Sayings about bedtime

It’s starting to work and I’m wow’ed. There’s such an apparent difference in task initiation, I can’t believe it and hope it continues! I don’t write on here much but now I’ve begun to refer to people as “my friends on reddit” and this thread is what helped me pull through here’s a bit of my story:

1. ⁠Female; Been on stims 12 years
2. ⁠Tried Strattera recently, I actually began to see small improvement quickly. BUT, my blood pressure increase was insane. I have heart disease in my family and regularly monitor so after a few days it was a no go. I was also so lethargic.
3. ⁠I’m extremely sensitive to medicine. My doctor suggested one of those test recently so I’ll be following up on that
4. ⁠Started on 100mg felt horrible the first 2 days, thought I might even be pregnant the nausea was so bad.. read alllll the messages here. Someone left a really helpful one about putting the capsule in yogurt, I then found another medical research paper that said it’s true, there is no difference if you do it that way. Knowing that I am sensitive, I thought what if I try half of it in yogurt….
5. ⁠So I have slowly tapered myself up over three weeks to a full 100 milligram, beginning with half a capsule sprinkled in yogurt in the morning (thanks to that girl! 🙌🏻)
6. ⁠I still felt slightly ill nearly all morning, so the past 2 nights I’ve taken it before bedtime, as someone else suggested. This has helped with the tiredness and the remainder of the nausea significantly

I’ll keep you posted, but I just wanted to say thank you to my Reddit friends. I know our doctors are experts, which is why my suggested this one, but only us know our bodies and it is important to remember that perhaps you might need to adjust to allow yours to catch up.
i’m also writing this because I am nearly 40 years old and I read so many people on here talking about their child being on it.
I CANNOT imagine putting a child on this immediately at 100 mg. What they feel is real and can be adjusted. We don’t have to suffer physically bc of ADHD. Whoever said 100 mg needed to be the minimum anyways? Pharma? Glad I tapered up!

Hey so I’m a 26 year old dude from the UK staying up past my bedtime looking for a reason not to sleep looking for some people to ask the REAL questions with, like what’s your third favourite type of shark, whats the biggest animal you could throw down with and if you had to be stuck inside a bread, what bread would it be
Here’s some (not so) interesting facts about me:
I’ve competed in a sport called powerlifting at an international level and all I have to show for it is my mum asking me to move furniture and saying “tHeRes YoUR wOrkoUt For ThE dAy”
I’ve graduated university with a maths degree (don’t ask me for help though I’m still not confident)
I play guitar and piano which has been critically acclaimed as “average”
I’ve devoted my whole life to be terrible at gaming
There’s probably even some other stuff, if you can believe that.
Feel free to message me, drop a smoke signal, shine the Batman light, whatever you feel comfortable with

So my girl is 10 1/2 months and I’m worried she might be a little behind with her speech compared to her peers. Would love any advice on this.
She will make some attempts at saying dada and baba the last month or so but it’s very occasionally and she’s said mama and a version of yeah a couple times recently but doesn’t attach any of these to the actual person. She doesn’t tend to do a lot of general baby babbling during the day like her peers who are similar age do. It’s more occasional grunts or shouts when she wants attention. She can do baby sign language for more which she also uses to ask for food too.
We do baby groups most days including sing and sign, library singing and reading and she has interactions with other kids her age most days during week too. We also do bedtime story on a night, lots of singing together and chatting about what we see on a walk or just discussing things during the day like narrating what we are doing. I feel like I’m trying as best as I can to bring her on development wise.
We are based in the UK so have a check for her due in a month when she’ll be 11 1/ 2 months so I was going to discuss this with them.

This family, Kessica and Jarl Rronnevik (names changed to protect identity) moved next door to me after this article. I am attaching an article I found about the family and wow the comments are wild. I can’t help but feel terrible for that neighbor! We don’t have a shared wall, being next door neighbors, my family has heard screaming and crying for almost an hour on several occasions. Since moving next door my life has been hell. I have had trash, screws, eggshells, light bulbs and food refuse thrown in my yard by their children. The parents refuse to discipline their kids. Instead, they stay in their house while their kids (and sometimes their children's friends) run around screaming until long after bedtime. As a result of the items their children have thrown in my yard, my elderly dog died of an obstruction because she ate an eggshell. The parents have never apologized or acknowledged the destruction of my property nor the loss of our family pet. Their kids threw tomatoes at my home and tomato juice and tomatoes were on the side of my home. I called the police and the police officer spoke to them about keeping their kids from throwing items. The parents never acknowledged it. Even at a minimum - they should have the children apologize or offer to help clean it up. Instead, I had to pressure wash to get the stains out of my vinyl siding. I'm afraid to go into my back yard when they are outside. Recently, when watering my shrubs in my backyard near the property line the father, Jarl Rronnevik (alias), decided (out of the blue) to use a weed eater to trim the grass on the chain link fence. Instead of waiting until I finished (i was in my yard at least 30 minutes watering prior to him starting his weed eater) he commences to trim near the chain link fence. I was 10 feet away and backing up to get out of the way when a metal shard hit me in the face! He had on safety glasses. I jumped as it hit me which him turn off the weed eater to (snidely) ask what was wrong with me. I told him something hit my face from the fence. Instead of apologizing, he said I should have moved while he trimmed the grass. The mother, Kessica Rronnevik (alias), has complained to all the neighbors that I have contacted the city about their garden fence being 10 foot tall (and it was) and the city made them lower it to 8 feet. I did not call. But I’m certain I know which neighbor did, and it turns out it is one of their friends. But she posts accusations on the neighborhood facebook page about how I may be calling and complaining about other neighborhood violations. I am not. I have not said anything to them or to the other neighbors about how this family has harrassed me. However other neighbors have mentioned to me how they have seen their young children on their roof while the parents are indoors. What can I do to get them to stop saying untrue things about me and throwing things in my yard ? Any ideas on how I can defend myself from the gossip she has spread about me?
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3639427/Your-baby-not-crying-loudly-long-North-Carolina-family-moves-neighbor-leaves-mean-note-one-year-old-child.html?ico=amp-comments-viewall#article-3639427

Throwaway account for privacy. I am a 23 year old mom that has 1/2-3/4 of my BEME in Aerospace Engineering (115ish credits, but a lot of electives because I got my AA while in HS). I’ve been looking at going back to school once my husband finishes up his degree (he even offered to put it on pause while I finish mine, sweet guy, but I said no, his degree will get a much quicker ROI for us). We own a house and have a 10 month old, so life is both chaotic and very rooted to one place. I currently work full time in a factory as a production advisocad drafte“engineer”/whatever else they want me to do.
All this background to say, how do older students with more external responsibilities succeed in finishing their degrees? The parts I’m thinking may be a barrier include (but are not limited to, and if there’s one I haven’t considered feel free to share): - losing a source of full time income - unable to move for internships/co-ops easily - less opportunity for extracurriculars and outside of class learning experiences - the obvious work-life balance, but that’s going to follow me regardless of if I’m at school or employed full time.
I feel like I’m much more capable of balancing the workload than I was at 19 when I dropped out, and that working full time has helped with that, but I still worry about my career trajectory since I won’t be able to take every chance that a other students might have.
Also, if anyone has some books they read/listened to that they feel like helped with their understanding of the course material, feel free to shoot those my way, I need something to read during my son’s bedtime.

I (39F) have become the primary caregiver to my 81yr old grandmother the past few years. Being a nurse and working in LTC I notice the signs of decline immediately. In the past 3 years she has noticeably given up on eating, ended up in the hospital 4x because of this so far. Says she has no appetite. In hospital she has had full head to toe work ups and is perfectly healthy as far as underlying issues, no cancer etc. We have tried the ensure thing and she refuses. But if family is around she can easily finish an entire plate making them all think she’s eating just fine. I don’t get it? Her hygiene has slipped, no longer showers regularly. She lives alone in the country about 25min away from family and absolutely refuses to move to town or accept any kind of help. She’s of sound mind and capable of making her own decisions- per the doctors standards. I have managed to get her on antidepressants which seemed to work for a while and now have plateaued but her doctor refuses to reassess them saying the one she takes is best for her to prevent further health problems. I don’t know if she’s depressed or giving up? Her only goal everyday is to wake up from bed at 11am, move to the couch and lay there all day long until bedtime at 10pm. She doesn’t call anyone anymore to talk, she doesn’t visit anyone or invite anyone out. She says she does not want to die but is perfectly content with her life and laying around all day everyday. She can no longer stand for more then 5min at a time but refuses any assistive devices. I set up a fall alarm system for her last year and she’s still mad at me about it. And she now has a cellulitis infection in her leg with severe edema( swelling) probably from laying around with no movement, poor circulation. She has been to the hospital twice now for IV antibiotics and the docs always encourage physical movement which she agrees to but then goes home back to the couch. My family is incredibly useless with helping me with her and I feel so alone and unsure what to do anymore? Pushing her makes her upset but leaving it alone allows her to lay around all day wasting away. Do I just have to somehow accept this is it for her? She’s basically just waiting to die😢

Hey docs and other practicioners,
I'm 27 yo M from continental Western-Europe. In DSM/ICD categorical terms, I suffer from GAD, MDD (multiple episodes, too many to count, started around 19, 1 suicide attempt, active and passive suicidal ideation typical during episodes), ADHD, nicotine dependecy (+possibly ASD/social anxiety/sleep apnea/convergence insufficiency but they're all things we've yet to explore).
Psycho-socially speaking I've had a very difficult childhood to say the least (though I do not feel traumatized by it, it'd be a suprise if it didn't impact my nervous system's development), dysfunctional family, in the closet as an atheist and gay man from an Arab/Muslim family, poverty, live alone on social security, never had a job, been trying to get a higher education degree since forever etc. All a complicated mess.
Mental health issues have wrecked my life and destroyed all of my dreams and ambitions, even though on paper I have the intellectual abilities to achieve them.
I thought initially that how I felt was normal, just some "shit life syndrome", so for years I've tried on my own with no success. It was only when I talked to all these people with similar backgrounds, who didn't have the same devastating mental experience as me, that I realized there was something fundamentally different about my experience of my shit life. These folks had very difficult lives and were doing ok and managed to actively work in spite of all determinisms to make it better one day, without losing hope and persevering. Some of them are already succeeding, other are still working and not giving up. Other are ok with where they are and not that pressed about their issues.
Anyway, saw a bunch of psychiatrists over the years who all ended up with the same basic diagnoses (ADHD, GAD, MDD), tried a bunch of meds with little success. Sticking with the current one because we have a good therapeutic relationship,we started everything from scratch after almost a year with no meds.
Anyway, I'm on 50mg Vyvanse, 20mg escitalopram, current psych encouraged me recently to start psychotherapy which I did, the psychologist seems good too.
It's been months now. Mentally I'm nowhere near my worst, though far far away from well, functionally there doesn't seem to be much improvement. Plus after 4 weeks on 20mg escitalopram where it felt like I was getting better, the last 3 days that uncomfortable depression/anxiety feeling is starting to creep back in out of nowhere. I'm hoping it's an anomaly.
I'm not suicidal rn but I don't know if I'll be able to spend a lifetime like this. My life is passing me by. I just want to live, move on and instead I'm this dysfunctional mess. Even if I were to stabilize, how long before tolerance/poop-out kicks in, and then back on the medication trial-and-error carousel, back on the "try this psychotherapy modality" carousel.
I don't miss a single appointment with the psychiatrist (and since recently psychologist), never miss taking meds, stopped (chain-)smoking tobacco, stopped my precious coffee. I know vaping isn't healthy but working on it. Trying to fix my sleep schedule (I have heavy "bedtime resistance") etc. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.
My only hope is future psychiatry/psychology managing to give me at least a couple of years of mental peace. If not, I'm thinking of discussing euthanasia with my doctor cause I can't spend a lifetime like this. I'd rather stop suffering now.
TLDR: little solid mental and functional advancements made for now in my mental health journey, afraid I'll spend my life trying, current options seem limited and unsustainable, thinking of opening the discussion on euthanasia if I won't ever manage to live a productive life I can be at least a little proud of.

Posting this for a very good friend of mine. I've met the dog in question many times. She is a lover and has never acted aggressively towards me.
-—-————— Way to re-home dog who bit once in defense? We adopted our sweet, smart cattle dog mix almost a year ago from a shelter. Within a week we realized she was very leash-reactive to other dogs--but the sweetest dog to all humans. We committed to keeping her past the 'trial' period, and we did extensive training. We saw slow but steady progress. And she had the chance to play with the neighbor dog unleashed and was great--regular bouncy friendly dog.
We signed her up for a recommended board and train to really tamp down her leash reactivity this summer, but right after that, had a defensive/guarding bite incident. It was the perfect storm of bad conditions: we went to a concert and the dog was in the crate longer than usual--till way past her bedtime. She hadn't eaten her food or treats in the crate. When we got home, the dog took the extra special treat and tried to hide to eat in peace. The wired kids thought it was funny to see this giant-Cheeto yak cheese dog treat, so they followed her, ignoring dog cues as she moved away and then to another room. And this is my fault, too. The kids have had the talk so many times: do not touch or bother an animal while it's eating or sleeping. And I said it again this time: "The dog has chosen this spot to eat her treat. Don't touch her." But I didn't keep them apart. So kid 1 dropped something on the floor and when he bent down to pick it up, he put his hand right on the blanket next to the treat, and his face right at her face level--and she bit him on the nose. Because it was on his face, we took him to the emergency room. It required three stitches. Now my husband says the dog should go to the shelter, but they won't adopt out "aggressive" dogs.
I took the dog to a behaviorist, who said from everything they saw, she is not aggressive and is very trainable--an excellent candidate for agility. Now she's enrolled in a two week board and train to have a place for her to be.
I'm gutted about all of this. I want to hopefully find a new home where she--newly trained, with a year of training support available and the budding career of an agility dog--can go. How do we find a good place for this sweet girl--how can we make sure she has a second chance?

hey everyone. im at my wits end with this and need some advice. my son [M7] has recently started believing he’s invisible. it started a few weeks ago when he watched a magic show on tv where the magician made people disappear. since then, he’s convinced himself that he has the same power.
at first, it was kinda cute and funny. he’d sneak around the house saying “you can’t see me” and try to steal cookies or avoid bedtime. but lately, it’s become a real problem. he’s been acting out at school, running away from teachers and saying they can’t see him. yesterday, he tried to walk across the street without looking because “cars can’t see me.” thank god i was there to stop him.
we’ve tried explaining to him that invisibility isn’t real, but he just thinks we’re part of the trick. his older sister [F10] tried to prove it by taking a video of him, but he just says the camera can’t see him either. its really starting to affect his behavior and safety, and we don’t know what to do.
i’m worried that this could be more than just a phase. should we be seeing a professional about this? has anyone else experienced something similar with their kids? any advice on how to handle this would be appreciated. we’ve tried talking to him calmly, using logic, even a little bit of tough love, but nothing seems to get through to him.
he’s a smart kid and usually very imaginative, but this is just too much. how do i break the illusion without breaking his spirit? feeling really lost here. thanks for any help you can offer.

A year and half ago one of my sons childhood friends was in a very difficult situation. She had two teenage children, a dog, two cats and had no where to go. I'll refer to her has Sheila. I'm “retired” while my husband says he's retired ( but never stopped) and we have grandkids; when my son was complaining about how he wished he had space for this friend ...I volunteered. We had the extra rooms for her and the kids, we also had the acreage for additional animals except for the cats. My husband is deathly allergic to cats. Regardless, I talked to my husband, and we then offered her the extra rooms for free. So long as Sheila finds someplace else for the cats. She agreed and she was very appreciative while also being honest with us. She has an autoimmune disease (JRA) and the youngest is autistic while her oldest is trans; she’s a chef at heart and we're retired so she'll take care of the meals. As she already had a job to work from home, those checks would go into savings.
We had a few weeks of near daily talks hashing out how this would work. I'll give the highpoints but these were the general rules:
Her rent is paid via meals. Her children do chores as they’re capable of doing them (cleaning their bathroom, vacuuming, dishes, keeping their room clean, and helping my husband to maintain the main lawn [which is maybe 1000sf] and help as requested with the farm.) She had 1 year to save up for a place of her own. To be rediscussed every 6 months.
We’ve had 3 discussions since, and no she doesn't have the money to move out in this economy. Most of this is due to the 3 hospitalizations through no fault of her own (and the way the economy keeps raw dogging everyone who doesn't have a 6 digit bank account)...we are fine with her and her kids being here. I managed to help the autistic one get into general Ed and he's on his way to graduating. I'm so extremely proud of him, he entered my house as creature who did everything he could to make himself small and acceptable to everyone else. Today, me and him can argue about moral ideologies in an heated manner and after the cool down still wants to sit with me while I watch my brain watch TV. Just the fact that he’s willing to be vocal is my pride in him; he's worked hard to get here and I'm so happy for him. I'll answer questions about that relationship if needed as I'm rambling.
After 3 months of Sheila being here I cook all the meals. She in effort at the start but now after a year and half, I'm do all the meals myself. In the times where I just can't my husband does. I think the last meal she put into this house was for the day after new years which was warming up left overs. Which is what's contributing to my attrition and may make the asshole.
My AITA is about her damn dog. I told Sheila not to give her dog a specific food. Bunny is now older and I just burried my baby boy at 20 years; 7 years after the vet said he'd live a month, I went psycho on his diet and kept him going happy and energetic for 7 years. Sheila has been fine in letting me control the animals diets. And I have become a but of a Nazi; there are some foods that a dog can have young that they can't have when they're older. Garlic is one of them. Bunny is now 7 years, I nevere let her have garlic. Sheila dropped some garlic pita chips into the flow tonight and called Bunny to eat them to clean it up. I screamed
It's a great Dane and Belgium Malinos mix and was 5 years old when I first met it. It's father was a Great Dane and the mother a Malnous-(I'm not spelling it right but I cannot get autocorrect to make it correct)-a bug lazy giant mixed with a hyper working dog. It's friggin neurotic. The first day I met it it jumped up into my face and broke my nose. To be honest she warned me it was a jumper and I didn't respect that warning.
I don't want to be disrespectful but...I broke that dog of jumping in a month of it being in my house. Not because I'd make it negative, but because I’d say no and crowd her her immediately and when she greeted people without jumping I'd get excited and give treats. As my son says, “It's the smartest dumb dog I've ever met.” It is extremely intelligent but...I feel bad for saying this-Sheila has only ever had cats. She doesn't give it direction or jobs beyond sleeping with her. When it doesn't have a job it is loud and destructive, giving itself guidance that it wants from Sheila.
In the first 6 months it destroyed our back yard fence every time Sheila left the property. I feel the behavior is because she's trained it to be by her side at all times. When she wasn't near, the Dog (named Bunny) didn't know what to do with herself and attacked the fence to try to find her. I've managed to get the dog contained, compliant, and sweet.....when Sheila is not around. If she wasn't so big I'd make her my own.
I know there are two sides of a story and I will try to account for Sheila’s but I am going to advocate for my side.
This dog entered my house barking, jumping, chewing, and spazzing as a puppy would but was actually 5 years old. Shiela just told me Bunny is now 8 years old. As long as Sheila is not around Bunny is calm, response, nondestructive, she has jobs in the house (specifically to chase squirrels out of the garden) until Sheila returns and then no matter what is going on Bunny will scream and cry to get close to Sheila.
Sheila works from home and it's generally fine except for the times when Sheila chooses that Bunny should be outside (arbitrarily). I have to deal with Bunny crying and screaming: Sheila is inside, Bunny is out, I think Bunny is neurotic because she knows Sheila is home and that her job is to be BY Sheila. Sheila’s response to this is to either ignore, scream at her, or give treats-but leave bunny outside while Sheila returns to work. Sheila is very talented at focusing on work regardless of what's going on out side. While Bunny is loosing her mind to get close to Sheila, Sheila doesn't doesn't notice unless I interrupt.
The whole goal of Sheila working is for her to save enough to get a house. I'm committed to this, so I've taken over Bunny during work hours which means two of three meals I feed Bunny. I've been feeding bunny for past year while Sheila works.
Today is apart of a two week vacation Sheila has taken for her oldest graduation. Sheila made food for bunny with Garlic in it. I saw it, and I told Sheila that Bunny is too old to have anything with garlic in it as Bunny is now 7 years old (70 years old in human years, they don't deal with toxins like they used to). Sheila got very upset with me and was very verbal that Bunny was not my dog and I had no voice it what bunny ate.
I feel that Sheila has only said this because I have spent so much time in the last year working with her dog, correcting Bunny to get positive behaviors. This summer Bunny has become very nervous about the new automatic sprinklera we have and I've been the one working Bunny through the fear she has darn near sun up to sun down.
Let me be clear, I'm only doing this now because Sheila simply removes bunny from the yard when the sprinklers start, while I have been sitting in the patio (that the sprinklers don't touch) and been trying to get her comfortable with them. They are new and scary for a dog-Sheila is too busy on the computer to work Bunny through her fears so I'm doing it.
When I work through the day with Bunny, by the afternoon timer that sets the sprinklers off Bunny is having a blast chasing and jumping through the sprinklers.
I'm a bit PO’d at Sheila's outrage and need to assert control over Bunny when I said the dog couldn't have garlic any more. I've shared my house for a year an half with 3 people and dog who all seem to have some sort of behavioral issues. I've exterted control where I can with Bunny to have nice days with own my home with her, her children, and her animals. But Bunny is Sheila's dog so....I don't have a voice.
Please don't placate or disparage; AITA and how do I move through this? It's not my dog, they’re not “famil”y, but I honestly want to continue to help all of them. Including Bunny. I need to find a way to get Sheila on board; she doesn't seem to have the time or patience for Bunny beyond bedtime.
P.S. knowing how reddit commentors can go: I don't argue structure or consequences in regards to her children and I've adapted as Sheila has requested. She simply doesn't have any structure for Bunny, while she enjoys the consequences my structure on Bunny.....she now seems to resent that. As it's only resently she's been putting her foot down about Bunny.
While I'm of the mindset: Bunny is her very first dog, her words, she had only had cats before hand. Sheila did pick a mixed breed but...my god did she pick an unpredictable mix. I've adapted as much as I can to help this dog find calm and connectedness. I love Bunny and I've spent so long working on her poor behaviors, editing her diet, giving her a job and a space that belongs to her inside and outside the house. I just want Bunny to live as long and happy as possible but feel if I put my foot down, I'm the asshole.
Mind the Autocorrect. I've re-read 3 times now and still find crappy misspelling and worse grammar as I've only used Reddit on mobile and make a mash of it every time I do. My apologies.
Edit: I'm sorry, I wrote this while having an argument with Sheila. Bunny is 7-8 years old per Sheila just a it ago; she's unsure of the digs age and has only guessed when talking about Bunny. Sheila said she thinks Bunny was 1 to 2 years old when she got her. My jumping in ages of 7 to 8 to 7 is just me being inaccurate as me and Sheila yell at each other and me typing In here in the lulls.
This is a very active argument. That does NOT end in be evicting them.

So my spouse moved out of the house to his office (in our property) about 1 month ago, due to my poor behavior (poor emotional regulation and raging when I feel dismissed and unheard). I stupidly texted him to check on him after he went to his office/bedroom seeming unsettled for an unknown (to me) reason. A few hours later, I found myself thinking fondly of him and the live he has shown me, so I checked in with him to see if he was any better. He said he was a bit better and wanted to know what was on my mind. I confessed to was thinking about him, and checking to see if he was doing any better. After I vulnerablly confessed I had been thinking about him, his next two responses were reticent two word responses, so I made the poor assumption that my confession of thinking about him had upset him (he goes from hot to cold as quickly as I do these days). After his two word answers, I responded "I am guessing my honesty means we are done talking." And then I was told I was being passive aggressive and that I had a "twisted perspective". My response was "It was not meant to be twisted. If my interpretation was wrong. I am sorry.". Then the situation was cleared up and he was off to bed. He 'called me out' on what he felt was my 'poor' behavior as usual and does not see how his response was dismissive to my vulnerability. He hasn't read any of my responses after that, keeping to his boundaries I'm guessing, but to which one I don't know. I'm upset that I was dumb enough to text him in my vulnerability only to be met with mono symbol answers and then attacked for misinterpreting them as him shutting down because I had been honest in admitting that I was thinking about him. Why do I feel like he only sees a black/white view of me, when he constantly calls me out on that? I hate seeing myself through his eyes when they seem so full of dusdain for me. I know that I have hurt him but I hate that I see so much disdain towards me that it makes me doubt that he still loves me. But if he only feels contempt for me, I can't blame him. But I keep holding out that contempt isn't all he feels for me, even if that seems to be what I feel most often from him these days. Maybe I am just being emotionally disregulated or pessimistic or whatever other BPD characteristic that this can be seen as, and maybe it's not. IDK, my gut tells me one thing but I know he would say another. I feel confused, accused, dismissed and so very alone in all of it. Why can't I just do what a normal person would do? I pray multiple times a day that God will just let me die (since I have promised not to KMS), my bedtime prayer has turned into a plee for God to let me sleep and not wake up. But I know when my damn alarm goes off, I will still be here, dealing with the consequences of my messed up head. drowning in sorrow for the life I dreamed of, guilt & shame for the life I have made because of my own choices. Dear God, maybe you will hear my prayer if I put it on line-since my verbal prayers continue to go unmet- be with my husband and give him peace and healing for the past, the present and the future. And please let me I fall asleep, and not ever wake up, or heal my broken mind so that I can stop hurting all those around me.

So my 5 mo baby has been sleeping in her own crib for a month now, she's goes down great with no fuss at her 7pm bedtime and seems to genuinely enjoy sleeping in her crib. She's even cool with being put in "drowsy but awake".
The problem is she's waking up every 3 hours to eat (bf), she wakes up whining, but the longer she goes without eating the more upset/crying she gets. Once she eats (breast, pumped bottle, doesn't really matter which) she's content to go right back down.
My supply is fine, always had a secure latch, and is generally is the 70's percentile for growth so I know shes getting a good amount per feed.
We started introducing a bit of avocado about a week and a half ago hoping that'll help but she's still getting the hang of the whole eating thing and Im just so desperate to sleep more than 3 hours stretches I'll try anything in the meantime at this point.
Thanks!
(Edit: Wondering if this is a stupid or commonly asked question? Saw down votes and wanted to make sure my sleep deprived brain didn't say something dumb 😅)

This month my husband has gone on 3 trips - all 3-4 days in length. This latest one was to visit some friends and the previous 2 were for work. He thanked me for letting him go and said how much he missed us and what a great time he had. He said it will make a huge difference to his mental health.
My daughter (16 months old) has been having a grumpy day. I gave her some dinner and she just tossed the food on the ground. I moved her high chair (with her in it) to clean her up close and get her milk ready. When I opened the fridge she pulled out a glass jar that shattered all over the floor. My husband starts angrily cleaning up and muttering under his breath. And then he gets all pissy with me (or he is just frustrated with the situation and is taking it out on me).
He acts like he is so inconvenienced by everything. He has to clean up some glass? Pissed for the rest of the day. Baby is having a bad day? The noise is giving him a headache and he can’t deal with it. He has to work an extra half hour to an hour to finish something for his job? He cannot do anything else (he works from home half the time).
I’m exhausted from being up all night? He says how much it sucks and then he says he’s going to game with his friend.
I’ve been alone with our very active toddler for half of this month, while also working a full time job (that is just as busy and stressful as his). I also do all the daycare drop offs and pick ups. Bedtimes. Nighttime wake ups. Morning wake ups. Most of the household tasks and he has the nerve to be pissy about some broken glass?
And the worst part is that i feel like I have to be calm and patient and understanding and engaged with our toddler for the both of us. I have to keep the peace because if he gets frustrated or upset, that’s it for the rest of the day. Even when I’m losing my mind from exhaustion and my daughter only wants me, I still have to deal with it. I don’t get to be pissy and angry and sulk because nothing would ever get done.
I’m not looking for advice. I know perfectly well that this is all BS. I just wanted to rant and feel like you Bromos will understand.

(Please ask me what it is)
Hey so I’m a 26 year old dude from the UK staying up past my bedtime looking for a reason not to sleep
Here’s some (not so) interesting facts about me:
I’ve competed in a sport called powerlifting at an international level and all I have to show for it is my mum asking me to move furniture and saying “tHeRes YoUR wOrkoUt For ThE dAy”
I’ve graduated university with a maths degree (don’t ask me for help though I’m still not confident)
I play guitar and piano which has been critically acclaimed as “average”
I’ve devoted my whole life to be terrible at gaming
There’s probably even some other stuff, if you can believe that.
Feel free to message me, drop a smoke signal, shine the Batman light, whatever you feel comfortable with

Currently up at 4am with our two month old. Wife was supposed to go out for a local mom's meetup tonight. I was looking forward to having some alone time to catch up on some gaming once the baby was down (she usually goes down around 8pm then wakes up again around 3am for a feed), for the first time since baby was born.
Instead wife had a hard time going to sleep the previous night and decides she's too tired to go out tonight. So there goes my alone time even before baby goes down. Wife asks if it's OK that I still handle baby's bedtime and night feed as that was the arrangement we agreed on had she gone out because she's very tired from the previous night. Of course I say yes.
I get the baby down at 8pm, come downstairs and we decide to watch a movie. Literally 10 minutes into the movie, baby wakes up (literally only the third time in the past month or so that she's woken up after she's down for her night sleep). Wanting my wife to get a proper break as if she had gone out, I go up and spend an hour putting the baby back to sleep. By the time I was done it's pretty much my own bedtime.
Now I'm up doing the night feed, doomscrolling and I see that a "friend" who recently got married and who I helped with getting her marriage documents sorted had a dinner party to celebrate their marriage registration, didn't invite me, despite saying while I was helping her with the marriage documents that her new husband has to leave the country soon after their marriage registration but hopes that I can meet him "next time". Who was there though? My other friend who's the kind of deadbeat dad you see moms ranting about on the mom subreddits. Always out going to his car meetups or parties leaving his wife at home with their kids. Now he's there at the wedding with his wife and kids because they're less strict about their kids bedtime and can actually go out at night. Other friends there are all childless.
I know, stay off social media, comparison is thief of joy etc. Just hard to ignore when you're up at 4am trying to put baby back to sleep an your earphones are out of battery so can't watch anything.
Rant over.

Follow up to previous post. Can't access original throw away.
I need to try and talk to 41M because I don't think he realises how bad the situation is from my point of view. Thing is he's so self absorbed with work and himself that he can't see how unhappy and exhausted I am.
Also, he is not prepared to entertain a discussion if it differs from how he wants things to be. I know he's not prepared to work less. I know he's not prepared to help more. But I need to give him the opportunity to prove me wrong.
I also, don't want my daughter to not have a father.
But I'm not sure I can even fall in love with him again and can a leopard really changes his spots? I'll be left doing every school run, bedtime, and birthday party until she's old enough to go on her own.
If I try and talk to him about anything he's gets defensive and says "that's the way it is, I can't change, I don't have capacity, etc." and then he will either shout at me to leave him alone and go in a different room (if I follow he continues shouting to be left alone) or leaves the house entirely.
How am I even supposed to have an open and honest conversation that drives change?
How do I know if I even want that & when is it time to call it a day?
I've spent all day out with our little girl on my own again today. I love our time but I'm so tired & sad & angry & resentful. I shouted at him and then I apologised. When did I become such a door mat?

So my daughter has always enjoyed us reading books to her. We were easily reading five books a day. She’s 20months now and for the past month or so she suddenly has lost all interest in us reading to her and just wants to page through the books on her own. She likes for us to be engaged in the book with her but she’s also happy to sit on her own and go through it. Now instead of reading books to her before bedtime she picks a book and we sit down together while she flips through and I’ll point to things and say something about it or say something about something she points to and just generally try to keep interested. I know reading to little ones is so important to their development so we worry that we are harming her by not reading but she also really doesn’t want us to read the books to her! I guess I’m wondering if anyone else has gone through something like this? Does anyone have anything to glean about this behavior? Please share!

Hi, I know some of you have been interested in Joost’s written stuff, so this is one of them. It’s a short story that Joost wrote for Boekenweek voor Jongeren (Book Week for Young People) in 2019. There’s more info about it here (in Dutch) https://www.vice.com/nl/article/qvgzpv/joost-klein-schreef-een-kort-verhaal-over-een-wilde-nacht-in-berlijn and there was also this promo video for it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx7wxnpxps0. It's been translated from Dutch - maybe not the most perfect translation but it's readable. Original in Dutch here. Enjoy

"How come he suddenly has cash?" I looked at Gurb, but he avoided my gaze. Louis never had money and yet he was buying another round. Meanwhile, a Moby song was playing and nothing made sense. "If he has money for drinks, he can surely pay me back, right?"
Just a few hours ago, I was alone in Berlin. Now, ten hours later, I'm standing in some obscure techno club with my best friends. Loud rock music with drunken shouting. "Hey, Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?" I woke up that day with a mild hangover from the lonely yet people-filled night before. Perfect conditions for a 20-year-old dropout.
The Hard Rock Café was the most beautifully ugly place in Berlin. Gurb had driven for seven hours straight in his mother's car, but we didn't notice. An iconic black Mini Cooper. Your body leads your mind, the beat never stops, and you can conquer the world. Louis threw in another crazy dance move. We were happy.
"Do you want another drink, brother?" Gurb asked me, half shouting. An evening filled with rhetorical questions. He saw me dancing and already knew the answer.
Gurb always had money. Louis, on the other hand, never did. Louis was also the youngest of us three. He had just turned 18. I wouldn't call him a cunning fox. More like a jack-of-all-trades. Like the time he made a lot of money on a Wadden Island with a group of boys. They sold large blocks of hash.
"Crazy dude!" I shouted at him. He yelled something back.
"Do you remember back then?" Louis said.
"Back then? Back then? Yeah man, of course!" I had no idea what he meant. "Do you mean the party?"
"Do you mean the party, he says! This guy. When I look at you like this, it makes me happy. The exact same kid is here letting loose just like back in high school!"
We knew each other from secondary school. He joined when I was in the second grade. He was very intelligent. Too young, too much knowledge of the world. His mother is from Brazil. We often went to his mother's place to play on the Playstation Louis and I had bought together.
I lived everywhere at that time. In the crisis shelter where I stayed for a while, for example, I wasn't allowed to have a Playstation. So we set it up in an accessible place, near school. It was always fun with Louis. Going together to the Apple Store. Taking all kinds of photos with all the webcams, posting them on Hyves, and then leaving. Louis always knew how to cheer me up.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!" There was Gurb with five drinks in his hands. Gurb was wearing a blue checkered shirt. Two buttons undone. Hair slicked back. "You look good, brother!"
"You look fresh too! We all look fresh!" Gurb said enthusiastically. Louis was wearing a completely white outfit. We quickly bought this before going out. He also bleached his hair.
"You look like the Brazilian cousin of James Dean in these clothes," I said. Louis laughed. "Let me take a picture."
Suddenly, the DJ switched to some kind of techno. "Ah, here Berlin briefly takes off its mask." I was fine with it all. Louis was talking to a lady.
Voluptuous breasts, I thought to myself. He gave her one of his two drinks.
"He's with a girl and he's thinking with his dick," I said to Gurb. "Let him be, tonight Berlin is ours!"
The bass kept pounding. "I simply don't have the patience for the club," I said to Gurb. He looked surprised. Like a sweet dog, tilting his head. "I'm just waiting for tomorrow. Can't do my thing here. Don't have patience for the already known. I want adventure and I want it now!"
Gurb started laughing. "Patience is a virtue." Yes. Patience is all well and good, but I think it's a waste of my time. Gurb grabbed my shoulder.
"I think it's time for another beer."
Louis and I were walking through Leeuwarden a year ago when suddenly a red Ford Ka stopped in front of us. It was Gurb, casually driving around the city. He invited us into his car. We hopped in. Since that afternoon, the three of us were together. A few months later, Louis got a tattoo on his ribs in honor of our friendship. It was the name of our group chat. Braddar Force Indigo.
There were also days when Gurb would take me for a drive around Friesland. He reminded me how beautiful Friesland is. The world doesn't spin there. The newspapers I threw away in the Stiens forest in 2011 could still be lying in the same spot, so to speak.
Just before midnight, I found myself in line for the restroom. My eyes fell on a pair of striking shoes. Cigarette smoke invaded my nose for the fourth time. "Müssen Sie eine Zigarette haben?" a female voice spoke to me. I felt like Tom Hanks in the final scene of Angels & Demons, where the new pope first steps onto the balcony. The curtains opened. There I was, witnessing an important moment in history. I was just told how I was sent by God, but my ears didn't want to hear any of it. At least that's how I felt. My mouth was empty. I had no words left. That's when I knew for sure. Berlin might really be as crazy as literally everyone says.
Dark blond, silky hair. Was this real beauty then? She wouldn't look 40, but I think she was. A true woman. Beautiful in all her elegance. I always joked about being interested in older women, but tonight one stood in front of me. "I don't smoke," I said to her.
Someone tapped me. "Please, just go to the toilet!" He was right. I hadn't peed in a while either. My urine was cloudy. "Glomerulonephritis," I said to myself on the toilet. This is an unusual condition. It's an inflammation in the kidneys, I thought I remembered. They should never have given me access to Google.
The evening progressed, and Louis kept buying rounds. "But seriously now. How does Louis suddenly have all that money for drinks?" I asked Gurb. He was outside smoking with a group of Swiss girls. I had strategically positioned myself so that I could always leave the crime scene if necessary.
"You shouldn't ask me," said Gurb. He was laughing with the temporary girlfriend group of Louis. Gurb has a beard. A lot of chicks like that. I get it too.
As much as I enjoyed Louis and Gurb being here for me, something didn't sit right with me. It couldn't just be about the money. "What's up with him?" I heard one of the Swiss girls say to Gurb.
Those kinds of questions really tire me out. "Not much, with you?" I replied.
They all started laughing. "That's not what she meant, brother," said Gurb.
"I couldn't care less whether she meant it or not. Send that brace-face back to Switzerland. Don't drive me crazy, alright!"
Actually, I hadn't drunk that much that evening. "Two vodka Sprites, please!" It's rare for me to get just one drink. "I always get two drinks, then you have to wait shorter for the third one!" Maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I wanted to admit. Oh well, it was still the three of us against the world.
"Nice shoes, are those Prada?" I asked a random girl at the bar.
"No, these are fake. Why would I buy real ones for 600 dollars if I could just buy these for 20?"
"..."
I'm not very good at that. Talking. To women.
Louis and Gurb were in the smoking area now. It was less blue than the dance floor itself. My clothes already stank, so a visit to the smoking area couldn't hurt. "These people are so underground!" Gurb shouted. Louis was filming him with his phone. "These people..." There was a brief pause. As if Gurb forgot the only line he had. "...so underground!" All three of us burst into laughter. The alcohol flowed through our veins as if it came from the purest mountains. People seemed doubled and the room was full. We had been in the same club in Berlin for several hours.
"Leonardo! What are you hiding from the big boss?" I sometimes called Louis ‘DiCaprio.’ "You a rich guy, now?" I said, with an accent as if I were from the Bronx.
Louis started laughing. "Eh, you know nothing. Bullshit talk."
I had to laugh too. What was I even worried about? Friends are friends, with or without money. That shouldn't matter. Louis probably just worked for that money. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe he just had enough to buy rounds. But what if my gut feeling was right? That feeling was never wrong. Except for that one time at the Holland Casino in Groningen. Even the best of us have slip-ups. I was just getting worked up again. When it comes down to it, Louis is one of the sweetest guys I know. I had to let it go. After all, it's still Louis.
"I think I'm going to have sex soon, man," Louis said.
"With who?" I asked immediately.
"That one girl."
"Which one?"
"The one with the boobs."
"Oh, her. Just be careful."
"What kind of reaction is that?" Louis asked indignantly.
I'd only had four drinks, but I was acting like a mess. Louis was right. I didn't understand myself. Where was my head at? I'm here in Berlin, supposed to be having the time of my life, but here I am feeling lonely and sad again. Joost once again couldn't control his emotions.
"Sorry," I suddenly said to Louis. "Sorry for my behavior. Been acting dumb towards you all night. It's unnecessary." Sometimes I have that. Mood swings. "Know that crime is never the solution. We've talked about this so many times. Yes, it's tempting and sometimes easy money. I sometimes find it amusing too, but it's always hypothetical. Ask me for help. I can help you, even with illegal things. I'll always have your back." The dancing was kind of over.
The words I had just placed on Louis's plate came from my heart. My Frisian, irregular boys' heart.
Crying in the club. I had never seen myself like that. Crying, yes. In the club, no. I never understood the taboo around crying. Or emotions in general. I saw myself in the mirror. They weren't tears of joy. They weren't tears of sadness either. It was me letting everything go. All the emotions I had ever felt. The emotions I felt between my brother and sister and myself because they wanted to take on a parental role over me, but I was in puberty, so I pushed them away. The emotions I felt when my old neighbors were supposed to take care of my dog, but didn't tell me that he was bitten by one of their dogs. They didn't have money for the surgery, they later told me. They were ashamed of their lack of money. My dog died from this injury. Even the emotions that were all jumping at once during the retake for my swimming diploma A, I let go of.
No emotions. Just for a moment, not feeling anything. Is that too much to ask for?
"You still don’t smoke?"
It had to be the voice of the woman with the cigarettes. I looked over my shoulder through the mirror. It was her. The one with dark blond, silky hair.
"Not to be rude, but this is the men’s room," I said. She took a step closer and kissed me on my lips. It tasted like more. We started kissing. It had been a while since I had had female contact at this level. It probably didn't look good and it didn't feel good either. She started kissing my neck. Slowly, I noticed the pressure in the erectile tissues of my penis starting to increase. "I really don't have time for this!" I thought to myself. The woman with the cigarettes started to slowly sink down until she was on her knees. I didn't want this. Not now, not like this. She unraveled my penis from my Polo Ralph Lauren underwear. Her tongue was blue. It was probably from cheap shots of alcohol.
Was this real beauty then? Was this the beginning or the end of her story? And had I become the boy my parents hoped I would be? I thought about the fact that this was once someone's little daughter. Somewhere in the world, an old man might be wondering what his daughter is doing. Am I really putting pleasure above my own morals and values?
With my semi-erect circumcised penis still exposed, I lifted her up. After giving her a kiss on her forehead, I pulled up my pants and left the toilets.
It was the usual last hour in any club ever. I met Louis and Gurb at the bar. "Should we have another drink?" I asked Gurb. "I feel like having a cocktail. Something sweet. Lots of sugar. What about you?"
Gurb looked at the menu. "A cognac would go down well right now."
"A cognac? You're only nineteen!" Gurb and Louis laughed. "Two Tequila Sunrises please!" I called to the bartender. "Also, two beers! Thanks!" I also got a beer for Louis. At first, I didn't want to, but I didn't want to spoil the mood either. Besides, I didn't want to show too much that it bothered me so much.
We danced away the last minutes. The club closed, and we decided to walk with the group of Swiss girls. Apparently, they were staying nearby.
As I lagged behind the group, one of them tried to start a conversation with me. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly.
"I'm fine. Just had too much beer. Makes me sleepy." Not true at all, but I've heard people say that.
"You’re tired? The fun has only just began!" And as she said this, she pulled something out of her inner pocket. Her clenched fist, shielded by a half jacket. Who is this girl, anyway? I thought to myself. She opened her hand flat, and right in the center of her palm lay two small pills with a smiley face on them. At least, they looked like it.
"Oh, I don’t do drugs. Sorry."
"Me neither!" And she swallowed a pill. "Now it’s your turn... Or are you scared?"
Scared? Who did this crazy Swiss witch (with really beautiful eyes) think she was. With her "are you scared". I'll show her who's scared.
"Scared? I’m not scared." I picked up the remaining pill and swallowed it.
Everything went in slow motion. Was this who I had become? Was this the same boy from high school? And just before I could swallow, I spat out the pill. She was shocked. I picked up the pill again, dried it with my jacket, and put it back in her fist. "Maybe later!" I shouted, running back to the group, over my shoulder.
I have nothing to say to 9 out of 10 peers I come across. Of course, I can be social. I can also have fun with random people in random situations, but that night, it just tired me out. I also didn't understand what we were doing there. Those girls found me strange anyway. Suddenly, I was the fifth wheel.
"We know this place where they go until 7 in the morning!" The girl leader of the group spoke. I wanted to go home. "If you guys want, you can go. Don't worry about me," I said to Gurb and Louis. The boys had a brief discussion. We agreed to stay for just a little while longer for some drinks. I consented. I was thirsty. "I'll have a Fanta, Louis."
Gurb had reached the last cigarette in his pack. Louis and a girl from the group were nowhere to be found. It didn't even bother me. This guy just walks around with some cash in his pocket and all hell breaks loose. After a night full of stimuli, I understood Louis. Of course, I understood Louis. He's a young god. Handsome, smart guy. But that didn't make me any less angry. It was purely about trust for me. Something inside me said I should stop subconsciously expecting things from people too. It prevents disappointment.
"Hotel please!" I jokingly suggested to Gurb. "Should you call Louis or should I?" I added. Gurb immediately grabbed his Android smartphone and called Louis. He put the call on speaker.
"Are you ready?" Gurb asked.
"Yeah. Sort of."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't have sex."
"That's fine, right? Tomorrow's a new day!"
"I think I'm in love, man," Louis said.
"...," Gurb said, chuckling as he let out a sigh.
Once we arrived at the girls' hostel, it was already getting light. Louis was thankfully back. There were stains on his pants, around his knees. My focus was solely on arranging a taxi. Although the boys were still flirting, I was really done now. "How are we going to pay for this taxi?" I said a bit too loudly.
There was a silence. "Don't worry. I still have cash," Gurb said.
"Yeah, I knew you would," I replied.
My words clearly hit Louis. "What do you mean by that?" he said.
It was as if time stood still for a few seconds. "Exactly what I said. Better listen." Louis pulled out a small wad of green bills from his pocket. At least 400 euros. "I don't even want to see that money," I reacted. I walked away.
I'll just order a taxi myself.
"Why are you walking away now?" Gurb said.
"Twelve hours ago, I was alone too, and I had a lot more fun then."
"Do you really want to know how I got this money?" Louis said.
Yes, I did want to know. My whole evening revolved around that damn money.
He took a second of pause before he began speaking. "The answer lies in the Mini."
What on earth could be in Gurb's mother's car? Louis was trying to get into my head. "Taxi!"
Once in the taxi, the division was clear. Gurb was upfront, chatting animatedly with the driver. All adventures ever were recounted. Louis and I in the back. One of my best friends since I was thirteen. Funny how things turn out. It was quiet between us. I was in my head, rehearsing how I would bring up the money again. It didn't add up, and he knew it himself. "I don't care, you know," I said, hoping he'd break.
"What don't you care about?"
"About that money."
"What money? You're really a crazy woozy man." Louis burst out laughing again.
On the other hand, it was silent. Gurb had started talking about the driver's family. The driver didn't appreciate it. Gurb meant well. The driver smelled of alcohol. Or was it me? His nails were polished. Maybe his wife was a specialist. I bite my nails myself. Like now.
"In the Mini, oh yeah."
"Shut up. Illegal man."
"You'll never know."
"Stop playing. Just say it!"
Louis grabbed my head, pulled himself towards me, and brought his mouth to my right ear. "Why so serious?" he whispered. He didn't want to tell me.
"But always with this damn money, huh?" I almost shouted at Louis. I broke every silence within a radius of 10 kilometers.
"I'm trying my best, bro. It is what it is. I can't make it any different," he replied. It was clearly bothering him deeply. He ran his hands through his hair. "Sometimes people have to do things. And you know that better than anyone. Sometimes they have to do things they don't really want to or aren't supposed to do."
I knew this spiel all too well. Through all the drunken haziness, I suddenly saw a small glimmer of light. A tiny spark of sincerity. Louis was serious this time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to involve you in this. I'm sorry," sweat dripped from his forehead.
"You're serious, huh? Damn, man. What mess have you gotten yourself into now? Worse than Terschelling?" Worse than Terschelling would mean stolen goods. Maybe even violence.
"It's not what you think."
"The Adlon Hotel, right?" the driver chimed in. Always saved by the bell, that Louis.
Suddenly I hit my head against the seat in front of me. Of course, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. The last thing I saw was Gurb waking up in panic from his drunken stupor. One by one, I started losing my senses. It started with the feeling in my fingers. For a brief moment, everything wasn't quite black, and I could only see a vague pattern of colors repeating inside my eyelids. You could compare it to the brief moment after the commercial break before the movie starts in the cinema. The movie was about to begin.
I knew I wasn't dying. At least not yet. Not like this. Not after an overall mediocre night out in Berlin. I found comfort in the image I forced myself to see. It was all in my head. There I was, unconscious.
I saw myself in a third-person point of view. It wasn't like I was actually leaving my body. More like there was a webcam hanging in one of the upper corners of the taxi.
As a child, I used to dream a lot about death. Nights spent awake.
At some point, I developed a kind of compulsive behavior. I kept swaying my torso from left to right with my hands under my head. It became almost like a workout before bedtime. Every night.
I called it dream shuffling. Just like I had learned to shuffle puzzle pieces or playing cards. Making things a little exciting for yourself. But what I almost never told anyone was that I was scared. I was afraid of burglars, who were very agile and muscular.
Especially afraid that they would murder me. I really wanted to know what death was like. It scared me.
These fear visions originated during an all-inclusive vacation in Turkey. I was 6 years old and already in bed. There was a big old TV in our hotel room, so I could secretly watch TV from bed. Every evening, my parents sat on the balcony. Here they discussed their day while enjoying a glass of alcohol. There was a Japanese animated series on TV. In the few seconds that I watched, I saw a scary creature climbing a sort of apartment complex via the balconies. The creature had hundreds of teeth and blond hair. It quickly entered to decapitate the people, then drained them and, as a final insult, robbed them. Dozens of carcasses of dead people were scattered around the apartment complex. The complex on TV resembled the resort where we were in reality, and the TV world merged with my surroundings. I became part of it. I saw people watching. No matter how loudly I screamed for help, they didn't react. The sun became very bright, and the people turned into nothing more than shadows. As the intensity of the sun increased, something became clear to me. These were not people. They had a sort of orange skin. Where I had previously thought it was their nose and mouth, it turned out that these shadowy figures did not have such physical features. They simply had three holes in their heads. The police tried to do something, but in vain. Since then, we always kept the light on in the hallway outside my bedroom. By rocking back and forth, from left to right, I could glance fleetingly at the beam of light under the door. That bit of light, escaping from the hallway into my room, gave me an advantage. It allowed me to stay one step ahead of the burglars. Pretty smart, right?
"From Jamaica to the world!
It’s just love. Why must the children play in the street?"
It was Bob Sinclar with "Love Generation" speaking to us through the taxi's speakers. We were stationary. I was conscious again, but I didn't feel alive at all. "How long was I out?" I asked Louis.
I could tell by his expression that he was relieved. Relieved that I was back. "One minute," he almost apologized. Louis gave me a pat on the shoulder. Gurb, on the other hand, was sleeping. He slept like a baby cub.
I put my right index finger on my forehead. It felt wet, but it wasn't blood. Blood feels different. Meanwhile, I kept hearing whistling.
"Be the love generation! Oh yeah!" It was still that same song by Bob Sinclar.
The earlier scent of alcohol had now been replaced by the smell of incense. It smelled like the same incense I had in my room. Sold to me as Tibetan 39 incense. I had bought it at a coffee shop in Rotterdam. I pulled up my notes on my phone. "Who lights incense in a CAR????" I let Louis read from my screen. He took the phone from my hands and started typing as well.
"Look at Gurb >>>" Gurb was so deeply asleep that his head drooped. His seatbelt held his torso in place, but his head ended up on the driver's shoulder. The man didn't mind. He didn't move. I made eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and soon I found him. He winked at me.
We arrived at the hotel. Gurb awakened from his alcoholic hibernation. "Who's going to pay for the taxi?" I asked. Clearly rhetorical. I already knew I would take this one for the team, as usual. I refused to use Louis's money. It was uncomfortably quiet. "By card please," I said.
"I'll always protect you, Louis. You really need to know that. I care about you like my own little brother. I'll always try to help you. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that?" Louis didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Yes, I can. I'll show you. It's really in the Mini." Meanwhile, the taxi driver's card machine indicated that I had insufficient funds. That couldn't be right. Maybe I had withdrawn too much that evening.
"I have cash in the hotel room," Gurb said to me. Gurb informed the driver in broken English that he would go get his cash. The driver agreed. Money is money, whether it comes now or later. As long as it feels good in your hands.
Louis and I got out of the taxi. "You're not going to light a cigarette now, are you?" Louis wanted to smoke. "Especially for stress. That's really for people who can't handle pain. You need to feel pain. Pain needs to brand you for the rest of your life so you finally learn not to do such stupid things." It fell silent again. My blood boiled. All pots were on the stove. I felt like Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen. "Show me then. Do it."
Louis remained silent and walked around the corner of the hotel. Towards the parking lot. I followed him. "You're not going to find much," said Louis.
"Why not? Are you a magician?"
"No. Just. Not much."
"So there's suddenly magically nothing in Gurb's car?"
"Stop. Get out. Get out of my head!" Louis shouted. Louis had had enough. He was done with the parade. Normally we dealt with hypothetical stories. Only this time it wasn't a joke. I was sure now. Louis had dropped his mask. The revolution had begun. The government had fallen and the dikes had broken. The people were in charge. "You shouldn't freak out like this. Always wanting more. Sweet boy, think about yourself."
After Gurb gave the money to the driver, he came to us. He had a smile on his face, lit a cigarette, and exclaimed, "Brothers!" Once with us, he hugged me. He started laughing. "Maybe I haven't been entirely honest either." Sometimes Gurb seemed like a 38-year-old man. In a positive way. He exuded confidence in a way I didn't often see. Affectionate, with a hint of authority.
We stood in the middle of a large parking lot. "Look. We've reached a point where I might not even care anymore. You guys are teasing me." It did matter to me. Maybe more than ever. I was supposed to be two steps ahead of them, but I couldn't figure it out. "I give up."
The delightful silence returned. Louis and Gurb looked at each other. "You guys win. Apparently, I'm not to be trusted as a friend."
From Louis's expression, I could tell he disagreed with this. "Not true. Come to the car."
We arrived at the car. Louis unlocked it and searched for the trunk button. Gurb had started his third cigarette. "It's a corpse, isn't it? Say it now. I can still help you. I can still help us. I can book a ticket for you. We can get you out of here," I said to Louis.
"Just wait. Nutcase."
"Why won't you accept my help?"
Louis started laughing nervously. Or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps a sly laugh too. Had Louis killed someone? "It's not a corpse. That can't be. You wouldn't be stupid enough to use their ID. You're smarter than that. So it must be something stolen. Haven't you found that button yet?"
Suddenly, we heard a click. Louis had found the button. Somewhere, I didn't want to know. Shouldn't I just trust Louis? Wasn't that the whole point of friendship?
Finally, the moment had arrived. I placed my right hand in the slot of the rear hatch. Something in me doubted. Still. I still doubted. Louis looked dead serious. "You wanted to know, didn't you? Then you also have to be man enough to accept it." Louis was clearly not joking. Or was he acting again? "Pussy," Louis said. I looked away. "You're afraid of what's inside, huh? You're afraid of the real Louis." He began to laugh manically. "Open that thing, man. Nutcase!"
I started laughing too. Why did I make such a big deal out of it? Sweat broke out from every pore in my body. It was even a bit damp in the no man's land between my scrotum and my anus. A tropical climate. It had been quite an adventure the whole evening. I took my hand off the rear hatch and first gave Louis a hug. Not some half-hearted birthday wish. No, a real hug.
"It's okay, buddy," Louis said to me. I had no idea what he meant by that. It fit the moment though.
It was really time now. I opened the rear hatch.
"Where is it?"
"In front of you," said Louis.
"In some secret compartment?"
There was nothing in the trunk. Absolutely nothing. An empty trunk. For an empty evening, in an empty Berlin, with an empty group of guys. I didn't get it.
"You won, man," I whispered. "You finally fucking done did it."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Empty? There was still nothing in the car. Louis just stood there. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I had felt every emotion this evening. Seen every color and smelled every scent. I was done. My body was ready. No longer needed. My mission was complete.
"But why did you do this?" I asked Louis, laughing.
He scratched his chin. It felt like the end of a bad movie.
"I sold our Playstation. Wanted to tell you only after I had sorted everything out again. I terminated my lease. Had some debts, and I also wanted to have some money for once. Once not empty-handed in the club. Once not dependent on my best friends. This is not who I am... I know how much that Playstation meant to you. It was ours together. I should have just told you."
"… and how does Gurb actually make his money?"

Clive's fate:
I'm a believer that Clive died at the end of FF16. I felt that way after beating the main story and having completed ALL the extra side quests... but more so after finishing the "Rising Tide" DLC. There are two conversations that take place in it that solidify my reasoning.
First conversation: After kicking Leviathan's ass.... (this DLC takes place BEFORE Clive fights Ultima btw), both Shula (new character npc) and Clive talk about the future; "saving the world" and creating a new one in which people, "bearers / non-bearers," can live as "equals." She tells Clive it's a "noble endeaver," makes mention to Welias (a baby and Leviathan's former dominant) that there will be a place for both of them in this new world, and concludes by telling Clive that her village, Mysidia, will be waiting "until the tides bring him back to shore."
Now as we all know, after the final showdown with Ultima, Clive uses the last of his Magick to "set things right" by eradicating this caste system people were born into. Origin dissipates and now we see Clive washed ashore. He turns himself over and notices the fingers of his left hand petrifying. He gazes at the moon asking Jill if she "sees it too," now noticing his hand has now fully petrified. Still gazing towards the heavens, Clive's eyes gently close and he falls unconscious, all while the camera pans out towards the sea. We are left with just that.
Ok... on to the next point.
Once you beat the main Leviathan DLC storyline, you can do extra side quests which lead into the epilogue of the DLC. Leading into this side quest, Shula asks Clive to participate in... well..... essentially a baptism for Welias, the former dominant of Levi. She states that special water from various parts of the land need to be collected and that three people need to participate in this ceremony Shula will take the place of the "mother," her brother will participate in place of the "father," and Clive in place of a "witness."
The three vials of water that are required are: water of the mountain, water of the river, and water of the sea.
So you the quests and it leads to the ending of the epilogue. As each character pours a drop of their sacred water over Welias, they say a brief prayer for the baby. Clive, ironically, gets the vial of the ocean water and says his prayer: "Like the boundless sea, where the currants run free.... do we die. And to the clouds then rise again."
So yeah, the last part kinda trips me up. "And to the clouds then rise again." Is it in a biblical sense like once a person dies, they ascend to the heavens as in the clouds? Did Clive merely fall unconscious and eventually awake? And if so, why put it into terms like that. "To the clouds we rise again."
I just feel like there's a purpose for that scene and the dialogue behind it. Idk.... but I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I'm sorry if this seems convoluted as well as it's way past my bedtime and instead of sleeping, I'm spending precious hours to write this whack theory out. But uh... yeah.... That's it. My theory in a nutshell. That's for the read through and coming to my T.E.D Talk.