My body smells like matches

"i tell you kids, back in my day, we had it so rough... or so much better, i can't tell anymore. anyway, every day, we would wake up at 2 in the morning and go to the table for breakfast. we all lived in a closet, you see, so it was one room. and we would ask, me and my 64 brothers and 27 sisters, "what's for breakfast mum?". she would smack us all with a shoe and say "cold beans". and if we complained and said "but we had cold beans yesterday" - because we had cold beans every day - she would smack us all five times with a shoe and say "tough its all we can afford. i'm trying to feed a family of 93 with just half a silver buckington", a silver buckington was about the same as half a penny back in the day. then we would head to school. we met up with the johnson kids from down the road, and walked the 1674 miles to school. on the way to school, we had to walk up a mountain so tall it extended to outer space. when we got to the top of the mountain, we would see the peterson boys on their fancy bikes - which they dont make like they used to, and we would race them down the mountain. then, when we got to school at 4 in the morning, the headmaster would come up to us and say "you bloody kids are late", then he would smack us all with the cane 10 times and tell us we had 7 years of detention. then, we went to class, and mr stevenson would say "ok line up kids", then he would spank us each 60 times, then hit us each with the cane 40 times each. then it was 7 at night and we had to walk home. then, when we got home, we'd ask "whats for dinner mum?", and she'd smack us each 50 times with a pan and say "rotten cabage". and if we complained, she would smack us each 100 times with a broom and say "im trying to feed a family of 154 on just one islet sliver, just you wait until your dad gets home" - now an islet silver was worth about as much as a grain of sand. then, when our dad got home from his job at the soot factory, he would hit us all 180 times with his belt. if we had been naughty, we would hit us all another 600 times. then, at 1:58, mum would say "ok time for bed". then, we got into our potato sacks, and she would hit us each with a shoe 8 times before we went to sleep. on saturdays, we went down to uncle bob's farm to work. we would have to walk 345 miles to the bus stop, then catch the route 4 bus for 56 stops. we would get on the bus and pay our fare of 3 teddy roses - now a teddy rose is worth about the same as a flake of skin. then, if the ticket inspector came to us, he would hit us all 4 times with his baton. if any of us had lost our ticket, we would hit us all 10 times again and throw us off the bus and we had to walk the rest of the way. when we got to the farm, uncle bob would drive to the gate in his tractor, hit us all 780 times with his crowbar, and tell us to get in his trailer so he could drive us to the farm house. then, we had to plow the fields with a toothbrush in the blazing summer heat - now, they dont make summers like they used to, so it was about 1345.4 degrees spencer, or 67 degrees centigrade using your new-fangled metric system. then, we would have to milk the cows - now, they dont make cows like they used to, so each cow weighed about 459 hog's heads, or 3.2 tonnes in your new-fangled metric system. if you touched a cows udder, it would kick you and you would die, so you had to be really careful when you milked the cows. then, when we were done, uncle bob would say "ok kids time for your pocket money". he would give us each 9 copper jemimahs - which are worth about one political promise each - and beat us each 6 times with his tractor before we left. on sundays, we would meet the johnson boys and go down to the river - now, they don't make rivers like they used to, so this river was about as wide as the whole of america, and as deep as the marianas trench, and it was filled with liquid tungsten. we would play by the old oak tree near the river, climbing on it and building tree houses and such. now - they don't make trees like they used to, so this tree had a trunk as thick as a city, and was tall enough that the branches on the top could scrape the moon. one day, little jimmy fell from the top of the tree. when he hit the ground, the only bit of his body we could recognise was his left eyeball. we picked up all his bits and rushed him to the doctors surgery. dr james said "oh its just a scratch little jimmy dont worry pop a plaster on it and you'll be right" and he gave little jimmy a plaster and a lollipop and he was ok. after we finished playing by the river, we would go into town and get some candy. now, back in the day, you could give the shopkeeper one bronze winglet - which is worth about as much as a ciggarette butt - and he would give you the entire stock of the store. so we would go and get our candy, and we'd go into the town square and eat it. now, we didn't have any of your fancy food laws back in the day, so there was all kinds of stuff in our candy. bleach, lsd, ecstasy, you name it. so we would always get a little hyper after our candy. one day, when we were hyper, we went up the mr boris's car, the only car in the town, and touched it. as we touched it, we saw dad storming down the street holding his belt. "you kids, having fun while i work all day in the soot factory just so you can have grilled water for tea every night, i oughta smack you all". we were sure he was going to smack us, but then he said "no, i got a better idea, ill take you to see mr henderson, he'll set ya right". now, dad had told us about mr henderson. mr henderson was a veteran from the great war, where he got a really bad injury, but we never knew what it was. dad walked us all down to the pub, and we saw a left testicle propped up on a pegleg. "mr henderson," said dad, "i have some kids here who need a good whooping". then, mr henderson picked up the entire pub, and hit us each 4006 times with it. then, dad said "right, i gotta go back to the soot factory, you kids run on home now". now, by now it was 1pm, which meant it was curfew. while we were walking out of the town square, we heard a man shout "oi you bloody kids, its curfew". we turned around and saw the constable holding his baton. he hit us each 160265 times with his baton, then put us in gaol for 60123865 years. now - they don't make gaols like they used to - this one had 5 mile thick steel walls, and a single hole in the top let in some light. we were in there for about 13526 years, until mum baked the constable some cardboard pie so he would let us out. then, she hit us all 1292 times with a washboard, and grounded us for the rest of our lives. so don't you come complaining to me about nonsense like not being able to breathe or not being able to feel your legs.

So she's a Chihuahua mix rescue and she's very old with heartworm and very bad eyesight, she's completely deaf, and we don't know how she spent most of her life but she was found on the streets. She always seemed like really excessively obsessed with food, more than any other dog I've experienced. She's just constantly looking for food, like obsessively checking the floor every couple minutes and looks completely desperate whenever we go in the kitchen. Her face is just pure desperation, it seems vital to her to get fed, but I have given her so much food and it's just never enough, it actually gets her more anxious the more food i give her. Which leads me to believe she's under stimulated, especially because she spends most of her time in the house and my parents don't take her for very long or frequent walks. She loves sniffing on walks, so I've tried to take her on walks myself, but she is very cautious of anyone who aren't my parents, as she's mainly their dog, so she won't let me or my sister get close to herto put the leash on her. She hides under a chair when we try. So I can't take her on walks, as that would cause more anxiety, and she doesn't like playing with toys, cuddling, or being pet by anyone except my dad. My parents have their own things going on, so I can't ask them to take her on more walks. There's a good amount of time she spends alone downstairs, especially because she gets very pushy with my dad when it's 1-2 hours near a mealtime, so he puts her downstairs. Also sometimes my parents are out for several hours, when they're doing work. She really likes being in the bedroom with my dad, that's where she always settles down and seems comfortable, but she can't always be there, and she seems very on alert downstairs. I am trying to sit downstairs with her so she's not alone all the time, but I haven't noticed any big changes in her anxiety. Honestly we just don't know how much time she has left but it's not a lot, and she seems to have lived a hard life, so I want to make things a little nicer for her now. She has good things in her life, especially her relationship with my dad, but I was wondering if anyone has any ideas on how to make the time she spends downstairs a little more peaceful, because it seems like a lot to be stuck alone inside for 6-8 hours a day. She is too scared to go in the backyard, and my parents don't like me to give her food, but I give her bread and yogurt and stuff like that anyway, in moderation, because she has such a keen sense of smell and her food smells disgusting, i feel like she deserves more. That's just extra information but if anyone has any ideas on how she can be more stimulated and less anxious, I'd appreciate it. Thanks :)

"i tell you kids, back in my day, we had it so rough... or so much better, i can't tell anymore. anyway, every day, we would wake up at 2 in the morning and go to the table for breakfast. we all lived in a closet, you see, so it was one room. and we would ask, me and my 64 brothers and 27 sisters, "what's for breakfast mum?". she would smack us all with a shoe and say "cold beans". and if we complained and said "but we had cold beans yesterday" - because we had cold beans every day - she would smack us all five times with a shoe and say "tough its all we can afford. i'm trying to feed a family of 93 with just half a silver buckington", a silver buckington was about the same as half a penny back in the day. then we would head to school. we met up with the johnson kids from down the road, and walked the 1674 miles to school. on the way to school, we had to walk up a mountain so tall it extended to outer space. when we got to the top of the mountain, we would see the peterson boys on their fancy bikes - which they dont make like they used to, and we would race them down the mountain. then, when we got to school at 4 in the morning, the headmaster would come up to us and say "you bloody kids are late", then he would smack us all with the cane 10 times and tell us we had 7 years of detention. then, we went to class, and mr stevenson would say "ok line up kids", then he would spank us each 60 times, then hit us each with the cane 40 times each. then it was 7 at night and we had to walk home. then, when we got home, we'd ask "whats for dinner mum?", and she'd smack us each 50 times with a pan and say "rotten cabage". and if we complained, she would smack us each 100 times with a broom and say "im trying to feed a family of 154 on just one islet sliver, just you wait until your dad gets home" - now an islet silver was worth about as much as a grain of sand. then, when our dad got home from his job at the soot factory, he would hit us all 180 times with his belt. if we had been naughty, we would hit us all another 600 times. then, at 1:58, mum would say "ok time for bed". then, we got into our potato sacks, and she would hit us each with a shoe 8 times before we went to sleep. on saturdays, we went down to uncle bob's farm to work. we would have to walk 345 miles to the bus stop, then catch the route 4 bus for 56 stops. we would get on the bus and pay our fare of 3 teddy roses - now a teddy rose is worth about the same as a flake of skin. then, if the ticket inspector came to us, he would hit us all 4 times with his baton. if any of us had lost our ticket, we would hit us all 10 times again and throw us off the bus and we had to walk the rest of the way. when we got to the farm, uncle bob would drive to the gate in his tractor, hit us all 780 times with his crowbar, and tell us to get in his trailer so he could drive us to the farm house. then, we had to plow the fields with a toothbrush in the blazing summer heat - now, they dont make summers like they used to, so it was about 1345.4 degrees spencer, or 67 degrees centigrade using your new-fangled metric system. then, we would have to milk the cows - now, they dont make cows like they used to, so each cow weighed about 459 hog's heads, or 3.2 tonnes in your new-fangled metric system. if you touched a cows udder, it would kick you and you would die, so you had to be really careful when you milked the cows. then, when we were done, uncle bob would say "ok kids time for your pocket money". he would give us each 9 copper jemimahs - which are worth about one political promise each - and beat us each 6 times with his tractor before we left. on sundays, we would meet the johnson boys and go down to the river - now, they don't make rivers like they used to, so this river was about as wide as the whole of america, and as deep as the marianas trench, and it was filled with liquid tungsten. we would play by the old oak tree near the river, climbing on it and building tree houses and such. now - they don't make trees like they used to, so this tree had a trunk as thick as a city, and was tall enough that the branches on the top could scrape the moon. one day, little jimmy fell from the top of the tree. when he hit the ground, the only bit of his body we could recognise was his left eyeball. we picked up all his bits and rushed him to the doctors surgery. dr james said "oh its just a scratch little jimmy dont worry pop a plaster on it and you'll be right" and he gave little jimmy a plaster and a lollipop and he was ok. after we finished playing by the river, we would go into town and get some candy. now, back in the day, you could give the shopkeeper one bronze winglet - which is worth about as much as a ciggarette butt - and he would give you the entire stock of the store. so we would go and get our candy, and we'd go into the town square and eat it. now, we didn't have any of your fancy food laws back in the day, so there was all kinds of stuff in our candy. bleach, lsd, ecstasy, you name it. so we would always get a little hyper after our candy. one day, when we were hyper, we went up the mr boris's car, the only car in the town, and touched it. as we touched it, we saw dad storming down the street holding his belt. "you kids, having fun while i work all day in the soot factory just so you can have grilled water for tea every night, i oughta smack you all". we were sure he was going to smack us, but then he said "no, i got a better idea, ill take you to see mr henderson, he'll set ya right". now, dad had told us about mr henderson. mr henderson was a veteran from the great war, where he got a really bad injury, but we never knew what it was. dad walked us all down to the pub, and we saw a left testicle propped up on a pegleg. "mr henderson," said dad, "i have some kids here who need a good whooping". then, mr henderson picked up the entire pub, and hit us each 4006 times with it. then, dad said "right, i gotta go back to the soot factory, you kids run on home now". now, by now it was 1pm, which meant it was curfew. while we were walking out of the town square, we heard a man shout "oi you bloody kids, its curfew". we turned around and saw the constable holding his baton. he hit us each 160265 times with his baton, then put us in gaol for 60123865 years. now - they don't make gaols like they used to - this one had 5 mile thick steel walls, and a single hole in the top let in some light. we were in there for about 13526 years, until mum baked the constable some cardboard pie so he would let us out. then, she hit us all 1292 times with a washboard, and grounded us for the rest of our lives. so don't you come complaining to me about nonsense like not being able to breathe or not being able to feel your legs.

Hey there!
like the title says I'm looking for my best friend, someone I can vibe with and talk to about anything never feeling judged or uncomfortable about it. someone I can watch movies with, joke around with go get some amazing food with and just genuinely enjoy our time together!
Honestly I would love for it to blossom into something romantic at some point however I want there to be a strong connection and friendship first and foremost.
You're probably wondering a bit about me so here's some quick info - I am a father to a beautiful 4 year old girl, I have a stable job and work from home, I have my own place too! I like to play PC games (wow, league, apex, POE to name a few), I love to cook and miss having someone to cook for, I love all animals and recently really got into fish keeping. as for movies I usually tend to watch comedies or thrillers as my main go-tos but happy to watch anything with the right person. as you can probably tell I'm a bit of a nerd which is very true so almost anything nerdy I'll probably like haha.
Physically I'm 6ft tall, and on the chubbier side of a dad body and while I do embrace the dad bod, as I am a dad, I am working on that by going to the gym and trying to live a healthier lifestyle as I want to stay active to keep up with my kiddo.
If this has peaked your interests and you'd like to talk more, please feel free to shoot me a message on here and I'll get back to you as fast as I can. Maybe start by letting me know the last thing that made you smile, and why? :)

First of all maybe this is written awfully but I just don't know from where to start and I need desprete help. I (16F) my boyfriend (16M) we knew each other since 8th grade but we started getting close back in March 2024. him and I have been dating for good two months and let me tell you the amount of shit we had to go through to just date were uncountable from fighting my crazy Psycho ex who SA me which I kind of didn't move on from plus his mum finding out Abt our relationship and threatened to call my mum also she tried to manipulate him into thinking I am playing him and I am dating two guys at the same time. It was horrible, really bad era that I would never wish to go back to. And Bec of the trauma my late ex caused my mental state probably isn't the best plus I got a lot of issues like I get really stressfed, anxious and worried over any minor inconvenience, I need attention and love 24/7 and lastly I get really moody at times but I still try to be my best for him...we are really great couple and I know it's pretty early to judge but the things we went through were not easy nor little, at least that's what 16 years old think. Through my relationship with him most of the time I am the needy and clingy one in the relationship but today It was the way around which scared tf out of me right away. Today morning he texted me and said that he might not be responsive Bec he got issues at home, I knew that a long time ago, his family issues are real bad. His parents fight all the time, they never were a great match. Moving on, him and I talked a lil bit through the day, we were texting in TikTok, we were laughing, happy and yk everything is fine (kind of) then he randomly went like "can I ask u favour?" I didn't reply right away cause I didn't notice the notification (I didn't take long like a min or less) then he send another text saying "sweetheart are u there?" I was confused asf, I texted back and asked him what is it. He said "please never leave me" that stabbed me and anxiety hit me, what's going on? What is happening??? I asked him if he is okay and he said he is fine. I didn't believe it so I kept asking more questions and that's when he gave in and told me everything. He said his father hasn't been constantly at home and he hasn't been home the last 4 days, however, today early morning at 4 am to be exact he tried to sneak in to take some of his stuff. His mother woke up and his parents talked for a lil bit then for some reason she opened his backpack and fucking saw protections and sex related medicines. Her only response to that was screaming her oldest son name which is my bf, he woke up went running to her and saw both of his parents standing in their bedroom. The moment his father saw him he closed the door but he could still hear them fight. His father admitted that he got married secretly to a second wife, he also have intentions to have kids with that woman and his only excuse for cheating and abounding his three children is that he didn't feel loved through this marriage. He kept telling her Abt how hot and perfect his new wife is which brought my boyfriend's mother into tears, he also told her his grown ass used to watch porn Bec she left him deprived. I was honestly left speechless when my boyfriend told me Abt the whole thing, he will have to take care of his younger siblings (they are twins 10f and 10m) and also his mum. His father absence means that he have to fill that rule at fucking sixteen. Fucking sixteen, he didn't even make it to college yet. I am scared for him, I don't know what to do. I comforted and assured him that I will take care of him but i can't help but cry for him, I am really weak and fragile..I want to get stronger mentally to take care of him but I don't know how. Please someone help me and give me tips. I need that.

(F22) I guess I just kinda need to vent. On April 21, 2024 I attempted suicide. I failed at it, obviously. The first 2 weeks were great, I felt on top of the world and I felt grateful to have had a second chance, but I also felt remorseful that it didn’t work. I feel guilty for what I’ve done to my loved ones. They say it’s ok, and that they understand. I joke about what happened because I don’t want them to worry. I promised I’d ask for help if I felt that way again. I’m working towards counseling and have a case manager But I feel even more guilty because the truth is, I want to try again.
I don’t want to be here. I’ve spent my entire 22 years of life feeling lost, feeling like a burden. I feel unlovable. I feel like I’m on the outside looking in on my own life. I want to escape myself. I want out of my head. I’ve tried meds and counseling in the past and none of it seems to work. I wonder if maybe I like being miserable. Happiness feels foreign to me and when I am happy I feel like my reactions are faked or cringey. And what did I do to deserve to feel good anyways? I don’t know. Maybe venting will help
I just know that I have a better plan for this time around. I’m not quite ready to let go yet. I. Want to see my little sister, my favorite cousins, and love on my girlfriend just a little more.
It almost makes me happy because I can do all of this, I can completely fill my life with love for a few more weeks and not have to worry that I’ll be alive to see the happiness end. I can’t handle change if I’m honest. There is a comfort in it all. And I know this is selfish. I know it is. Bt I cannot accurately describe what it’s like in my head and body. The constant worry, the constant fear, the other voice in my head I don’t want to hurt anyone like this, but I cannot handle it anymore

i met this guy on hinge and he seemed like a chill vibe. Based off of his photos he seemed to be someone i would be attracted to. dark complexion, medium build , introverted, and kind of nerdy. We had matched, exchanged numbers, and developed somewhat of a connection but nothing serious. we had mutual interest like video games, and x-men comics. i wanted to get to know him better outside of messaging and asked him if he wanted to see a movie. he responded with “i would love to, but i am currently not working and wouldn’t be comfortable with you paying for your own ticket on the first date.” i found that commendable, and understood that it was currently hard to get a job in our city at the moment (Toronto/GTA AREA). as we continued to talk he became eager to meet me in person, and asked if we could go on a walk. i agreed, but he proposed that we meet him somewhere five minutes away from his house, which was a 30 minute drive away from mine. i expressed that i didn’t feel comfortable doing that because i didn’t see the difference in paying for my own movie and paying for my own gas there and back to see someone for the first time. he also didn’t offer to meet anywhere in between which i would’ve been fine with. for context he told me he didn’t drive or have his license. he agreed with my sentiments and apologized, so we met somewhere in between the both of us. we walked around a local mall for an hour and i told him where to meet me. he had a little bit of trouble but we saw each other and embraced each other with a hug. he then pressed me for not giving him better details on where he could find me but i never thought anything of it. if i’m going to be honest i expected him to look different. firstly he lied about his height, which didn’t make any sense to me but whatever i don’t care for height. i also noticed his hygiene was off. he had insanely cracked dry skin, peeling lips, foam in the corner of his mouth, and an insane amount of build up under his long finger nails. i ignored it and just continued to walk and talk. i notice he couldn’t hold a conversation for his life making it very awkward but i sympathized with him, as he could’ve been nervous. time goes by we’re just walking, window shopping and then he asks for us to go get patties. we went to the patty shop, i bought a patty and he bought one. he noticed the hiring sign, and while on the date he filled out an application for that job. while he was filling out the application i was planning an exit in my head out of this situation. i found it a bit awkward and maybe rude to do so on your first date with someone. i didn’t say anything and then we went home. i went to my car and asked if he needed a ride. he said no, i drove here. at this point i wanted a gun to shoot my self. he had already told me he doesn’t have his license so i was confused how he drove here and why he wanted me to drive all the way to his end of the city if he could drive. i confronted him and told him i thought he didn’t drive. he told me its his dads car and he just takes it sometimes. we then hugged and went our separate ways. the next day he messages me talking about the kind of relationship he wants and tells me he just wants a sexual relationship but nothing serious. i was thinking of a response as this was random and we never had this convo or any conversation like this before. but as time went on i couldn’t think of a reply and ended up ghosting him. do you think i was justified in my actions, or should i have made a better effort to come up with a response?

I posted in another sub but wanted to get more thoughts/perspectives.
I do go to AlAnon and post on the subreddit fyi but I just wanted to get perspective from you all who have chosen and continue to choose to not drink. Apologize in advance for the long post. TLDR at end.
I (30F) have been dating my boyfriend (35M) for almost 4 years. Initially, his drinking wasn’t a problem, or so I thought. Six months into dating, he got so drunk with his friends, he ended up going to a strip club and wasting a ton of money. We had a very long conversation after that and promised me that he would never do anything like that again. Since then, he has had multiple episodes of not being able to control his drinking whenever he starts. Prior to me meeting him, he had gotten into a couple of car accidents due to his drinking.
About two years ago, he drank so much that he met up with random people to snort cocaine. He has also embarrassed himself in front of his bosses with his drinking, and has been fired from a job because he showed up hungover. And this is only the stuff I know.
He was sober for 14 months, and we had celebrated this win. A few months after that, we had to become long-distance because of work stuff. I thought that he had been doing well from a sobriety standpoint, however, I found out that he had actually been drinking and had been lying to me about it. We broke up last year for some other reasons.
Early this year, he reached out and said that he had been sober, and he was working on himself and he was ready to get back together. He said that he could not imagine living a life without me and wanted to do everything in his power to be together. I believed him, and we got back together. Within a couple months, he continued his old habits. I found out about two weeks ago that he had been lying about his sobriety and had actually only been sober for 21 days and then starting drinking again since we got back together. He doesn’t like AA, because he thinks that “everyone is super defeated and it makes me sad”, so I found a Smart recovery meeting that was close to him and gave him the website, the phone number, and the zoom link.
Last night, he had a work event that he went to. He promised he wouldn’t drink, but he ended up drinking all night. He drove 30 minutes to get back home, drunk. This is after we had a conversation 12 hours prior, where he said that the liquor store next to his gym disgusted him because he’s trying to “work out and be better and doesn’t want to put that type of poison” in his body.
He reached out to me today and told me that he wanted to drink because he just wanted to and didn’t call me earlier because he “didn’t want to get another lashing”. His brother is an alcoholic and recently lost his job, and he gets very stressed about him, so I told my boyfriend that the same way he feels about his brother is the same way I feel about him.
I don’t think ultimatums are good in a healthy relationship (keyword, healthy), however, I told my boyfriend that at this point, I don’t think I have the energy for his behavior anymore, and it’s up to him to decide whether or not he wants to be sober. I told him that if he wants to continue drinking, then I cannot be in his life and I would completely remove myself, so he has to make that decision for himself. He told me that he thinks it might be best for me to leave, however, he could not fathom a life without me and is refusing to accept ending our relationship. I’ve been there for him while he switched jobs, he’s had about four in the span of us being together. I’ve lent him money to help pay for bills or rent when money has been too tight for him. I’ve made sure he had food, and I would pack him snacks when he had long drives for work. I send food to him when I know he’ll be home late. I’ve gone from reprimanding him about his drinking to being more detached. I tried finding AA alternatives that he might like more.
So, for those of you who continue to choose being sober, is there something that I can do on my end or should I accept the blatantly obvious choice of leaving?
TLDR: alcoholic boyfriend continues to drink, cannot stop himself from drinking too much, and refuses to get sober

Warning: abuse
At 19F in the middle of active alcoholism 3 years after my mom went to jail for murder for hire, I was a SW (looking?) for a SD? - while out at a bar I got approached by a 43M that I found attractive and very charismatic. Thinking we’d end up having “fun”, I returned the honest sentiment of attraction. We stayed together 2.5 years after that. He was a Chemist who laughed and made light of everything, his alcoholism and drug addiction became apparent from the beginning, but not to the extent that it got to/really was.
Like all relationships, things started out fun, a very Glee movie summer-like love, very free-ing. He was a Doctor of chemistry and worked in the oil field prior to my meeting him, because of his living situation and luxury cars he seemed like he was doing well. He never was any type of SD. The night I met him, we made eye contact and never looked away. Our chemistry, pun intended- was like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I’m the youngest, not the smartest nor prettiest. I quit my jobs because I simply didn’t want to work sometimes, I made a lot of mistakes and I’ve been in the receiving end of family based bullying and school bullying, SA, R@p€, abandonment and trust issues, I’m bipolar, I practice/d SH, depression, GAD… things of the human condition that make it feel like I’m faulty.
This man was the first person that ever sat with me and listened to me vent to the extent that I did the first tight we spent together. We rarely had sex, but we shared breaths as we slept, (he inhales my breath as I exhale his breath, vise-versa and so on and so forth) to keep it brief and give example. He’s the most intimate partner I’ve ever experienced.
I notice others micro expressions and cater to their benefit if it seems they are troubled or asking for help.
I’m having so much trouble these days accepting the fact that I’m never going to meet him again. Specifically because he was so attentive and catering to my needs. He knew immediately when I was masking. I’m so confused and perplexed about the feeling of not having anyone in my life that has that interest in me. I felt so understood. That’s been my first and last experience with feeling understood like that.
He drank from morning to night nonstop. Together we became aware of what alcoholism was. Brown urine, blood, pain… regret that then led to arguments, accidents, threats, drugs, danger, fear turned to bonding, helping each other, trying to get better, failing. Trying again. Do it all over again. Fail. Again and again.
We managed to get sober a few days. His parents loved me. I understood and loved him. He hadn’t been sober for that long and trying for a long time. He was doing better, that’s what his mom would say.
Every relapse got harder, more dangerous medically and physically as well as economically.
Sleep deprivation was torture I hadn’t experienced before. I would be awoken with yelling because of delirium, anger and he would degrade me so badly. Use that bond we had against me, my own experiences turned against me he’d repeat the insults I shared with him to me. Yell those at me. Then love bomb. Then threaten me and my family with guns. I lived in fear when he blacked out. Felt lonely because with all of the yelling, smashing things around, being stared at by neighbors crying, being called an idiot dumbass in front of people and them witnessing me at a low point and then, agreeing with him? No neighbor knocked after crying and yelling to see if anyone was ok or dying. Public shame feels so. Fucking. Lonely. Isolation doesn’t help.
He stopped functioning. His body started giving out. I loved him. Took care of him cleaned his wounds after falls, his body after incontinence. He literally shed blood, shit and tears, regret and asked for forgiveness when I cared for him in his sober state.
In return, I’d receive non stop verbal abuse if I didn’t stop and do what he wanted me to at the time he wanted me to and how he wanted me to. If I didn’t give him my attention he’d end up getting it by threatening my family. And he would! Fight my brother and go after him with loaded guns. So there I would go do what he said. Forced to ride in a vehicle, with him locking the doors, blasting Phil Collins yelling at me. Driving erratically, dangerously. And I’d be so fucking scared of crashing. Just imagining the police report, “f19 dead alongside 43m after drunk reckless driving”. He’d speed in traffic so I couldn’t really jump out the car. I’d end up just drinking to numb the fear.
I had enough and attempted to sleepies forever by taking a sweet deadly cocktail of whatever handful of pills I could get my hands on. We had plastic gallon moving boxes filled with narcotics- he was a pharmacist too. I told him I was going to KMS he said go ahead, so I attempted and I filmed it.
From the setting up the phone in that closet, the one I color coordinated for him, his button-ups and suits in those dry-cleaning bags that hadn’t been opened since leaving the laundry shop… I watched my su!c!d€ afterwards. Out of morbid curiosity. “What a dumbass!” was what he said when he found me. I won’t go into detail of the full video but chest compressions hurt a lot, 10/10 would not recommend. And EMS left the AED stickers on my chest 🤷🏽‍♀️
After that 24hr watch, an awkward taxi drive to a crisis clinic that was understaffed and left me in a room by myself for two hours and walking in public with those see-through paper hospital clothes. Embarrassment is a light expression. When I was taken home, I didn’t have keys, or phone, or anything. Just my discharge papers and my cut vomit stained pajamas in a biohazard bag. - I lived in a gated neighborhood with key-fob-entry-only. I was fucked and waited what seemed like 4 hours for anyone to help me but no one showed up until HE did WITH MY BROTHER. The one who was threatened with a gun, that brother.
JFC the amount of insults, “what a fucking dumbass, what were you thinking? You’re a fucking idiot!” To summarize in the friendliest way. I was dressed in a see through hospital gown, I went straight to the shower, didn’t have the energy to get dressed when they kept just YELLING at me. INSULTING me- I had enough and wanted to defend myself. That’s when my brother pulled out his phone and started filming me pleading with them to let me sleep, calling me crazy, threatening to “show the family how fucking crazy you are!” - I threw my phone. Broke the microwave door. More insults, while still filming me, I was ordered to, “clean it up” - and at that moment. Completely detached, I did.
I put my brother on the soon-est bus to Mexico and sent him to rehab after 2 hell filled weeks of him living with us because he was so fucked in alcoholism he was homeless. To this day I don’t know how I did that.
I managed to leave my ex. 2 weeks later I receive calls from worried friends. Ryan was missing.
After investigating, (calls to police,hospitals, checking out the “usual” spots) - turns out he went to a Circle K looking for Peroni after the liquor store wouldn’t sell to him, tripped on the steps, hit his head on the pavement, STILL MANAGED TO PURCHASE ALCOHOL, left, got into a fight, and somehow miraculously ended up in his apartment where he tried to shower, fell face forward towards the water tap, (which left a softball sized bruise on his right eye and fractured his nose) he then tried to walk towards the kitchen? Passed out in the living room leaving blood all over the walls, puddles on the ground and the biggest blood clot stain on the floor ( we had to get crime scene cleaners). He apparently had a fit where he trashed the apartment by throwing my things, my plants, bottles of crown… anything. Everything was trashed when I found him in the apartment. I counted at LEAST 20 bottles of crown. He was so fucked up we thought he had been assaulted.
COVID hit and hospitals were in full lockdown. As an “essential worker” I could travel to the hospital to see him, and because someone somewhere said I was his wife/fiancée I was the ONLY one allowed to see him.
I snuck behind friends and family’s backs checking in on him at the hospital. Singing The Carpenters songs, wearing his favorite perfumes, reading Bill’s Story (IYKYK), playing Phil Collins. The whole 9 yards.
The last time I saw him, he was in Physical therapy/Rehab. He ended up moving back to his parents in California. Then February the next year, on Valentine’s Day - his mom let me know he passed.
She grieved very much attached to me. It was one of the saddest things I ever had to help someone through - alongside helping her son go through alcoholism.
I became a CNA as a tribute to helping him during those hard sober times where his body gave out. Helping others like that, bathing them, diaper changing, g-tube cleaning, hygiene essentials…
The classic grief started with what-if’s. Etc. it’s been hard lately because all my family is against him and his family resents me for being the only one with access to his medical records during COVID. I’m in a relationship now and our therapist told me to “put a break on it”. Recently. My mental illnesses keep getting worse and I feel like no other has taken such interest in me as much as Ryan did. He was so observant. So in-sync with me. And he was so shitty to me. He’s like the sweetest tasting radioactive flower that once was and will never be. And I’m grieving. And it’s so lonely out here.
I don’t know. I’m not suicid@l, I’m medicated and 4 years sober. It’s been hard and it’s getting harder to understand. I feel neglected and lonely. Anything helps please.

This is my last week on sema. I did 5 weeks at 0.25 and I’ve been on 0.5 for the last 4 weeks. I kept trying to “push through,” thinking my body might adjust at some point, but it’s just not worth it anymore. I’ve been so sick I haven’t been able to work. There are full weeks I’ve barely been able to get off of my sofa. The worst was during weeks 3-5, I had extreme vertigo. The prescription nausea medication couldn’t touch it. I was afraid to go on stairs and definitely couldn’t drive. The muscle weakness, joint pain, and extreme lack of energy has also been devastating. It feels like my mitochondria aren’t working anymore—I don’t know how else to explain what it has felt like.
I have searched and read all the posts and comments from others who struggled and what they did to manage the side effects. I increased my water substantially (I now drink 3 liters of water a day, sometimes more), I began drinking electrolytes and using electrolyte powder, I have prescription vitamin D and iron supplements, I take B vitamin supplements, and I take magnesium at night. I modified my diet many times—cutting out anything that could be making me sick. I tried testing my blood sugar and using glucose tablets to make sure I wasn’t becoming hypoglycemic. I tried upping and reducing caffeine intake.
Good GRIEF. I must be that tiny percent that just cannot function on this. I am not exaggerating when I say that this medication has made me feel like I am dying for the last two months.
Also… I’m still hungry and I eat through nausea. I have gained ten pounds because the only thing I can do is eat and lay in darkness.
I regret ever going on this stuff so much, but I know I would have been curious forever if I didn’t try it. Uhg.
Has anyone else struggled this much? I mean, seriously, to the point where you became completely nonfunctional? Did you go off of it or persist?
Thanks for reading

The water washed over the side of the boat and made a drizzle that clung to my face as I turned to wipe it away. The sea was too rough around the boat to see much, and the clouds had come right down to my level, blotting out what the sea had not. The ship was heading towards deeper water, and between the rain, the mist, and the boiling fog, the ever more distant coast was a blur.
The storm had brewed up late in the day and had taken it’s time to reach the fevered pitch it was displaying presently. The sea was rising so high, it would block the view to land, making it impossible to see what was happening ashore. I should have been asleep in my bunk moored in the harbor, but instead, at this late hour, the boat and I were fighting this storm for survival.
As each wave passed, my vessel would glide into the valley behind, the walls of water on all sides stretching vertically to merge with the sky. Just as soon as the previous wave receded, a new mountain of water would present itself directly, forcing the little boat to again climb high up a watery slope. The ship would crest, giving me a glimpse of the rough and tumble ocean scape ahead, just before diving down into another valley.
Even so, I was happy to brave the weather, as the alternative was unthinkable. If this poor little vessel were to be smashed on the rocks with only me and my salt water soaked clothes to survive, I would count myself lucky. Clinging to some slick, slime covered boulder until the storm passed and the sun came out the following morning. I would fare better than my fellow villagers who were caught unawares by this impromptu disturbance. Some of whom had surely been swallowed up in the mist.
When I was young, my family lived in a small coastal village on the north side of White Rock island. Our old, whitewashed house rested on a small rise just south of the harbor. If you stood in the living room and looked out north through the plate glass window, you could see the harbor stretch out into the ocean beyond.
Each of the various boats in the harbor had a faded splash of blue or red or yellow color around the pilot house. Some had flags fluttering in the breeze. Aside from the windowed superstructures, they were all the same shade of white, stained with rust, barnacles and other imperfections. Each ship was unique in it’s own way, but only subtly so. Viewing them from afar, it was hard to notice, as they all looked the same.
I never really left White Rock, unless you count the time I went off and joined the Navy to fight in the war. I was foolishly excited to join the Navy. I believed the propaganda posters plastered all over town. I had no idea the horrors I would experience as an Engineman on a destroyer cruising through enemy waters. But that is a different story for a different time.
I attended school on that island. There was a small population, hardly big enough to justify a school, but we were very isolated and it was more difficult to travel to and from the mainland to attend school. There was only a handful of students of all ages and we had classes together in a one room schoolhouse about a mile east of our home on the hill. All of those people I went to school with are also still here on the Rock.
When I returned from the war, the reception was warm. I soon caught up with old friends and settled into a routine. I was able to recruit a few of them to help my brothers and I crew the Schooner which had patiently waited the several years I was absent. She is a 45ft ketch with a main sail, a foresail and a jib to help with tacking. We can unfurl a fisherman’s sail high above the main in open waters to add some speed. We carry nets and crab pots amidships, along with a small tender up under the fly bridge. My ship also has a 200hp diesel motor used for trawling and harbor travel. There are two holds and fully loaded, she can carry a good 20,000 pounds of fish. We have only ever filled her up about halfway on a week long journey. My Brothers, my childhood friends, and I make a jolly crew, and I am mostly thankful for the time I spend with them.
My Father was a mechanic and he worked on many of the smaller fishing boats in the harbor. He never left the island much and we did not own a boat growing up. The old timers would sit around, outside his workshop, playing dominos and telling tall tales. If I was not busy with chores, I used to love to listen to the tales the grizzled old fishermen would tell me as my Father worked on their dilapidated boats.
There were some common themes to these tales, and it didn’t take me long to understand that they were mostly bluff and bluster. They would recite fairy tales about mermaids and deep sea monsters. They would talk about long lost islands that were shown on no maps. There were stories of buried treasure and lost civilizations. All good fun and light hearted, chuckles and good natured ribbing all the way around.
Then there were the stories about the mist. The old timers would hush up and become reticent when this topic was broached. They would look over their shoulder as if paranoid someone or something was watching. You could feel a shiver run down your spine just at the mention of the mist, The air grew heavier, all of the color draining out, becoming more pale and dense.
The mist, from the stories, was a thick gloom that would originate somewhere out in the water and slowly drift into town with the wind. On days when the mist would visit, you could see it forming miles out in the distance. Getting thicker as morning grew into midday. At some point in the early afternoon, the old timers would say, with a shift in the wind, that thick soupy darkness would start to creep towards the island.
This was a warning to all of the inhabitants to get indoors, batten down the windows and doors, and camp out in the cellar until dawn. The mist can see as if it has eyes, they would say. The mist could hear you breathe, as if it had ears, they would say. The mist could pick you up and take you away, as if it had hands, they would say. And to speak, yes, the mist could speak as if it had a voice. The mist could convince you to leave the safety of your home and go on a journey. The mist could trick you into thinking a small child was outside and needed help. “Help me” the mist would sigh. “I am soaking wet and I am only 5, please let me in so I can get warm. It’s so cold out here…”
As entertaining as these stories were when I was a kid, they were just that, stories. Time passed, people came and went. The old timers faded away along with their boats. As I grew older, I was more and more concerned with ever more adult things and stories of spirits and water sprites were trivial. Fairy stories and tall tales didn’t pay the bills and I had a life to live.
My Father died in an accident when I was only 15. He was working on a trawler that had run aground just south of the entrance to the bay. The engine had failed and the boat had drifted into the rocks. My father was aboard when there was an explosion. He was burned over most of his body. We would visit him daily at the doctors house where he lay, suffering, in a delirium. He lingered for the better part of a year before passing on.
My Mother was devastated and she was never the same. We moved out of that old white house into another owned by my Uncle. I felt like I had to provide for her and my younger brothers. I soon found myself working as a hand on my uncle’s fishing boat. I learned the way of the sea, and would spend more and more time offshore. Each time I returned, I found that my Mother had grown more distant. She was spending more and more time with my Father in the great beyond and didn’t have as much to give to the real world. She was surrendered to a fantasy and soon she was unable to return to reality. Some call it dementia. When she passed, I was alone with my Uncle and my Brothers.
As a crew, and as a family, we had some great adventures. We travelled far and wide. We visited many a strange port and I held company with many a beautiful lass. We crewed my uncles boat, the Majestic Spirit, until he was too old for the work. When he decided to retire, he gave his boat to me. Now my Brothers, my friends and I ably vie the sea, aboard the Maj, in search of fame and fortune.
All this so I can describe to you my current predicament. You see, this morning started off like normal. After waking and eating my breakfast, I had strolled down to the docks to get an early start on some maintenance to the Maj. I had been putting it off for the last week. We had a long cruise coming up, planning to sail to the South Onda Straits, and I wanted to repair the fore hatch coaming before we set out.
As I descended the hill to White Rock Harbor, I noticed a dark gloominess miles off in the distance. Remembering the old stories made me feel uneasy. I told myself to ignore those old fairy tales and focus on the task at hand. I put my head down and walked faster.
As I arrived at the Maj, I noticed the gloom was thicker now. It was visibly rolling and changing color from gray to black and all shades in between. There were faint flashes of light from deep within. “Is that lightning?” I asked myself. Apparently I had spoken aloud as another fisherman, Phillip O’Perry, who owned the adjacent trawler, had overheard me as he jumped down onto the docks from the deck of his boat. “It’s the mist a’formin.” He said as he walked away. “I, for one, plan on getting drunk on Rum this ‘even…locked away in my cellar with wife and babes. I suggest you do the same.”
I hadn’t felt that chill since I was young. “Don’t be silly Phil!” I yelled back. “Fairy tales and sea shanties are fun, but they don’t put food on the table.” “Suit yerself” he said over his shoulder as he rounded the corner. “You’ll have a new story to tell either way tomorrow”. “if you live.” This last he added while sticking his head back around the corner he had just passed. A devious grin from ear to ear on his face, he said“Good luck to ya!” and then he was gone.
The white rock saved me.
Part 2 to follow soon! :D

Too long, didn't read version: With the shocking amount of bugs in the game, there are a series of problems when it comes to balancing the game when a lot of systems might not be functioning as intended, and looking at patch notes history, you can easily come to the same conclusion I have. This needs to be addressed, but doing so has some problems us consumers might not be privy not to.
Too long, DID read version:
Balance is a hotly-debated topic on the subreddit, but most of it boils down to "X needs Y in order to Z" or any other derivative of that argument. An example would be, say, "The Liberator needs 5 more damage in order to compete with the Sickle" or "Civilian extraction missions for bots are stupidly difficult and need to be toned down", and arguments like that are fine, but a pressing issue for me is that the game has so many unintended bugs that it is almost impossible to truly gauge what system needs change simply because we don't know what the developers are intending, nor do we know what is bugged.
So, I began to review the patch notes up to today to try to find some examples, and I'd like to point out my findings.
- Patch 1.000.200 -

• The Helldiver and the Exosuit both had a bug that made them sometimes take explosion damage multiple times making things like automaton rockets be too deadly, this is now fixed.

This is the main thing that got me into thinking about game bugs ruining any sense of balance in HELLDIVERS. People rightfully complained for a while that bots were unfun to fight because a rocket would commonly oneshot a player, and it was due to a bug in damage calculation. This had a knockon effect with Shrieker bodies previously oneshotting a player if they were hit by the Shrieker body, which was fixed in the same patch.

• Arc Thrower: fixed charging inconsistencies; it will now always take 1s to charge a shot.

The game had been out for almost 2 months by this point, and the "inconsistent" charge rate of the arc thrower felt more like a feature than bug for a lot of players. For those not aware, the Arc Thrower used to be able to fire rapidly after the initial charge (~ .5 second charge needed instead of the full 1 second in the patch).
"Inconsistency" in weapon performance is also responsible for a handful of changes to weapons: the Railgun was famously nerfed in Patch 1.000.100 just before Charger head durability was nerfed and rocket penetration was normalized in Patch 1.000.102, and the PC to PS5 damage bug was fixed in Patch 1.000.203, as an example.

• Moved the enemy spawn points further away from the objective to give players a fairer chance of defending the location.
• There are fewer civilians required to complete the mission on higher difficulties.

So far, this has been the final nerf to the difficulty of the "Retrieve Essential Personnel" mission, and it's downright laughable. If anything, it pushed back Automaton dropship spawns ~15m from their previous drop points but did nothing to the breakneck pace the dropships come in at, which is where the main complaint comes from players.
Players get around this by having 1 player stealth the objective while 3 cause a bunch of noise elsewhere, but that's unreliable at best. From personal testing, enemy spawns are centered on the player and not the objective, so once the stealth player gets unlucky with a 25% chance for the enemy spawn to select them, the bots/bugs will spawn on top of them as normal. I've heard that developers have commented on the ludicrous spawnrates on the Discord and that they'll be adjusted, but getting information from Discord might as well be torture.

• Fire damage per tick increased by 50% (from all sources).

An attempt to make damage-over-time weapons more palatable (which at the time were not even working), but led to the dreaded Hulk Scorcher instakilling divers. This was partially fixed in later patches, but Hulk Scorchers can still instakill via headshots.
- Patch 1.000.300 -

• Patrol spawning has been increased when there are fewer than 4 players. The fewer the players the bigger the change. For 4 player missions there will be no change compared to before.The biggest noticeable change will be for solo players at higher difficulties

Once again, by the time this change was made, no word was said about the size of patrols in >4 player groups, but the design director stated that the scaling was "unintended" to be exponential instead of linear, and changed patrols to be much more punishing for >4 player groups. This, thankfully, was changed back as confirmed by Twinbeard.

• Airburst Rocket Launcher will no longer detonate when shot near stratagems (HMG turret, Sentries, Resupplies) and other Helldivers.

On release, the Airburst was a meme, let's not beat around the bush, and Arrowhead agreed by reducing the amount of entities that would spark the fuze to the warhead. Until Patch 1.000.304, where they added back the ability for the warhead to fuze off of Helldivers. It's easy to say the most up-to-date patch is the "truest", but it begs the question of which way are Arrowhead trying to design the Airburst if they changed their mind in 2 weeks?
- Patch 1.000.100 -

• Exosuits The combat walker has arrived, hot off the factory lines on Tien Kwan!

The Patriot has been in a sad state ever since launch. It suffered from a bug that if the user were to fire a missile while rotating right, the user would explode. In Patch 1.000.103, the Patriot was "fixed" by restricting the missile launcher elevation controls and making the sight wildly inaccurate, and then was further gutted in Patch 1.000.200 that any launched Patriot missiles need to be a direct hit to penetrate armor; a restriction that was removed for the EAT and RR in Patch 1.000.10. Following Patch 1.000.200, it's been complete radio silence if this is the final iteration.
There are more examples, but these are the main examples I want to put forward without risking overflowing a reddit post. Bug fixed are a low priority for a live-service game (because fixing a bug doesn't drive engagement like a shiny new weapon does), but each day that goes by just makes me wonder what else could be "unintended" and will be fixed. My money's on the RR animation cancel.

Hey there!
like the title says I'm looking for my best friend, someone I can vibe with and talk to about anything never feeling judged or uncomfortable about it. someone I can watch movies with, joke around with go get some amazing food with and just genuinely enjoy our time together!
Honestly I would love for it to blossom into something romantic at some point however I want there to be a strong connection and friendship first and foremost.
You're probably wondering a bit about me so here's some quick info - I am a father to a beautiful 4 year old girl, I have a stable job and work from home, I have my own place too! I like to play PC games (wow, league, apex, POE to name a few), I love to cook and miss having someone to cook for, I love all animals and recently really got into fish keeping. as for movies I usually tend to watch comedies or thrillers as my main go-tos but happy to watch anything with the right person. as you can probably tell I'm a bit of a nerd which is very true so almost anything nerdy I'll probably like haha.
Physically I'm 6ft tall, and on the chubbier side of a dad body and while I do embrace the dad bod, as I am a dad, I am working on that by going to the gym and trying to live a healthier lifestyle as I want to stay active to keep up with my kiddo.
If this has peaked your interests and you'd like to talk more, please feel free to shoot me a message on here and I'll get back to you as fast as I can. Maybe start by letting me know the last thing that made you smile, and why? :)

This mantra has CHANGED my fitness game during pregnancy. As an athlete who was training for a comeback in my sport(shoutout to my rugby mamas) I found working out demoralizing and frustrating. I was tired most of my first trimester and when I did go to the go to the gym I felt like I got nothing accomplished. It has also been a hard transition on the changes within my body.
But after a long conversation with my husband and best friend (mostly crying) I realized I needed to switch my perspective. I needed to lower my expectations when going to the gym and just move my body in a way that felt good that day. This is not the time for me to gain strength or speed. It’s my era for growing a human. That has helped me in the last several weeks to be confident and happy when I can workout.
I wanted to share in case there’s anyone else who is struggling with the transition between being a competitive athlete to slowing down with pregnancy.

In my opinion, Telegram is the best platform for building and finding communities, and it’s criminally underused for this purpose. Unlike other social media platforms, Telegram gives you the freedom to join groups and channels without being bombarded by ads and irrelevant content. With tools like Teleteg, you can easily search for groups, channels, and even specific members that match your interests. This makes it incredibly easy to build and engage with communities that matter to you. The precision and efficiency of these tools should definitely be more widely recognized and utilized.
By the way, if you're curious about how to find these communities, you might find this site useful.
These revisions include the link in a way that is informative and relevant to the discussion, minimizing the promotional feel.

Hi, I’ve looked up some symptoms i’ve been having and I try not to “diagnose “ myself via google cuz obviously that’s not helpful. But sometimes (most days) i’ll go hours feeling like I’m living third person or outside my body. Especially when driving, i’ll feel like i almost can’t control my actions and am moving in slow motion. I even feel high like i’m on drugs when this happens. Along with this I’ll get extreme numbness and tingling in my hands and legs to the point where it feels like my hands are vibrating. It’s exhausting.. and i don’t feel normal. it’s been affecting me heavily bc i just want to feel normal. I just want to have a normal brain. I’ve had extreme anxiety since childhood but this is something new that I’ve been going through… (not my typical anxiety symptoms)
Idk what to do.. i feel like I’m going insane sometimes ..i’m just tired

I have a crush on the guy in my uni. We are basically strangers because we haven't talked to each other. I have just seen him quite a lot of time. I know it will be weird to have a crush on someone just by seeing them every day (not really). I want you all to be honest and choose these polls. And help me make my delusions dieee.
We had eye contact with each other, but they all are short-lived, like for 1 or 2 secs hardly. The recent eye contact I had with him was funny because I saw him and he saw me too but we both looked away quickly.
When I was walking with my friends, he didn't even look at me. There is one more where I thought he was approaching me... because he stood near my table in the library and stared at me a second. And later left. For your information, he was finding something in his pockets, so my delusional mind got feedings.
Once, I did talk to him, but the funny thing was he was sitting behind me, and I had to call someone standing at his table in the library. So I asked him to call the person... and he did help me as a kind human.
I honestly feel that he doesn't have feelings for me because he seems really reserved. Has 1 or 2 friends, doesn't talk much. He also got that gym body... unlike me.
View Poll

If you know what pica is, then you know that many of us love to eat clay, rocks, dirt, charcoal, and things of that nature. I personally happen to like dry, earthy, and crunchy things. I grew up in the Californian desert so I’ve always had a great selection of rocks and minerals to snack on, I’ve learned a lot about different minerals and how to “cure them” by storing them in paper or cardboard containers (never plastic) so they’d retain a clean earthy flavor etc.
Anyway, as an adult my career has allowed me to travel the world extensively for the past decade, and so I’ve been forced to take my addiction on the road as well. I’ve had dirt and rocks in over 70 countries and some of my favorites include the white clay-dirt on the coastline of Omiš, Croatia, as well as the sand in Sealine desert of Doha, Quatar.
The most interesting I’ve tasted was when I lived in Cairo. For me, selecting dirt and rocks to eat is an art form, as I’m actually very OCD and won’t just pick things up off the ground or in public spaces and eat them. I’ll find quarry’s and dunes and sites far from human traffic and try to select the most “untouched” pieces i can find.
In this case, I was behaving much like a tourist and took a tour of all of the tombs and museums and pyramids, traveling by camelback. One of my final stops was the Sphinx and the great pyramids. Legally you’re not actually allowed to touch the pyramids or get too close but… I wasn’t having that.
It just looked sooooo dusty (read:tasty) and I couldn’t resist running right up to the far side of one of the pyramids (out of sight of the police and tour guides) and grabbing handfuls of rocks and dirt and shoving them into the pockets of my cargo pants. I didn’t grab anything from ground level though. I actually climbed up a few levels to areas far out of public reach before I started pocketing anything.
I waited until I was home before I tried it and lord it was so good! The rocks were hard and dusty but could be nibbled and turned slightly softer like clay once wet. They smelled earthy and fresh once the scrubbed the outer layers off. At the time, I hadn’t tried anything like it so the memory of the taste has stuck with me for years at this point. As old as the pyramids are, a part of me wondered if I’d feel sick or weird afterward but I was totally fine.
That was in 2018.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago, I was road-tripping through the Arizona desert and stopped to collect some rocks from the side of a rock outcropping. As I’m sampling the different tastes and textures I realize it’s familiar and my mind immediately flashed back to the pyramids— Limestone!!! And not just any limestone, for some reason those rocks from Arizona had that same weathered flavor as the Pyramids did (not all limestone tastes the same) and my heart did little black flips once I realized where I knew it from.
I know this story is probably boring and irrelevant to most, but for me it’s something I like to chuckle to myself about.
I mean how many people can say they ate one of the Seven Wonders of the World? 😬🤣

TLDR at the end
F28 with Ovarian Cancer I am really struggling with medical negligence not just from one doctor, but multiple. Just an FYI this is a long post about my overall experience since getting diagnosed with cancer and learning I have an underlying autoimmune disorder(s). I’ve been dealing with a lot of discrimination because I’m young and “healthy looking” and doctors constantly dismiss me or discriminate me for some reason and I’m tired of it. I’ve been sick and disabled since last November and I had a great job and was running my own business but lost everything because of negligent doctors and cancer.
I originally posted this on legaladvice because I thought maybe I had a case but at this point I don’t even know if I have a case or not and I’m starting to just accept that this is how this shitty system works. Anyways I thought I’d at least share my experiences with the medical field in the US specifically in LA California. I imagine I’m not the only person who has gone through this and that many people who are struggling with disabilities face these kind of obstacles when navigating the healthcare system here. I’ve had to learn how to advocate for myself and I only hope that my post and experience helps those struggling with their health.
In order for me to advocate for myself I’ve had to basically become just as knowledgeable about my condition(s) to get the proper care. I’ve had to fight for my diagnosis and proper treatment and had I not been looking up my symptoms, possible diagnosis, lab work results, I may have died or came to the verge of it had I fully trusted any of the doctors I’ve come into contact with. Always do your own research using trusted resources and have someone with you who can help advocate for you when you can’t advocate for yourself. Not only am I dismissed for being a female but also for being young and healthy looking despite having serious debilitating symptoms.
For two years I was seeing a rheumatologist for an underlying autoimmune disorder(s) like SLE OR MS and was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis, Primary immunodeficiency, dysautonomia, fibromyalgia, CIDP and still being investigated for more issues.
In November I decided to go on a LOA because my flares were starting to become more frequent and severe. My psychiatrist was the one who filled out the LOA paperwork for the time from Nov-Dec because I was hesitant to ask my Rheumatologist. I was told by my rheumatologists office that filling out LOA paperwork was $300 out of pocket and at the time I didn’t have that money so my psychiatrist signed it because I was also struggling with my mental health and family issues that time.
I was supposed to go back to work in January but at the start of the new year I got really sick and my flares started to ramp up again so I had to request a new LOA. My psychiatrist couldn’t help me with my LOA paperwork anymore because it was more health related now and told me to go see my rheumatologist. I was still hesitant because of the fee and then when I was about to see my rheumatologist again and get my bloodwork done I got a surprise bill from the lab where I get my bloodwork done for $400 after insurance. They wouldn’t let me get additional tests until I paid the fee and I couldn’t see my rheumatologist until I had my bloodwork done. I made an appointment with my rheumatologist anyways but the soonest I could get wasn’t until after the LOA deadline in March. I also couldn’t get any disability benefits until that LOA form was filled out by my doctor so I had no income to pay for any of this.
I ended up in the Emergency Room on 2/16/24 a little over a week before I needed to submit the forms for LOA and at this point my employer was threatening to fire me for failing to provide the LOA paperwork. I tried explaining the situation to one of my managers but he wasn’t having it and didn’t care.
When I went to the first emergency room I went in for multiple serious symptoms, they knew I had an underlying autoimmune disorder causing the flares and that I had surgery 3 years prior to remove ovarian cysts on my right ovary. I told the emergency room that I had a lot of abdominal pain across multiple areas, I was really weak, fatigued, dealing with vertigo, migraines, blood in stool, persistent bloating, frequent urination, appetite loss, rapid weight gain, insomnia, tachycardia, high bp, neuropathic itch/ polyneuropathy and my symptoms were to the point where I was losing my ability to walk. My partner was holding me the entire time so I wouldn’t fall.
The emergency room did a bunch of tests that included a basic blood panel, physical exam and a CT scan of my abdomen. They didn’t find the bleeding but instead found that I had a complex 14cm tumor on my right ovary which they deemed a dermoid cyst.
When they gave me the news they officially diagnosed me with a “dermoid cyst from birth” even though I countered their diagnosis and told them that was impossible because I had surgery 3 years prior. The doctor didn’t backtrack at all, just stuttered and continued to discharge me because it “wasn’t an emergency” just because I wasn’t bleeding out despite all of my serious progressing symptoms.
I angrily left the ER knowing it was utter BS and deep down I knew it was cancer because of how sick I was. I could literally feel I didn’t have much time but because I looked young and healthy and my basic blood panel didn’t throw up any huge red flags at them even they dismissed me and misdiagnosed me. I wasn’t even given anything to manage the pain.
I even told them I was already on a medical leave and that I’ve been really sick but that it was getting bad and I couldn’t see my rheumatologist. However I didn’t know about the tumor until then. I told them I needed help with the LOA paperwork too and had they admitted me I would have been able to get an extension and still have my job and benefits. I could have started treatment sooner and received disability pay but instead was forced to continue living with this pain. It was so large that I was at risk of torsion rupture and necrosis, Not to mention permanent nerve damage.
The next day I called up every gynecologist I could to see where I could go for the soonest appointment for an ultrasound. I found a doctor who took me as an emergency appointment a few days later and he confirmed it was most likely malignant and that I needed surgery ASAP. I talked to him about my LOA situation too because I was running out of time and I was too disabled to work. He also refused to help me sign my LOA paperwork because according to him, “ovarian cancer can’t cause systemic symptoms and you’re going to need to wait until surgery before I put you on leave”. I told him I had an underlying autoimmune disorder that I think is being exasperated by the cancer and I was just dismissed yet again despite needing someone to physically help me walk so I don’t fall. He also didn’t give me anything for the pain I was in.
I had to turn in my LOA that day but because of this I was forced to resign my position or face getting fired and becoming un-hirable so I had to quit. In quitting I lost everything, benefits, stocks, my job, my health, doctors. I’m now in debt with multiple cc going to collections because I haven’t been getting an income since January and I’m just starting chemo so I have no idea when I’ll be able to work again. I don’t know what to do here. I was going to try to settle my debt but with what money?? I might be forced into bankruptcy for 7 years now.
After I lost my insurance I applied for medi-cal but something with my application in there system wasn’t right and it was in a never ending pending limbo state(Took about two months to actually sort it out and I only sorted it out that quickly because my friend works for medi-cal). I tried waiting it out for two weeks, calling them sorting it out and doing it right by the system but every day I was getting sicker and weaker and I felt I was running out of time as I was bed ridden at this point.
Two weeks later I went to a different ER because at this point I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat and I started getting migraines after doing anything. I was miserable from enduring all the symptoms and never ending anxiety and mood swings of possibly having an autoimmune disorder like SLE, MS and ovarian cancer.
The second ER I went to finally admit me for emergency surgery after a full day of being in the emergency room and they confirmed it was in fact a tumor. It also grew to 20cm by that point. By this time the tumor had already ruptured and twisted my ovary. The entire time I was there though it was a battle. I had been living with this for so long that I was perceiving my pain as a 6 when in reality I had nerve damage and the pain was likely higher. I seemed calm at first but anytime someone came in trying to tell me I was fine I couldn’t hold it together and would start crying because I was at my breaking point. I was suffering and no one was taking me seriously. I had to make it a point that because of the misdiagnosis from the last hospital, I lost everything and was in a position where I couldn’t get any care because of the issue I was having with my medi-cal application. It would’ve been months before I found a PCP, got referred to specialists, confirmed it was cancer, and scheduled a surgery. At one point during my time in the emergency room, the head of the ER came to me and literally told me, “I want to help you but you’re going to have to SELL it to me”. After that I kept having to tell them that my pain was like an 8-10 and that the pain meds weren’t working. They put me on gabapentin which didn’t really do anything for me actually. But then they started giving me morphine and while it helped tremendously I also found out that day that I either have an allergy or a sensitivity to morphine.
Anyways now to my current situation. I started chemo about two weeks ago and my current oncologist is also being negligent.
I found out the other day that she blindly prescribed a medication for nausea that interacts with a medication that I was already on. The interaction is known to cause arrhythmias apparently. During my first week of chemo I was taking both meds and mentioned that my chest had been feeling heavy and I had pain. I was told it was steroids. It continued and then one night as I was falling asleep my heart started to pound really hard for about 10-15 seconds. I told my doctor about it and again steroids.
That same day I went to pick up a prescription and just happened to ask if anything interacted and that’s when I found out that it was a major interaction and I literally could have died had I not luckily already been titrating off of the offending medicine. I stopped taking those meds and immediately the chest pain stopped and I haven’t had an episode like that since.
I am freaked out and don’t want to continue my care with her due to her negligence. This should have been a conversation at minimum and she didn’t even tell me she prescribed it let alone double check for interactions(she had the list of my current medications). I just got a notification from my pharmacy that it was ready. I also didn’t know about the interaction when it was picked up because my mom picked it up for me and she doesn’t speak English very well.
I talked to my care teams assistant and told her I wanted a change of doctors because I didn’t trust her after this and she said she was going to put in the request. They called me yesterday though and said they weren’t going to switch me because I had already started treatment. They refused to switch my doctors despite everything that’s happened even though she literally almost accidentally killed me. I am livid and don’t want to continue with them but they’re giving me no choice but to continue seeing her.
I already set up an appointment for a second opinion but that’s not for another two weeks before the appointment and I don’t want to interrupt the treatment.
I have a rare type of ovarian cancer with a high grade tumor. It was a germ cell tumor called an immature teratoma. They said it is stage 1 but because I had emergency surgery, the tumor had already ruptured, and everything was rushed I don’t feel this is an accurate diagnosis because I have pain in all of the surrounding areas where the tumor was pushing up against. (I also mentioned this to my oncologist but instead of running tests or anything else I was given a psych referral for anxiety because I have an adhd & bipolar diagnosis even though I’ve been stable for years and I wasn’t overreacting in this case). The tumor was exasperating all of my autoimmune symptoms and causing me to be in a never ending flare so my body has been heavily damaged. Im becoming disabled at 28. I have so much anxiety with doctors now because I’m traumatized from my experience with them dismissing me and discriminating against me. Like I’m young so I “must be able to tolerate more”. I have to constantly look up my lab results, medications, conditions, because of how much negligence and dismissal I’ve been dealing with over the years. I’m scared I’m going to die from something preventable and not cancer at this rate.
TLDR: F28 w/ ovarian cancer and pre-existing autoimmune disorders struggling to get care, proper diagnosis, treatment, negligence by multiple doctors, losing everything. US health care system is incredibly difficult to navigate and we need to constantly advocate for ourselves to get proper care in this for profit healthcare system.

I have an established place in my campaign that serves as a middle point for the party to rest and RP on their way from X to Y place. All it is is a wide open field with a large pond to the Southwest that is actually a groundswell from an underground river pushing up to the surface, that pond then feeds as a creek to an actual river that leads the ocean. Thus far in my campaign this has been a safe place for the players to hunker down. This is likely the last time my party will go through this area so I'd like it to be a memorable combat encounter.
The idea here is that I will have them Crest the hill that leads to this little valley where the pond is, I describe it as I normally have in the past but with the exception of a fairly good looking man standing in that pond fishing and singing softly to himself. See "O Brother, where art thou?"
Party starts interacting with him, he hits them with...https://youtu.be/ul-61r7DMz4?si=PCHxXKG8eWcdQ-ib
Roll vs charmed.
My question here is what are some critters that I can pair with this male siren that would be context appropriate to pump up the CR for this encounter. My party is level nine and from what I understand a siren is only a CR 6. Perhaps some kind of dog? Murder of Crows?
Once the party kills him they'll find that he's drowned quite a few people in this pond and their bodies are just beneath the surface. Gold and trinkets to be found. Nature checks will obviously yield that the creature walked from the coast up the line of the river to this pond to find new prey.
What do you think?