content warning: descriptions of violence and child abuse.
i think the best way to open this is to be clear an honest that i dont have a diagnosed dissociative disorder, and i know the only person who could really determine if i do is a professional.. its something i want to pursue, but the resources are lacking. what i will say is my ability to articulate the situation and my questions is minimal so i may ramble, and i think its important for me to thank everyone ahead of time for taking the time to read this. i want to be as respectful as possible and acknowledge that my understanding is limited which makes finding the right words especially challenging so again thank you in advance, and all that in mind and out of the way heres the situation:
my abuser (who is my dad) pointed a knife at me. its something he did a lot when i was a very small child, and its one of a few instances of abuse that i can recall as a vivid image rather than a general feeling. i hadnt seen him in 7 years and after a year of contact post radio-silence things have been good. i took the time and money to travel knowing id have backup even when i saw him, but assumed that my grown up ass wouldnt be subject to abuse here after we had seemingly made amends. foolish of me, i know. it took all of five days for him to revert to a selfish and manipulative person with the mental strength of a 16yo boy. five days. we got into an argument and he turned on me with the knife, waving it and pointing it at me while raising his voice and in that moment i felt like i had shrunk down, and its like the walls around me melted and distorted to look as if i was back in my childhood home- 6'3" man looming over me with a large kitchen knife pointed right at my face. i snapped, and i can hardly remember anything after that beyond screaming and shaking and looking for my wallet in a fit before finally leaving to go drink myself stupid. and i clocked back in when i was taking the first sip of said drink. i guess what im asking if this sounds like a dissociative blackout? the reason i cant tell and maybe dont think it is, is because i can almost remember the gap, but idk if i remember it or if im just filling in the blanks because the details just dont seem to be there. would that be a grey out? but idek what a greyout really is.. and even if i feel like i know what the details are i cant really draw on or articulate them. its more like a feeling, like i know it happened, but i just cant call on it.
ive been speculating and going from thinking i have did to knowing i cant possibly, and flip flopping for the better part of 3 years now too.. something that keeps happening is i look up about did and find that it autofills my search to things i dont recall searching, and purple links ive obviously scrolled but dont recall clicking. yet when i look at them it feels familiar and alien all at once, and eventually at a certain point a sentence triggers inside me and i finally remember reading the page or article in the past. i really have to pull to remember these articles, and can only recall it here because its happened once again just now. its why ive come to finally ask for some opinions.
this fight with my dad was a breaking point and i havent been right the last few days. not myself. ik thats normal for any fight but i just have this sinking feeling that the flashback was the straw on the camels back for in terms of denial. like i can no longer ignore it because its happened in a very blatant and disruptive way as a result of something triggering a traumatic memory, as opposed to the more subtle manner that had manifested while i was content and happy with my life. ive been successfully living a relatively happy life for years, and my only doubts abt did came as a result of lost details according to my friends recounting events- i simply dont remember as well as other people, ykwim? but this... this is something else beyond simply forgetting. and i see that now.. but does that really mean i could have a dissociative disorder ? idk...
alright, thank you once more if you made it this far. i know towards the end i lost myself and my points a bit.. its like i can feel it slipping away while desperately trying to articulate myself in a bid for help. i just hope i made as much sense as i wanted to 💕

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Author's Note:
7700 words, broke Reddit's character limit, so you know the drill. Will be split into two parts, both posted today. Enjoy!
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"Stop! STOP!"
The terror in Kismet's voice rose higher as death drew nearer. He fled from Rob's grasping hand, but a Purge Divinity-infused fingernail managed to graze him, carving out a scoop of divine essence as if flaying a mortal's skin.
Kismet let out a screech as the Purging energy added to his growing collection of scars. A dozen small holes now dotted the surface of his mana-body, looking like he'd been pockmarked by wasting disease. Each wound represented a moment where the god had narrowly escaped with his life.
If those injuries had been inflicted by any other ability, then he could have rejuvenated himself in the time it took to blink. Purging energy was not so kind as that. It was purifying wrath in the shape of a Skill; their vengeance given form. Whatever divinity it touched, it extinguished.
As if cleansing the universe of a sickness that had infected it for far too long.
The BERSERKER continued his unrelenting advance. In response, Kismet threw up a frantic barrier of mana. It was strong enough to deflect one of Ragnavi's Annihilation beams–
And Rob blasted through it like paper mache. His charge sent broken shards of energy scattering across the divine realms. More mid-air rifts tore open, the HUMAN's aura strangling the surrounding area in a vice grip of power. Purge Divinity seemed to glow with light emanating straight from the pits of hell.
None of which was anywhere near as unnerving as the murder contained within his piercing gaze. When Kismet met Rob's eyes, he saw the end of eternity fast approaching.
The god's next barrier was just as frantic. However, this one was not comprised of mana, but of solid matter. Kismet summoned the hardest, most dense substance known to the mortal realms, then transmuted it into something that otherwise could only have been forged inside the heart of a dying star. It was many times more durable than the impossibly tough walls of an aberrant Dungeon.
So when Rob demolished it with a single punch, he actually had to put a bit of elbow grease into his windup.
Another wall materialized in front of him. He crushed it, then the one after, and the one after that, lashing out with bestial ferocity. The BERSERKER plowed through Kismet's hastily-built defenses like a bulldozer of fists and savagery. Rob was knocking them down as quickly as the god could make them, relishing the sensation of being able to vent his anger on targets that weren't fucking running away.
Then the twelfth wall fell – revealing a monstrous, spiky, fanged behemoth concealed behind.
Rob paused, momentarily taken aback at the sight of a mundane creature within the divine realms. 'Mundane' in relative terms, anyway. This monster was on par with a newborn Blight, radiating power that would have sent ordinary fighters sprinting for the hills.
It was also barely cognizant of its surroundings. The monster stared at him with unblinking, vacant eyes, just the tiniest glimmer of awareness present in its gaze. Rob noted that segments of its flesh were bubbling, as if the creature was fresh out of the oven and still needed to settle.
He couldn't help but feel a modicum of pity. This was yet another thoughtless creation, condemned to existence by an uncaring maker. Even monsters deserved better than that.
Rob caved the beast's head in before it could realize that it was alive. Pity was not the same as hesitation, and this was the only mercy he could afford to grant right now.
Didn't matter. Kismet's pawn served its purpose. In the brief instant that Rob spent getting over his initial surprise, the god had teleported to safety. He was already planning his next stunt that could buy him a few precious seconds of survival.
The HUMAN grimaced as he turned to give chase, unable to suppress the burgeoning sense of unease growing within his chest.
It almost didn't seem fair to feel that way. Rob knew he was winning – at least on the surface. Any outside observer would've bet their life savings on him, especially after the show of overwhelming superiority he'd just displayed. Kismet had been at a disadvantage before Never Forget Your Rage's recent upswing, and now it was no contest. Rob was confident that he would still be stronger even if the eight gods merged into one super-deity.
He also knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Whenever he moved, or activated a Skill, or even breathed...the sensation was there. Strength accompanied by incongruous frailty. Like background noise that kept getting louder with every action he took. His body felt close to pulling itself apart, as if his very molecules were a hairsbreadth away from coming undone.
It was different from Soul Instability. Whereas that threatened to collapse his soul, this frailty was an affliction of the flesh. The longer he fought, the more his physical form was at risk of popping like a balloon.
Such was the price of constraining godlike power within a mortal shell.
"Stay back!" Unaware of the turmoil fermenting in his assailant's mind, Kismet threw up his hands and...inverted...space? Rob didn't have a name for what he was seeing. Rather than stopping to puzzle out this latest brand of divine bullshit, he sent out a pulse of Purge Divinity, canceling whatever esoteric effect Kismet had been attempting to produce.
His Purging energy scraped against the divine realms like a cheese grater. Five rifts immediately tore open near both Rob and Kismet, with the god anxiously retreating from one that appeared just inches away from him. A low rumble echoed around them, and for a moment, they felt struck by an abrupt feeling of vertigo – until the realms gradually stabilized, righting once more.
For now.
Rob eyed the rifts with a detached, clinical gaze. An endless sea of mana resided behind them; the bedrock of the system itself. While he recognized that the rifts tearing open was bad news, he also couldn't really muster the energy to care. Between his overflowing rage, overtaxed body, and overburdened soul, minor details like the impending destruction of reality were hard to give much focus.
There was a way to fix all of that, of course. Rob couldn't outright deactivate Never Forget Your Rage – not without losing its bonus stats. But he could attempt to ease the storm of fury in his heart. By lessening his anger to more reasonable levels, Never Forget Your Rage would put less strain on both his body and the divine realms.
The notion forced a peal of hideous laughter to claw out of his throat. Lessen his anger? He'd have better luck trying to douse a volcano with a garden hose. No. For a wildfire that had grown this out of control, the only thing to do was stand aside and let it burn, burn, burn.
Until naught remained.
"I said stay back!" Kismet bellowed. He lifted his arms into the air. "Begone!" One moment later, Rob's vision was filled with scorching light. An apocalyptic geyser of mana burst forth from underfoot, intense and searing. It stripped the flesh from his bones in no time flat, powering through Almighty Resistance with pure, unmitigated violence.
And it still wasn't fast enough. Rob flickered a Purge Divinity shield for just an instant, allowing him to escape the geyser with his upper body – and most of his HP – intact. Lifesurge swiftly patched him up, leaving both combatants right back where they'd started.
Slowly, Kismet lowered his hands. They were shivering. "What are you?" he whispered. "Why are all my efforts in vain?"
To be honest, Rob was mildly impressed that Kismet had held on for this long. The god's combat efficacy was increasing as time passed, improving from panic-spamming teleports to more inventive maneuvers – as if he was learning how to fight on-the-job. He'd also stopped draining the other gods to supplement his power, having found an alternative source of fuel: mana seeping out from the sporadically-opening rifts.
It was the one silver lining to fighting an implacable BERSERKER so powerful that he fractured reality. Whenever Rob utilized Purge Divinity, more rifts opened up in the realms, and more mana leaked out from inside. The gods had invested that energy into the system millennia ago, and it typically would've been off-limits until they closed up shop and left Elatra. Kismet was making use of it now, absorbing the extra mana to strengthen himself, like a lifeline barely keeping him afloat.
The god's tenacity was...calling it 'admirable' would be going too far, but it did warrant a sort of begrudging respect. As someone who'd tangoed with multiple Blights, Rob knew what it was like to square off against a frenzied beast that could end him with a touch.
Being the scary one was a nice change of pace.
In exchange, Kismet had graciously donned the role of their battle's Combat Class user; fragile, outgunned, and pulling improvised maneuvers out of his ass for a chance at victory. The god could finally feel what it was like to be vulnerable. How exciting! Rob was more than happy to assist. Learning experiences such as these only came around once an eternity or so.
Flippancy aside – while Kismet still possessed room for improvement, this was the most that could be asked of a deity who hadn't seen combat in literal eons. His biggest fuckup had been taunting Rob in the wrong ways, but he couldn't have known about Never Forget Your Rage, that was an excusable oversight. By all other accounts, Kismet was performing adequately.
Even so...
"YoU aRE noTHinG."
The sound of Rob's voice caused two fresh rifts to open up. Kismet flinched, casting a teleportation spell out of pure reflex. Without pause, the HUMAN resumed his hunt.
Nothing. Perhaps that statement was hyperbole – yet it rang true nonetheless. While Kismet may have been a creature of supreme divinity, on the field of battle, his pedigree meant nothing. In the face of an implacable, unstoppable foe, his power was worth nothing. Very soon, he would be nothing, consigned to oblivion by Purging energy.
Rob couldn't help but unfavorably compare Kismet to the final Blight. Weren't these supposed to be two sides of the same coin? Each one-half of an original transcendent Will? Yet the Second Will had brought Rob to the edge of despair...and Kismet was fleeing like a cornered rodent. It was difficult to reconcile the two divinities as theoretical equals.
Although he knew that was an unfair comparison. Rob had fought the Blight before learning Limit Break and Never Forget Your Rage. Kismet wasn't weak.
The HUMAN was just far too strong.
If he rematched the Second Will today, he would beat it to death with his bare hands.
"Look at what you've wrought!" Kismet swept an arm out, gesturing towards some of the many rifts that Rob's presence was tearing open. "Do you understand what will transpire if you persist in this folly?! If the divine realms shatter, then so will all of Elatra! You are on the brink of destroying everything which you have striven to protect! Cease this–"
"CAN'T."
In a flash, Rob dashed forward and scooped out a chunk of the god's mana-body with Purge Divinity. Before he could do more, Kismet shrieked with pain and teleported away, leaving the BERSERKER to crush his prize between five clenched fingers.
"FoRCed mY HAnD." He located Kismet again. "NO GOING BACK."
Stopping wasn't an option. If the divine realms crumbled and Elatra imploded...well, that would be a faster end than what the gods had in store for its people. At least this way their deaths would be quick and hopefully painless – and his friends wouldn't be turned into Skills tortured for all eternity.
Still, Kismet did have a point. Destroying reality wasn't exactly the ideal outcome. There had to be a way to speed up the conclusion of their fight. Rob was certain he would win if given enough time, but he couldn't guarantee it would be before either his body or the divine realms collapsed.
{Ascend.}
Like a snake slithering through a minefield, Leveling High skirted past the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging within Rob's mind. He attempted to tune out its voice, yet Humanity's curse refused to be denied, the static loudening until he was compelled to respond. Quit distracting me, he snapped. In case you haven't noticed, I'm FUCKING. BUSY.
{You seek to ensure victory over those who rule above,} Leveling High continued, without missing a step. {As do I.}
Then sit back, shut up, and–
{Ignoring your deficiencies will not make them disappear. This body is...feeble. Incomplete. Unfit to wield the power contained therein. Like a polished sword attached to a brittle hilt, liable to snap in twain at any moment.}
Rob grit his teeth. He couldn't deny Leveling High's assertions. Normally he'd just tell it to piss off, but considering how much was at stake here...
With a feeling like he'd sat down to deal with the devil, Rob sighed. Then what do you propose? That we upgrade my body somehow? I don't think putting more points into Vitality would help, even if I had any to spare. Me being so juiced up on stats is half the problem.
It shook its head. {You have far surpassed the limitations of mortality. Strengthening your power further would be akin to pouring water into an overflowing cup.}
So we...what, increase the size of the cup?
Static akin to laughter echoed inside his head. {We do away with it entirely.}
An icy chill began creeping up Rob's spine, as if the cold hands of fate were working their way towards his neck. He recalled a system notification from days before – 'Your Race has morphed from Human (?) to: Ascending HUMAN'.
Not Ascended. Ascending.
Weeks-old memories came surging to the forefront. 'The Heartkiller is closer to our form of life than those you call friends,' the Blight-child of Elysium had once said. 'As long as you continue to live, eventually, you will become an existence with the power to crush the Others and free the Skills from their shackles. You are no longer one of the Ephemeral. Now, you are a cocoon, metamorphosing into something grander. When you emerge, you will be as the Eternal.'
The Blight-child had laughed at him, then. 'After joining us, preserving these worlds will no longer be your desire.'
Rob grimaced. Denied, he flatly told Leveling High. Whatever you're about to suggest isn't happening.
It scoffed at him. {Your prejudices blind you. Do you think the gods have need of physical bodies? Does it hinder them in any capacity? No – the opposite. By definition, infinity cannot be constrained. Discard this useless flesh, and your conquest of the divine realms is assured.}
Maybe you didn't hear me when I said–
{By all means. Spurn my counsel...and condemn your friends to death. Shall their lives be worth it, in the end?}
Rob sucked in air through clenched teeth.
{Ascend.} Leveling High purred with anticipation. {You are bound by a prison of meat, bone, and blood. Break free. Finish what has already begun. Gaze upon the tapestry of infinity in all its dreadful splendor. Seize victory not as a Human, but as a completed, transcendent HUMAN.}
With a scream to drown out the static, Rob chased after Kismet again and again. The god was in full-on panic mode, eschewing offensive attacks in favor of perpetual retreat, focused wholly on keeping the BERSERKER as far away as possible. He would teleport the instant that Rob laid eyes on him, frantically stalling for his life.
It was – quite unintentionally – providing evidence to Leveling High's claims. If Kismet was on the defensive, catching him would take time they might not have.
I... Rob narrowed his eyes. How would I finish Ascending, anyway? It isn't like I can just flip a switch and make it happen.
{Incorrect.}
He blinked. WHAT?
{You have long since achieved the qualifications for true godhood,} Leveling High explained, in a lecturing tone. {There is no milestone that remains necessary to achieve. Rather than needing to overcome some hurdle of strength or power, the obstacle barring your path is more...arbitrary. Self-imposed.}
Humanity's curse seemed to peer into his soul. When it spoke next, its voice was filled with disgust. {You remain mortal because you wish to do so – both consciously and subconsciously. The Ascension of a nascent deity has been obstructed by cheap sentimentality.}
Rob almost started an argument over its usage of 'cheap', but he exercised restraint, keenly aware that there was bigger fish to fry. Can't do anything about the subconscious. I am \not* activating Melancholy Resistance.*
{Nor should you,} Leveling High remarked, shuddering at the prospect. {A grand statement of intent will be sufficient to shift your mentality. I believe...yes.}
The static churned like a hive of buzzing wasps. {When you next tear off a piece of the leader god's mana...even if just a sliver...devour it. Gorge yourself on their essence.}
Bile threatened to rise to the top of Rob's throat. Seems excessive, he mused, trying and failing to keep his tone lighthearted. To become a god, I eat a god? Wouldn't that make me a divine cannibal?
{You ARE a cannibal.} Leveling High's voice wavered, its veneer of helpfulness slipping to reveal the madness that lay beneath. {What do you think you've been DOING for nearly a YEAR? You kill, ingest your prey's Experience, and MAKE THEIR POWER YOUR OWN. This world is one of consumption and parasitism – devouring a god's essence is merely a more HONEST variant of THE SAME actions.}
...You clearly weren't paying attention during Diplomacy's PR lessons. Rob pursued Kismet once again, pressing his fingernails into his palms when the god hurriedly teleported away. There is such a thing as being too straightforward. If you want people to listen to you, then maybe dress up your words so they don't sound so horrifying.
{BUT AM I WRONG?}
Rob had no answer to that.
Bolts of divine mana peppered his skin. Kismet had barely managed to squeeze an attack in-between his escapes. The bolts ricocheted off Rob's skin like ping-pong balls, leaving minor scrapes and nothing more. It wasn't anywhere close to bypassing Almighty Resistance and his massive HP pool.
Yet it also reminded him of the mana-spears that Kismet had sent towards the rest of Riardin's Rangers. His Party members only possessed a shared, diluted version of Almighty Resistance, and their HP was a fraction of his. If Kismet aimed another attack of that caliber at them...how many would perish, right then and there?
Was Leveling High correct? What point was there to sentimentality if it just got his friends killed?
In truth, Rob knew that it didn't really matter if he completed his Ascension. Based on what he had planned for himself after the gods were dead, little would change either way. Still...he also knew that Ascending would be a one-way trip. No take-backs. If he went through with it, a fundamental part of him would be irrevocably altered.
Something twinged in a corner of his mind. It wasn't Leveling High, or his rage, or any of the other emotions currently dominating his headspace. This was a familiar friend; perhaps Rob's #1 most trusted confidant since he'd first set foot in Elatra. One that had rarely ever steered him wrong.
Paranoia.
And at the moment, it was telling him to be very careful before jumping into the deep end.
Ten teleports.
{What?}
Give it ten more Kismet teleports, Rob said. If I haven't dealt him a serious injury by then....I'll do what I need to do. He grimaced as Kismet vanished before he'd even finished the thought. Ten starting now.
Leveling High's static quieted. It resembled a patron at a restaurant who'd ordered their meal, and was waiting patiently for the main course to arrive.
Rob didn't waste time being offended over its nonchalance. Free of distractions, he immediately swept his gaze across the divine realms, pinpointing his quarry in a micro-instant. The BERSERKER dashed forward, pushing his body as far as he could, layering Rampages on top of Dexterity that made the laws of physics want to curl up and weep.
Kismet was prepared. He'd drawn more mana from the fractured rifts, quickening his speed and reactions. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep his head above water, not yet outpaced by their continually escalating arms race.
The HUMAN struck, the god fled, and both were left in the same position as before.
{One.}
Rob turned on a dime, charging without needing to look. He'd heard the moment that Kismet's teleport ended. It afforded him a split-second head start.
A gravity well suddenly appeared below his feet, as if a miniaturized black hole was weighing him down. Apparently, Kismet had set it up ahead of time as a just-in-case trap. Rob pierced through the spell's area of effect before it could ramp up to something dangerous, but his pace was slowed by a hair in the process, and his prey escaped.
{Two.}
You know what? Screw this. Rob whirled away from Kismet's newest location and blasted straight towards one of the lesser deities that his Party members were fighting.
He'd been too hung up on getting even with a hated foe – when there were seven other juicy morsels for him to play with. This way, Kismet would either sit back and watch as his allies were massacred, or the god would be forced to act instead of running like a goddamn cowar–
Sense Mana alerted Rob to magic gathering behind.
Pivoting, he leapt into the air. Rob superimposed himself in front of Kismet, bodyblocking the rainstorm of destructive mana that was about to be unleashed upon Riardin's Rangers.
Due to his swift response, the attack was released early. A simple Purge Divinity shield prevented him from incurring any damage. Rob still felt no sense of triumph as the mana dissipated around him. He just wasn't fast enough to kill the lesser gods and protect his Party at the same time – or at least not fast enough that he should gamble their lives on it.
Kismet disappearing a moment later didn't help matters either.
{Three.}
Frontal assaults weren't guaranteed to succeed, and targeting the other gods was a no-go. Could he take Kismet by surprise? Increase his Dexterity?
Rob contemplated mining Never Forget Your Rage for more stats, but swiftly vetoed the idea. His body was already struggling to hold itself together. Putting additional strain on a shaky foundation seemed...unwise.
Plus – at the risk of eating crow in the near future – he didn't actually think it was possible to feel angrier at the gods than he was right now. Seriously, what was left?
He hated them for sending him to a fantasy deathworld. He hated them for tormenting his friends and family. He hated them for being partially responsible for the Blight. He hated them for what they'd done to Elatra and Earth. He hated them for all the lives they'd stolen. He hated them for being the living embodiments of indifference and cruelty. He hated that they fostered good PR among the people they oppressed. He hated how monsters of such craven hypocrisy were also immeasurably powerful. He hated the sensation of divine mana crawling on his skin. He hated the unsettling sound of their voices. He hated their bizarre formless appearances. He hated them for being pompous pricks. He hated whenever they tried to relate to him. He hated whenever they didn't.
Most of all, he hated that they were still alive.
Even if he found out that they'd personally antagonized him since birth or some petty nonsense like that, it wouldn't measure up to the litany of transgressions they'd committed thus far. The blazing inferno within his soul could burn no hotter. Should burn no hotter. For his sanity's sake, if nothing else.
Kismet teleported. It wasn't in response to anything. He'd merely anticipated some sort of action – and was then baffled afterwards when he noticed the rampaging BERSERKER standing quietly in deep thought.
{Four.}
Rob advanced. While he didn't have a plan yet, he'd also learned that if he gave Kismet the slightest amount of breathing room, bad things tended to happen.
Can any of my Skills give me an edge? Unfortunately, he didn't think so. As usual, his lack of ranged options was biting him in the ass when it mattered most. Almost everything he could use required getting in close – which was the whole freaking problem – and none would be more effective than Purge Divinity, regardless.
Maybe I could set up a Waymark point, then catch Kismet's teleport with one of mine...no, that won't work either. The odds of him popping in next to a random Waymark point are slim. Could fill the battlefield with lots of Marks, but even then I have to consider the Skill's activation time. With my current Dexterity, it'd honestly be faster just to run at him.
The vast majority of his abilities simply weren't up to par in a clash with divinity. Limit Break, Purge Divinity, and Never Forget Your Rage had been specifically designed by the Skills to facilitate deicide. Something like Power Slash couldn't possibly compare to jailbroken stats and a touch of death.
As an act of defiance against his own logic, he cast Enmity, the only ability that could feasibly hit Kismet at range. The god casually shrugged off its effect before promptly escaping.
{Five.}
Like a frustrated animal, Rob snarled and gave chase. Just need to keep trying. Kismet isn't perfect.
{Six.}
Sooner or later, he's going to mess up.
{Seven.}
He's going to mess up.
{Eight.}
HE HAS TO MESS UP.
Suddenly, Kismet transformed his right hand into a blade of mana. With one harsh motion, he sliced open his own left arm.
By now, Rob had conditioned himself to never stop moving forward, even if something shocked him – which this sight very much did. His mouth dropped open, and Leveling High paused in the middle of eating its metaphorical popcorn. They still kept advancing without an iota of hesitation.
And ran straight into the mana cloud leaking out from Kismet's wound.
Rob blinked, opening his eyes to a wonderful day. The twisting plains looked dazzlingly beautiful, with fauna and plantlife lit by rays of effervescent light from the twin stars shining above. People cheerfully went about their day, happily shaking their trunks in shows of greeting, or rattling their scales to initiate merry games.
All was at peace.
Until – in unison – everyone froze. The tumult of life went quiet in an instant, replaced with pensive silence.
As if they'd been struck by the creeping, pervasive sensation of being watched.
A sound rang out. Half of them immediately fell over dead, fluids gushing from their ruined bodies.
The survivors could only lay there, crippled and in pain, as more people slowly rose into the air. Invisible fingers seemed to pluck them from the ground – and then began ripping off their limbs, one at a time, like a child dissecting butterflies–
Rob dragged himself back to the present.
It had taken much less time than before to recognize what was happening. Now that he knew what to expect, experiencing the remnant souls' lives wasn't so different from the dreamlike quality of an Attunement vision. Although...realizing that he'd witnessed the end of a world preceding Elatra did cause his thoughts to hitch for a single moment.
Which was just enough for Kismet to forge a spear of mana, then send it plunging through Rob's eye, skull, and brain. Its tip was forged to shred anything it touched, no matter how durable or Resistant.
The god whooped with glee – only to wince as the HUMAN's sole reaction was a long, drawn-out sigh. With an air of exasperation, he reached up and yanked the divine spear free with a nauseating splorch.
His eye had been reduced to a seeping red mess. He closed its eyelid. When he opened it again, the orb within had already Regenerated, now sporting an unamused glare.
It was something of a unique moment. Mid-battle events didn't typically leave both combatants feeling disheartened. The all-powerful god was losing faith that he could ever hope to stop Rob's onslaught...
And the BERSERKER didn't know if he could justify continuing on like this. His body still felt like it was pulling itself apart; if anything, the sensation was growing more pronounced as their battle progressed. While Kismet would make a fatal mistake eventually, Rob couldn't guarantee that he would last long enough to capitalize on it.
Unless he followed Leveling High's advice and–
With a howl that shook the divine realms, Rob launched his stolen spear at Kismet. His aim was true, yet it sailed through empty air, the god's afterimage tauntingly fading away.
{Nine.}
Final chance.
​
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Link to Part 2

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• What's the purpose of your next card: Points, travel
  
• Do you have any cards you've been looking at: Chase United Explorer
  
• Are you OK with category spending or do you want a general spending card: category would be better. The Amex Gold is almost perfect given the highest category spend is dining and groceries.
  

Travel wise: A yearly roundtrip flight from Boston to Bangalore, India for my wife and I. We also take at least one domestic flight for yearly vacation.

Hi! Looking for a new card. Recently applied for the Citi Custom Cash Mastercard, but was denied because "The consumer reporting agency serving your area has reported only a limited credit history for you." Called Citi, rep said it's probably because I only have 1 card. What other card(s) would you all suggest I apply for? Template below:

• Current cards: Discover it $3,500 limit, Jun 16, 2022
  • Already tried a credit line increase within past 30 days, was denied
  • My statements are registering a balance, so I am utilizing the card no doubt
• FICO Score: 762
• Oldest account age: 1 year 11 months
• Chase 5/24 status: 1/24
• Income: $30,000
  • dining $70
  • groceries: $10
  • travel: $10
  • shopping: $100
  • other: $70
• Open to Business Cards: Yes, but only if it will benefit me
• What's the purpose of your next card? Building credit, Cashback
• Do you have any cards you've been looking at? US Bank Altitude Go but I don't know if I would qualify
• Are you OK with category spending or do you want a general spending card? I am OK with category spending
• I am a college student whose biggest expenses are dining (Fast food, restraunts, deliveries) and shopping (Amazon, CVS, different retail stores).

I'm an incoming freshman in the college of arts & sciences, and I previously planned to major in CS but now also want to explore different majors such as physics/econ/gov. Is it possible to enroll in 8 courses/26 credits initially (I know there's a max limit but not sure how it is enforced) to have a feel about the different majors in the first few days and then drop the ones that I don't like later on, maybe even in the first week? Or is enrolling in just 4/5 courses and then going to the other classes without enrolling, swapping courses a better option? Thanks!

Debit/Credit Cards Accepted No Closing Costs Cash Price: $1,750 Finance with $200 Down and 18 Payments of $110 Per Month No Credit Check, No Income Documentation, No Prepayment Penalty 

Airsoft Guns usually replicate real firearms designs, but those designs were engineered with certain limitations like managing recoil impulse, cartridge feeding, chamber pressures, and low manufacturing cost for en-masse defense contracts.
However, slinging BBs doesn't really have those limitations. I mean, surely an AR-15 Magazine is not the most efficient way to store and feed BBs, they're just convenient because AR Mag pouches are common and most people who have seen a rifle knows how it works.
If you completely disregard making it look and feel like a real firearm design, and only focused on what is the best way to make an accurate, consistent, fast shooting and ergonomic BB shooter, what would you end up with?

Hey. I’m a university student who’s been struggling a lot the past 5+ years with my mental health and occasionally physical health as well. I’m on the tipping point for hypothyroidism so I’m having to wait before I can be medicated for it, despite having a lot of the symptoms already.
So as you can guess, options are limited, ive still applied to careers and work that would (metaphorically and literally) break my back if I worked in.
Long story short, I have no options or jobs right now lined up for when I fail university or for housing, I have been told I’m not allowed to return home anymore and it’s been radio silence with my family since this aside from sending me pictures of important documents.
I’m waiting for a response from the city council about the housing part. Speaking to the university team later about pretty much everything else.
I have been mass applying to jobs, namely basic ones like retail, cleaning (which I’ve worked in before) and even been so bold to attempt administrative or basic healthcare related roles. Ive applied to everything from domestic cleaning to literal factory work.
The two jobs I worked for were holiday accommodation cleaning (summer work) and retail cleaning (winter work). Last summer I did festival work but I legit can’t do that long term anymore and physically it fucked me up big time.
I really want to break into the careers of either transport- specifically railway either conducting/customer service or retail and basic floor work. Just some basic career to get me off the ground that’ll let me have a consistent basic income and let me have a roof over my head after my birthday.
But if I return to university, I’ll need to get into something that’ll be part time or at least nights so I don’t compromise the day. Can retail still be an option? Ive tried bakitchen work but I’ve only been interviewed once two years ago, and heard nothing from anyone since.
My cv has been looked at by a bit of a professional who’s worked with someone who looked at CVs for his job, so I have some confidence in my CV.
Any ideas how to break into these areas?? Or anything at least a little quick. I could do more volunteer work in retail as I already have 2 years of it, but I can’t afford it right now as it won’t exactly put a roof over my head, and would actively collide with any other work opportunities I’d get.
(Just a note I don’t actively have my passport or other identifying documents with me, I just have pictures. I have a prov. license)

So, I've read a few posts/comments on how the AR Udemy Mock Exam is not really like the actual exam and/or too easy. I took it anyway just for the practice/see how I would do and 100% agree with this statement.
I finished the exam in 1hr and 20 mins (including 2 - 7 min breaks) and scored an 86%.
This AR Udemy mock exam was definitely way too easy to be considered a real mock exam; My question is for those that have his book, how does the AR book mock exam compare to real thing?
I'm about 2-3 weeks away from my exam, haven't scheduled anything yet, but plan to in the next few days and am trying to nail down how I'm going to spend my last few days. With limited time during the week/weekends, I'm trying to guage whether it's worth doing the book mock exam or not (and just sticking to SH review).
For general awareness, as of today, I've completed all the SH Practice Questions (69%, 78% w/o Expert), I've done almost all but four of the mini exams (average 77%, 82% w/o Expert). I still haven't done the SH Mock Exams yet, most likely will do that next weekend. The plan for the week is to go back through 3ROCK NOTES and AR Udemy Exam Content Outline. I realize now at this point, I'm writing this more to hold myself accountable than anything else.
Appreciate any insights on my question. Thanks.

Hi all - need some help and guidance on how to correct I the situation. I opened up a roth in 2021 and fully funded it early in the year - I think it was 6k. That year I made way more money than expected but I always thought my income was below the AGI limit but now I realize my AGI was actually above.
I haven’t made any contributions since; it was a one time transfer I made.
I know there’s a penalty of 6% a year. Is that for each filing year? So I would owe on 21, 22 and 23? Anybody else experience a similar situation? What’s the best way to navigate.
Thanks in advance

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Mike marveled at the beauty of the inner city. He was familiar with Kael architecture and had even seen some up close at the university, but it was far grander here than on Earth, and it was far grander in person than in the videos and pictures he'd seen. The buildings were a hybrid of Gothic and expressionist architecture built with classical aesthetics.
Mosaics, statues, and murals were everywhere, but despite the grand buildings and beautiful decorations, Mike couldn’t keep his eyes off the ground. Even the streets are beautiful.
The ground he and Dreki walked was like a freshly cooled lava flow paved by slates of colored glass that softly glowed in the dimming light of the evening sun.
As they walked, Mike was woken from his trance by the scent of meat cooking.
Dreki smiled and said, “Smells good. You hungry?”
Mike nodded.
Dreki grinned and led Mike around the corner to a food cart. Mike salivated as the flames licked and sputtered at fat dripping from hunks of what looked like octopus turning on spits. The aroma of meat and spices was intoxicating. Dreki ordered them octopus skewers. As he handed Mike his skewer, Dreki said, “You’re never going to be able to eat earth octopus again.”
Mike chuckled. “I’ve never had it in the first place; I grew up in the mountains thousands of miles from the ocean.”
Dreki looked incredulous. “Did you not have rivers?”
Mike shrugged his shoulders, “Not with octopi.”
Dreki raised his free hand in exasperation. “Whatever. Either way, you’ll be disappointed by the rubbery trash humans call an octopus after eating this.”
Mike took a bite of the meat and groaned in pleasure. It tasted like a beefier version of bacon. Mike wolfed down his skewer in the blink of an eye and exclaimed, “That was fucking good!”
Dreki gave him a “Mhhhmh” with his still mouth full.
Dreki finished his food and led Mike off the main road onto a footpath flanked by wispy trees with dark blue leaves.
Eventually, the pair entered the back garden of a building that looked like a melted cathedral. Dreki led him through an open gate into a well-lit waiting room and held out his arm. “Hand me your bag; I’ll take it to your room. I’ll come get you after.”
Mike slipped his bag from his shoulders and handed it to Dreki. As the herculean Kael was leaving, he turned and said, “Try not to scream when they brand you; it’s an ill omen.”
Mike drummed his fingers on the armrests of the chair in the sea foam green waiting room, which was decorated with pictures of duels and exotic plants in white and blue ceramic pots. He was pretty sure that more than one of the photographs was of Dreki’s father.
Mike was anxious. Getting branded would suck, and getting an AR implant would involve someone sticking a drill through his skull. And without his gargantuan minder, Mike felt almost naked. He knew that he would probably be fine, but this was the home of the enemy. Without any weapons, he stood little chance against any Kael worth their salt in a fight.
Mike chided himself for the thought. Why does everything have to revolve around violence? Is there no world where you can just get along with them?
Mike frowned. No. I hate them. Despite his barely contained rage, Mike felt nauseous as blood-soaked memories bombarded his mind.
He doubted that he could kill again, even if it meant dying.
Dreki’s not so bad; maybe out here, more of them are like him than Ocidea.
Mike’s melancholy was interrupted when the tall door at the far end of the room opened. A short, for a Kaelman, nurse wearing pea green scrubs walked out, locked eyes with him, and shouted, “Mike Anderson!”
Mike followed the short Kael nurse into a cream-colored operating room. In the center an instrument table hovered next to an operating table. Besides the operating table stood a middle-aged Kael with tusks intricately inlaid with silver in triangular patterns. His white lab coat had Chief Surgeon Athocill emblazoned over the right breast pocket.
The Chief Surgeon stared off into space, engrossed in AR. The nurse who brought him in pointed to the operating table. Mike sat down.
A slender Kaelwoman in scrubs and a lab coat identifying her as the assistant surgeon walked in and started arranging the tools.
She glanced at Mike and said, “Take off your shirt.”
Mike pulled the black T-shirt he was wearing over his head and set it on the table next to him.
Without looking away from his work, the Chief Surgeon tossed Mike a leather strap and said, “Brand him.”
The short nurse pulled a heat stamp from its case and rolled the numbers to their correct positions. Mike put the leather strap in his mouth and grabbed onto the table.
Dreki’s warning rang through his head*.*
The Nurse carefully placed the print plate just below Mike’s collarbone and pushed it down. The heat stamp's coils flashed white. Mike bit down on the leather strap as hard as he could, and his knuckles popped as he gripped the edges of the operating table as hard as he could. Tendrils of smoke billowed off Mike’s chest as his flesh was seared, and the acrid smell of burnt hair and torched flesh wafted through the room.
Mike stifled a groan as the nurse peeled the superheated steel off his chest. The Nurse set the smoking stamp back in its case to cool and picked up a small jar of viscous blue fluid and a brush. The nurse opened the jar, dipped the brush in the blue goop, and painted it over Mike’s still-smoking burn. Mike jolted at the freezing touch of the brush. His ribs and abdomen rose and fell rapidly as he took short, shallow breaths as the freezing cold shocked his nervous system.
The nurse put the brush away and closed the jar. “Done”
Mike let the leather strap drop from his mouth and put on a straight face as he externally disguised the pain. Showing weakness was not an option, even if every fiber of his being commanded him to scream.
The assistant took hold of Mike’s arm and spoke. “Make a fist and squeeze.”
Mike did as she asked. It was a good distraction from the pain. His knuckles turned white, and the veins in his forearm bulged after a few seconds of pressure.
“You’ll feel a tiny pinch.”
The assistant jabbed the needle into the crook of his arm.
Mike’s head immediately felt heavy, and his whole body tingled. He tried to stay upright, to no avail. His vision grayed out as his head plopped onto the table with a thud.
The surgeon looked to his assistant and asked, “Is he out?”
“Yes.” She answered.
“Let us begin.”
The assistant used a small metal tool to pull Mike's right eyelid open. The chief surgeon plunged a gold needle into the depths of Mike’s right eye.
The surgeon carefully pulled the needle from the human’s eye and set the syringe back down on the floating instrument table.
“Targeting chip in place. Next stage.”
The nurse began rummaging around a drawer in the back of the room, and the chief surgeon plucked a gleaming silver drill from the instrument table.
The drill in the surgeon's hand whirred as he plunged it into Mike’s skull. After just a few seconds, the drill bored through Mike's skull. The surgeon pulled the drill out of the human's head and angled the bit down into a small metal dish that was in the extended arms of the assistant. The chief surgeon hit a button on the drill with his thumb.
A bloody, dime-sized piece of Mike’s skull dropped to the bottom of the metal dish with a clang.
He set the drill back down on the instrument table and held out his hand. “Drone.”
The nurse put an insect-like metal contraption that resembled a whip scorpion in the surgeon’s hand. The chief surgeon's eyes glazed as he entered his AR and took control of the drone. It popped out of his hand and burrowed itself into the hole in Mike's skull.
Inside his AR, he brought the drone to the occipital lobe of Mike’s brain.
“Deploying lattice.”
The arachnid-like drone injected small metal spikes with spools of minuscule wire attached—anchor points—into Mike’s brain. After just a minute's work, the surgeon had crafted a web of wires across Mike's brain. He brought the drone back to the center of Mike’s brain and planted one final anchor spike. A reel inside one of the claw-like appendages at the front of the drone spun, cinching the lattice of wires down to the last anchor point. The surgeon brought the drone around again, ensuring that the web of copper was completely taught against the human’s brain. He brought the drone back out and smiled ever so slightly as the blood and cerebrospinal fluid-soaked drone hopped back into his gloved hand.
Chief Surgeon Athocill smiled and jovially said, “Patch him up.” He was pleased with his performance today. This was the first human to get an advanced AR package, and the procedure went flawlessly. The assistant grabbed a quarter-sized piece of flesh-colored putty and carefully placed the small piece of skull onto it. She placed the putty over the hole in Mike’s head, and it took to life, bonding the fragment of bone back into place and sealing the surface wound.
The surgeon removed his gloves and began typing on a holoprojection. “All systems are operational. I’m linking him to the military network now.”
The assistant pulled the instrument table to her side and plucked a syringe filled with neon green fluid. She said, “I’m waking him up now,” as she plunged the needle into Mike’s arm.
Mike’s eyes flew open, and he grit his teeth against the pain. Tears seeped from his stinging and blood-filling right eye. Every heartbeat brought a jolt of crippling pain to his head. And worst of all was the searing pain from the brand on his chest and the aching cold that barely disguised it. Mike sat up with a grunt. Pain shot through his chest when he brought his hand to his head and felt the hardened disc of putty on his temple.
The surgeon addressed Mike with a soothing tone. “On the count of three, I’m going to activate your AR. It will feel like your head is on fire for a few seconds, but it will only last a few seconds. One… Two… Three!”
Mike nearly collapsed with the pain, but he managed to limit his response to a grunt. Light flashed before his eyes, and Kaelic text appeared in the center of his vision. The doctor asked, “What do you see.”
Mike answered, “AR active. And below that, it says setup wizard.” Despite his best efforts, pain was evident in his voice.
“Ok, Mike, I want you to think, ‘open setup wizard.’”
Mike blinked a few times. “Nothing happened.”
The surgeon said, “Think it in Kaelic.”
Mike’s brow furrowed in concentration. He was fluent in Kaelic, but not to the point where he could think in the language at will.
“Ok, I got it. It says setting menu at the top, and there are a ton of things here. Do you want me to read them off?”
“No. Can you scroll down?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You should be able to get the hang of this pretty quickly; it's very intuitive. You’ll see that there are a few HUD profiles that you can pick from. I’d recommend you start from profile two and then customize it as you see fit.”
Mike nodded as he selected profile two.
“OK, now think clear.”
Mike did as the surgeon asked. His vision was now cleared.
The surgeon smiled. “Feel free to fiddle with the settings, just think clear if it gets cluttered, and reset if you make a dog’s breakfast of it. You’ll have a headache for the next few days, and you may start having more vivid dreams, but other than that, you’ll barely notice the change. Just take it easy for the next few days, and don’t itch at your brand or your eye.”

Debit/Credit Cards Accepted No Closing Costs Cash Price: $950 Finance with $150 Down and 9 Payments of $115 Per Month No Credit Check, No Income Documentation, No Prepayment Penalty 

Background: 23, I make shit money but my parents make good money. I am a “student,” and have been supporting myself for the last year.
I have no credit history according to credit checking tools (despite being an AU on my mom’s BOFA CC for like a decade. Don’t know what’s up with that. That's not the issue at hand tho.)
Well I’m looking to take out my own CC to build credit. And I’m pretty limited having no credit history. I only qualified for the secured Discover Card on the pre-approval even after modifying the info I entered. I’m looking to avoid secured cards.
After including my parents income on C1 pre-approval tool I was able to finally get the approval tool to qualify me for the Student SavorOne and Student QuickSilver (Today). I would love to be accepted for the SavorOne. I like how the card actually has great bonuses for a beginner card, and I can keep it long term to grow my credit age since it has 0 AF.
​
My Mistakes: My dumb ass learned yesterday what a hard pull was and what applying for a CC entails. I applied and promptly got denied three times last night. I effectively thought applying without accepting an offer was like doing the pre-approval tools.
The dumbest part was getting denied by Citi Custom Cash twice five minutes apart, because I thought including my parent’s income in my gross income would change the result. The third card I got rejected from 30 minutes later was the Discover Cash Back.
​
My Predicament: So obviously spamming hard pulls in such a short period of time was dumb as hell (and not attempting a pre-approval first). But I don’t want my mistakes to compromise my acceptance for the Student SavorOne.
My Question: How long would you wait before applying to the Student SavorOne? According to my understanding, the pre-approval SP today should have taken into consideration the 3 HP’s I did last night in its eligibility decision. But a pre-approval decision doesn’t guarantee that I’ll actually get accepted, especially because it took some adjusting of the pre-approval info to even qualify for the SavorOne, as well as some suspect behavior occurring so recently with zero other credit history.
Obviously waiting 6 months would be safe as hell to space out the previous HPs from my new application. But I would like to finally get started with a credit card already. But I also don’t want to put yet another failed HP on my record.

The B10 A5 2.0T engine will get up power bump to 275-280 hp 0-60 sec standard time in 5.0 secs with launch control possible 4.8 secs. The 40 TSFI get boost to 230 hp with 0-60 time in 5.9-6.0 secs but better gas mileage
A 48 volt mild hybrid system is standard on 2025 A5 it improve start-stop system, gas efficiency by 15%.
Interior will be Q6 inspire but base model will come with 11.9 inch display and higher trim 13.8-14 inch display slightly different step up.
Safety Enhancements: More advanced LIDAR and radar systems for better object detection, collision avoidance, and pedestrian detection.
Standard 5G connectivity, improved smartphone integration, and more seamless over-the-air updates. Next Gen Apple CarPlay 2 and Android Auto
Continuation of advanced 7-speed dual-clutch automatic, potentially with refinements for smoother operation and better efficiency.
Improved 360-degree camera system with higher resolution and better integration with parking assistance and collision avoidance systems.
Matrix LED Headlights: Enhanced matrix LED headlights with adaptive lighting for optimal illumination without blinding oncoming traffic. LED headlights are standard on base model but not Matrix LED headlights.
OLED Taillights: OLED taillights with advanced animations for signaling and a more distinctive appearance similar to Q6.
Customizable Ambient Lighting Extensive ambient lighting options inside the cabin, with customizable colors and intensities to suit the mood and driving conditions. Possible 64 different colors with more lighting than B9.
The B10 Audi A5 could introduce Level 3 autonomous driving capabilities, allowing for hands-free driving under certain conditions, such as highway driving. This system would include advanced sensors, cameras, and AI algorithms to monitor the vehicle’s surroundings and make real-time driving decisions.
Traffic Jam Assist 2.0:
Building upon existing traffic jam assist technology, the B10 A5 could feature an enhanced version that provides more comprehensive autonomous driving in congested traffic situations.
It would allow the vehicle to accelerate, brake, and steer autonomously in traffic jams, reducing driver stress and fatigue.
New sensor systems and algorithms could enable the A5 to detect and mitigate potential collisions at intersections.
The B10 Audi A5 might introduce emergency maneuver assist technology, which assists the driver in evasive maneuvers to avoid collisions.
The B10 A5 could feature an optional virtual reality cockpit, providing an immersive driving experience with customizable digital displays and augmented reality overlays.
This technology would enhance driver engagement and situational awareness, presenting vital information in a more intuitive and immersive manner.
An advanced AR HUD could project critical information directly onto the windshield, overlaying navigation directions, speed limits, and hazard warnings onto the driver’s field of view.
The B10 Audi A5 might offer an upgraded connectivity suite with seamless integration of smart devices and cloud-based services.
Features could include advanced voice recognition, natural language processing, and predictive AI assistants to streamline communication and entertainment functions.
Digital Key 2.0

I took the test yesterday 5/18 and just got my results via email 1.5 days later. Thank you to this subreddit for all the tips!! I have very limited pm experience, but I do think it helped me apply concepts to real life examples
Here’s what I did to study:
1) JP Udemy Course - Barely paid attention since I just needed the hours; took way too long to finish this 2) Udemy Practice Test #1 - 52% I scheduled my test on 4/9 to motivate myself to actually study…it didn’t work. I would put in 1 hr every other day 3) Udemy Practice Test #2 - 60% 4) PocketPrep - I had the app for a couple weeks before I started slowly going through the questions, but I didn’t study daily until 2 weeks out. I did all 1000 questions and averaged 64% lol so I did the ‘missed questions’ quizzes until I got it up to 76% by my test date 5) Udemy Practice Test #3 - 58% 6) Udemy Practice Test #4 - 64% 7) AR Udemy Course - Paid attention the most during foundations and BA 8) TIA CAPM Exam Simulator - Did study mode & passed the first two 50 question mock exams + the 150 question mock exam. Then I did exam mode & passed everything, BUT I think this is only bc the questions were the same from study mode & my brain was working off of muscle memory instead of critical thinking **I still felt so unprepared so I was putting in ~2-3 hr of studying a day at this point 9) Landini PM: Practice Questions for the CAPM Exam - I ordered this on Amazon & received it 6 days before my exam. I completed all the odd exams first & then did the even exams for the two weaker sections which were Fundamentals & BA (I’m now realizing that aligns with my scores lol) Set #1 - 68% Set #2 - 78% Set #3 - 68% Set #4 - n/a Set #5 - 78% Set #6 - n/a Set #7 - 66% Set #8 - 72%
I took the test online. Check-in took ~7 min. I did a system test the night before & the morning of. They give you a whiteboard, calculator, and comment box. There’s a ‘review questions’ page after the first 75 questions & then again at the end. I took the 10 min break (I asked my proctor via chat if I could leave & they said yes) by leaving the room for a bit and only ended up taking 8 min before starting again. I finished with 95 min still on the clock so I was worried I rushed through it, but I reviewed thoroughly & only felt unsure about one formula question in the second half. The questions were straightforward & were not as difficult or tricky as I expected. A lot of the questions could be narrowed down by process of elimination.
My only tip is: don’t overthink it! Especially if you’re not a fan of test taking like me. Most of the time I would over complicate it when all I had to do was choose the answer that was the most obvious lol. Also, don’t sweat it if your test is approaching quickly, I crammed the week of & I think that was probably all I needed. GOOD LUCK!!

Hi everyone, I am a Canadian university student who has been trying to land an internship in America. Given how bad the job market is right now however I haven't had luck in doing so.
Today I was doing some research and thought through the possibility of relocation to the US for the duration of a remote Canadian internship. This would be for about 4 months towards the end of this year, which is less than the limit of 6 months that I read up online. I wouldn't be earning any income in US, and just exploring the cities to see if this is where I'd want to relocate after graduation or at most networking with potential employers to see if I can obtain a TN for a new grad role.
As far as I read, there are no particular risks in doing such but I'm wondering if I'm missing anything tax-wise or legally that could get me in trouble?

I'm looking for a second credit card. My credit history is very short.
Current cards: (list cards, limits, opening date)

• Capital One Quick Silver, $500 limit, June 2023
  • FICO Score: 720
  • Oldest account age: e.g. 11 months
  • Chase 5/24 status: 1/24
  • Income: $70,000
  • Average monthly spend and categories:
• dining $100
• groceries: $400
• gas: $100
• travel: $0
• other: $200
  • Open to Business Cards: No
  • What's the purpose of your next card?
• Build credit, get a higher limit, and/or better rewards. Not looking for traveling
  • Do you have any cards you've been looking at?
• I want a Visa credit card to use at Costco and other places as a safety card in case they don't take MasterCard.
  • Are you OK with category spending or do you want a general spending card?
• I'm not sure what this is, so potentially.

My name is Dr. Smith, not my real name of course, but for purposes of storytelling it will have to suffice. I have been practicing medicine at an Asian country as a general practitioner. I'm relatively new and I practice at a small village, not too far from civilization, half a day's travel by car and a few hours by boat from the country's capital, but very rural nonetheless, complete with superstitious beliefs and customs. I decided to stay here when I first graduated and passed the licensure exam for two reasons: first, I have a place to stay here, my family's ancestral home (although none of my direct relatives have lived there for years), said ancestors being one of the first people to settle in the area and second, because my family had always been the physicians in this small community as far as anyone remembers. Me, my grandfather and his father before him all went to the city to study medicine and went back here to practice it, like there was a pull, a calling, to sacrifice the convenient, fast-paced city life for the quiet and serene. My mother hated the idea, as clingy as she is to me, saying things like she wanted me to always be around where she could protect me, but you can't really help it when purpose calls. To be honest, it feels good providing a wide range of services to the honest people of our small, humble town, no greater feeling than helping the less privelaged, educating them and dispelling preconceived notions and old wives tales which are aplenty in my country, especially here.
I still recall how everything began. I made a makeshift clinic at one of the rooms of my ancestral home, it used to be my grandfather's office, but it felt old, antique, and perhaps too... professional, nothing wrong with that, but I wanted my patients to feel a more homely setting. So, I rearranged a bit, removed the imposing self portrait of my great-grandfather wearing his white coat that hang on the wall and transferred it to a more private area of the house. I changed the dim, barely functioning lights into brighter, more modern ones, removed the exceedingly extravagant chandelier and equipped the room with materials and equipment that I deemed necessary for my practice. I retained the wooden floors, but outfitted the walls with charts and more colorful decorations, in anticipation for the occasional pediatric patient. It was beginning to look less like an old abandoned house where teenagers went for the spooks and more like a place of healing and betterment, a clean place offering a clean mind...or so I hope.
"Your grandfather would have a heart attack if he wasn't dead already, seeing what you've done with his old clinic" quipped Martha, our housekeeper. All I know about Martha is that my grandfather hired her as a young teen and she has been here since then, she babysat and raised my mother as her own, and even took care of me as a toddler. Considering her age, she mostly supervises the younger and more capable help rather than doing tasks herself. None of them stay at the house, but they get called upon when me or any of my relatives were expected. Most of the family consider her as one of our own at this point.
"Well i'm sure great grandpa on the other hand enjoys the change of view" I replied jokingly. "Besides, I bet the patients would appreciate not being treated in such a dark, gloomy room."
"You know how your grandfather was..." she replies, that the idea of a dark, gloomy, old man liking dark, gloomy, old places was a no brainer. "...but everything aside, it is so nice to see you again, have you been feeling better? What did your mother think of you staying here?" she said with what I felt as outmost sincerity, "I used to chase and carry you around this estate and now look at you, about to carry out your family's legacy as a physician yourself" she continued, with a hint of pride from her tone.
I smiled. I myself couldn't think of a reason why a well respected man, revered even, by this town and it's people for everything he has done would act nonchalant and depressed, always with a jaded look in his eyes and stay in an equally dim and depressing part of his house, I've always known him to be like that, but was he always?
"I am better now. It's good to see you too, I'm glad you're staying healthy, and mom sure did not like it but well...she told me to say hi on her behalf" I told Martha. She beams up and smiles on my mother's mention.
"Well...I took the liberty of digging up your grandfather's documents, records and his patient charts, I doubt many of them still live but I thought maybe you'd like to have a look, I placed them around your desk but I can relocate them if you want me to"
"No, that's perfect. That's something I actually intended to do, i'll give it a read, thank you" I replied. I know some of those patients were either old or probably dead to be honest, but seeing data as well as the cases my grandfather had to deal with might help me in the future.
"The villagers already know Dr. Smith's grandson is here, they know you're a doctor, so expect to have a patient one of these days, perhaps as soon as you give the word that your clinic is open" Martha said, as she walks out of the room smiling and slightly waving, signalling a goodbye.
"I'm not even surprised" I think to myself. Places like these, words spreads like wildfire on topics like these, the idea of someone from a known family, coming back from the city, not to mention deciding to stay indefinitely, like the whole village needed notification, like the village demands explanation.
Hours passed and as I was satisfied with my new setup for the clinic, I took a break, sitting down and looking at the mountain of paperwork and folders placed on and around my desk. I picked one, thinking to myself that I might as well have a look now, with nothing else of note to do.
Patient #010438 Name redacted 43/Female
History of present illness: Patient had 3 day history of undocumented fever, dysuria, and bilateral flank pain Did not seek consult, no medications taken
Past Medical History Unremarkable
Personal and Social History Unremarkable
OB history illegible
Physical Examination BP 110/80 HR 102 RR 20
Nonhyperemic tonsils No murmurs Clear breath sounds Nontender abdomen (+) Kidney punch test
Noted a signature of the patient claiming she was not pregnant as a form of waiver
"Jesus grandpa, couldn't your history and physical exam get any lazier?" I thought to myself. Seeing pertinent history not asked and multiple organ systems ignored on physical examination. Given, some of the writing were already faded, the quality of the paper had deteriorated greatly, and plenty of details already illegible, all in all the documents weren't that bad. It sure doesn't help though that he writes like someone in the middle of a warzone practicing heiroglyphs.
I skimmed through more of the documents and patient files, most of the cases are relatively benign, majority are outpatient visits, some are emergency cases and there are the rare ones requiring transfer to a more developed town hours from here with better services and equipment. Time passed and as I lay down the last folder in a pile, I noticed a moderately sized box, probably the size of a briefcase, placed on the floor, dusty but obviously ornate. It piqued my interest although in my mind, I was pretty sure it was nothing but more documents, I decided to give it a look.
I picked a stack up and I started to read:
Patient #00512c Name redacted 32/Female
"Weird" I thought, it was numbered differently, and definitely none of the other documents were lettered. I continued reading:
History of present illness: This is a case of a 32 year old female who came in on date redacted due to a chief complaint of multiple hematomas, abrasions, burn wounds and lacerations on her face, trunk and extremeties..."
"Trauma? An accident? Possible abuse?" I contemplated.
"...patient allegedly noticed easy bruisability 2 weeks prior to consult, followed by alleged spontaneous appearance of abrasions and lacerations 2-3 days from onset of bruising, supposedly waking the patient at night due to the sudden sharp and searing pain, initially small cuts 3-5cm widest on her extremeties and face but eventually progressing to deep cuts measuring approximately 10-50cm on her back, chest, abdomen and lower extremeties. 1 week prior to consult, patient started noticing burning sensations on her skin, causing extreme pain and leaving reddish burn marks on her body, patient also experienced lack of appetite and inability to sleep due to loud voices and..."
"Spontaneous appearance? Easy bruising could be a lot of things, but for it to occur with 'spontaneous' abrasions and lacerations? Not to mention burn marks?" I thought out loud, having doubts about the credibility of the use of the word "spontaneous". Surely it was not an accident, considering it started 2 weeks ago with noted progression. "It could be a hematologic problem with the bruising, but that wouldn't explain the sudden appearance of cuts...maybe accompanied by a dermatologic one, the patient is prone to breaks in the skin? But then again the burn marks...the voices..." I analyzed. I was leaning towards abuse, where the cuts and bruises were inflicted by someone else and the abused, whether in some form of fear or coping, decides that it was "spontaneous" rather than inflicted, but why bother lying to yourself, perhaps the one who did it to her is a partner? Or a loved one? It made sense, someone progressively becoming more aggressive with her as time went by, becoming more and more extreme, from bruises to eventually burning.
It could a combination of illnesses to be honest, one on top of another, perhaps an overly sensitive or extremely dry skin that breaks and peels until it bleeds, an allergic reaction prompting the patient to unconciously scratch till her skin became red and lichenified, voices due to lack of sleep or a mental disorder. But looking at my grandfather's physical examination of her, none of the findings solidifies the possibility of those i've mentioned. Truth be told I also partially allowed myself to tunnel vision on the prospect of an abuse, to the point I've skipped some of the chart's contents that I deemed weren't important and tried to look for information to support my claim, or perhaps to disprove it, rookie mistake, but well, I am a rookie then.
"Patient is widowed, lives alone at a secluded area near redacted, only goes out to buy some necessities from redacted but has very minimal interaction from anyone in the village"
Okay then, either she is hiding the fact someone was with her, who is abusing her like I initially thought of, or it's self harm. "I'm pretty sure grandpa considered everything that went through my mind right now. Let me check his initial impression" I thought, with a tinge of annoyance, considering I felt that the patient lied to my grandfather, and was lying to me, decades after the fact.

1 Trauma, to consider physical abuse versus self harm;

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere" I said to myself, with a bit of pride having the same thought process as a physician with decades more experience than I do.

2 To consider mental disorder, probably psychotic - premature dementia

I chuckled. Premature dementia, didn't think i'd see that term, I thought everyone including those from his time would have used schizophrenia already, then again medicine and medical knowledge isn't as easily passed around as it is now. Psychiatry as a science would be relatively new during his time compared to other disciplines so the fact he considered it based on the patient hearing "voices"? Bravo gramps.
"Well...", I thought to myself, "...plenty of things to consider and rule out, let me check what else is there." A bit of cockiness on picking my grandfather's brain out and feeling good about my train of thought, a practice consult and so far, I'm on my way to a perfect score...

3. To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

.................
I gave the document a stern look, unmoving, unblinking, emotionless. Time has stopped, and I haven't noticed. My brain trying to digest the information, the same way my stomach would probably digest a block of steel...it's just not possible. I read one of my grandfather's diagnosis again:

3 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

I never been one for faith. Evidence is everything. Science is everything. You can replicate it, you can prove it. Most importantly...It. Makes. Sense. I look at beliefs not based on evidence and feel nothing but skepticism if not disdain. Why won't people listen to expert opinion? Why won't people believe in facts? Why explain the unknown in such convoluted ways, requiring submission of oneself when the only thing the truth requires is but comprehension. I looked at that diagnosis feeling disappointment.
Then I felt anger. "Grandpa, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" I thought to myself. Here is a woman, full of bruises, cuts and burns all over her body, claiming that she has been suffering for weeks, barely eats or sleeps, was having auditory hallucinations, in dire need of medical, if not emotional and psychological support and one of the things that comes across your mind is possession.
I tried to calm my mind, these are records of the past anyway, I thought. Maybe it was a resignation born out of incompetence. Maybe grandpa wasn't as good of a doctor as I thought he was, that the shortcomings of his knowledge and limited technology of his time prompted him to adopt a more...liberal viewpoint to medicine. Maybe he was just superstitious himself. Maybe the people of this place had leaked some of their local beliefs into his psyche. Maybe isolation changed the man. Or maybe...just maybe...there's something to it.
I've never been one for faith. That goes for my faith in science as well. To just say that something is stupid because it doesn't align with standard, accepted scientific belief is just as detrimental as its counterpart.
I decided to investigate further when I heard the entrance to the room open with force. One of the maids leaning onto the wall by the entrance, still grasping the doorknob and evidently out of breath.
"Sir...ma'am Martha...calling...for you...says...it's...it's...an emergency..." She says in between breaths.
I quickly stood up, feeling sorry for the woman, she just ran, obviously gasping for air as she arrived at the clinic and now has to lead me back to wherever she came from with the same urgency. At first I was worried something might have happened with Martha, what the maid said didn't really give much clarity, but upon arriving at the main hall I noticed Martha, standing beside a middle aged man and woman, carrying a child, no more than 10 years old. I notice the clear panic and worry on both of their eyes as the man held the boy, who was uncontrollably shaking.
"I know you're not taking any patients yet and I was considering the time, but nobody knows what to do so I..." Martha explains, quite concerned while I ordered the parents to put the child flat on the ground, with me assessing the situation. The first thing I noticed was that the child was burning hot, "possibly febrile seizure? No, too old" I thought. I asked both the parents important details while I ordered the other maid to time the duration of the child's seizure. All the while thinking of possible diseases that may present as such, "Seizure disorder? Epilepsy? Meningitis? Encephalitis?" Eventually the shaking stopped, much to the parents' relief, and I ordered them to carry the boy as we made our way back to the clinic.
"Was this the first time it ever happened?" I inquired, as I put the child on one of the beds in the clinic, securing the corners with additional pillows, noticing the sunken face and apparent exhaustion from the boy, possibly due to the ongoing fever and the recent seizure episode. Once secured, I face the parents and continued my inquiries, I eventually explained everything, elaborating on what I believe happened, I explained that for now, lowering the fever and investigating the source were what we could address, the battery of tests I plan to do (disappointingly, most of them cannot be done here, and I would have to accompany them to a hospital on another town as soon as first light breaks), and the medications and management I plan to give. Everything proceeded as planned and I asked both parents to relax and take a breather, offering them a seat and asking the help to give them water.
Things eventually settled, little Johnny's fever subsided and color came back to him. Nowhere near clear, he can worsen anytime, but that was the best that we could do at that time. The parents were still worried, understandably so, but to an extent reassured, we have a plan after all. Martha, as well as Diane (the help from earlier), now at a calmer state. We discussed the plan, how we would travel, who would accompany us and what we would bring. Eventually, our conversations became relaxed, started to shift to other things, trivial matters, such as were they lived in the village, the date and time of my arrival, recent gossip, where Martha was more than happy to share.
"I was worried the evil spirits might have gotten my baby..." Said the mother nonchalantly, as we talked about the occurrence on a lighter note. "...that's how they got Mrs. Johnson's middle child. That poor boy was never the same after."
I smiled. Not wanting to immediately correct them and sound like an uptight individual. It's part of our culture afterall, old belief systems and a way for people to cope with loss or difficulty, who was I to deny them that. I won't approach these people the hardheaded way, but I will slowly show them the realities and truths of the things they may not understand, well, at least with regards to their health.
"Well, little Johnny is safe here, we'll do what we can" pointing to their son.
Only, their son wasn't where he was supposed to be. I look at the parents, I look at both Martha and Diane, everyone who looked at where I pointed were just as shocked as I was, a split second of silence before panic ensued. Suddenly, everyone stood up on high alert and was looking everywhere. Under covers, under the bed, corners of the room, the desk, behind curtains, hell, I saw Diane look at one of the damn drawers, as if a 10 year old would fit there.
Suddenly I heard loud vomiting, retching, followed by sounds of splashing. I follow where the sounds came from and see a large pool of black, tarry liquid at a corner of my room. I slowly trace where it was coming from and there he was...little Johnny...standing...upside down...on the ceiling.
I hear everyone in the room scream, I was probably screaming too, I couldn't remember. I do remember little Johnny screaming with us though, extremely high pitched and mockingly, with bloodshot eyes, upside down, while black liquid poured from his mouth, covering his face and dripping from his hair. How was that even possible, screaming while liters of unknown fluid dripped from his mouth? I don't know.
Then he laughed, although I was pretty sure that wasn't his voice. It was deep and guttural, it cannot be the boy's voice, it cannot be any boy's voice.
Time seemed to move in slow motion, I was noticing every detail, every expression from everyone's face, I can feel the seconds hand on my wall clock move, the slow dripping of the viscous dark liquid from little Johnny, I can feel every drop of sweat on my body. I could not cope with what i'm experiencing, was it a trick of the mind, an organized prank, have I gone mad...again? So I did the only thing I know how to do...
I tried to diagnose.
"Maybe it was dengue shock all along!" I thought to myself. "Vomiting blood, paleness, fever, an episode of seizure and definitely change in sensorium" I reasoned to myself. I was coping, and I was coping hard. I was ready to drown on my self absorbtion when a booming voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"YOU DUMB FUCK, WILL ANY ILLNESS EXPLAIN WHY YOUR FUCKING PATIENT IS HANGING UPSIDE DOWN ON THE FUCKING CEILING?" Said little Johnny, or at least whoever was speaking on his behalf, because from where I'm standing, I can clearly see that the boy was not mouthing any of the words he said.
"YOU'RE A FUCKING FAILURE, DOCTORS LIKE YOU SHOULD KILL THEMSELVES! HAHAHAHA" he laughed, I never knew laughs could sound like that, as if the words were nails, and his voice box a chalkboard.
"OH WAIT, YOU FAILED AT THAT TOO DOC! FUCKING PATHETIC!"
Of all the things that were happening...a young boy hanging upside down, a mother crying on the floor hysterically, a father staring at his son, eyes wide open and mouth agape, Martha and Diane, both crying while sharing a rosary, in the act of what I assume to be prayer...the thing that snapped me out of my trance was the words that came from little Johnny. Knowledge nobody but the closest to me should know. A secret I planned to leave behind when I left the city, a wound I intended to forget as I started anew.
Visions of my memories came flashing back...medical school...overwhelming duty...familial expectations...failure...depression...my attempt...a bottle of medications...my mother...crying...on my bedside...
"LEAVE MY SON ALONE!" Johnny's father screamed. Starling everyone in the room.
Nothing matters, the past is in the past, I am better now, and that boy needs help, more than anything.
"YOUR SON? WHY DON'T WE ASK THAT CRYING WHORE IF JOHNNY REALLY IS YOUR SON" The voice says, laughing.
At that point the mother stops crying, looks up towards johnny, then towards his husband, in a state of shock. Like what the voice said is crazier than whatever was happening at the moment.
"THE ONLY REASON THAT WHORE STUCK WITH YOU WAS BECAUSE JOHNNY'S REAAAAAAAL FATHER WOULD NOT TAKE HER!" The entity says, continuing the hysteric laughter.
We were being played. It was toying with us. And from the look on the mother's face...it seems like little Johnny did not even need to lie to do it.
Then, to everyone's horror..."It" started to run.
It ran across the ceiling in a rabid frenzy, erratic and forceful, running and jumping, hopping sideways then going on all fours, still attached to the ceiling, splashing bile and blood all over the room, all the while making a "hihihi" sound...childish and terrifying. It ran and ran, repeating the same erratic change in movements, repeating the same eerie giggle until it reached the window, stopping and standing straight, it stared outside for what felt like forever...then all of a sudden...johnny just fell, like whatever was attaching him to the ceiling just gave, headfirst into the floor, giving a very audible cracking sound.
I heard a gasp from johnny's mother. I can at least detect some miniscule chest expansion, but that cracking sound cannot be anything good. As if thinking the same thing, Martha, who was the nearest to where Johnny fell, while still clinging tightly to Diane's rosary, approached the boy.
"Johnny?" She said softly, all the while approaching an inch at a time.
As she was almost at arms length of the boy's body, she gives the mother a knowing look, confirming that he was breathing. Martha suddenly produces a piece of cloth from one of the pockets of her uniform, possibly to pack the bleeding from the head. She intended to put the cloth on top of the boy's head, but looked towards my direction, urging me forward, perhaps for me to place it properly. I walk towards the boy, takes the cloth from Martha and as I fold the cloth to circle Johnny's cranium with Martha's help, the boy immediately sat up, looks at Martha and smiles ear to ear...literally ear to ear.
"GET YOUR WRINKLY HANDS OFF ME YOU DUSTY OLD FUCK!" He barks at her, Martha screams in fear and I was taken aback.
That was all the time Johnny needed to stand and jump towards the window, breaking it and running towards the mountainside. I hear his father scream his name, quickly breaking more glass so he could fit, and immediately giving chase. The mother was still on the floor, wailing towards the direction of her child and husband. Martha, in shock, still holding the cloth she intended to wrap johnny with.
It took me a while to notice Diane shaking me vigorously. "Doctor!" She screams. "Doctor Smith! What should we do!?" She voices out, with obvious desperation.
I ignored her.
I feel scared, but taking all into consideration, I predominantly feel tired. Defeated. Insulted.
I have nothing more to give in the face of whatever that thing that took Johnny was.
I slowly walk towards my desk, I open my drawer, I take a piece of paper and I pull out my pen.
Patient #00001a Name redacted 10/M
I write, giving no thoughts to the people on the same room as me, those left behind by little Johnny and his father. "Did he catch up to him? Was the boy alright now?...is his father alright?" I wonder. I'll find out soon enough, I figured, rumors spread like wildfire around here anyways.
I continued to write with resignment, absorbed in my own little world, consumed by the horror I witnessed, the breaking of my spirit, of my beliefs, the questioning of my knowledge. I want to escape it, deny it, but that's not what should be done to the truth. So I surrendered.

1 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

END

TLDR: how to tell manny I'm cutting his hours??
Long story, lots of details:
About a year and a half ago I hired a young man to work with my kid.
My kid is now 11 and is Asperger's profile autistic. Kid's gifted, highly verbal, and socially inclined, and also struggles with a lot of social "structure" and school has been an ongoing difficulty. They don't engage kid's intellect enough, and the "shuffling around" of most school settings is distressing to kid.
Kid was nominally homeschooled last year for 3rd grade (kid is defiant at home, compliant at school), and I hired this young man, Jason, in Jan 2023 as a tutor at $30/hour. He understood this was more of a "hang out and teach the kid about life" situation than it was a formal tutoring situation. We call him my kid's "mentor" and Jason is great with my kid, and gives me insight at times and is really a helpful support for me and my kid. I also use Jason as childcare, so sometimes the hours add up.
My kid accepted Jason and became very attached. Jason was/is very thoughtful with my kid and my family, and also has been a good friend to me as well. Our family situation from 2020-2023 was VERY difficult, and this child (my older out of two) was truly disturbed from the lockdowns of 2020 with extremely dangerous behavior. Jason was basically the only person who my child was calm with, not even his other parent could keep the child calm.
In this environment I grew to rely on Jason and often asked for more hours than we'd originally discussed, and he was very accommodating, often changing his schedule to give me more time, even giving up some other clients.
A few months later he asked for $40/hour and I said yes. We live in a very high cost of living area.
We continued on with me often asking for more hours and he accommodating.
Then a few more months after that, I got some supplementary funds through a program for autistic children, which would pay a portion of the cost, at which point he asked for a raise to $60/hour. This was almost but not quite covered by the supplemental funds (and less so if I add more hours because the supplemental funds are set). Again, we are in a very high cost of living area, and while this is a lot to PAY, it actually isn't that much to EARN. And as I knew Jason was not working full time, and often keeping his schedule clear to accommodate us, I felt ok with it. Also, he was basically the only person who connected with my son! So that's 1) valuable but also 2) leaves me without any other options. Overall, this still felt fair at the time.
My son has improved over the past year and a half, and my life has gotten better, and I do credit Jason among other things (like therapy, medications, family effort, some part time school engagement, and simple maturity) as part of what got us here.
After about 1 year with Jason, I told my co-parent I wanted a divorce. A month after that my co-parent (who was also the sole income earner) stopped working (a separate story unto itself). My co-parent made good money, and we have good savings, but I don't know when it will be realistic for either of us to go back to work, because of the complicated family situation.
That brings us to now, and soon (I swear) my question.
We currently don't have income, are living off savings, which we can do for a while. I'm moving out next month and we will have two households to pay for. My co-parent can do some more caregiving (which wasn't possible when we just hired Jason) - although this is not straightforward as there is a history of difficulty between my co-parent & my older son. We may need to pay for private school next year.
I've told Jason I need to cut back on hours, or really just STICK to the hours I always said (but always asked for more). I have also promised to NOT ask for more hours nor changes to the schedule, so he can bring on other clients (and I've been sticking to it). He knows our family well and has mildly questioned this, as my co-parent has some fairly expensive habits (obviously not in my control). Jason has also stayed over the requested hours multiple times (sometimes hard because my kid can become disregulated and it can be hard to leave).
Jason is great with my kid, but ultimately I don't want to pay someone to hang out with my kid anymore. I want my kid to spend time with peers, etc, and as my kid is improving, I think pulling back on the tutomentor will help open space for other activities.
So, question... If I consider Jason a friend and I'm sympathetic to his wish for more hours, but I also need to prioritize different things in my budget, how strictly do I tell him "don't go over hours"? How strict do I need to be if he goes over? I think we both value the friendship and it can make the discussions awkward, but the bigger problem right now is sticking to what's discussed.
And if I am expecting his hours to go down even more in a few months, do I tell him that now? Or do I focus on the current limit and wait to tell him about the next step down when it happens?

I really need perspective from other people on 2 issues.
TLDR: 1. How often do you raise your voice at your toddler? 2. Am I being AH in saying that it’s not normal?
My husband grew up in a yelling home. Bickering all the time and then the parents were too nice for a while, rinse, repeat. 0 communication skills. I grew up with parents saying I (we) needed to solve my own conflicts (with my siblings) from a young age. I’d get angry at my siblings and then we’d apologize/help each other and that was that. My norm is getting angry, cooling off and then verbalizing an issue.
My husband’s temper used to be short, now it’s medium. He worked hard to be less passive aggressive, less volatile, use his words.
However, he still raises his voice at our son (21 months) 2+ times a day. Ie When changing his diaper our son will squirm, try to turn away (I don’t think he likes his ankles being held together as he doesn’t cry with me), and my husband will say “no! Stop. Stop it. Cut it out! God damn it”. I’ve asked him not to hold his ankles together, to give him a distraction (squeeze pouch, peel a tangerine, etc), or to ask him to do things in a normal time of voice or explain so that long term our son can understand what’s being asked and comply. He brushes this off. I’ve asked before the change, during and I’ve talked to him about it when he’s calm.
My husband was in the bathroom using the toilet, my son went in there and started messing with the cat scoop which is a no-go. I heard the tell tale clang and got up to walk in and help. As I was walking to the bathroom my husband is yelling at him to stop, drop it, cut it out. This doesn’t help, it’s not effective, our child isn’t listening to the direction so I detach the scoop and let son know the litter box is off limits and yucky and also ask my husband to give our son what to do instead of what not to do. My husband is already really irate and snaps at me.
There are times my husband doesn’t talk to him like that. He explains that things are ouch or not, is patient, and is willing to teach son how to use X thing correctly or why we don’t do something. But there are a significant portion of instances where my husband is not thinking in my son’s shoes and just speaks to him in such an unempathetic manner. He gets overwhelmed, overstimulated easily. He’s a very anxious person and goes 0-50 pretty easily if things aren’t perfect (and they never have been). He talks to the dog like this, too. (He says the dog is never going to change so he just gets frustrated when she barks, etc. He is eternally stuck in helplessness while I am an eternal optimist).
This is every day, multiple times a day. But not ever around other people or in public. This is why I feel it isn’t normal.
Is that normal? To talk to your son like that in 25% of your interactions? Do you?
He says I talk to our son like that too and when I asked him to explain he cited when I was trying to get him away from a broken plant pot and when I was trying to get him to not spill a cup of coffee on himself today (the latter was a very short, “no, put that back!” and when he didn’t I gently took it from him and set it next to me). There’s a difference between safety and inconvenience.
My second ask, when I try to talk to my husband about these things he redirects away from himself and says “you do xyz things wrong too” or “well what would you have done any better” or “oh my god it’s always something”. To be fair I do feel pretty anxious/sick about what messages my son is going to take away from our household dynamic so I do think I’m (clearly not very helpfully) commenting too much when I see these things. Do you think…I guess, what can I do better? Or is it ok so I should just stop commenting? I feel like I’m stuck in a very sad and anxious place about what we’re modeling for our son and then that makes me not see the good in my husband.
For context. He is the SAHD and just finished school for the semester. He’s stressed about money right now as I just quit my job, but I intend to have a job within the next two months and my family won’t let anything happen to us. In general he is always like this, it doesn’t really go up and down. No other stressors.
I guess I’m just seeing if people say this is normal then I can just let it go and remove a layer of stress from our dynamic. I feel like our days are a cycle of arguing about this.
I will say, he has allowed himself to go with the flow of my parenting. No getting mad about crayon on the walls, or taking stuff out of the trash, or throwing food on the floor. We just teach him not to do it and teach him to clean stuff up/rely on explaining things and now son doesn’t do those things anymore. Our son helps us do dishes, make food, sweep, vacuum so I don’t think we’re doing too bad, there.