. So I'm sorry if I may be a little upset after being bonded with some nobody. "
I got quiet and I was a little annoyed that I was being roasted by some demon that I just met.
Its form wavers and eyes begin to open on its skin. Cheeks forhead etc.
"After being a god for so long it's fun to play with limitations. Makes things extremely exciting. "
" what do you mean by that? "
" look. You can only be so entertained by the same things. Life gets boring and now...you are going to help me with this. I get to have pure entertainment while you get every wish you could ever want. A mutual bond no? "
He then closed his eyes annoyed and the other eyes meshed back to his skin.
" though... the TV is not that interesting...life is what gets the blood pumping"
I felt the need to quickly change the topic
"Are there others like you? "
The room began to take shape very slowly as the water floor turned to wood and walls went around us.
" of course. You may meet them one day "
Confused and curious I pressed.
"Meet them? "
" yes. Summoning one of us is considered a threat to them. "
He spoke while opening and closing his newly found hand except backward.
" hm...no that don't look right "
I quickly responded
" Wait! How is doing that a threat! "
"Well, one doesn't just accidentally Summon one of us to suddenly get powers beyond human control. "
I thought back to how I summoned him by accident with some food I made.
" well...funny story but I summoned you using my breakfast..."
I had never regretted speaking so much as in that moment.
" What... "
Acid dripped from his words. Literally. His pupils split in half and his bottom jaw ripped open like an ant and curved giving sharpness to the bone.
"Please don't kill me. "
The room began to look like a cozy cabin with a fireplace and he slowly went back to normal.
" I would if I could. I've never felt so disrespected. We are bonded by your blood. If you die...I die. "
Suddenly I felt at ease by this new information.
Then a thought came to my mind
" ...God's can die? "
" you did hear me, right? "
The SAS from this guy was unneeded and I was starting to miss him being on his knees as weird as that sounds.
" so...all that power gone.... in an instant... "
" well...no actually God's powers don't just disappear they transfer to whoever killed them...wait...hold up."
He suddenly had an epiphany.
A smile grew on his face and he grabbed my shoulders
" you! You are going to help me kill the other gods! "
He sounded proud but I let him down.
" ha! No. "
" oh come on! Don't be like that. "
He did a pout.
"Look, man. I'm not killing gods for you. Just because you are bored. "
" hey...they might send people to kill you because you bonded with me. "
"What did I ever do to them? "
"They have a system to this stuff. They like to build and watch things play out. You're a problem. That can mess it up. So...they kill ya...to be honest, I don't know any other way to explain it, man. You know people normally just use my power to kill people and become a king and know this already. "
"This is outrageous. "
" bro. Look if you do this I will be able to get their powers and you will be able to do so much more than what I offer "
I tilted my head
" what can you do? Know what never mind. I will just talk to them and figure things out. "
He groaned and his form melted down sagging and it shot back up reforming
"Is there not anything that you want? Anything in the world? Gods don't put themselves in physical forms. They give people power and can make beings to hunt you. And if they care enough to come down themself. Ha, good luck."
I stopped and thought about it trying to weigh the options of pissing off higher beings.
Suddenly. I found something.
"Can you bring back the dead..."
He stopped confused.
" well...no "
" then I don't want anything "
" wait! "
He threw his arms out pleading
"I don't...but another God does..."
He crosses his arms smiling. He had left the question hanging letting me reconsider his offer.
I stopped and thought for a while before looking back up to him.
I let out a sigh and looked him in the eyes
" ok...you are going to help me get my father back. "
The demon smirked.

See my last post for context. So I saw a coloproctologist in Rio soon after that post who confirmed it was combined, one internal and one external thrombosed. Dr had me take daflon and ibuprofen for a few days (didn't need this or any pain killers after a couple days of seeing him). 1 week later I went to a follow up before my flights back to the US (that wasn't fun at all but I survived), and Dr seemed pretty adamant that I needed hemorrhoidectomy and suggested finding a colorectal surgeon when I was back. Basically it's now 4 weeks since the initial flareup and the externals have definitely shrunk a little and don't hurt at all, and the internal (which Dr said was a grade 3 though I can't actually put them back in myself, so maybe actually grade 4) is also mainly innocuous except for mucus, mucus, constant mucus drainage. It's annoying and very inconvenient, as I basically have to clean/replace napkins or wipes that I tuck between my cheeks 24/7. Rarely any blood at all, and none for 1-2 weeks in stool, poops are nice and soft and painless. I get that I need surgery to fully get my my asshole back to normal, but I am unemployed and a traveling nomad for at least the next few months, and I'm waiting until I am either back in the US or am somewhere where I can stay put for a few months to ride out the recovery. Atm (thankfully) I'm just dealing with the discharge and I'm wondering if anyone others have similar experience of just living with the discharge and/or whether in their experience the leakage slows down or stops over a longer period of time.

Allergies, with their sneezes, sniffles, and other annoying symptoms, can significantly impact daily life. Ayurveda, an ancient holistic healing system from India, offers natural and effective ways to manage and even beat allergies. Here are some Ayurvedic "cheat codes" to help you understand and mitigate allergic reactions.

Understanding Allergies in Ayurveda

In Ayurveda, allergies are often linked to an imbalance in the doshas (Vata, Pitta, and Kapha). Each dosha represents different bodily functions and elements:

• Vata (Air and Space): Imbalance may cause dryness and sensitivity, leading to respiratory allergies.
• Pitta (Fire and Water): Imbalance can result in inflammation and skin reactions.
• Kapha (Water and Earth): Imbalance might cause congestion and mucus buildup.

Understanding your dominant dosha and its current state of balance can help tailor specific treatments for your allergies.

1. Dietary Adjustments:

Diet plays a crucial role in maintaining dosha balance. Here are some dietary tips for each dosha to combat allergies:
Vata Imbalance

• Warm, moist foods: Stews, soups, and cooked vegetables.
• Herbs and spices: Ginger, cinnamon, and cardamom to aid digestion and circulation.
• Avoid: Cold, dry, and raw foods that can aggravate Vata.

Pitta Imbalance

• Cooling foods: Cucumbers, melons, and leafy greens.
• Herbs and spices: Coriander, mint, and fennel to reduce inflammation.
• Avoid: Spicy, oily, and fried foods that can increase Pitta.

Kapha Imbalance

• Light, dry foods: Barley, millet, and apples.
• Herbs and spices: Turmeric, black pepper, and basil to reduce mucus.
• Avoid: Dairy, sweets, and heavy foods that can exacerbate Kapha.

2. Herbal Remedies:

Ayurvedic herbs are potent allies in managing allergies:

• Turmeric: Known for its anti-inflammatory and antihistamine properties. Add it to warm milk or tea.
• Tulsi (Holy Basil): Helps in respiratory relief. Brew it as tea or chew fresh leaves.
• Neem: Excellent for skin allergies. Use neem oil or apply neem paste on the affected area.
• Licorice root: Soothes the respiratory tract. Take it as tea or a supplement.

3. Nasya Therapy

Nasya therapy involves administering herbal oils through the nasal passages, which can be highly effective for allergies, especially those affecting the respiratory system.

• Anu Taila or Shadbindu Taila: These herbal oils can be used daily. Lie down and administer a few drops in each nostril.
• Steam Inhalation: Add eucalyptus or peppermint oil to hot water and inhale the steam to clear nasal passages.

4. Pranayama and Yoga

Breathing exercises (Pranayama) and specific yoga poses can strengthen the respiratory system and reduce stress, which can trigger allergic reactions. These techniques are often taught in-depth during Yoga Teacher Training in India, making them beneficial for personal practice and for teaching others.

• Nadi Shodhana (Alternate Nostril Breathing): Balances the doshas and calms the mind.
• Kapalabhati (Skull Shining Breath): Clears nasal passages and boosts lung capacity.
• Yoga Poses: Fish pose (Matsyasana), Cobra pose (Bhujangasana), and Bridge pose (Setu Bandhasana) help open the chest and improve breathing.

These practices are often included in a 200 hour yoga teacher training program, providing a comprehensive understanding of their benefits and techniques.

5. Lifestyle Adjustments

Incorporating certain lifestyle habits can prevent allergies and support overall well-being:

• Regular Detoxification: Seasonal cleansing with Panchakarma can help eliminate toxins that may trigger allergies.
• Adequate Sleep: Ensuring 7-8 hours of restful sleep supports the immune system.
• Hydration: Drink plenty of warm water to keep the body hydrated and flush out allergens.
• Stress Management: Practices like meditation and spending time in nature can reduce stress and improve immune function.

6. Avoidance and Environmental Control

Minimizing exposure to allergens is crucial:

• Keep your home clean: Dust and vacuum regularly to reduce allergens.
• Use air purifiers: Especially in the bedroom to ensure clean air while sleeping.
• Wash bedding in hot water: To kill dust mites and remove allergens.
• Shower after being outdoors: To remove pollen and other allergens from your skin and hair.

Ayurveda offers a comprehensive and natural approach to managing allergies by focusing on balancing the body's doshas, utilizing dietary changes, herbal remedies, and lifestyle modifications. By understanding your body's unique constitution and implementing these Ayurvedic cheat codes, you can significantly reduce the frequency and severity of allergic reactions and enjoy a healthier, more balanced life.
Remember, while these tips can be highly effective, it's always a good idea to consult with an Ayurvedic practitioner to create a personalized plan that suits your specific needs. If you're interested in deepening your knowledge, consider enrolling in a yoga teacher training in India, where you can learn these practices and more in a traditional setting.

Symptoms
Internal fever 101 - external temperature is 98 Cough almost dry Dried lips Sweating at night/over heating in the inside Mucus buildup Blood back of my throat because to much coughing Sore throat At the beginning bone hurt not anymore Ear every time I swallow I hear and feel like bubble popping Peeing almost 30m It been a week I am still sick. And it seem very contagious I gave it to everyone in my family except for the cat.
Is not Covid because I don’t have the other symptoms.
Thank you in advance and have a nice day.

Hi all,
I have been struggling with many issues since my 3rd Covid infection last November.
In late March, I began experiencing extreme mental and physical fatigue, nauseau, and light sensitivity that lead me to more or less being in a dark room 24/7 for 3 weeks.This then began to include severe facial pain, localized to my left cheek and upper jaw. The migraine is not painful - it's more like a frontal head pressure that messes with my vision and causes sensitivity to light. Also since February, I've had SEVERE nose bleeds and blood clots in my left nostril that predate the migraines, fatigue, and brain fog.
I was diagnosed with complex migraine disorder and placed on anti-CGRP meds. It helped with some things, but made me crazy constipated and exasperated my pre-existing facial pain and neuropathy. I was told the "sinus" issues and pain were migraine, not sinuses. Things really began to improve when my allergist/immunologist put me on Ryaltris.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago and my doctor finally ordered an MRI. My brain is fine, but they found a massive infection on the left side:
"There is circumferential mucusal thickening and complete heterogenously T2 hyperintense opacification of the left maxillary sinus. The central portion of the left maxillary sinus markedly restricts diffusion restriction, suggesting purulence/bacterial infection. The martoid air cells are clear."
My question is - what steps do I need to take now? I'm allergic to most antibiotics so I don't know what to do. Is it possible the migraine, light sensitivity, and fatigue I have experienced were caused by this infection? I am hoping it's the answer to all this health issues, but I just don't know when exactly the infection began.

An Interlude To Coming Chaos

2050-04-25 

The boy-that-had-become-an-Emperor touched the cold, withered hand of the bedridden old man. Glancing at the sleeping face of the King, Hisahito felt tears welling in his eyes. “Grandfather,” he murmured softly, choking back sobs.
“I’m home.”

I am in the graceful rush, of far off birds
In circling flight.
I am the Starshine of the night.

Carl opened his eyes and smiled. “About damn time,” the man said, good-naturedly. He glanced at the two Witnesses that had been flanking his bedside. “I don’t suppose I could ask you boys for some help?”
The Jew and Greek nodded, each man taking one of Carl’s arms and lifting him out of the hospital bed. They took a short moment to steady the old man, eventually allowing him to stand on his own two feet.
“Oh that feels good!” Carl exclaimed, deeply surprised. “I feel younger than I have in years.” The former King turned back for a short moment, glancing at the weeping frame of the Emperor of Japan. “Will the boy be alright?” he asked, giving them a concerned look.
“With enough time,” Dolikhós stated. “But you need no longer concern yourself with that eventuality. You will have time immeasurable, whereas his shall remain finite.”
Carl nodded. “I suppose I was always going to leave him behind,” the former monarch said. “But hopefully I leave him in good hands.”
““His Faith is yet to be tested,” Joseph replied. “His Empire is one built on countless deaths and immeasurable decay. He has joined his flesh to the Whore of Babylon, and his servants carry out atrocities immeasurable without his knowing.” The Jew’s expression grew hard. “It remains to be seen if his spirit will escape the flames of the coming Judgement.”
“A shame,” Carl murmured. “When I told him to bring me plenty of Japanese grandchildren, I never expected he’d go there. So I feel a little responsible for his predicament.”
“When he looks upon the face of his Creator, he cannot say ‘But I was told by others to do thus’ or that ‘virtue was not convenient at the time’,” Dolikhós stated. “But that will be his burden to bear, not yours.”

M: Credit, King_of_anything, "Angels of Mercy: The King is Dead", (/Worldpowers: April 27, 2022).

YEAR UNKNOWN 

He held his hand out, the sound of crashing water at his feet the first thing he noticed as the lifting fog revealed a never ending coastline of sand and surf. If not for the man, tall and with snow-white hair standing further along the water's edge he would have been stuck in a daze, transfixed in his position.
"What's wrong, my boy?" The high-Swedish rolled off the old man's tongue so cleanly, not like it had when the old King's ragged breath dared each word that was uttered all those decades ago. "You coming over here?"
How could he refuse? Even in his shock, his eyes growing wide for just a moment, he could not help his body moving forward. "I know this is just a dream." The first words he had said upon waking in this world. "An illusion...one my mind and memories have created for me."
His own words, danced across the water in it's accented creole, a Scandinavian language born amidst the rise of the Nordic state. Yet he knew the old man would have no trouble understanding him.
"What's this? So sure of what you see now, so quick to logic." The old man was far more emotive now than he ever had been, years spent with the energetic Princess would do that to a man, after all. "But to think you'd reign so long with your responsibility...even signs of aging, too much stress it seems." It wasn't surprise, but an appreciation that now glowed across the old man's face as he stepped closer.
"Life continues...even as those around us pass on." It was the man's turn now for contemplation. "Perhaps...I've changed, certainly...I've made mistakes, so much needless suffering..."
The old man's face softened in sadness, as he looked into the eyes of the man before him who had in times long past, stood before him as a boy, so unsure of himself.
"The one thing I can say, though...is that it's still not my time to stand alongside you." The man's face lit up as a wave of determination crashed over him. "Because I reckon...that the sufferings of this present time, will not be worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed to us."
A smile broke across the old man's face, as he recognized the Romans passage now being spoken to him. And as the two stared at one another, eyes meeting as equals for the first time, they both in this world of a dream found themselves distracted for a moment as a boy ran between them.
"Besides, he..." The man looked to the boy now running in the distance. "He's not yet ready for this journey."
"I see." The old man smiled, a recognition shared by those with the same experiences. "Then I, as merely a dream in passing, shall dare to ask this...Hisahito, has your journey been fulfilling thus far?" The old man's smile reached from ear to ear, as he saw the faintest of tears begin to well up on the man's face.
"Yeah." The Emperor of Japan's tears began to fall, as a smile crept onto his own face. "Of course...Grandfather."

TRANSCRIPT: A World Only He Sees

DIRECT IMPERIAL COMMUNICATION

RECORDED: December 2nd, 2069 - Continued Excerpts

CLASSIFIED

On record participants

His Imperial Majesty - Hisahito
Her Imperial Majesty - Viktoria
His Imperial Highness - Masahito
Her Imperial Highness - Kyōko
Her Imperial Highness - Alice
Secretary of the Interior - Ishida Tori
Secretary of Foreign Affairs - Kamisato Ayaka
Secretary of Stability - Jirō
Imperial Liaison of the IGH - Ijūin Gorō
Ret. Prime Minister Ishikawa Rei
Ret. Prime Minister Nakano Kanna
Ret. Prime Minister Forusutā Furokku
Ret. Minister for Foreign Affairs Jacqueline Reid
Prime Minister (OCE) - Steve Lachlan
Ret. Prime Minister (UNSC) Sanna Marin

 Minutes 48:00 to 56:00 

Kamisato: With everyone now back from the recess, let us please welcome retired Prime Minister of the UNSC, and personal friend to many of us, Sanna Marin to the meeting.
Kamisato: Sanna Marin will be acting as our UNSC representative, with approval from the broader Council.
NOTE: Greetings and niceties shared for over 2 minutes.
Kamisato: Despite the misgivings of some of those in this room, and the disputes over the intention, the Alfheim Question is only part of the reason we all have been summoned here today.
Kyōko: And what would be that second part? Normally we get a briefing for everything, so what gives?
Kamisato: Yes, your Highness, normally briefings are issued for all talking points of Imperial Council meetings. However, in this instance, His Imperial Majesty requested that no briefing be issued.
NOTE: Room gets quiet, gazes noticeably turn towards His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Japan. Her Imperial Highness the Empress Viktoria is noted as requesting and being denied a brief conversation in private with His Imperial Majesty.
Masahito: Well, Father?
Hisahito: Following discussions with both Jirō and Ishikawa, I have determined that it is time for Japan to temporarily end our period of self-isolation.
Alice: About time! This is wonderful news, finally, maybe we can even begin opening up visa-restricted travel...
Lachlan: I have to agree with Her Imperial Highness, the Princess Alice on this matter.
NOTE: Hisahito holds up his hand, for silence.
Hisahito: That is not...why we are ending the self imposed isolation. But, I believe it is best that I allow Jirō to explain.
Jirō: Thank you. As His Imperial Majesty has stated, the time for our period of isolation has come to an end, if only temporarily. However, while the recent Alfheimr revelations are worrying, certainly. They pale in comparison to recent events that have...struck like a shockwave, and have been compounded by the increasing evidence being presented to the Ministry of Stability.
Ishida Tori: And what exactly are these shockwaves, that are so strong and yet have not been felt by my own office in the Interior?
Jirō: I was getting to that. If you all would recall, it has come to our attention that the Houston Republic leaving our axis of influence...was not just a consequence of an erratic President Jones. A review of the incident by my office, had already led us towards a possible conclusion. However, it was confirmed when, only a month ago, forces of the Imperial Buccaneers encountered and then subsequently captured foreign special services on one of our inter-solar system asteroid mines.
Reid: What State are these supposed operatives said to belong too? And how did none of our offices here of this? Gorō did the IGH know about this?
Gorō: No, Ma'am. This is the first I or anyone in the IGH is hearing of this, I assure you.
Jirō: It was kept under wraps...we had no choice, given the revelations.
Alice: And what revelation would that be?
Jirō: There is an international plot to bring down the Empire, the Canadians, the Bandung, Caliphate, the Russians, and yes...even Alfheim...all involved.
NOTE: Unintelligible uproar lasts for approx 6 minutes.

 Minutes 76:00 to 80:00 

Nakano: So, Your Imperial Majesty, what does this mean? We've seen plots before, we've been the subject of them...Ishikawa knows that better than any of us.
Hisahito: We are not coming out of isolation to reopen ourselves to the world.
Alice: Then what?
Hisahito: We are coming out of isolation to end this plot, and those behind it.
Ishikawa: No weak links.

Put to Rest: The Death of Dederick Von Lohengrin

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, in a ZEHST-1
There was a storm over the Pacific, one not unnatural for this time of the year, it was after all, late December. And as the King of Europe looked out the window of this magnificent flying whale, he couldn't help but speculate why he was flying, alone for that matter to the Empire of Japan. It was his sister who called him, said it was a special occasion, a surprise party for his favorite niece because of some promotion. Apparently, her husband had words that also needed to be shared privately, and that is what had been not sitting well in his mind. But, he knew he was safe, his people back in Wewelsburg knew why and where he was going.
"Pilot, how long until we get there?" Dederick found it odd as he looked out his window, seeing the Academy pass so far below the ZEHST. He found it even odder, when the lights in the cabin dimmed and the Pilot, gave no response. Getting out of his seat, the turbulence was almost enough to send him crashing back into his chair. Steadying himself as he walked along the dimly lit pathway towards the cockpit, he couldn't help but feel as if he was in some fever dream.
"Pilot, do you not answer the Aesir when he calls?" Dederick opened the door to the cockpit, the rain crashing on the vast windows now before him. "What the fu..."
His mouth dropped open, sitting facing him, a hologram of his sister.
"Hello...brother mine." Viktoria's words felt like shards of ice, even if she wasn't actually there.
"Sister, what is going on?" Dederick had never felt panic, it wasn't in his genetic makeup. But, he could feel a pit growing in his stomach, like a cancer, as he looked at his sister.
"I did try...I promise you. But, this was the best I could do." Viktoria had tears streaming down her cheeks. "There was no other choice...it was this, or..."
Her voice trailed off as she recollected her thoughts..."Officially, it will be listed as an accident. A freak storm over the Pacific, maybe, remnants of earlier cloud seeding in the season. But I will know the truth, others will too, one day..."
"Viktoria, what are you talking about?" Dederick's voice betrayed himself, growing increasingly shrill as colors he'd never seen before began to appear outside the aircraft.
"I'm sorry, little brother." Viktoria closed her eyes as she turned once more to face her brother. "But...this is goodbye. The Empire will be in good hands, I promise."
The next thing Dederick knew, he was being thrust to the floor as explosions began to sound off across the aircraft.

Take the Hand: The Betrayal of the Russian goliath

Tenkyō, the Imperial Capital / / Approximately 20 minutes after conference
There was a cool wind blowing through the streets of the Imperial Capital, it was reminiscent of home for the retired Nordic Prime Minister, certainly should have been refreshing. And yet, Sanna Marin's hands still had tremors, her forehead for the first time in a long time, twitching with anxiety as she held the phone to her ear waiting for the caller to pick up on the other side.
"Hello? Sanna? Are you there?" It was the voice of a once younger Finn whose sing-song Creole danced across the lines of the phone "How did things go, what was so important they needed one of us there today?"
"Emmi...it's bad." Sanna's voice broke as she continued walking towards the car, waiting for her.
"What happened in there? is everything all right? Are you okay?" Emmi's voice raised as she strained to hear the retired Prime Minister over the wind and city traffic.
"The Emperor...he's..." Sanna gulped, her mouth so dry making it a struggle. "He's gone mad."
Sanna nearly hit her head as she tucked into the car, everything was twisting now from her stomach to her mind.
"I've gotta get back to the UNSC, things are about to get out of hand..." Sanna continued on, Emmi trying her best to get even a single word in.
"What are you talking about? Sanna you haven't told me what happened, is the Emperor ok? Was there an attack?" Emmi was basically yelling now as the confusion became audible.
Sanna had finally gotten to sit down, as the car spun off to the nearest Diplomats airport. Her own breathing, slowing now, as she closed her eyes for a moment.
"They are coming after it all." Sanna's hand was calm now, the tremor abating as her instincts kicked in. "The Alfr, Russia, the Caliphate...even the Pact."
"Woah, woah...what do you mean? Is there going to be war?" Sanna could tell that Emmi was beginning to kick into high gear, she could hear more than one conversation in the background as the UNSC's administrator began making calls.
"Apparently there was an attack, about a month ago on some Japanese asteroid base. Said the Bandung had something to do with it, conspiring with the Alfr of all people?" Sanna's words seemed unbelievable, even to herself as one who heard it all. "I don't think there is going to be war...but, the sun is rising, I can see it."
"I'll gather the councils...someone needs to tell Valdemar." Emmi's voice was equally somber now, as the realizations began to set in.
"I'm not sure what's going to happen...but, I do know that I'd hate to be the Nusantarans right about now." Sanna shook her head, mourning what was to come.

Go ahead, Roar: But we've got a Railgun pointed at you're Heart

The SPS Nusantara Embassy in Tenkyō, The Imperial Capital of Japan
Sometime after the Conference
It was quiet in the office, or maybe its just how every Japanese office seemed to operate. It was hard to tell, for Agus Harimurti Yudhoyono, or Agus to tell, but it wasn't anything like home. In the offices of the Yang di-Pertuan's before him, it had always been bustling, Joko? Well his office was basically a party in comparison to all this library silence. The silence was only broken when the door to the office swung open and much surprise to this aging Pertuan, in walked a Retired Japanese Prime Minister.
"Honorable Ishikawa...I wasn't expecting you of all people to greet me here." The two embraced as despite their countries histories, they had still known each other for decades. "You must be why its so quiet in here, scared everyone off."
The two exchanged laughs as they each took their seat, and if it wasn't for the Five Principles gnawing at the Pertuan's mind, he may have even enjoyed these moments. But there was something off with Ishikawa, with all of Japan, he could tell.
"It has been, a very long time. I am glad to see such a familiar face." They where both former military men, both at one time ruled their respective countries. They'd both been here before. "So, what harmony can I bring unto you? My dear friend."
"They had wanted to make an example of you." There was pain in Ishikawa's eyes, these two had fought the War of Justice together as allies. "We know what your country has done."
Confusion, shock, a tinge of fear shot through the aging politician sat across from the Retired Japanese PM. "I beg your pardon?"
"The attack on our base...the plot, against Japan. Did you really think you could pull it off without us knowing?" Ishikawa watched the Indonesian intently, however he wasn't waiting for a response. "We had always expected...the Chinese, the Americans, all of them to come after us. Even the War of Divine Justice...was, not unexpected. But this? From your people? It hurts, Agus, it hurts."
"Ishikawa! I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about." There was honesty pouring out of the Indonesian Pertuan, so pure that even a blind man could have seen it. "Since the dawn of the Hyperstate, Nusantara has always upheld harmony in Asia, these allegations, are surely unfounded!"
"I assure you minister, these claims are very much founded on the truth." Ishikawa spoke so coldly, as the emotion was stripped from the room. "It seems that the funambulist finally made a choice. I am so sorry to see, that you have chosen wrong."
"So what? You'll come for us now on baseless claims and accusations?" There was anger, not even reasoning anymore from Agus of Indonesia. "The Bandung Pact won't tolerate thi..."
"Look." Ishikawa cut the Indonesian off, as he pointed towards a monitor which showed an iron rain across Jakarta and mass tsunamis along Indonesia's coasts. "Millions would die, before the Pact could even muster a fleet. And when they finally did come...there would be no one left to save."
The shock was palpable from the Indonesian minister, as he watched a simulation on the screen.
"Fortunately, Pancasila is pragmatic in nature." Ishikawa leaned forward as his eyes turned dark. "So I want you to remember, when you leave this office and receive our requests. I want you to remember all of this."
"What?" Agus spoke in anger and fear, as he listened to the ice cold words of the Japanese Prime Minister who brought down America.
"Remember the railgun pointed at you're heart."
META NOTES

• Much of the above canon, is secret and will not be known by any claim. This however, provides important story-context for the Campaign Narrative.
• The CANON as in (believed IG by everyone) reason for Dederick's death, was a freak accident and subsequent crash into the Pacific Ocean. They are not aware of any Japanese involvement, further, any holes in the story/theories contrary from an IG perspective will be disregarded by your broader populations/governments, etcetera. This is explained due to the fact that either your claim/people hated Dederick enough not to care about anything but celebrating his death - or have been too busy dealing with the fallout of the Alfr Empire. Even the Post-Alfr claims believe it was an accident.
• Thank Elysian for coming up with one of our Campaign Slogans, "Railgun pointed to the heart"

CLAIM REVEAL: THE WORLD SEES

Note, the [CLAIM SUBMISSION THREAD] will feature a map with color-coded ID's for each claim.

Canada

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Claimant is going to be mid-election so free pick.
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 124,854,262
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Claim starts with [SECRET] information.

Things to Consider
This is a fairly straightforward claim, you are nestled across both oceans with neutral to positive (owing to them giving you part of the Midwest) relations with Japan and neutral to positive relations with everyone else.
It also has a fairly decent tech base, (refer to Fulminata's work) and is a safe position if you want to take it easy.

The Custodianship of Mexico / Mexican Rebellion

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Claimant choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 185,954,000
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • You start off with two main factions, the Custodianship government which is a Mexican government put in place by the Alfr and now under the watch of Japan / the Rebel faction which numbers popularity of population around 30%.
  • You have limited military capabilities, but due to years of underspending have an ample colonial budget (if you can find someone willing to sell you weapons)

Things to Consider
This is a fairly complex claim and works similar to the Israel-Egypt claim in that you are playing two factions in one, you are free to play this as a Colonial Power or as a Rebel faction almost from the start (or work both at the same time!). Significant amounts of player freedom and starting creativity, as you can create or pick characters from the IRL mexican claim as needed.

The Holy Kingdom of Argentina - FALL THROUGH CLAIM

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 215,423,163
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • You start as a member of GIGAS AIDE (military alliance under GIGAS)
  • You have (for internal consistency purposes) a significant hatred as a government/religiously radicalized people against Brazil
  • You have some military buildup via AIDE (please DM me once you have your claim and I'll help you find things)

Things to Consider
This is one of the main claims if you are looking to do a Japan/GIGAS/UNSC aligned playthrough this Campaign. It is strategically located away from much of the Bandung Pact but at the same time has room to grow as it is underdeveloped excluding mining (which Japan does for you).
This is a fallthrough claim, to see what that means keep reading below.

The Central Asian Warlords

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 1,840,000 (direct control) + Karakum Union population (no meta control)
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • This is a Russian Army turned warlord band that operates in the same geographic space that the Karakum Union controls.
  • You have buffs to Secret Posts that involve your movements/evasions
  • You do not have access to any industry or etcetera, but at the same time, can launch raids wherever you want and face repercussions if things go wrong. You have small outposts throughout the Russian deep forest/tundra which remain secret to all.
  • [SECRET INFORMATION DELIVERED WHEN CLAIMANT IS CHOSEN]
  • You are one of the only claims, that is allowed to use COVOPs in a more standard way given the removal to the broader claimant base

Things to Consider
THIS IS A HARD CLAIM, like seriously. However, you have very specific season objectives which can and will massively boost the strength of your claim if you can achieve them. This however is not revealed to the public at large but will be revealed to you before the season starts.

The Karakum Union

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 210,439,000
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • You are one of the Russian successors, maybe its true spiritual successor (as a result get 25% of the Russian mil wiki excluding Naval resources)
  • You need to deal with the warlords or don't, but your population will hate you.

Things to Consider
This is a semi-difficult claim with tons of upside as it will have a strong base for general "fun stuff". It is however meant, for someone who is maybe not interesting in doing as much large scale warfighting and wants to do RP and interact with others. You'll mainly be looking to deal with the warlords, or hey, go Join the Bandung Pact or GIGAS and have them do it for you?

The Himavanta or Three Rivers Commonwealth - FALL THROUGH CLAIM

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 239,293,672
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • NONE

Things to Consider
This is a fairly standard claim, you have positive relations with all Asian countries and have no significant geopolitical presence beyond that. You are not a member of the Bandung Pact or GIGAS AIDE.
This is a fallthrough claim, to see what that means keep reading below.

The Joseon Kingdom - FALL THROUGH CLAIM

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 89,912,619
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • NONE

Things to Consider
Outside of your national tech base which is fairly robust, you have positive relations with the UNSC, Japan, and Bandung Pact and are a Pact member with 1 vote in the Conress.
This is a fallthrough claim, to see what that means keep reading below.

Switzerland - FALL THROUGH CLAIM

• DETAILS
• Head of State: Player choice
  • Other Important Characters (meta control)
• Population: 10,317,507
• Claim Starting Allotments (IE. Special Starting Scenario)
  • Receives [BATTLE] bonuses during any and all defensive wars on home territory.

Things to Consider
With the Alfr weakened, you have the opportunity to cut yourself a new piece of the pie.
This is a fallthrough claim, to see what that means keep reading below.

Other non-Claim Countries and Territorial Changes

• Japan is not claimable
  • Includes,
  • Japan, China, Australia, California, South Africa, Alfr Core, select Caribbean Islands, select European islands, etcetera
• The UNSC is not claimable
  • Includes,
  • The UNSC, North African colony, Cyprus, Cuba and select Caribbean islands, China
• The broader UASR is not claimable
  • Includes,
  • Light green UASR
• The Nusantara League is not claimable
  • Includes the Nusantara League
• Western Russia is not Claimable

Fall Through Claims

Fall Through Claims are not intended but still can be someone's first pick. IE, if we reach a situation where we do not have enough claims, the fall through claims will be opened as well. However if you really want to play a fall through claim, DM me and I'll chat with you about it.

Notes on Sandbox and Worldbuilding

When you read the "things to consider" sections of these claims and the others announced, realize these are not set things in stone you have freedom, this is a creative writing game first and foremost, so don't feel limited.
However, do remember there is a scaling game-difficulty mechanic this season which will push you narratively, in certain directions. See more here

A runthrough of canonical couples where both members are playable from FF games and a little tongue-in-cheek "rating" for their relationship: how "good" it seems. Don't take it too seriously, but feel free to throw in your own counter-ratings if you feel like it. "Spoiler" couples are marked (with the relevant game) but beware unmarked spoilers in the comments. The unmarked ones tend to be "obvious" or extremely well known couples with nothing too spoilery to talk about. YMMV.
Are there any I missed?

Final Fantasy IV

Cecil & Rosa
10/10
The OG couple of FF and a very atypical couple within the standards of these kinds of stories: They are already a couple before the game even begins and their relationship isn't really focused on all that much. It's the definition of a good stable relationship with no drama or anything. Well there's the whole Kain thing but that's not really on either Cecil or Rosa. Absolute goals. Also in the sequel they even have a kid.

Final Fantasy VII

Cloud & Tifa
8/10
They properly pair up towards the end of the game, but they've had an ongoing relationship for a while... though not really getting a true "childhood friends" situation, since we learn they didn't really interact much apart from basically that one trip to the mountains and a "date" on the water tower. But they definitely bond once Cloud waltzes into Midgar. They lose some points for neither being really that great at the whole relationship thing and seemingly having a bit of a rocky relationship between FFVII and AC, but they do get points for staying together all the way through DC and probably beyond. Somehow those two goofs made it work.

Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core

Aerith & Zack
4/10
Well I marked this as CC just do those who know know, but their relationship of course exists already in OG FFVII. And technically Zack is playable too in that... Anyways, I'm not looking to rustle any feathers with this rating for all you Zerith fans out there. It's just the thing that as a couple, maybe through circumstances, they don't really get too far. Aerith speaks of Zack as her first boyfriend and lets be real, "first" relationships are special for being the first but rarely are they the end-all of relationships. Being a fantasy story they well may have been a successful couple had Zack not dream-embraced and honor-protected himself with Cloud. Nonethless, as it stands they don't score too high compared to some of the others on this list. Sorry!

Final Fantasy VIII

Squall & Rinoa
9/10
They aren't an out-of-the-gate couple from the start of the game but the pairing is quite obvious from the moment these two interact. They score rather high as their whole relationship is arguably the heart of the whole game. In fact in many ways they are a great comparison to Cecil & Rosa: These two get a lot of buildup during the game and it's a whole will-they-won't-they of it all. Their relationship is at times rocky due to a case of absolute teenage antisocial idiocy, but (lets turn on the spoilers so we can talk real talk) they definitely cement their place as a star couple in the series by the end. I mean doesn't really matter whether you like the (arguably unlikable) characters, they go hard for each other. Squall carries her across half the world to get treatment... and that's before he literally jumps out into outer space to save her with the absolutely thinnest possiblity of even surviving. Speaking of surviving, assuming we go with the "Squall survives" interpretation of the ending, they do have a strong case for a lasting relationship. That said they're teenagers so maybe they break up in a week.
Seifer & Rinoa
4/10
Whoa there, Rinoa twice!? Yeah I figured technically this couple fits the theme so here they are. We don't really know that much about them as a couple but it seems like they actually were having a good time. Seifer comes off as a jerk from Squall's perspective but Rinoa seems to have genuinely liked him. Anyways, I'm basically giving them the same rating with the same argument as for the FFVII Crisis Core couple.

Final Fantasy IX

Zidane & Garnet
8/10
Another "obvious couple". The game revolves a little less around these two than FFVIII does, but it's still a very strong part of it. Overall I have surprisingly little to say here despite FFIX being my favourite game. It builds up, it works. Docking a few points for Zidane having a real hard time shaking off his usual habits and disappearing for what... months? at the end of the game. I'm sure he had a good reason with injury and travel and whatnot but come on my monkey boy, you actually decided to wait to organize a theatre play to make a dramatic entrance instead of just beelining straight to Garnet and being like I AM ALIVE DO NOT CRY.
Steiner & Beatrix
9/10
The surprise beta couple and "technically eligible for this list". I gotta give them high marks for kind of just going from 0 to 100 without any sort of excess drama or anything. They of course don't get much of a limelight in the grand scheme of things, but it's one of those relationships that "just works". They don't get full marks though since they needed a Frasier-level farce to make their relationship happen.
Vivi & Quina
10/10 no notes

Final Fantasy X

Tidus & Yuna
10/10
A "return to form" after FFIX with this game making the relationship as obviously set up and central as VIII. I feel like I have a strong bias here but hey this whole list is subjective so whatever. It's a relationship that is built from the ground up before our eyes and really just works really fine. There isn't much drama (outside of the whole Seymour... thing) and it instead turns mostly into the player along with every single other person in the game staring at these two being like KISS ALREADY DO DUMBASSES. Of course this gets points from me too for the tragic nature of it all. The most bittersweet ending in the whole series in my opinion, as everyone wins, Spira is happy, Sin is gone and Yuna didn't even need to sacrifice herself, but she arguably had to sacrifice something more important to her (and something she hadn't mentally prepared for her whole life like the self-sacrifice of the pilgrimage).In the sequel the relationship obviously can't play an "active" role but it is at the heart of it all as the whole driving force behind Yuna, solidifying the relationship as something that crosses the bounds of the possible, and in the "perfect" ending into the impossible.In the follow-up audio drama this is all absolutely wrecked and that's why we DON'T TALK ABOUT THE AUDIO DRAMA. It is non-canon for the purposes of this list.
Yuna & Seymour
3/10
Coming in with the flmisiest of excuse to be eligible for this list... yeah... one is barely playable and they are barely a couple. BUT. I did want to insert some random ranting here because yeah it's a terrible relationship and yeah in hindsight we know Seymour is insane BUT. I've always thought that in the moment in Guadosalam when Seymour proposes a marriage to Yuna and with the knowledge the party has at their disposal I think it actually is a good proposal! If Seymour wasn't crazy and didn't get even crazier after being unkilled, it's honestly a good and solid plan. They would be a great beacon of hope and unity for Spirans. It would be a great political marriage and would let Yuna kind of do something akin to what she wants to do without the whole dying part. But yeah, it's all kind of moot since Seymour is crazy and also becomes crazier. In an alternate world though?

Final Fantasy X-2

Wakka & Lulu
7/10
The surprise couple since they didn't really even couple up proper in the last game yet now they've got a whole baby. They definitely get marks for all of that and it does feel like theirs is a relationship that is going to last. That said it does have weird vibes to it, the two kind of lack a certain sort of "traditional" chemistry and all of that. And there's the dead brother thing. But I guess through it all they ended up together. Still can't really bring myself to put them on the 8/10 tier with the others though.

Final Fantasy XIII

Serah & Snow
10/10
The second canon couple from before the game even begins. This is a relationship that drives the story in parts, though it isn't as central as the others have been in either of the first two games of the trilogy. That said, it's a bit of a surprising score considering how I really don't like Snow as a character. Yet there really isn't any objective way to deny how impossibly dedicated an loyal he is to Serah, which to me really saves the character from the trash heap. They start off engaged, so we're talking about a pretty solid foundation already for their relationship which is sure to keep on keeping on through aaaaaallll the things that happen in the series.

Final Fantasy XVI

Jill & Clive
10/10
I'ma be honest with you, I haven't played XVI yet. But from what I understand their relationship is up there in the elites. Correct me if I'm wrong but also don't because no spoilers pls.

Honorable mentions:

Final Fantasy VI

Locke & Celes
Putting this in as an inb4 type as I assume this would otherwise be the most commented "you forgot this" relationship. Not including them as they never really end up together during the game. There's a bit too much baggage on both sides, but I'm sure they'll be happily together post-game.

Final Fantasy Tactics

Ovelia & Delita
0/10
Entering the ring as "technically eligible" we have the number one worst canon playable couple. It's a political marriage over everything else and Ovelia does not seem to be too happy about it all. Although apparently word-of-god canon says he survives it, I do prefer my headcanon of Ovelia killing Delita and vice versa. An extremely befitting ending for them in the context of this masterpiece of a game's story.

Hi everyone,
I've been struggling with gastrointestinal symptoms for a while, and I strongly believe there's something wrong in my digestive tract. Recently, I underwent comprehensive bloodwork to get some answers. Surprisingly, most of my markers were normal, which I didn't expect. However, there were two markers that stood out as problematic:

1. High Histamine in Blood
2. Bad Cholesterol/Lipids (High HDL, Low LDL)

Given these results, I'm wondering if they could be indicative of underlying issues like SIBO (Small Intestinal Bacterial Overgrowth), leaky gut, or IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome).
Here are my symptoms that i have chronic over a year

• Allergic shiners (not to be confused with dark circles)
• Random mucus buildup in throat
• unreasonable stuffed nose at random times
• Watery eyes
• minimal but noticeable bloodshot eyes
• Excessive saliva buildup in mouth
• Frequent sneezing
• Constipation
• frequent unreasonable diarrhea besides eating clean
• Bloating
• Frequent changes in bowel habits
• Difficulty passing gas
• Persistent acne/pimples that take too long to heal (I used to have clear skin)
• Floaty and loose stools
• Extremely light and disrupted sleep
• Inability to nap during the day, despite trying (I used to be a great napper)
• Hypervigilance/hyperawareness, with sensitivity to noise and light

I'm planning to discuss these results with my doctor, but I'd appreciate any insights or similar experiences from this community. Do you think these markers and symptoms could justify further testing or a potential diagnosis for SIBO, leaky gut, or IBS?
Thank you in advance for your advice and experiences!

Mix for the patient a draught of well-dried navel-figs from a flourishing tree in wine three years old; or you might also crush them together with a mallet, 350 dissolve them over a fire, and give as an antidote to his sickness. And when he recovers his appetite give him again his fill of this honey-sweet drink, sometimes adding milk to the mixture; or else cast in and mix with wine the dry fruit of the date-palm or wild pears that have long been dried, or the fruit of the common pear, or of the cordate pear, or sometimes myrtle-berries; or let him even, like a new-born child, put his lips to the nipple, and calf-like draw a draught from the breast, even as a new-born calf fresh from the womb, butting the udder, forces out the quickening flow from the teat. 360 Or else you may give him his fill of some warm and greasy drink and compel him to vomit unwilling though he be, forcing him with your fingers or with a feather; or cut and twist from papyrus a curved throat-tickler.
But if fresh milk turn cheesy in the hollow of a man's stomach, then, as it collects, suffocation overcomes him. Give him three draughts, one of vinegar between two of grape-syrup, and purge his costive bowels. Or further, grate into a draught the root of silphium from Libya, or else some of its gum, and administer it dissolved in vinegar. 370 Or again, you may add to the mixture dispersive lye or a fresh-blooming sprig of Cretan thyme. Sometimes the clustered fruit of the eucnemus well-steeped in wine is a help. Also a drink of curd, they say, disperses the clots; so too the green leaves of mint mixed either with a draught of honey or with an astringent one of vinegar.
Consider now the thorn-apple, whose aspect and whose taste upon the lips are like milk. At once unwonted retchings agitate the throat of the drinker, and by reason of the pain at the mouth of his stomach 380 he either vomits up his food stained with blood, or else he voids it, foul and fill of mucus, from his bowels, like one suffering from the spasms of dysentery. Sometimes worn out with the parching struggle his limbs give way and he falls to the ground, yet has no wish to moisten his dry mouth.
You must either administer draughts of milk, or else perhaps grape-syrup, slightly warmed and mixed with it in his cup. Moreover the flesh from the plump breast of a sleek fowl, softened on the fire and eaten, can be a help; so too is gruel if swallowed by the bowlful; 390 also the creatures which beneath the roaring of the rocky sea ever feed about the weed-clad crags: some of these he should devour raw, others boiled, many of them after broiling over a fire; but dishes of sea-snails or of the purple limpet, of crayfish and pinna and of the brown sea-urchin will be far more helpful, and scallops; neither . . . the trumpet-shell or sea-squirts that revel in the seaweed.
Let not the hateful draught of pharicum escape your memory - for you are not ignorant of it: it causes grievous suffering in the jaws. Know that to the taste it is like spikenard; but it sends men reeling 400 or sometimes out of their senses, and in a single day it can easily kill a strong man.
Now you may either weigh out and administer some of the purse-like root of the fair-flowering mountain nard which the headlands of Cilicia nourish by the brimming Cestrus, or else well-ground Cretan alexanders. Take also the iris itself and the head of the lily, abhorred of Aphrodite, seeing that it was her rival for colour; wherefore in the midst of its petals she attached a thing of shame to vex it, making to grow there the shocking yard of an ass. 410 Or else you may shave his head, and having cut the hair from the roots with a keen-edged razor, take it, and after heating along with it fresh barley-meal and the dry leaves of rue, which in its feeding the caterpillar is quickest to spoil, soak in vinegar and plaster thickly about his temples.
Let no man in ignorance fill his belly with henbane, as men often do in error, or as children who, having lately put aside their swaddling-clothes and head-bindings, and their perilous crawling on all fours, and walking now upright with no anxious nurse at hand, 420 chew its sprays of baleful flowers through witlessness, since they are just bringing to light the incisor teeth in their jaws, at which time itching assails their swollen gums.
Give the patient either pure milk to drink as a remedy or else fenugreek, which is grown for fodder and puts forth curving horns amid its windswept leaves - a great boon when it floats in common oil. Or else you should give him dried nettle seed, or even the raw leaves of the nettle itself in plenty to suck, or chicory and garden-cress and what they call perseum, 430 and besides these, mustard and radishes in plenty, and mingled with them slender spring onions. A head of garlic with well-grown cloves just taken in a drink also averts disaster.
Learn further that when men drink the tears of the poppy, whose seeds are in a head, they fall fast asleep ; for their extremities are chilled; their eyes do not open but are bound quite motionless by their eyelids. With the exhaustion an odorous sweat bathes all the body, turns the cheeks pale, and causes the lips to swell; the bonds of the jaw are relaxed, 440 and through the throat the laboured breath passes faint and chill. And often either the livid nail or wrinkled nostril is a harbinger of death; sometimes too the sunken eyes.
Of all these symptoms you must not be afraid, but devote yourself entirely to succour, filling the failing man with boiling-hot wine and grape-syrup. Or else make haste to break in pieces the labour of the bee of Hymettus. (Bees were born from the carcase of a calf that had fallen dead in the glades, and there in some hollow oak they first, maybe, united to build their nest, and then, bethinking themselves of work, 450 wrought round it in Demeter's honour their many-celled combs, as with their feet they gathered thyme and flowering heath.) There are times when, prizing open his dog-teeth, or into his drooping jaws, you should squeeze with a tuft of fleecy wool some fresh, fragrant rose-oil or iris-oil or again oil of the sleek olive; and let him drain a thick flock saturated with it. And forthwith rouse him with slaps on either cheek, or else by shouting, or again by shaking him as he sleeps, in order that the swooning man may dispel the fatal drowsiness and may then vomit, ridding himself of the grievous affliction. 460 And dip cloths first in wine and then in warm oil, and rub and chafe his chilled limbs with the liquid; or again, mix them in a bath-tub and dip his body in it, and at once immerse him in the hot bath and so thaw his blood and soften his taut, dry skin.
Also you should learn to know the dire and fateful drink of the deadly sea-hare, offspring of the waves of the pebbly sea. Its odour is that of fishes' scales and of the water in which they have been scoured; its taste is fishy like that of rotten fish, or of unwashed when scales taint the dish. 470 A sordid creature with its slim tentacles, it resembles the new-born young of the calamary or of the octopus or the fugitive cuttlefish, which stains the sea black with its gall directly it perceives the fisherman's crafty assault. Over the limbs of the poisoned spreads the dusky pallor of jaundice, and piecemeal their flesh melts away and dwindles, and food is utterly loathsome. At times the surface of the flesh swells and grows puffy about the ankles; the eyes are swollen, and as it were luxuriant blossoms settle upon the cheeks. For there follows a scantier flow of urine, which is sometimes red, 480 at others still more bloody in colour. Then the sight of every fish is hateful to his eyes and in his disgust he loathes food from the sea.
Give the patient a sufficient draught of Phocian hellebore or the gum of new-grown scammony in order that he may void both the draught and the filth of the evil fish; or else he should milk a she-ass and drink the milk, or he should dissolve smooth-skinned sprigs of the mallow in a pot. Then again he is given an obol's weight of cedar pitch ; or else let him eat his fill of the scarlet fruit of the pomegranate, the Cretan kind, 490 the wine-red, and the sort they call Promenean, also that from Aegina, and all those which partition hard, red grains into sections by a covering like a spider's web. Or else you should squeeze the flesh of grapes through a strainer, like olives oozing beneath the presses.
But if a man whose throat is constrained by parching thirst fall on his knees and draw water from a stream like a bull, parting with his hand the delicate, moss-like plants, then, approaching eagerly along with the water there rushes upon him in its desire for food the blood-loving leech, 500 long flaccid and yearning for gore. Or when a man's eyes are shrouded beneath dark night, and without thinking he drinks from a pitcher, tipping it up and pressing his lips to its, the creature floating on the surface of the water passes down his throat. At the point to which first the stream drives and collects them, the leeches fasten on in numbers and suck the body's blood, settling now at the entrance where the breath always gathers to pour through the narrow pharynx, and sometimes one clings about the mouths of the stomach inflicting pain, 510 and swallows a fresh repast.
You should administer to the patient a draught of vinegar mixed in his cup, and sometimes with it snow to eat, or ice fresh frozen by the north winds. Or you should dig up some moist, brackish soil and brew therewith a turbid potion to give him strength; or draw actual salt water, and either warm it at once beneath the late summer sun or heat it steadily over a fire. Or else you should give him rock salt in plenty or the salt flakes which a salter ever gathers 520 as they settle at the bottom when he mingles water with water.
Let not the evil ferment of the soil injure a man; it will often swell up in his chest, at other times it will choke him, when it is fostered over the viper's coil deep in its lair, sucking up the monster's venom and the noxious breath from its mouth. This is the evil ferment which they call Fungi in general, for to different kinds different names have been assigned.
Now do you cut of either the head of a cabbage with its coats of leaves or the green fronds of rue, and administer them. Or else crumble the bloom of copper that has had long use, 530 or ashes of the vine in vinegar. Sometimes grate the root of bindweed or some soda into an infusion of vinegar, or a leaf of the cress which grows in garden-plots; and citron too, and the biting mustard. You should also reduce to ashes in the fire the lees of wine or the droppings of the domestic fowl, and then let the man thrust his hand hard down his throat and vomit up the deadly poison.
But if hurt come from a draught, hard to cure, of the sorcerer's lizard, slippery-skinned and utterly reckless, which they call the salamander, and which not even a fierce flame can harm, 540 then on a sudden the base of the tongue is inflamed and then the victims are overcome with chill, and a fearful trembling burdens and loosens their joints. They stagger and crawl upon all fours like an infant, for the faculties of the mind are utterly blunted, and livid weals spreading thick over the skin blotch the extremities as the poison is diffused.
Give the sufferer frequent doses of the tears stripped from the pine-tree mingled with the bee's rich produce; or boil down the leaves of the budding ground-pine together with the cones which the pine puts forth. 550 And sometimes mix the nettle's seed with the finely ground meal of bitter vetch, and dry them. Sometimes too you should sprinkle cooked nettles with crumbling barley-groats, dress well in oil, and force the patient to eat in plenty even against his will. Again, pine-resin and the sacred produce of the bee and the root of all-heal and the delicate eggs of the tortoise are curative when you mix them on a hot fire; curative too the flesh of a hog abounding in fat when boiled down together with the limbs of the sea-turtle which swims at large with weak flippers; or else with those of the mountain tortoise that feeds on tree-medick, the creature 560 that Hermes the Gracious endowed with a voice though voiceless, for he separated the chequered shell from the flesh and extended two arms from its edges. Further, either you should bend to your service the tadpoles' impudent parents and eryngo roots with them, or you should throw into a pot a sufficient quantity of scammony and cook it. With these fee the sick man to satiety, and though he be near to death, you will save him.
If a man imbibe a draught from the sun-loving toad or from the dumb and green-hued toad which in the springtime cling to the bushes, sleek, and licking up the dew, 570 one of them, the sun-lover, induces a pallor like fustic and causes swellings in the limbs while the breath issues continually in long gasps and forced, and smells foul at the mouth. Whereas the voiceless one that frequents the reeds sometimes diffuses the yellowness of boxwood over the limbs, 580 and sometimes bedews the mouth with a flow of bile. Sometimes too a man suffers from heart-burn, and persistent hiccups convulse him. And it causes the seed, now of man now of woman, to drip on, and often scattering it over their limbs it renders it infertile. But you should give the patient the flesh of a frog boiled or roasted; sometimes pitch which you have mixed with sweet wine. And the spleen of the deadly toad averts the grievous oppression - the vocal toad of the fen, which cries on the sedge , the first harbinger of delightful spring. Further, for such patients you should sometimes pour out wine in abundance, cup after cup, and induce the man to vomit, reluctant though he be; or else heat over a fire a big-bellied vessel and keep the sick man always warm, and let him sweat profusely. Also you should clip and mix with wine the roots of tall-growing reeds which are nourished by the toads' native marsh, 590 where as tiny creatures they swim about with their feet, or roots of the life loving galingale, female and male; and dry the man's body by ceaseless exercise, keeping him from all food and drink, and exhaust his limbs.
Also do not neglect litharge, which brings suffering when its hateful burden sinks into the stomach and wind circulates and rumbles about the mid navel, as in a violent colic which overpowers men, smiting them with sudden pains. The victim's flow of urine fails; then the limbs swell 600 and the skin has the appearance of lead.
Give the patient either a double obol's weight of myrrh or a fresh infusion of sage, or else cut him hypericum from the hills, or sprigs of hyssop, or again a spray of the wild fig and seed of celery from the Isthmus, beneath which the sons of Sisyphus buried the youthful Melicertes, slain by the sea, and established games. Or else you should roast pepper along with rue and grate them into wine, and so rescue him from deadly sickness. You should also give him fresh buds of henna, or the firstling fruit of the pomegranate 610 with the flower still upon it.
[See that you do not pluck the dangerous, pine-like yew of Oeta: it is the giver of lamentable death, and only a copious draught of unmixed wine can bring instant help when it chokes the pharynx and the narrow passage of a man's throat.]
[Some remedies medicinal for a man against noxious fungi Nicander in fact set down in his book, but in addition to these the myrtle whose twigs Dictynna abhors, and which Hera of the Imbrasus alone receives not for her garland, 620 seeing that it adorned the Cyprian queen on mount Ida, when the goddesses were roused to compete in beauty with one another - from this in some watered glade take as a healing boon the scarlet fruit that waxes and is warmed with the wintry rays of the sun, and pounding them with a pestle strain the juice over fine linen or with a rush sieve and administer a cup containing a cyathus - or more, for a larger dose is serviceable since this draught is not harmful to men - for that is in fact sufficient cure if you drink it.]
And now hereafter you will treasure the memory of Nicander the singer, 630 and observe the command of Zeus, Protector of Friendships.

Welcome back to my running series of WWF PPV Reviews from a ‘blind’ perspective (I have no idea what’s going to happen; the results, the feuds or how good any of the matches will be). I have always heard stories of the attitude era and golden age but never watched it myself so I set myself to watching every single PPV event chronologically. I am also watching Wrestling Bios ‘reliving the war’ series to keep me updated inbetween the events with the feuds, and to get excited about upcoming matches.
Before I review the matches, based on the past few episodes of raw and last PPVs I’ll let you know, going into the event, which match I’m most excited for and which feud I’m most excited to see.
The match I’m most excited to see is Bret Hart vs Undertaker. I think the last time we saw these two compete they out of a good show but I don’t think it was their best, I’m hoping that they’ll be able to steal the show tonight.
The Feud I’m most excited to see may surprise you, it’s the opening match vs Dude Love vs HHH. I think they’ve just got great chemistry together and I’m excited to see where their match will take them. Two big personalities together in the ring
WWF One Night Only 1997 Match Ratings
HHH vs Dude Love 2.5/5
Leif Cassidy vs Tiger Ali Singh 0/5
Los Boricuas vs Headbangers 2.75/5
Flash Funk vs The Patriot 0.75/5
The Godwinns vs Legion of Doom 0.5/5
Vader vs Owen Hart 3.75/5
Undertaker vs Bret Hart 4.25/5
HBK Vs British Bulldog 4.25/5
This is the first event I’m seeing from my home country of the UK and I’ve heard our crowds are notoriously very good. Immediately starting the ppv I hear the classic Vuvuzelas going off which brings back so many memories. They’re also really getting involved in the match making a thunderous clap and noise when dude love y to start a clap chant in the venue.
One of my favourite things with HHH matches is when he pushes the referees and they push back for him to cower in the corner while he gets shouted at, the crowd loves it, I love it, just f***ing brilliant. And staying on the topic of the crowd they really made the dude love match vs HHH more enjoyable than it would’ve been without them. It wasn’t really anything standout but the crowd really enjoyed dude love and all his playing to the crowd. Like I say though the match itself wasn’t really anything that crazy, just your standard match and it’s a shame because I know they’re capable of more, the crowd carried this match. There also wasn’t much psychological play here other than Chyna getting involved which the referee didn’t see.
We then cut to a load of British people saying who they think will win the main event and it’s so funny to me seeing all the different Brit’s from back in the day 😂😂. Also the announcer sounds way too posh to actually be British but I could be wrong, and the guard like people just standing there as wrestlers walk to the ring is so funny as well 😂.
The next match saw Ali and leif announced by sunny but my lord this match was dull, even the UK crowd wasn’t feeling it. There wasn’t really a highlight to mention at all and it was SO dull I don’t really feel like going into it. Two below average wrestlers with no chemistry doing below average moves is all you need to know. It just felt pointless, the finish was such a random place for it to end.
Before the tag team match one thing to note, MIGUEL IS SO GOD DAMN HAIRY ITS INSANE!
I actually enjoyed this match a lot more than I thought I would, the headbangers put on a good show and vega and Miguel finally delivered something better than average!! It was a classic and simple tag team match executed well, can’t ask for much more than that for a mid card tag match. The crowd was really into the headbangers too and whilst there wasn’t any standout moments it flowed quite well; wasn’t slow or anything which was nice. The two teams had some good chemistry together. Kings commentary about Miguel’s hair was absolutely hilarious as well 😂 I loved it.
It’s still weird hearing Kurt angles theme with no angle and no you suck chants in the crowd. It was disappointing to see flash funk not pulling his usual impressive high risk moves during this match, and patriot just seemed kind of off. The crowd dynamic wasn’t really there as well they just didn’t like patriot because… he’s patriotic… I guess. Honestly the commentary was the best part of this match, The commentary team are killing it tonight. The spot at the end was well executed with funk doing a back flip from the top rope to a knee counter, that looked good, and that’s about it to be honest. Really finding myself having not much to say about these matches.
I gotta say I really don’t like the godwinns new theme though, I preferred their hillbilly entrance they had in 1996, at least it made them stand out a bit, now they’re just rednecks in overalls. LODs entrance was sick as per usual. The actual match however, was not sick. It made me sick. No im just joking but it was extremely boring. I really like LOD but they just don’t get paired with the teams that they can really shine with. The crowd was really behind LOD but it couldn’t do anything for the match. If this was like a tornado tag or a tables match or something it would’ve been far more exciting. Just not much to say once again. There’s been some absolute stinkers tonight.
Shamrock cuts a promo telling us about his injury and then rockabilly comes out only to get demolished by shamrock and held in a deep ankle lock which is extremely satisfying as rockabilly is simply so hateable. Just dislike that guy… I don’t know what it is.
Bret hart cuts a promo where he says he does indeed care what people think of him and the brits boo him which is to his surprise. He’s just such a fantastic heel.
Vader vs owen hart next I have no idea how this is gunna go but it’s either gunna be really bad or really good with no inbetween. Hopefully this match doesn’t follow the trend of bad matches we’re having tonight.
Owen took an insane Irish whip to the corner in the middle of the match, like Bret hart would but so hard I’m surprised he didn’t wind himself. He literally sprinted into the corner I was cringing thinking of the shock that would give to your body. Owen is really a true wrestler and he manages to keep it fast paced even with a big man like Vader. Owen actually puts in such a good show that the crowd goes from semi booing him to being completely on his side by the end of the match. Multiple times in the match he tries to bodyslam Vader, each time getting closer to doing it, but eventually towards the end of the match actually manages to do it, almost reminiscent of hogan and Andre, and it was extremely impressive he’s stronger than he looks. By the end of the match he’s firing on all cylinders and this is one of my all time favourite performances of his, he really stepped it up here for this solo performance. Vader is actually really underrated, a lot of matches he’s involved in are very very entertaining and I don’t think he gets enough credit for it. I actually think this match ended a bit too soon, just as momentum was really picking up it was over which was disappointing. Vader and Owen had some amazing chemistry here though and really showed what they can do. Good show chaps. The last 5 minutes were absolutely awesome and with 2 or 3 extra minutes they could’ve got this match close to a 5/5.
Undertaker and Bret next and as usual from the UK everyone has their own opinion so both undertaker and Bret hart are getting both cheered and booed in Birmingham, that being said they are absolutely electric and hyped as hell for this match, and so am I!!
I suppose one of brets signature move sets is damage to the legs as he appears to do this every single match to set up for the sharpshooter, which I don’t have a problem with but sometimes it feels a little underwhelming as it sets up the next 10 minutes of the match to be slowed down and focus goes completely on holds and damage to the legs of the other wrestler, it’s not particularly my cup of tea, pun completely intended. That being said I thought they had a fantastic match, the crowd was pretty lively for the start and the end with the middle portion of Bret focussing on the legs being a little slower and not really appealing to the crowd all that much. Their action whilst on their feet however was excellent; I don’t expect any botched moves from these two and they always deliver stellar delivery in everything they do.
Undertaker once again managed to get himself out of the sharpshooter which seems to be happening more often now but it’s still a great crowd pop moment as for so long that was just a finisher for Bret in the wwf. The crowd is REALLY hyped for the last part of the match where undertaker is pulling out vintage move after signature move, Bret is selling perfectly and performing fantastically it was just awesome. Cameramen are being shoved and being knocked into to make room for the destruction that starts to take place when the undertaker is in control. Bret took a really tough looking Irish whip under the rope to the ring post and undertaker starts to setup for the finish but Bret manages to somehow counter and I just had no idea where this was going! After multiple Tombstone counters undertaker gets Bret hart caught in the ropes to a gasp from the audience and then… the ref calls for a DQ to the undertaker -.- THESE GOD DAMN DQ FINISHES!! I understand that they wanted Bret to keep the title and setup for undertaker vs HBK at bad blood but eh I just want these matches to have actual finishes. That being said it was a great match and didn’t completely ruin it or anything it was just a sour note to end it on.
I don’t really understand why this wasn’t the main event as Bret is the WWF champion and that’s two ppvs in a row where he is champion and not in the main event? Not really sure what’s going on there but I thought it was worth mentioning. Once again worth mentioning is I think these two would really benefit from having a shorter matchup. This and their last match have both been around half an hour and if you just shave 10 minutes of rest holds and leg work off the match, don’t have a dumb and poorly booked DQ ending AGAIN, and you’d have an absolute classic on your hands.
Next we’ve got the main event and Shawn makes his way to the ring and my god i was just laughing my ass off at the crowd reaction. Once again all the women love him all the men hate him. At one point he’s literally held hostage for a minute as he goes to hug some girls in the crowd and then he kisses them!? SHAWN YOU DIRTY DOG THEYRE LIKE 14!!! A different time 😂 maybe he kisses them on the cheek or something but it was so weird looking at it now. Something you also have to understand is a while ago people in the UK actually used to like their country so it’s no wonder they’re on bulldogs side here. The same can’t be said now but back then people loved the UK being represented in sports. ANYWAY! Onto the actual match. I wonder how many Davey boy smith chinlocks were gunna see this match.
Shawn’s selling is so good in matches with bigger men it really sells the fact that he’s battling an underdog fight, it’s so entertaining. DBS is having a great match as well really showing off his strength and for most of the match keeping it really fast paced, he’s just unrelenting in portions of this match it’s great to see. Owen and the bulldog really stepped up this event. Bulldog really gets the crowd going when he’s fighting off HHH, Rick rude, and HBK at the same time. By the end of the match I was really routing for bulldog to win this one, but eventually he gets overwhelemed and the un honourable help from HHH and rude was too much, causing the bulldog to pass out from a submission hold.
The match itself was really good, a little slow at some points, but which match isn’t. The crowd was super hot and completely behind the bulldog. The aftermath of the match was absolutely bonkers though I have to talk about it, I’ve never heard such loud boos and when the match is called because of bulldog passing out from being held in a leg lock(not sure what it’s called) for so long. The ring completely fills up with trash as the British crowd shows their hatred for HBK. They’ve REALLY built up Michael’s as the biggest heel in the business right now as after the match he cuts a promo dedicated to bulldogs sister Diana, a cancer survivor, f***ing hell they just had no holds barred during this era. While it wasn’t a better match than takebret the crowd was electric and emotionally I got invested in this one I actually found myself really not liking HBK by the end 😂.
Overall the event had a VERY slow buildup to the main event, with a good opener but a very poor mid card, and then finishing with two fantastic main events and semi main events. They really need to find better ways to fill these mid cards because at points it’s so tedious to sit through and watch, and that’s what made Canadian stampede so fun to watch. That being said there were still 5 matches that were worth watching and it’s a decent event overall, and the crowd was fantastic.
Overall rating 3.25/5

Well, it’s kind of long but here we go, we are first time parents so I guess we were dumb lol
When my LO was born from the start we had issues that we basically were told were normal that just weren’t. We didn’t know. She never could latch, so we triple fed and gave her my pumped milk. She was born small (4 lbs 12 oz) and really stayed on her curve after the first initial huge drop
My babe pooped infrequently, every 14 days sometimes. They say this is fine, normal in some babies. Every poop was a blow out so it was kind of hard to tell, but it was liquidy, not pasty, they said that breast fed baby poop could be like this. This is not normal. Don’t let them lie to you. Normal babies poop 1-2x a day, sometimes they skip a day, but are pretty regular.
My baby took a bottle incredibly slow for months. We asked for help, but didn’t really get any. We saw multiple lactation consultants trying to get her to breast feed, but on bottle and off she would drink 30 ML (1 oz) in 30 minutes. This was 2 fold though because she had an undiagnosed posterior tongue tie that really also affected a lot. After getting it reversed though, it didn’t totally fix the issue. It wasn’t until all dairy, soy and corn, oats and legumes (basically I went paleo plus home made sourdough) were eliminated from my diet/milk and after starting omeprazole (we will get to this in a moment) that she started being able to drink at a normal pace. This plus mouth stretches for the tongue tie. 4 oz in 15-20 minutes was finally a thing. The first 4 1/2 - 5 months of her life we held a bottle in her mouth probably 10-12 hours a day.
From the beginning she was phlegmy. She’d cough on the bottle a lot, gag while drinking. The pediatricians that we saw would just say they didn’t really know why.
Gas pain was horrible. Her farts were louder than mine and frequent and we constantly had to bicycle her legs, try to stretch her and help her pass gas for months. Nothing really helped.
She did not sleep well. Horrible. She slept in 45 minute cycles for months.. around 3 months this randomly got a bit better. 3-4 month period though it hit hard and we could not set her down to sleep. I started having to co sleep out of sheer necessity. We were exhausted and it was becoming incredibly dangerous. If she knew I laid down with her, she’d wake up bawling. I’d have to sit in bed rocking her, transition us both into a spooning position (she slept better on her side, with her head propped up on my boob she refused to latch on)
She wouldn’t sleep in her crib. She was in a foldable little bed sleeper in between us for months. She was small anyway so she fit.
When we realized she preferred being propped up a bit, we got a manual rocking bassinet at 4 months that inclined. Her sleep started improving for a bit..
Then we hit the dark era at 3 1/2 months. This was about November 13th.. She grew big enough to out drink me. She was drinking more than I could pump. We introduced Aptamil formula to supplement (we had done this previously for a few days without issue, but when we had shortages before my SIL gave us some of her frozen breast milk) everything was fine for about 5 days then our baby started becoming a different baby. She was at least calm and pretty happy before, but now she started getting angry. We didn’t know what was happening, we thought we hit the 4 month sleep regression early, since she was refusing to sleep. Back to 45-90 min increments. Then we thought she was teething. She had the red face teething rash …? And was drooling A LOT. When we saw our pediatrician she just told us our baby wasn’t teething, and babies are just fussy sometimes.
Something weird started happening. She started pooping more. I was like, oh the formula is helping her stomach, she’s more regular with her poop. Then became overly excessive. 3-4 x a day.. with mucus but we didn’t know what mucus poops were. Then we had the rotavirus vaccine. I’m not sure if there’s milk in there or if it can just cause general GI issues for some babies, but my LO started pooping 7x a day. :(
All the fussiness, ugh. I feel so guilty even now but my husband and I were getting incredibly frustrated. We both at random periods yelled at our poor baby. He got headphones to drowned out her crying while holding her. I remained calmer but it was just so bad. I remember putting her in her crib and yelling at her to shut up. I had reached a breaking point. At least she was safe in her crib. I cried so hard.. so exhausted between pumping 7x a day for minimum of 30 minutes, holding her while she’s screaming all the time and never getting to sleep or eat. My baby had COLIC. Literally wouldn’t let us set her down without screaming, bottle refusal. It’s like everything we had been experiencing just got way way worse. Our oral therapist couldn’t work with us anymore because my babe was so far gone, she thought it was physical. She referred us to an in home occupational therapist with oral background to help with tongue tie stuff.
This occupational therapist (this is November 29th I think, 2 days after our 4 month check up and shots and the pediatrician just basically saying all of this is just normal) asked about our baby’s poop toward the end of the visit. Asked us to send her photos. She said she’d forward them to a GI specialist friend. I think her baby had dairy issues too, so maybe she knew.. and told us that those poops looked mucusy and maybe my baby had an issue with dairy… which I didn’t understand because I was eating dairy the whole time, but the formula is more direct.
This was around December 2nd I think I was like, maybe she’s right. Okay, time to cut out dairy, I went paleo. We quit the aptamil formula for a few days and used my frozen stash (of only 60 oz, so sparingly) Two days later we went out to eat though and I had something cooked in soybean oil. Fussiness came back. So we figured soy was also a trigger a few days later... So hardcore paleo I went, plus sourdough.
My milk wasn’t gonna last forever, though. I got some gerber HA which lead to some serious stomach issues (bad gas pain, waking up screaming) we quit that one fast. They say to trial for a bit but it was clear this one was a no go. Back to my freezer stash to even LO out. 3 days worth of supplement before trying the next formula.
We switched to kendamil goat milk infant formula. We were good for about 7 days then the colic started up again. I think this protein is similar to cow milk. Once it built up, it was a no go. Back to my freezer milk.
So we asked for amino acid prescription. Neocate. This was hard because my baby really really refused it. We could only get her to drink it flavored with alcohol free vanilla and watching tv, and only 2 oz at a time. She started developing a rash on her cheek again. Really bad. We tried for a week or a bit longer but the bottle refusal was getting too bad.
At this point we also asked our pediatrician for acid reflux medication. I thought my babe had silent reflux. She had been dealing with reflux symptoms with no spit up for months but I didn’t really know/understand and my pediatrician basically said that reflux is normal in babies. My LO was 5 months at this point. This was December 29th or so. We also started solids hoping it’d help sleep issues and her drink less milk..
I had made a desperate post on human milk for human babies. Someone in our area was dairy, gluten, refined oil and soy free. We switched over and our baby started sleeping 90 min to 2 hour increments. This was December 24th.. our Christmas gift! More sleep and a bit happier baby.
Everything was getting better. I trialed oatmeal and that gave her bad gas. No go. I ate hummus and corn tortilla chips.. fussiness and gas. So I quit that.
It wasn’t too long until I realized that corn was a main thing in neocate. The rash made sense, but what didn’t was why some days my baby slept terrible and some days she didn’t.
It was the middle to end of February at this point when I realized my donor milk was causing sleep issues. This was the reason my babe only slept 90 minute increments randomly. On days we supplemented with 12 oz of donor milk we had a fussy baby with mucus poops who refused to be set down. On days where we gave 8 oz, stuff was a bit better. It was always better when we fed in the morning. Our donor eats corn a few times a week. We never know what we are gonna get but we don’t really have any other choice, so we now feed 4 oz of donor milk in the morning and I stay extremely regular with my pump schedule. I’m an under supplier with a thyroid problem and this really affects my milk release. That’s a whole other issue, but really the bane of my existence.
We saw a GI specialist at about 7 1/2 months and they basically just confirmed the allergies and said the red cheeks were definitely a sign of allergies and not teething, as they’d come and go. They talked about a feeding tube but my baby does look healthy, she’s just small. Chunky still though!
They sent us to a dietician (my baby is 1st percentile, but hey! We are finally on the charts from .3 percentile up to 1.3 and we are following our curve and it’s my milk that did that) who tried to figure out how we could get more calories in her as she randomly refuse solids.. this was at 8 months. They suggested trialing alimemtum RTF (corn free) to see if that would be better to supplement but babe started getting a rash/hives after only a day on it and fussy. I’m not sure what’s left to be allergic to besides refined oils (not in the donor milk, not in my diet)
We see an allergist on June 20th. My baby now is 10 months old in a few days. She is finally (this week) been in a weirdly very good mood. Her poop is pretty good. She’s eating 2-3 meals a day.
I think the allergies and not feeling good/needing to be held constantly by me for likely hormonal oxytocin release for her.. delayed her. We started seeing our oral therapist around 6 months again. We also saw a pediatric chiropractor at 7 months and my baby finally started rolling and doing normal baby things. She stopped swimming in tummy time and we did a lot of stretches directed via oral therapist to get body and mouth movement better and strengthening everything. She can now sit up on her own, crawled yesterday for the first time, rolls and pivots and scoots backwards, pivots in seated.. she’s on fire ! She even slept 8 hours straight yesterday! We graduated from oral therapy on Sunday.
She’s still a huge mamas girl and wants to be held by me, so I guess that might just be her personality lol.
Hopefully some of this story is helpful to you or someone else. It’s been an extremely long road and we aren’t sure we want another baby lol.

Hello, everyone! My wife (29F) has been having some chronic sinus issues and cannot seem to find the right kind of doctor to diagnose and treat it. She is around 5'2", roughly 200lbs, Mongolian, and her only current medication is a prescribed inhaler (unsure of the exact medication) and some over-the-counter nasal blockage relief such as Mucinex and Flonase. She does not use drugs, smoke cigarettes, and hardly ever drinks. We're both working on our weight and this was an issue that she had even back when she was only 160lbs early in our relationship. We live in the USA.
For the last year or two, she has been experiencing a constant issue with phlegm buildup. She complains about having to always clear her throat and that her airways feel congested. She usually lives with it and manages, but occasionally it'll become debilitating to where it impacts her breathing. We cut a Hawaiian vacation short earlier this year because even just being up walking around the beach and sidewalks was too much for her given how little she felt she was breathing. I feel awful for her and want to get her treated. She doesn't have insurance but has paid for a few different specialists out of pocket in the past, the latest being an Asthma specialist. She was prescribed 2 inhalers (one for regular use and that's extra strength which is supposed to help her when facing more serious breathing issues) but still says she feels the same even after 4ish months of using them, so she's wary to think her issue is Asthma.
She's taken to using a neti pot on occasion to clear her nose and she says she feels insanely good for awhile afterwards, maybe through the night, before she gets stopped up again. I feel like she gets a lot of ideas from friends about what to try and what doctors to see, rather than trying to really narrow it down herself. She does have a smaller, sort of flatter nose so I'm wondering if maybe her nasal passages are smaller than average and require additional support in the form of medication to allow mucus to flow more easily? I'm really just seeking some opinion about what medical path to pursue as she feels terrible draining extra money going to see specialists that aren't fixing her issues, and I just want her to have a clear, phlegm free life after years of this problem looming. Any advice or questions you may have, please feel free to let me know. Thanks!

Hey everyone , so about a month back I noticed that after a course of antibiotics, that I had some mild thrush on my tongue (just on the tongue, nothing on the cheeks or roof , no discomfort or lack of taste ).
Seems to be due to the antibiotics, and to be candida . I want to get it handled But it’s really hard to say as I am not having any symptoms of stomach upset or any real noticeable changes besides the thrush and a very small patch of eczema on my elbow (which I’ve had since before the antibiotics by about 4 months)
I already eat healthy anyways but since doing some research I cut out all carbs , sugars and dairy (minus some raw aged cheeses like gruyere And colostrum supplements , both good in their own ways for gut health & gut lining ) added ACV , kimchi , pickles , raw garlic , more onions , NAC , milk thistle , immunoglobulins, some probiotics …. I’m seeing stuff in my stool that looks something like mucus or biofilms sometimes but not really having any “die off” effects .
Anyone else have a similarly mild reaction that’s almost undetectable ? Am I just keeping it under control with the diet& pills / caught it early ? Everything I read on here sounds like it can be a pretty rough go for many folks .
Went to a clinic that specializes in Candida to get a test done but they are way too expensive , they wanted 345$ just for me to talk to a doctor for 30 minutes , the tests themselves would be another 600$ on top and then the appointment to go over the results was another 400$! Yeah right buddy . Gonna go to my GP to atleast get some nystatin oral suspension and go from there
Thanks for reading & for any input or advice !