See threw jailbate

Throw away account because why not?
When we first started dating he loved bombed me with gifts and ALOT of letters that would say things such as I've never felt this way before, and you're amazing, and I could see this going forever, and I never knew how possessive I was till I met you. We only dated a little under 3 months at this point; I decided it would be best for us to go on a break because he wasn't following my boundaries with the love bombing and it seemed like he needed time to build up his self. We went on the break for a week during which he went on this dating app for teens and told me that it was fine he was only on there for fun. I told him at the end of the week that "I didn't think I wanted to keep dating:" and he just replied with "k". which left me feeling like I didn't get closure but I ignored that and would talk shit about the relationship with my friends (we dated in the friend group so we had the same friends (side note: they felt like he distanced himself from them when we started dating and he would get jealous when I'd make flirting jokes with them which we always made; this caused some people in the friend group to feel some type of way about him)) But I would still tell my friends not to be too harsh and give him the benefit of the doubt, and then when my friend Mike brought up that my ex had been avoiding me, him, and Danelle; my ex got upset and brought up something that made me uncomfortable. So I got pissed and didn't talk to him for like a month and a half because I was like you lashed out at me for no reason, and was aggressive towards him when I did; I thought that there was no way he wouldn't have known what he said would make me uncomfortable since every time it was brought up I talked about how it made me sad. After this though for some unknown reason, I felt like I needed him back (p.s i mentioned the teen dating app because he ended up dating some guy on there 2 weeks after we broke up). So I ended up texting him and in the text, I apologized for everything in the relationship even the stuff I didn't think I did, and told him Id like to be friends again and he said he was sorry that something he said would hurt me and that he truly didn't know it made me sad or that I would be offended and we were on good terms again. I called my friend crying cause I didn't know how I felt about my choice and my brain was saying I didn't want him back but my heart was saying I needed him. Fast forward and we are on good terms but don't talk much, later I am out of school for weeks because I get really bad depression from being heavily overwhelmed and find that a game is my safe space because I can stay home and never see the public while still feeling like I'm interacting with something. My ex is really into the game so he joined my game we have a lot of fun and it is my first human interaction in 2-3 weeks. We stayed on call playing the game for 17 hours straight that night and it became a habit for us to have all-night calls, I started feeling like he was the only one who truly got me because he understood and related to a lot of the things I was dealing with and thinking about in my depression and we start to flirt like we did when we first were dating. Finally, I returned to school and saw my other friends and unintentionally did not talk to him as much because I realized how much I missed my other friends we don't have classes together so I only saw him once during passing that day anyway. Once I got home I got on a call with my friend Danelle and she's like see you didn't need "EX" to be in public, and I was like huh I didn't realize that but I don't wanna bet on it. After this moment "EX" gets a little more distant but it's not noticeable so I don't really care, but then I go through his tik tok, and I knew at this point that he had a crush on a different girl earlier in the month, but I didn't realize that he had written paragraphs and made tik toks about how down bad he was for her just 20 days ago. This was a red flag for me since I don't see how he could've gotten over her in 20 days and I don't wanna be his second option just because she won't date him. I end up bringing it up to him casually saying oh I saw your tik tok you should go for her. And he said "Who? Sam?" and I said yes, and he said I told u before there wasn't a spark so we are just friends now. And I said how do u move on in 20 days and he said what TikTok are u talking about? So I sent it to him and he said he couldn't see it, so I was explaining where it was and he said it was probably deleted refresh your page, and I said how was it deleted if I'm looking at it? and he said refresh your page it must have been recently deleted, I said but then he wouldn't be able to see which one I'm talking about. And then he said refresh your page I just deleted it. Which threw me off because I was thinking why did you delete it? and why did you try to act like I was crazy for seeing it as if it had always been deleted? so then he ends up saying that he was 70% moved on and 20% not. So from that moment on he would not get on a call with the rest of us, at first, I was like oh it's okay; he missed the call, then I was like maybe he doesn't see the call notification so let me send a text so he'll know, and then I got so desperate that I was about to @ him when my friend Danelle got on the call and distracted me. It was hard for me because I feel like I need him in my life and to go from calling every day to never really made me desperate for him to get on a call and we go back to how it was when I was depressed. He finally got on call last night and although we stayed up a little late he was distant and not as talkative or giggly as he used to be. also after the talk about Sam, he stopped saying goodnight and sweet dreams when we got off the call and would only say gn. What are your thoughts on this, on one hand, I wanna be like fuck him I don't wanna be his second choice. And on the other hand, I really wanna go back to flirting with him and date him.
But I do feel guilty because he says that he felt like he couldn't tell our friends about our relationship. After all, the majority sided with me whenever we would have issues, so I feel bad that he didn't think he had support during the relationship. Also, decisions for me were hard in the relationship because he would give me his opinion and I'd wanna go with that and then my friends and family would say a different opinion and I would want to go with that; so I never felt like I got to make my own decision without worrying about other peoples opinions
Timeline (dated until December) (No talking until around February) (Started the late-night calls in early May)

i brought 3,000 grand to casino and went back in fourth all night and was down 2,000 and downed a good amount of drinks and my friends were ready to get going but weren't being dicks and would of stayed later. They lost all there money. Well i always wanted to bet a large hand on blackjack and this was chance. I had 1,000 left and i left my atm card as usual when i gamble at home. So decided i would bet 800 so i had money left to go to the bars. I figured if i had a great chance to double i didn't have to but could double for less etc. Everyone thought great idea and even went to high roller table, waited for fresh shoot and told the fellow players who were betting even more then me and they didn't seem to mind me playing the 1 hand of first deck. I think some of you realize what's going to happen. Dealer gets a 6 and i get a 8 everything is great right? Then i get another 8. I crap because i had no way of splitting because i don't have enough money. I have to stay, dealer had 16 hits 3, has 19 table loses. I don't know why but when i lose i threw hand up and everyone's sees my cards. Lots of comments how they would have given me the money etc even the dealer throws some shade. As bad as that was and it was bad that's not even the worst moment i've had in a casino but that's for another day if i ever have the courage to share! lol

A PREFACE: This is an essay written by former commissioner of Major League Baseball, A. Bartlett Giamatti, and it is something I always read following the conclusion of one of my team’s (across various sports) seasons, and I’d like to introduce it to all of you, in hopes that some of you may pick up this tradition for yourselves.
I find it’s a good way for me to appreciate and reflect on the experience of following a team over an entire season and beyond, and more broadly to examine why, despite the inherent futility in wrapping up so much of our emotional well-being in something we ultimately can’t control, we do precisely that anyway.
I will post the essay in its entirety here. Even though it was originally written about baseball, I believe the underlying themes can apply to any sport. Since it is a bit lengthy, I’ve highlighted the three most important and universally-applicable paragraphs. Despite this, I encourage you all to read the whole thing. Even if not for its own sake, at least do it in order to properly give those three paragraphs their intended rhetorical and emotional weight.
Without further ado…
"The Green Fields of the Mind”
”It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. Today, October 2, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone.
“Somehow, the summer seemed to slip by faster this time. Maybe it wasn't this summer, but all the summers that, in this my fortieth summer, slipped by so fast. There comes a time when every summer will have something of autumn about it. Whatever the reason, it seemed to me that I was investing more and more in baseball, making the game do more of the work that keeps time fat and slow and lazy. I was counting on the game's deep patterns, three strikes, three outs, three times three innings, and its deepest impulse, to go out and back, to leave and to return home, to set the order of the day and to organize the daylight. I wrote a few things this last summer, this summer that did not last, nothing grand but some things, and yet that work was just camouflage. The real activity was done with the radio--not the all-seeing, all-falsifying television--and was the playing of the game in the only place it will last, the enclosed green field of the mind. There, in that warm, bright place, what the old poet called Mutability does not so quickly come.”
“But out here, on Sunday, October 2, where it rains all day, Dame Mutability never loses. She was in the crowd at Fenway yesterday, a gray day full of bluster and contradiction, when the Red Sox came up in the last of the ninth trailing Baltimore 8-5, while the Yankees, rain-delayed against Detroit, only needing to win one or have Boston lose one to win it all, sat in New York washing down cold cuts with beer and watching the Boston game. Boston had won two, the Yankees had lost two, and suddenly it seemed as if the whole season might go to the last day, or beyond, except here was Boston losing 8-5, while New York sat in its family room and put its feet up. Lynn, both ankles hurting now as they had in July, hits a single down the right-field line. The crowd stirs. It is on its feet. Hobson, third baseman, former Bear Bryant quarterback, strong, quiet, over 100 RBIs, goes for three breaking balls and is out. The goddess smiles and encourages her agent, a canny journeyman named Nelson Briles.
“Now comes a pinch hitter, Bernie Carbo, onetime Rookie of the Year, erratic, quick, a shade too handsome, so laid-back he is always, in his soul, stretched out in the tall grass, one arm under his head, watching the clouds and laughing; now he looks over some low stuff unworthy of him and then, uncoiling, sends one out, straight on a rising line, over the center-field wall, no cheap Fenway shot, but all of it, the physics as elegant as the arc the ball describes.
“New England is on its feet, roaring. The summer will not pass. Roaring, they recall the evening, late and cold, in 1975, the sixth game of the World Series, perhaps the greatest baseball game played in the last fifty years, when Carbo, loose and easy, had uncoiled to tie the game that Fisk would win. It is 8-7, one out, and school will never start, rain will never come, sun will warm the back of your neck forever. Now Bailey, picked up from the National League recently, big arms, heavy gut, experienced, new to the league and the club; he fouls off two and then, checking, tentative, a big man off balance, he pops a soft liner to the first baseman. It is suddenly darker and later, and the announcer doing the game coast to coast, a New Yorker who works for a New York television station, sounds relieved. His little world, well-lit, hot-combed, split-second-timed, had no capacity to absorb this much gritty, grainy, contrary reality.
“Cox swings a bat, stretches his long arms, bends his back, the rookie from Pawtucket who broke in two weeks earlier with a record six straight hits, the kid drafted ahead of Fred Lynn, rangy, smooth, cool. The count runs two and two, Briles is cagey, nothing too good, and Cox swings, the ball beginning toward the mound and then, in a jaunty, wayward dance, skipping past Briles, feinting to the right, skimming the last of the grass, finding the dirt, moving now like some small, purposeful marine creature negotiating the green deep, easily avoiding the jagged rock of second base, traveling steady and straight now out into the dark, silent recesses of center field.
“The aisles are jammed, the place is on its feet, the wrappers, the programs, the Coke cups and peanut shells, the doctrines of an afternoon; the anxieties, the things that have to be done tomorrow, the regrets about yesterday, the accumulation of a summer: all forgotten, while hope, the anchor, bites and takes hold where a moment before it seemed we would be swept out with the tide. Rice is up. Rice whom Aaron had said was the only one he'd seen with the ability to break his records. Rice the best clutch hitter on the club, with the best slugging percentage in the league. Rice, so quick and strong he once checked his swing halfway through and snapped the bat in two. Rice the Hammer of God sent to scourge the Yankees, the sound was overwhelming, fathers pounded their sons on the back, cars pulled off the road, households froze, New England exulted in its blessedness, and roared its thanks for all good things, for Rice and for a summer stretching halfway through October. Briles threw, Rice swung, and it was over. One pitch, a fly to center, and it stopped. Summer died in New England and like rain sliding off a roof, the crowd slipped out of Fenway, quickly, with only a steady murmur of concern for the drive ahead remaining of the roar. Mutability had turned the seasons and translated hope to memory once again. And, once again, she had used baseball, our best invention to stay change, to bring change on.
”That is why it breaks my heart, that game--not because in New York they could win because Boston lost; in that, there is a rough justice, and a reminder to the Yankees of how slight and fragile are the circumstances that exalt one group of human beings over another. It breaks my heart because it was meant to, because it was meant to foster in me again the illusion that there was something abiding, some pattern and some impulse that could come together to make a reality that would resist the corrosion; and because, after it had fostered again that most hungered-for illusion, the game was meant to stop, and betray precisely what it promised.
”Of course, there are those who learn after the first few times. They grow out of sports. And there are others who were born with the wisdom to know that nothing lasts. These are the truly tough among us, the ones who can live without illusion, or without even the hope of illusion. I am not that grown-up or up-to-date. I am a simpler creature, tied to more primitive patterns and cycles. I need to think something lasts forever, and it might as well be that state of being that is a game; it might as well be that, in a green field, in the sun.” — A. Bartlett Giamatti
16-1-1 in 2024, +62 GD and 89 points total. A remarkable season by all accounts, even if it ultimately didn’t receive the external validation of a trophy.
But, in any case, it is time to close the book on 2023-24. The countdown to 2024-25 begins.
COYG ❤️

I have an older brother as well.
When I was younger my mother did a lot for me as a child she took care of me and fed me. However I noticed as time went on I noticed patterns that I started to hate her.
My mom would throw her problems on me about her marriage (they are divorced now). She would always judge every friend I ever had, sometimes distancing herself from me and staying quiet around me. She would get mad if I hung out with my friends to much or on the phone with them, Sometimes when I we would argue should would bring them up randomly saying how they changed me (I was 11 years old at the time). She would always send my older brother to go scream at me and I would be really scared. He once even grabbed me and shook me very violently. Than she would pull my older brother away and tell him not to do that.
Later on in my teenage years she would be mad if I had a girlfriend. She would pretend not to see my girlfriend and just keep walking passed them. All the time I would be dating someone she would be miserable it seemed. In arguments she would randomly tell me "If you love them so much stop telling my your problems and tell them your problems, go marry them while your at it!" When ever my relationships would end due to normal circumstances she would seem to comfort me but at the same time seemed to be a lot lighter and happier again with herself.
My brother listened to her, he did everything she said. He had no friends and never had a girlfriend and never worked. She used to be so proud of him, but behind his back she would talk shit about him and how he is ruining his own life. Yet she was the one that wanted him to stay single all to herself. My brother and my mom were always together it was bizarre.
She even used to be obsessed with my "masturbation habits and porn habits saying it was a sin" she would constantly check on me if I was doing anything. She would randomly bring it up being like "Have you masturbated today?" Like for god sake I was 16 years old!
When I got a full time job she starting treating my differently, she got aggressive with me more, started picking more fights with me. She starting saying I had anger issues (Which I did because I dealt with her so much). She would send my brother to yell and hit me sometimes but when my brother would start doing that she would start crying on the floor saying the family is tearing apart, until I would stop and do what she says.
I started to rebel when I got my full time job, I just started hanging out with friends, went on relationships and did what ever the hell I wanted, I told myself she can go fuck herself. I started acting out towards her. I started to become violent to her and my brother.
I started hitting my mother, held her down, beat her with a phone once, broke down the door she hid behind after coming into my room to yell at me that I was going out with friends and that I was changing as a person and she did not like it. My mom called me psycho, she threatened to call the police on me. I started to have dreams of murdering my mother constantly. I was tired of the life she had created for me.
She kicked me out of the house after and made my older brother stay with her, I moved in with my father across the state (We live in United States Arizona) and than moved in to my own Condo after 1 year. The reason she kicked me out was because I was dating someone and she told me that she cannot continue to house me if I kept living like that (I was 20 when I was kicked out).
A year later I still kept contact with my mom, things seemed a little better but tension was still there. However when I went to visit once at the house my brother and her escorted me around the house because they said I was not living there anymore and just wanted to make sure I did not take anything from there house. My mother even got mad when I took a shower once saying "You don't live here anymore, take it at home".
When I met my wife (girlfriend at the time) my mother had a issue with her, the first thing she told her was "Why are you with my son, you know he has a lot of problems" my wife is Arab (I am white American) so my mom used to pass comments about her saying to me behind her back "Be careful of those people, you know there families can be aggressive and kidnap you, they hold ransoms sometimes" or things like "Just make sure you don't catch a disease from them". When I told my mother I was getting married she became even worse about her. My mother and brother did not attend my wedding. On my wedding day my mother wrote me a long paragraph on how I ruined her life, she cannot believe the son she raised and how disrespectful I am to her, she even managed to talk a lot of my family to not go to my wedding. She told me you may be getting married but I am always still your mother I will always love you more than she ever will. When you were little I took care of you, I wiped up after you, I cleaned you, bathed you, fed you and this is how you repay me! After my wedding day on my honeymoon I turned off my phone. When I got back from Greece I had a wall of texts of how I am a failure, how I ruined everything for her, she hates her life now. I even heard from others that know her that she got super sick when i got married, threw up, and just in miserable now.
I decided that my wife and my own life should come first. I decided to cut contact with her, it was the hardest thing I ever did but I feel it was the best thing.
AITA for this? Sorry for the long read but I wanted to explain my story. Feels good to finally say it. You can be honest and judge, but I feel such relief ever since cutting her out and my psychy has been better ever since, no more anxiety.

I have an older brother as well.
When I was younger my mother did a lot for me as a child she took care of me and fed me. However I noticed as time went on I noticed patterns that I started to hate her.
My mom would throw her problems on me about her marriage (they are divorced now). She would always judge every friend I ever had, sometimes distancing herself from me and staying quiet around me. She would get mad if I hung out with my friends to much or on the phone with them, Sometimes when I we would argue should would bring them up randomly saying how they changed me (I was 11 years old at the time). She would always send my older brother to go scream at me and I would be really scared. He once even grabbed me and shook me very violently. Than she would pull my older brother away and tell him not to do that.
Later on in my teenage years she would be mad if I had a girlfriend. She would pretend not to see my girlfriend and just keep walking passed them. All the time I would be dating someone she would be miserable it seemed. In arguments she would randomly tell me "If you love them so much stop telling my your problems and tell them your problems, go marry them while your at it!" When ever my relationships would end due to normal circumstances she would seem to comfort me but at the same time seemed to be a lot lighter and happier again with herself.
My brother listened to her, he did everything she said. He had no friends and never had a girlfriend and never worked. She used to be so proud of him, but behind his back she would talk shit about him and how he is ruining his own life. Yet she was the one that wanted him to stay single all to herself. My brother and my mom were always together it was bizarre.
She even used to be obsessed with my "masturbation habits and porn habits saying it was a sin" she would constantly check on me if I was doing anything. She would randomly bring it up being like "Have you masturbated today?" Like for god sake I was 16 years old!
When I got a full time job she starting treating my differently, she got aggressive with me more, started picking more fights with me. She starting saying I had anger issues (Which I did because I dealt with her so much). She would send my brother to yell and hit me sometimes but when my brother would start doing that she would start crying on the floor saying the family is tearing apart, until I would stop and do what she says.
I started to rebel when I got my full time job, I just started hanging out with friends, went on relationships and did what ever the hell I wanted, I told myself she can go fuck herself. I started acting out towards her. I started to become violent to her and my brother.
I started hitting my mother, held her down, beat her with a phone once, broke down the door she hid behind after coming into my room to yell at me that I was going out with friends and that I was changing as a person and she did not like it. My mom called me psycho, she threatened to call the police on me. I started to have dreams of murdering my mother constantly. I was tired of the life she had created for me.
She kicked me out of the house after and made my older brother stay with her, I moved in with my father across the state (We live in United States Arizona) and than moved in to my own Condo after 1 year. The reason she kicked me out was because I was dating someone and she told me that she cannot continue to house me if I kept living like that (I was 20 when I was kicked out).
A year later I still kept contact with my mom, things seemed a little better but tension was still there. However when I went to visit once at the house my brother and her escorted me around the house because they said I was not living there anymore and just wanted to make sure I did not take anything from there house. My mother even got mad when I took a shower once saying "You don't live here anymore, take it at home".
When I met my wife (girlfriend at the time) my mother had a issue with her, the first thing she told her was "Why are you with my son, you know he has a lot of problems" my wife is Arab (I am white American) so my mom used to pass comments about her saying to me behind her back "Be careful of those people, you know there families can be aggressive and kidnap you, they hold ransoms sometimes" or things like "Just make sure you don't catch a disease from them". When I told my mother I was getting married she became even worse about her. My mother and brother did not attend my wedding. On my wedding day my mother wrote me a long paragraph on how I ruined her life, she cannot believe the son she raised and how disrespectful I am to her, she even managed to talk a lot of my family to not go to my wedding. She told me you may be getting married but I am always still your mother I will always love you more than she ever will. When you were little I took care of you, I wiped up after you, I cleaned you, bathed you, fed you and this is how you repay me! After my wedding day on my honeymoon I turned off my phone. When I got back from Greece I had a wall of texts of how I am a failure, how I ruined everything for her, she hates her life now. I even heard from others that know her that she got super sick when i got married, threw up, and just in miserable now.
I decided that my wife and my own life should come first. I decided to cut contact with her, it was the hardest thing I ever did but I feel it was the best thing.
AITA for this? Sorry for the long read but I wanted to explain my story. Feels good to finally say it. You can be honest and judge, but I feel such relief ever since cutting her out and my psychy has been better ever since, no more anxiety.

We're currently broke rn. And were in debt so we had to sell our car last year and just booked a new one. And me and my mom thought that everybody already knows about that. But apparently my dad lied to everyone to not damage his reputation. So we had a family wedding to attend today evening and we were outside our house waiting for an uber because we don't have a car. It was very awkward and the cherry on top was the lightning. It was about to rain and my mom was really looking forward to this wedding. Then two of the neighborhood ladies who were taking a walk saw us and asked my mom where were we going so dressed up and my mom said that we're going to a wedding, then they asked for what were we waiting and my mom just told the truth that we sold our car due to financial issues so we're waiting for an uber. Then the two ladies awkwardly laughed and continued their walk. My dad got extremely angry at this because the husbands of the two ladies aren't rich and my mom just lowered his "value" in front of the two ladies by just saying the truth. He threw the wedding gift on the road, cancelled the uber and said that he won't go to the wedding. Then he started screaming vulgar language and "revealed" to everyone (all the houses' front doors were open) that my mother is six years older than him. Now this is a very sensitive topic to my mother. Whenever the word "age" is mentioned in front of my mother, she starts fidgeting. Apparently it's a big shame. A few people even came outside to see what was going on but they didn't interfere. I'm pretty sure someone recorded. My mom was very embarassed but still wanted to go to the wedding, so she tried to convince dad to book an uber again and then we went to the wedding. He refused to come inside and just waited outside and a thunderstorm started. Me and my mom went inside with dull faces and I ignored everyone who tried to talk to me. Idk why I did that, it just made it very apparent that something bad happened. Everybody started asking where was my dad and my mom just had to reveal that this and that happened. There was family who lived close to our house and they offered to take us home if our dad refused to which he did. He sent a message saying he's leaving. We had our food very quickly. I literally couldn't eat anything. Then we were about to leave when my dad texted that he doesn't have the house key and to give it to him. My mom and I walked to him during the thunderstorm and then he said that he booked an uber and we're all leaving. My mom had to say that we're going with dad so they don't keep waiting for us but they just wouldn't pick up the phone. So my mom had to walk back again and tell them. My dad then cancelled the uber. Said some things and then told us that he's leaving alone and to manage somehow and that he won't even open the door for us when we reach home. But then he came back with an uber. So we get in. He told my mom how he's going to reveal to everyone how she's six years older because my mom embarassed him in front of people who aren't up to his level (his words). Then he told my mom to go the houses of the two neighborhood ladies and tell them the lie which my dad told everyone else. We went to both the houses and the two ladies just laughed. One of them said she didn't even remember it and the other one said that my father had the right to be angry. He didn't enter along with us and when we left the house, he wasn't outside. He went home. My mom and dad then started arguing really loudly and my mom told him that she's going to the police to "scare" him but it just made everything worse. He took a heavy chair and was about to hit her with it. But he didn't, he just used his hand and he did it so hard, my mom started bleeding from her mouth. But he didn't care. He then took a photo of her while she fell down on the floor and sent it to everyone we had on WhatsApp. Even people from my school. I deleted it soon after and blocked everyone's number but I'm sure some of them saw the picture. He said he's going to embarass her ten times worse than she did. Then he also told me that he will not let me go to school again. And that he would kill both me and my mom and then glady go to prison. He won't let mom divorce him or report him to the police. He would kill us instead. I don't think life will ever get better. I've posted so many times on Reddit always hoping maybe it will get better one day but it never does. I feel really bad for my mother. She may be older but she's the prettiest woman I know. Her beauty will never fade. And we literally never have anywhere to go and my mom spent hours trying to look perfect because she wanted many pictures to post but it couldn't happen. She didn't get to take a single picture. I really really want to give her the life she truly deserves. She was so excited for today. She was planning her outfit and everything like two months ago.

Actually, I told my mom a few weeks ago straight-up that I “didn’t believe that God exists” and she seemed supportive and respectful. I thought she understood, at the time, and that she genuinely wanted to understand my position. Though I never said it outright to my dad, I felt it was obvious enough from the questions I was asking.
But religion came up again yesterday, and I (19M btw) once again had to tell my mom that no, I’m not a doubting Christian, I’m an atheist and I told her as much. Apparently “I don’t believe God exists” leaves room for the doubting Christian thing but “atheist” doesn’t? She seemed very bothered by my use of the word. She threw all the usual apologetics at me. “So you believe in evolution? But !” “The gospels won’t match perfectly because eyewitnesses give different accounts!” (in reference to Matthew’s zombie apocalypse) “You don’t trust the Bible? Well, I don’t trust whatever source you got this information from.” (you mean what I said about what the Bible literally says?) Eventually she gave up and got my dad involved, despite my sleepy self’s strong protests.
My dad came, my mom made a point to tell him that I was a “professing atheist” who “believes in evolution”, and he and I had a not-so-fun debate that lasted until the predawn hours. At first it was blatant science denialism: “Science can’t explain everything!” “Where are the missing links?” “Entropy is incompatible with evolution!” “Evolution is unfalsifiable!” “Uniformitarianism doesn’t account for the frequent natural disasters we see!” I could give a laundry list of the points he brought up, but they weren’t very impressive. I tried to tell him that scientific theories aren’t supposed to be perfect, that they do change and adapt to new evidence, but he kept saying that because scientists would only keep revising the theory, the process itself was unfalsifiable. So much for rational thinking. What does he expect scientists to do, assume his very unfalsifiable god did it? He kept saying that the world itself was conclusive evidence of god and seemed to suggest that atheists are willfully ignorant.
He made some of the other usual arguments. That an omnipotent, omniscient god put all the evidence necessary to prove his existence. That us actually knowing he exists would destroy free will. That morality necessitates a god. That the actions of this omnibenevolent god is somehow bound to the culture of sinful man. He said a few things beyond that that basically amounted to wholeheartedly agreeing with Christianity’s worst parts: that obedience itself is a virtue (including in the case of Abraham, and that he would not have the “courage” to do what Abraham did), that Yahweh is above moral judgement for murdering three-year-olds (“what makes you think you can judge God?”) and that Yahweh intends that some people don’t get saved. He said he’d heard all these arguments before and it didn’t even faze him. He flat-out stated that he doesn’t believe life ought to be fair. I quickly realized that this was an argument I could not win, because we weren’t even having this discussion with the same set of basic premises. He’s too far gone to be reasonable about this. When it got late enough we basically just agreed that the other person’s arguments were too lousy to convince. Which horrifies me, personally, that these atrocities don’t even bother him at all.
I had to go to church with them this morning to celebrate my sister’s high school graduation. I often withdrew from the church crowds because, frankly, I don’t like crowds and being around these people brings back painful memories. My dad walked up to me one of these times and played the angry atheist card. “You’re angry, aren’t you? You’re angry because you think the church pulled one over on you. Tell me, what have you lost?” he said. Such a total lack of empathy. It seems the only thing he cares about is being right. He knows nothing of how hard it is to be treated as a misfit for years on end by the only friend group you’ve ever known. How much of my strict, sheltered childhood was shaped by his and my mom’s political and religious opinions.
Until today, I respected my parents as good, caring people, even though I disagreed with them on so many important issues. I don’t see how I can have any respect for them anymore. How can you tell me you willingly worship a god who creates people for the sole purpose of sending them to hell? That this god is above his own moral standard of “thou shalt not murder”? How can you tell me that you don’t think life ought to be fair under your all-loving god? And then going so low as to apply tired “angry atheist” stereotypes to me, being completely unsympathetic to my personal struggles? They’re not even trying to understand. They just want to be right. And I’m afraid that’s just not an attitude I’m okay with.
Rant over, I guess. Maybe it’ll fizzle down from here. Don’t think I’ll need to go back to church for a while. It’s a load off my chest, and I don’t think I really could have kept the secret much longer. Oh yeah, and I never mentioned this, but surely my whole household + my grandma now know because of how carelessly loud and open my dad was last night about my atheism. It’s out, for better or worse.

Long message/ narrative over the last two years which has been troubling me. Also, I don't know if my story really fit in here. Haven't used this app much. Apologies to the moderato admin of the community.
I'm 30 yo male. I got married on 19 Feb 22 and just completed 2 yrs. The last 2 years have been very difficult for me and I had thoughts of commiting suicide multiple times. Now, somehow those thoughts have stopped.
My legally wedded (28 yo as on date) has done nothing but tarnished my image in the society, my peers, juniors and seniors of the office. She shouted on me, threw things on me and even held knife on my throat.
My sex life was also never good in these last 2 years. I never forced her for anything or put any kind of pressure on her and yet she pushed when it came to my pleasure. I was very deliberate and concerned about her pleasure and always kept mine at a backfoot. After giving her a good orgasm, she always said that she's tired and asked me to move and that she wants to sleep. I always did it. Towards end of 23, I even found her tinder profile.
We were already under marriage counselo psychologist since May 22 (calling her 'A') and that too it was my wife who wanted to go for it. Post that in Dec 22, we went for another psychologist/ counselor (calling her 'B') as well. And my wife was reluctant to change her behavior.
She even put false allegations (of having an affair with another of her colleague) on one of my senior under whom she was working and shouted on him on multiple occasions including their official meetings. (Let's say her organization is Z and mine is A. I work along with this senior in organization A and he's also the boss of organization Z in which she works)
I've heard her talking bad and ill about me to others in her family and other known ladies here in the society. I also have those recordings when she's talking like that about me. Also, I have photos and videos of her WhatsApp chats where I caught her cheating on me with a considerable older man (got suspicious from Apr 22). I have her chats where they were sexting. When she got suspicious that I might know, she changed the platform to telegram and then to signal. But again, I was able to track her sexting on all the other platforms. Once I confronted her (Feb 23 on first anniversary), she never accepted her mistake and said that as per her she never did anything wrong. A few months later, I see another of her chats with her ex. Before marriage, she did tell me about her ex and said that never happened anything between them apart from holding hands. I kept an eye on the chats and I find that as late as 1 in the night they were on a video call which lasted close to an hour. A few days later when she was heading to her home (in Jun 23), myka, I see her text telling him that she wants to meet him and she's OK getting physical with him. And then confirms if the place to get physical will be the same like earlier, the corner seat in the theater. This got me very furious and I did not want her to come back. Which I made clear to her and her parents. Even then her parents never believed me and she was always the best manipulater and denied the same and denied this sort of talk which I claim had happened.
All this while, the counselor A, I've been in touch with her. When these things happened, I told her and my parents everything. Both, they asked me to give her another chance and after a series of conference call between me and my wife and counselor A being the moderator, finally she came back after close to 5 months, just before Diwali last year. And even that was painful. We flew to my parents place for diwali and again lots of things and fights happened. Post diwali, my parents shifted with me permanently. First week of Dec, she scratched my mother, then pushed and kicked and my mother fell badly hurting herself and sustaining injury in her flesh area of the ribs. It was very bad few weeks for her. Even the doc said her to get admitted thinking that even I'm with my wife in hurting my mother. She held on to my laptop, hugging it, which I had given my father to work on. My parents said, let us delete the files stored on it and then you can keep it and then words were exchanged and that is when she did all those things to my mother.
Since that day onwards, it's been 5 months that we are living separated. She's living in her home with her parents and me here with my parents. I've decided and made up my mind for a divorce. But I'm not sure even if I hold any ground to file a divorce. Also, the courts and law in our country mostly favours the opposite sex, the females.
Need advice/ help as to what should I do. Thanks in advance.

To whomever this relates to/helps:
I was never protected as a child. And therefore, i grew up with this mindset of being used and disposed of. I spent 24 years of my life feeling very similar to a way a spare tire feels; it's good it's there but no one needs to actually every think about it until they need it. When someone was angry, they came and found me. When someone wanted to lash out, they came and found me. When someone needed someone to blame for everything wrong in life, they came and found me.
But my story of knowing something was wrong started when i was really young. I was a child who was desperate for a peaceful environment; desperate enough that i sought out my school counselors for relief.
I think my school counselors always knew something was going on. I was anxious, depressed, and always in there office with stories I'd make up that were adjacent to what was going on at home; but with different characters. Never specific enough to gain enough of their attention, I was always careful not to divulge too much information. My parents warned me at a young age that if i ever "told the truth" about what went on in the house that they'd take me away from them. But, strangely, it would always be followed with "and if you think it's bad here; it will be worse there."
So i stayed quiet. Every couple of years, spaced enough that it would be different counselors i'd visit, when i would break; it would be a new person who knew nothing of me or my history. The advice would always be the same, to a point where in high school, I would give them the advice they were ready to give me in a sort of angsty-angry way. I told myself that the issues that went on were my fault. If only i was smarter, if only i was skinnier, if only i was prettier; maybe then mom would unconditionally love me. Maybe then dad wouldn't use me as his punching bag when he was angry. Maybe if i was actually worth something, they would see that and stop the abuse. Unfortunately; I'm here to tell anyone with that mindset this: it will never happen. When they run out of reasons; they'll just start to hate you more consistently.
I say this all to provide context for this:
Before this phase in life; i would take this abuse on the cheek and keep going with my life. I would block it out as soon as it happened and "turned it off". I was able to do that so seamlessly. I felt like these were just "things that happen in a family".
During high school and college is when the reality of years and years of being the black sheep of an abusive narcissistic household started to take its toll. I was sexually abused by multiple boyfriends in high school, I started to use nicotine products, I started to drink recklessly, and i entered into the darkest depression i ever had in my life.
And on the outside; it looked like nothing had triggered it.
By freshman year of college, I started to become so devastatingly depressed that i lost 20 pounds, stopped showering, and couldn't function as a human being. I wanted to die. Not kill myself; i never got to suicidal ideation. But i certainly wanted to die. I would beg god to take me away every day. Even thinking about it now brings up some hard feelings.
Sophomore year of college i met my Narcissistic ex-boyfriend. Who ill name Steven for privacy purposes. Steven saw a very vulnerable and scared girl and found an opportunity within that. Steven ruined my entire life; he imprisoned me in our relationship and it got so bad that i feared for my life at the end. He stalked me, he was the scariest man ive ever encountered. But i realized something in Steven that made me have a breakthrough - Steven reminded me of home. Our ups and downs felt like home to me. That feeling scared me.
Junior year of college I was raped by a man who was 10 years older than me. And it was so traumatizing to me that i could not go to a class I had because the teacher resembled him and it would put me in fight or flight every time.
Senior year I moved out of my home after finding a job and my parents, who seemed supportive at first, completely estranged me and threw all my winter clothing out just to spite me for "leaving them".
24 years old now: I am finally escaping the situation and taking back my voice. With the help of spiritual healers, an amazing therapist, and a family of friends who truly love me; i am escaping and going no contact the second my foot hits the door. I am not afraid. I am not "someone's daughter" or "someone's sister" or the "black sheep". I am me.
I say this to tell you all: anyone who feels stuck right now in their situation. Your freedom is within you. I recommend CBT and EMDR to really hone in on that healing power. You are strong, you are one, you are infinite love. You will escape and when you do; dont ever look back.

Long message/ narrative over the last two years which has been troubling me. Also, I don't know if my story really fit in here. Haven't used this app much. Apologies to the moderato admin of the community.
I'm 30 yo male. I got married on 19 Feb 22 and just completed 2 yrs. The last 2 years have been very difficult for me and I had thoughts of commiting suicide multiple times. Now, somehow those thoughts have stopped.
My legally wedded (28 yo as on date) has done nothing but tarnished my image in the society, my peers, juniors and seniors of the office. She shouted on me, threw things on me and even held knife on my throat.
My sex life was also never good in these last 2 years. I never forced her for anything or put any kind of pressure on her and yet she pushed when it came to my pleasure. I was very deliberate and concerned about her pleasure and always kept mine at a backfoot. After giving her a good orgasm, she always said that she's tired and asked me to move and that she wants to sleep. I always did it. Towards end of 23, I even found her tinder profile.
We were already under marriage counselo psychologist since May 22 (calling her 'A') and that too it was my wife who wanted to go for it. Post that in Dec 22, we went for another psychologist/ counselor (calling her 'B') as well. And my wife was reluctant to change her behavior.
She even put false allegations (of having an affair with another of her colleague) on one of my senior under whom she was working and shouted on him on multiple occasions including their official meetings. (Let's say her organization is Z and mine is A. I work along with this senior in organization A and he's also the boss of organization Z in which she works)
I've heard her talking bad and ill about me to others in her family and other known ladies here in the society. I also have those recordings when she's talking like that about me. Also, I have photos and videos of her WhatsApp chats where I caught her cheating on me with a considerable older man (got suspicious from Apr 22). I have her chats where they were sexting. When she got suspicious that I might know, she changed the platform to telegram and then to signal. But again, I was able to track her sexting on all the other platforms. Once I confronted her (Feb 23 on first anniversary), she never accepted her mistake and said that as per her she never did anything wrong. A few months later, I see another of her chats with her ex. Before marriage, she did tell me about her ex and said that never happened anything between them apart from holding hands. I kept an eye on the chats and I find that as late as 1 in the night they were on a video call which lasted close to an hour. A few days later when she was heading to her home (in Jun 23), myka, I see her text telling him that she wants to meet him and she's OK getting physical with him. And then confirms if the place to get physical will be the same like earlier, the corner seat in the theater. This got me very furious and I did not want her to come back. Which I made clear to her and her parents. Even then her parents never believed me and she was always the best manipulater and denied the same and denied this sort of talk which I claim had happened.
All this while, the counselor A, I've been in touch with her. When these things happened, I told her and my parents everything. Both, they asked me to give her another chance and after a series of conference call between me and my wife and counselor A being the moderator, finally she came back after close to 5 months, just before Diwali last year. And even that was painful. We flew to my parents place for diwali and again lots of things and fights happened. Post diwali, my parents shifted with me permanently. First week of Dec, she scratched my mother, then pushed and kicked and my mother fell badly hurting herself and sustaining injury in her flesh area of the ribs. It was very bad few weeks for her. Even the doc said her to get admitted thinking that even I'm with my wife in hurting my mother. She held on to my laptop, hugging it, which I had given my father to work on. My parents said, let us delete the files stored on it and then you can keep it and then words were exchanged and that is when she did all those things to my mother.
Since that day onwards, it's been 5 months that we are living separated. She's living in her home with her parents and me here with my parents. I've decided and made up my mind for a divorce. But I'm not sure even if I hold any ground to file a divorce. Also, the courts and law in our country mostly favours the opposite sex, the females.
Need advice/ help as to what should I do. Thanks in advance.

Hi all, I’ve been taking LDN for over a year now for chronic pain and my script is 3mg per capsule to take 3x a day…so 9mg per day. I take it only at night actually because it’s very expensive compound and it was working great at once a day so my doctor said that was fine if I just did that. So I take 3mg 1x at night. However I also smoke thc and really wanted to get off of it, and my pain hasn’t been doing great anymore so for both of those reasons I decided to take one in the morning too and one at night since technically I’m allowed to take 3x a day so 2x a day shouldn’t hurt. I took the first extra morning one 2 days ago and I got extremely sick, so nauseous, shivering, headache, couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and threw up. It worked as far as having absolutely no desire to smoke even tho it would have completely saved me from the nausea. Anyways, I am so hopeless because I want to increase my dose but not if that is the effect.. is that what other people have experienced when increasing dose?? Is that just something to get past for a couple days? Is it because I still had THC in my system maybe? I know it interferes with drug reward systems in the brain and maybe that was why? Any input would be so helpful. Especially from people who actually take it. I don’t see my doctor for a month and I can’t just easily chat or ask him anything. His office is so incompetent and impossible to get a message to.

We're currently broke rn. And were in debt so we had to sell our car last year and just booked a new one. And me and my mom thought that everybody already knows about that. But apparently my dad lied to everyone to not damage his reputation. So we had a family wedding to attend today evening and we were outside our house waiting for an uber because we don't have a car. It was very awkward and the cherry on top was the lightning. It was about to rain and my mom was really looking forward to this wedding. Then two of the neighborhood ladies who were taking a walk saw us and asked my mom where were we going so dressed up and my mom said that we're going to a wedding, then they asked for what were we waiting and my mom just told the truth that we sold our car due to financial issues so we're waiting for an uber. Then the two ladies awkwardly laughed and continued their walk. My dad got extremely angry at this because the husbands of the two ladies aren't rich and my mom just lowered his "value" in front of the two ladies by just saying the truth. He threw the wedding gift on the road, cancelled the uber and said that he won't go to the wedding. Then he started screaming vulgar language and "revealed" to everyone (all the houses' front doors were open) that my mother is six years older than him. Now this is a very sensitive topic to my mother. Whenever the word "age" is mentioned in front of my mother, she starts fidgeting. Apparently it's a big shame. A few people even came outside to see what was going on but they didn't interfere. I'm pretty sure someone recorded. My mom was very embarassed but still wanted to go to the wedding, so she tried to convince dad to book an uber again and then we went to the wedding. He refused to come inside and just waited outside and a thunderstorm started. Me and my mom went inside with dull faces and I ignored everyone who tried to talk to me. Idk why I did that, it just made it very apparent that something bad happened. Everybody started asking where was my dad and my mom just had to reveal that this and that happened. There was family who lived close to our house and they offered to take us home if our dad refused to which he did. He sent a message saying he's leaving. We had our food very quickly. I literally couldn't eat anything. Then we were about to leave when my dad texted that he doesn't have the house key and to give it to him. My mom and I walked to him during the thunderstorm and then he said that he booked an uber and we're all leaving. My mom had to say that we're going with dad so they don't keep waiting for us but they just wouldn't pick up the phone. So my mom had to walk back again and tell them. My dad then cancelled the uber. Said some things and then told us that he's leaving alone and to manage somehow and that he won't even open the door for us when we reach home. But then he came back with an uber. So we get in. He told my mom how he's going to reveal to everyone how she's six years older because my mom embarassed him in front of people who aren't up to his level (his words). Then he told my mom to go the houses of the two neighborhood ladies and tell them the lie which my dad told everyone else. We went to both the houses and the two ladies just laughed. One of them said she didn't even remember it and the other one said that my father had the right to be angry. He didn't enter along with us and when we left the house, he wasn't outside. He went home. My mom and dad then started arguing really loudly and my mom told him that she's going to the police to "scare" him but it just made everything worse. He took a heavy chair and was about to hit her with it. But he didn't, he just used his hand and he did it so hard, my mom started bleeding from her mouth. But he didn't care. He then took a photo of her while she fell down on the floor and sent it to everyone we had on WhatsApp. Even people from my school. I deleted it soon after and blocked everyone's number but I'm sure some of them saw the picture. He said he's going to embarass her ten times worse than she did. Then he also told me that he will not let me go to school again. And that he would kill both me and my mom and then glady go to prison. He won't let mom divorce him or report him to the police. He would kill us instead. I don't think life will ever get better. I've posted so many times on Reddit always hoping maybe it will get better one day but it never does. I feel really bad for my mother. She may be older but she's the prettiest woman I know. Her beauty will never fade. And we literally never have anywhere to go and my mom spent hours trying to look perfect because she wanted many pictures to post but it couldn't happen. She didn't get to take a single picture. I really really want to give her the life she truly deserves. She was so excited for today. She was planning her outfit and everything like two months ago.
Wrong flair but can't edit it.

https://youtu.be/kKTWybNRR3Y?si=nmPCk4Ex5xKKbsdq
https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/tragicallyhip/wellgotoo.html
Hello everyone, I hope all is well. Today we are going to be looking at the song “We’ll Go Too” which is the seventh song from the band’s third studio album Fully Completely.
This is a song where on first listen you might not think it’s as catchy or as important as other songs on this near perfect album. But the more you listen to it, the more it starts to gel with ya. It begins with this bright chugging guitar riff that is simple but drenched in reverb, with a tone that reminds me of the 80’s. It’s followed quickly by a fast strum of a distorted guitar, Sinclair’s bass and Johnny’s hi hat. Afterwards, that distorted guitar comes down and plays some nice arpeggios to give the song dynamics. It’s a huge sounding intro and it transitions nicely into the verses. I especially love the rhythm of this song. I believe it’s in a 4/4 time signature but it definitely has a swing to the drums which gives it a march type feel to fit with the song’s title.
Lyrically, this song appears to have different themes that we’ll break down, one by one. First, Gord sings “to boldly clap, in a room full of nothing.” It’s a funny thing to imagine but I see it as someone wanting to stand out in a crowd. Which in a sense is what most performers try to do. The second part of the verse is “museum's locked and it's long since past closing” which of course reminds me of the line from “Wheat Kings” where Gord sings “ it’s a museum and we're all locked up in it after dark.”
But the following lyric in this song, “you cannot know, you cannot not know, what you're knowing” is also worth noting. Again, it’s a comical line that contradicts itself, but I read it as someone who’s maybe unsure about something because they are unsure about themselves. This whole first verse could be through the perspective of someone who’s afraid of looking like idiot for wanting to stray from a social norm and of being afraid of not knowing the way to do it.
Now when the band launch into the chorus, this is the part that took a bit to grow on me. The music during the chorus is great and I have no issues with it. It’s more the way that Gord sings the chorus that threw me for a loop. It’s the note and more specially the way that Gord sings the word “what.” To my ears at first, the note just seemed a little wrong or a little off. It almost sticks out like a sore thumb. I’m not sure if that’s just a “me” thing or if that’s what Gord intention was. But now I have no issues with it and in fact I think the melody is extremely catchy now.
And lyrically, I think this chorus is from a similar perspective. Gord sings “what can we do? They’ve all gone and we’ll go too.” This sounds like someone, or a group of people, realizing that they can’t do anything to make themselves stand out so they’ll just follow everyone else. So if the crowd goes, then they will too. And it’s possible that this chorus is sung from the same person in the verse. Maybe this is them realizing they just have to follow the norm. And speaking of following things, I absolutely love the little guitar riff that follows the chorus. It’s fun, playful and really fits the vibe of the song. It starts off with some slower picking before doing some nice hammering ons to make it more bouncy.
In the second verse, Gord starts off by painting a picture of opening the curtains everyday as if he’s stuck in a routine. The real telling line to me is “I don’t know why, I’m so immunized against reforming.” It’s like this person is not sure why they are against the idea of making a change. It seems like they don’t want to follow the herd but can’t help themselves. The lyric “to coldly slap at a face full of nothing” is a nice counter balance to the very first line in the song. And the lyric “You never know, it could've been one of those looks of longing” is maybe the idea that this person is looking for the look on someone else’s face that tells them that they aren’t alone in feeling this way.
After another chorus we get this extremely tasty solo from Rob. It’s not overly long or self indulgent, but it has the perfect amount of delay to sound huge and still fit the song. Coming out of the solo we get one final chorus and one final guitar riff to end the song.
This song may be one that a lot of people skipped over on the first listen to this album. I know I was one of those people. But over the years it’s actually become one of my favorites. I feel like this song has a different sound than a lot of other Hip songs. The pocket that Sinclair and Johnny play in is extremely tight, the various licks that Rob and Paul play throughout the song really work well within in the groove, the production is perfect like the rest of the album and the lyrics feel relatable once you peel back their layers.
But what do you think of this song? Would you considered this song a deep cut? What do you think the song is about? Favorite lyrical or musical moments? And have you seen this song live?

To just start from the beginning, in about mid-December I (F18) threw a party to kick off winter break. My mom was working a 16-hour shift and I thought it would be fun plus I did…do it before without getting in trouble lol. But this time I had to watch my little sister (F14)… she’s not really an issue, she’s just can be extremely socially awkward sometimes. So to solve this issue I arranged her with one of my male friends, who thought that my sister was cute.
So when the party starts, I’m drinking and smoking a bit. So I’m really buzzed at this point but my guy friend eventually shows up with his friends, I put him and my sister together and I thought it was going okay. But my sister kept sticking to my hip. I was getting super annoyed at this point, so I decided to hide from her in the bathroom for a bit and I guess she got tired of looking for me and went to her room. When I came back out of the bathroom, I heard her coming back downstairs. So I just ran out of the house at this point and just got into someone’s car and we went to go eat. I came back to the house and It got way more full and I didn’t see my sister so I just assumed she locked herself in her room for the rest of the night.
Fast forward to like 3 hours later, my mom comes home early because my neighbor called and told her about the party at my house. So she’s yelling at me and kicking everyone out. She then went to check on my sister and the next thing I heard was my mom screaming to call 911 and that my sister wasn’t responsive. The ambulance and cops came, my mom and sister went to the hospital and the cops made me come to the police station with them. I honestly thought my sister overdosed. I was interrogated for 6 hours, which was the police hounding me about all the guests at the party. Eventually, they told me after getting all the information they needed from me they told me my little sister was going to be fine, but she was brutally SAd by 4 guys who attended the party and that they would have to charge me for child endangerment.
Since I did catch a charge, my mom has been having this animosity towards me since…in so many ways I feel like she blames me for what happened and it’s really not fair to me because I could never predict that would happen to my little sister. I just feel very scapegoated by my mom and my sister is not even mad at me nor places any blame on me. She is honestly fine these days and I overheard her talking to a boy the other day. My mom didn’t even try to care about my prom yesterday and that really hit me hard. Idk i guess I’m trying to see if I’m the AH here I’m having a hard time finding out how I could be. Because What I gathered from why my mom is mad is because of my lack of responsibility for what happened to my sister, when again idk wtf else she wants me to do I literally spent a weekend in jail and I’m now on probation for 3 years, so my college experience is gonna suck. But anyways ATAH?

The bright yellow terror

‘’Every now and then I would stare at the murky brown water below and see several small glimpses of bright yellow popping up from and then retreating down below the surface in rhythmic fashion. Like a dance routine. Bright deadly yellow. The rotting sweet stench of death still lodged in my nostrils.’’
I had happened upon these diary pages by mistake when I was digging through old boxes in my basement. My wife had insisted, finally, that I sort out and get rid of everything I didn’t need. Now here I was, confronted with a part of my past I had tried to suppress unsuccessfully for so many years. 24 years to be exact. 24 odd years of trying to understand what exactly happened in those days when I was trapped on a rooftop in Phuket during a deadly and disastrous natural catastrophe.
24 odd years of having to dodge around questions of my abject and unwavering fear of the ocean. Well, in truth, I guess being caught in a large tsunami and witnessing immense destructive forces of nature coming directly from the great wide ocean would be a fair excuse, but it was only half the truth. It wasn’t just the waves themselves that had terrified me.
Until now, I thought the water damaged remains of the diary I kept back then was lost. I even hoped it was. I never shared this story with anyone. Partly because the horror was too fresh in my memory back then and I wanted to focus on moving on with my life and by the time I felt my mind was stabilized I had no real interest in returning to that dark part of my past. Partly because the right words always escaped me.
Mostly because I was afraid people would think I was insane. I can no longer contain this, however. I need an outlet. I spend years running from it. But I guess I can’t lie to myself anymore. Someone once told me that writing can be therapeutic. Simply putting your thoughts down on paper, or in our times, more likely in word document, can help you compartmentalize trauma. So, I’m giving it a try. I can’t pretend the events of those days in Phuket didn’t cast a shadow over everything in my life that came after.
I often think of the beach days I missed with my son when he was a boy. Days where I should’ve done dad stuff. Thrown him into the ocean. Watched him laugh his little face of as he braved the waves. Helped him build sandcastles. Gone exploring along the sandy shores in search of beached treasure in the form little rocks and the odd piece of amber. I just couldn’t. Initially I had objected to the idea of him going at all. Naturally, my wife would hear none of that and I realized reluctantly, that my fear and trauma should not rule my son’s life. Instead, my wife would go, and I would always stay home. She understood, to some degree, what I had gone through and where my fear came from.
Only to some degree. My son did not, and I fear he resented my absence on those perfect sunny days, despite my efforts to make up for it with other activities. Both he and my wife certainly noticed how closed off I was about certain parts of my past. Secrets untold, especially those who are grounded in trauma, almost inevitably turns to toxic in our systems. I’m finally ready. I just hope it isn’t too late.
I won’t lie. I’ve always had a vivid imagination although I have never had trouble distinguishing between what is real and what is not. At least until my sense of reality was forever challenged. I know these things happened to me. I know what I saw and what I experienced was real. I just don’t have a truly rational explanation for it. Yet, I swear, there was something in the water that came with that tsunami. Something deeply, deeply unnatural. Something brightly and oddly yellow. I had no other word for it than the bright yellow terror.
I had travelled to Thailand, more precisely Bangkok late December 2000. 19 years old about to turn 20. I was on one of those infamous and increasingly popular self-discovery trips. I had caught the fever. Like so many other young hopeful adventurers at the time I had seen The Beach. I had read into the wild by Jon Krakauer.
I watched Dicaprio walk the sandy shores of paradise and read on in excitement and awe as Christopher McCandles set out to become one with nature and discover himself. Kill the false being within and all that. In simple terms, I thought I’d try and find my own slice of heaven on earth. Expand my horizon. Get to know some new people. Learn something about myself in the process perhaps. I wasn’t exactly fleeing from anything, that wasn’t it. I had a loving although cuddling and overprotective family. Especially my mom would worry about me constantly (and still does).
Yes, I admit it. My parents had paved the way for me at almost every step. Made sure I got into the right schools. Made sure I never needed for money. I guess I got tired of feeling dependent on them. I stopped taking their money and saved up for the trip myself. It was time I stepped up. It was time I threw myself into the world to see what would happen. Hell of a time and place I picked for that.
The following story is based on the surviving pages of the diary I kept during the time and my own memory.
Bangkok 23rd December 2000. 4 days before the tsunami.
‘’My first day in Bangkok. Quite overwhelming but in a nice way. No one here to save me. No one here to tell me what to do. Thailand is hot and humid and there’s something in the air. I think it’s adventure. I think it’s limitless opportunity. I met a monkey in a diaper and got thoroughly beaten and lost 100 bath in a game of connect four by some 10-year-old kid. Got scammed as well though, I will have to wise up and learn the ropes. Avoid the yellow taxis. Go for the Tuk Tuks. Well, lesson learned. I met a guy who told me all kinds of terrifying things about Australia. Robert. I’m meeting him in Phuket a couple of days from now.’’
You could probably imagine the excitement bubbling within me. For the first time on my own. 19 years old. Prime of my life. In a strangely new and exotic city. Possibilities seemed endless. I still remember vividly driving off with the wind in my hair in a tuk-tuk as Bangkok unfolded before me with all its oriental mysticism and surrounding cityscapes. To be fair, I had never even seen an honest to god palm tree before as they simply couldn’t grow in the northern climate I was from.
I got myself stationed in a decent guesthouse around Khaosan Road. Everywhere I looked it seems others had gotten the same idea as me. Backpackers littered the streets and in a strange way, I felt at home amidst this quiet chaos, amidst the crowds of hopefully likeminded explorers, far, far away from home. The humidity was hitting me though, it was something I would have to get used to. It felt like a wet hot invisible blanket. Khaosan Road was perfect for me. A meeting place for young backpackers, with tons of opportunities to plan further travels. I did after all, not plan on staying in Bangkok for too long. It was just a stepping point to other adventures.
It was still early, and the humidity was clammy as hell. I was in the mood to socialize and with no real plans I simply ventured out into the streets of Bangkok, circling around the area where my guesthouse was located. It wasn’t long before the first opportunity presented itself in the form of a taxi driver calling me over. He offered to take me on a tour of the city. Foolish and naïve as I was, I indulged him. I remember how the cab driver lit up a doobie, joint, spliff, devil’s lettuce whatever you want to call it.
You know it as soon as you breathe in the air. Don’t get me wrong, I smoked myself, but letting a clearly high person drive me around the busy Bangkok traffic did not seem like a good idea. I should probably have asked to be let out that very moment, but as the kind of timid, shy type of person I was plus the desire to just go along with whatever happened come what may made me stay. Unsurprisingly I was eventually led to a store, fitted for a suit a didn’t want, and then subsequently charged an obscene amount for the cab ride. I didn’t have the courage to refuse his unreasonable demand. Noteworthy mention. That same night I heard from a fellow traveler that just recently someone had been stabbed in an argument with a cab driver. I didn’t let it get me down or drive me off course, because as you’ve probably gathered by now, I didn’t have a course.
As day turned to night and when the sun’s rays slowly disappeared behind the rooftops of Bangkok, the city itself began to transform. As if a part of it which had laid dormant, hidden away from the light, started to emerge.
Neon lights advertising different bars, people making all kinds of promises of untold pleasures and sensations. Tourists ready to party. All now filled the streets. Some seemed all too aware of what they were looking for, others simply drifted around aimlessly, in search of something unknown, something to spice up their existence. I found a small seemingly cool place called The Hangover. I swear to god, I wish to this day I hadn’t. Maybe then I wouldn’t have set my course for Phuket. In any case, I went in and pushed myself through the crowds of rowdy and loud tourists and up the bar where I ordered a Pina Colada. Please don’t judge me. I just really like coconuts and the song is pretty good as well. Standing at the crowded bar and looking around, hoping something interesting would catch my eye. But most of all, I was hoping someone would just take the first step and come talk to me.
Someone did. His name was Robert, and he was from Australia. A tall skinny and no-nonsense older guy who seemed quite experienced with all things Thailand. He eventually invited me down to his group of friends at the far back end of the bar. Robert spared no time telling me about himself. He had worked all kinds of jobs, in all kinds of places. Most recently he had worked as a guide in Phuket. Among other things he had arranged rock climbing expeditions. I probably forgot to mention, I was big into rock climbing and generally all kinds of outdoor activities back then.
I already had quite the climbing experience despite my young age. As Robert talked about all the places he’d been, he made me feel like the novice I was. That was never his intention though, as I quickly learned. He wasn’t a bragger. He just knew what he was talking about and when he laughed, he did it with his entire face and in a way that made you laugh with him and feel comfortable.
Eventually the conversation naturally gravitated towards Australia. A place I had always wanted to visit. He looked at me for a second, as if to contemplate something. Then told me to watch out for locals trying to play pranks on me. I was naturally interested in hearing more and that’s when he told me about drop bears. Supposedly drop bears are carnivorous versions of Koalas residing in trees to then drop down on unsuspecting victims and viciously attack them. We laughed quite a lot, and I admitted I would probably have believed the stories as I was a fairly naive person and the idea of hostile subspecies of koalas didn’t seem that farfetched to me. It would be typical of past me to get punked around like that. Our conversation then shifted towards Australian wildlife and fauna and the horrors residing within its diverse and complicated eco system. He told me about a plant not uncommonly referred to as the suicide plant. Dendrocnide moroides or more commonly known as stinging tree, stinging bush or gympie gympie apparently has such a nasty and painful sting it made a man commit suicide simply to escape the pain. Another dangerous inhabitant was the box jellyfish he explained.
Their sting was about as deadly as it gets. A single sting to a human will cause necrosis of the skin, excruciating pain and, if the dose of venom is large enough, cardiac arrest and death within minutes. I have always found jellyfish equal parts fascinating and equal parts frightening. Beautiful but deadly creatures. In fact, the ocean, in all its grand wide-reaching glory had always horrified me to some extent. So much unexplored space. Who truly knows what could be lurking down there? Robert quickly assured me, that as long as you take your precaution the likelihood of getting stung by a box jellyfish was rather small. They had signs up warning people against them. Generally, do not ignore these signs. They are there for a good reason.
It was getting late and before we said our goodbyes Robert suggested I meet him in Phuket, more precisely in the Khao Lak area on the 28^th as that was the first day he would be able to. I thought why not? He seemed genuinely nice and knowledgeable. Just good company all around and he promised to show me the greatest climbing spots a bit away from the crowded tours. It was a start.
I would never meet Robert again. I don’t know what happened to him. Thinking back on those days leading up to the point the waves came crashing down always gives me an uneasy, sad, and melancholic feeling. The people I met in Bangkok talking about going south. Those I met in Phuket before it happened. I have no idea if they ended up as corpses floating through the murky brown waters or god forbid, victims of that unholy terror from the deep. I hope Robert wasn’t among those unfortunate souls who died or went… ‘’Missing’’. Although if I must pick one or the other. I would hope he died quickly.
Bangkok 24^th of December 2000. 3 days before the tsunami.
I woke up with a slight hangover. Christmas is commonly celebrated on this date in my country, so I was expecting some calls to go through on my brick sized Nokia at some point once all the good folks back home woke up. They were about 5 hours behind me and at 9 AM Bangkok time they would still be sleeping. I used the time to do some shopping before my trip to Phuket. I got plenty of rope, a couple of snap hooks and a harness. I knew they’d have all of this on the guided tours, but I liked to find my own spots to climb, and I had good sense and knowledge enough to not attempt anything too daring. By the way. For those uninitiated, snap hooks are used to make a quick, reversible connection on a system of ropes, or to connect a rope or cord to another component, like a lanyard medallion or barrier post. Essential if you want to go climbing. If you’ve ever gone ziplining it’s the thing that connects you safely to the zipline and lets you slight across.
After having done my shopping, I bought a bus ticket to Phuket intending on leaving that same night and went back to my hotel room. As exciting as Bangkok was, I felt it was more for people intend on partying and in all honesty, a bit too crowded for me. I was excited to move on and I could always come back if I wanted to. On my way into the reception area, I was stopped by a young hip looking dude looking for a cigarette. Now I don’t necessarily consider myself a perfect judge of character, but he had an easy-going way about him that immediately drew me in. Sometimes, you can just tell.
He had sort of a rugged look about him. Dirty blond half-long hair. His face I would best describe as boyish but something in his eyes betrayed him and revealed his age to be older than you would assume. His style was… Boheme I guess I would describe it as. Like something taken out of the 70s LA scene. I’m not a smoker. Never was. So, I couldn’t help him on that front. It didn’t matter he would find someone else he said. For a while we just casually talked. Apparently, he had come to Bangkok just a few days prior and seemed about as lost and without direction as I had been before deciding on taking my chances in Phuket. Alex was his name, and he would later save my life and help me understand what it means to forge a quick and unbreakable connection through shared trauma, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
He asked me if I wanted to go somewhere and get a beer. I thought why not? He was about my age and on his own as well. I told him I had to go make some calls and I’d be out in about an hour. Back the hotel room I quickly gathered all my stuff and packed it up, so it was ready to go. My climbing gear took up the most space. I figured if things went well with Alex, I might be able to persuade him in joining me at some point in Phuket. Even though I had set out for this trip to be about discovering myself and being on my own, I longed for some kind of company. Don’t we all? I called my parents up and we wished each other a happy Christmas. It was odd to think they were somewhere nearly half-way across the world celebrating Christmas while snow draped the landscapes there. Here I was, In hot and humid paradise. No, I did not miss the cold or the snow, but I did miss not being there to celebrate the holidays with my family. But it had been my choice to go during the holiday season and I did not regret it. I had saved up enough money and there was no point in waiting anymore. There would be many other holidays to celebrate in the future.
My 5-year-old nephew somehow got a hold of the phone. Not quite the conversationalist yet, it still felt good to hear his voice. Hearing his excitement over the prospect of celebrating Christmas brought me back to my own childhood. Decorating the Christmas tree, watching holiday cartoons and of course, opening presents. I finished my calls and went out to see if Alex was ready. He was already waiting for me and had apparently managed to score some cigarettes in the meantime. He had changed his outfit as well. Now wearing a faded black doors t-shirt. We talked a bit about Jim Morrison and the doors as we headed off down streets. We passed a myriad of small stands selling everything from electronics to colorful t-shirts and small bracelets with campy misspelled English catchphrases. We dodged the many intrusive offers and eventually found a small comfy looking bar with seats outside shaded by palm trees. We ordered a couple of beers and the conversation started flowing along quite nicely. Alex was 25 and from London It turned out. We also had a common interest in music. For a while he had busked as a street musician while working odd jobs here and there and had eventually decided to travel the world.
His first stop had been India where for a while he had lived on the rooftop of some abandoned building while attempting to learn the art of playing the sitar. I thought about that for a second. Living it rough on some rooftop in India. I don’t know why that idea intrigued me so much. Seemed like freedom to me, I guess. Sleeping under the wide-open skies. Looking down on the streets and watching people go about their lives. I guess I just liked the idea of doing something that seemed different from what I had ever done before. Living on a rooftop, if even just for a while, was definitely not something I had done before. There was the view as well, Alex reminded me. And it was free of course. We drifted off into long conversations about music I won’t bore you too much with, only to let you know we shared a passion for old school music like the doors and Jimi Hendrix as well as 90s shoegaze music like My Bloody Valentine, Ride and Slowdive. I had Slowdive’s Shine playing in my mind that day. All felt so dreamy at the time.
I eventually told Alex of my plans to go to Phuket and he was onboard almost immediately. I loved how easy it was here on the road. There was no ‘’well maybe’’, or ‘’let’s think about it.’’ In fact, Alex had been to Phuket before and knew of a place we could stay for free. Another rooftop of course, but he had already sold me on the idea. From there, we could plan our next step he said. ‘’our next step’’ I don’t remember vibing with someone that quickly before or since, but then I guess making friends is always easier when you’re young and easy going. I always seemed to attract good company without much effort back then. I chalk it down to my friendly and slightly shy demeanor. Seems it only becomes harder to make friends as the years pass though. At least for me it did.
We got a bus ticket for Alex and shopped a bit more. I got some first aid supplies. Bandages, plasters, that kind of stuff. Rock climbing is safe, mind you, but you can end up scraping yourself and I felt in general, being prepared for whatever might be a good idea if I was to live it rough on some rooftop. The bus-ride to Phuket took about 12 hours give or take. By going at night, we could sleep most of the way and be in Phuket early morning on the 25^th. The trip down was uneventful. We would take turns listening to music on Alex’s Walkman or talk about things we saw along the way. Like roadside bars and restaurants who were little more than a tin roof covering a few plastic chairs and brightly colored menu cards. Everything seemed simpler here, in the best ways possible.
No big flash, no fanfares or luxury. Nothing pretentious. Just a calm, laid back atmosphere and friendly smiles from the locals as we passed by. Alex told me he wanted to start a band blending elements of Shoegaze with classic rock and insisted I learn to play the drums as he had tried but found no luck. String instruments were more him he told me. I told him jokingly if he could come up with a good name, I might be down. He just nodded and looked out the window and started talking about how beef was a rare and more expensive ingredient in Thai cuisine, and I wondered about the sudden random change of subject. Although we had talked a lot during the short time we had known each other, Alex was still a mystery to me in many ways. Judging from all the things he told me he seemed like a person who dreamed big, but never really followed through
An unfinished education. Scribbles on pieces of paper that ended up gathering dust in his drawer instead of turning into a book. A band that never really took off because he lost interest or didn’t deem that it was good enough to get successful. He talked at length about leaving a legacy. It seemed to be something that concerned him. I guess he wanted to put his mark on the world. To be remembered. To live on in some small way. I had never really thought about it myself although I did have a fascination with historical people and the lives they lived. In fact, when I do read I mostly read biographies. I just never had any ambition like that myself. I don’t need the world to know my name, or sing my praises, or remember me. Good friends, family and a sense of freedom and adventure was enough. I had tried to ask Alex about his family and friends back home, but he seemed avoidant and always found a way to change the subject without really providing any meaningful information. At certain points, I sensed a carefully hidden sadness behind his otherwise optimistically youthful and bright blue gaze.
Phuket 25^th of December 2000. 2 days before the tsunami.
Alex woke me up. It was 9 AM and we had arrived at the Phuket bus terminal 1 near Phang Nga Road. We were here. Alex explained to me that the there were several derelict and abandoned buildings perfect for establishing a free of charge rooftop domicile in an area not too far from the resorts of Khao Lak. Phuket back then wasn’t exactly the overcrowded tourist spot it is today, but it was well on the way. I understood why. The scenery was beautiful. Long sandy beaches with small island dots in the horizon, begging to be explored. Giant limestone cliffs covered in green shrubs. It did seem like paradise to me, without being too far away from civilization. I guess despite my adventurous nature, I wasn’t quite ready at that point, to walk into the wild, which is why Khao Lak seemed perfect as a start for me.
We found the area Alex had talked about. Several derelict buildings were concentrated in a small area divided by a main street that if followed long enough, led to an area with shops and places to dine. We set our eyes on what looked like an abandoned apartment complex. It was derelict, rugged looking and it seemed clear at first that no one lived there. Its ghostly façade begged us inside to explore and we accepted the invitation. As we made our way in, through a busted window in the back, we quickly became aware that the place might not be as abandoned as we had initially thought. Several signs of squatters such as cooking utensils and sleeping mats lay scattered here and there. Alex quickly rationalized that it could just be other backpackers, or it could be the people had moved on. I shrugged and we decided to make our way to the roof. We made our way to the top floor and accessed a broken-down door that led directly out onto the roof. I must admit, besides excitement, I was somewhat hesitant. Any doubt I had disappeared when we first stepped onto the rooftop terrace. It was perfect. It seemed it had functioned as a balcony or space of sorts the inhabitants could make use of for gatherings.
The entire space was surrounded by a fence. Several palm trees shaded the northwest corner which was perfect for when things got too hot. In the middle a small shed or janitorial sort of building stood. We found some cleaning materials, brooms, some parasols in there as well as an old rusty grill. The view was great. We could see the large beachfront in the far distance surrounded by limestones. After inspecting the area and finding it to our liking we sat down, and Alex broke out a bottle of whiskey. Unaware of the horror that would later unfold here, we celebrated in the shade of the palm trees. We had found our place for a while. Our place.
After a while we decided to put some money in the local economy and shop for supplies.
Essentials: Water. Cigarettes. Booze. The devil’s lettuce. Cooking utensils. Although none of us was admittedly any much of a cook. But what the hell. Can’t be seen dining out every night when we were trying to live off the fat of the land so to speak. I know, ridiculous. We were squatters. Nothing more. But heck, we would move on if we became a problem for any one here. We weren’t trying to be a bother.
Optional but greatly wanted: A blow-up animal mascot. Maybe a dolphin if possible. Some new music for Alex’s walk-man. A guitar. Decorating artifacts of any kind to make our domicile more personal.
We more or less got everything we needed and started setting up base. Getting our hands on something funny to smoke proved the biggest challenge but Alex finally succeeded at a beachfront bar. Some friendly Norwegian dude who had connections apparently. He warned us against being too open about doing drugs, even if was ‘’just’’ marijuana. Thailand had a strict approach to drugs. We thanked him and he told us to just come back here at the bar if we needed more, he was usually around.
Afternoon was rolling around and there we were. Sitting atop Phuket. On our very own rooftop presidential suite. We decorated the place with a few things we found. Among them ‘’Arthur’’ our blow-up shark (they had no dolphins). Alex had come up with the name, I asked him why ‘’Arthur’’ but in what I had quickly come to know as typical Alex fashion he just shrugged it off. We just smoked a bit and drank some booze as the evening progressed and I told Alex about Robert and Australia and all the nasty things that could kill you there. I’m not sure why, but it had made an impression on me. Insects, rare poisonous creatures, stuff like that was nightmare fuel for me. Don’t even get me started on spiders. Alex was a bit more laid back on that front. He seemed most amused and interested in the suicide plant and wondered if some poor soul had ever mistakenly used it as toilet paper and we had a good hard chuckle over that idea. Poor soul indeed.
As night rolled on stars started popping up on a clear night the sky and I learned that Alex had a fascination with the universe. Particularly the idea of multiverses and infinite universes. What if somewhere out there we were looking back at ourselves. Slightly different but still us. Sometimes it seemed to me he longed to be anywhere else but where he was. Maybe trapped in the past he was so reluctant to share with me. Then we started talking about time. I don’t exactly remember why. I think he brought it up.
Anyway, Alex had a lot to say about time. Like how he believed our perception of time is tied to our experiences. For example, someone who spends their life not stepping up, not really taking risks or chances, just following along the stream, just following the routine, in essence, just killing time, might experience time as having moved fast when they look back, because there are simply less variety, less volume, less memories to look back on. We don’t remember routines, we remember breaking them, we remember doing new things, meeting new people, being in new places. It creates the illusion that gives time volume, that makes it seem fuller, longer. I liked that idea a lot. It made sense to me. Make sure you live life to the fullest and waste as little time as possible.
I told him about my 10^th grade math teacher and how he said something about time I will never forget. Our perception of time can be measured mathematically. For example, to a 4-year-old turning 5 the transition of a year will seem much longer than it will to a 24-year-old turning 25. Because 1 in 5 is a larger fraction than 1 in 25. It blew my mind. The longer you live, the faster time seem to pass. But I agreed with him, maybe the quality and variety of the life you live and the memories you make has an affect too. Alex made a ‘’boom’’ motion with his hands around his head and laughed. We were quite stoned at that point and well, some of you might know how being stoned sometimes throws you into these philosophical conversations. It was nice. I enjoyed the ease with which I could talk to Alex about all kinds of things.
At one point I asked him a hypothetical. If he could go back in time and change just one thing, what would he do. He fell silent. I once again sensed the sadness creeping behind his eyes. It was if he was about to answer, like he was sizing me up but then shot the idea down. Time travel is impossible, so why bother was his only response and I accepted that whatever troubled him in the past, was not for me to know even if my interest only grew stronger and stronger.
I told him about my family. My overprotective mother. My father and his desperate attempts to get me interested in cars. About my older sister and my nephew. Alex nodded and asked the usual polite questions. When the subject came to my little brother his interest seemed to spark significantly. How old was he? Was I good older brother? Did I look out for him? I didn’t think much about it at the time other than finding it curious how interested he seemed to be. When we finally settled in the for night, under the starry sky, I slipped into a nightmare. It was the same I had had years earlier when I was 16. Back then I was having a hard time adjusting to the new school I had started at and maybe because of that stress I was having nightmares coupled with sleep paralysis.
I would lie in my bed, paralyzed. On my side, facing the door to my room. I often had the light on outside of the room and it would shine in through the open door. This one time , I saw dark figure approaching. Optimistically I assumed it was my mom, coming to wake me up. Although as the dark figure approached, I quickly realized this wasn’t so. No words were uttered. The eerie figure just slowly came closer, until it was right by my bed side. It sat down and I realized it was an old woman or man. It was hard to tell, because its face was literally just a mish mash of wrinkled flesh. No eyes and no mouth either. But it mumbled through its mouthless face. Speaking in tongues.
I spent some considerable time afterwards wondering what it could have been trying to communicate to me. I know of course, this was all just my mind playing tricks on me. Yet, that experience was, I suppose, my first nudge towards believing there’s more between heaven and earth than we might know. It seemed aggressive in any case. My insides were screaming as I desperately tried to wiggle myself awake as I had sometimes successfully done during paralysis. I eventually woke up. Drenched in sweat. Back then though, I had actually been in my room, and in the dream the room had stood clearly for me as it actually looked in reality which only made it seem more real. This time, I woke up next to Alex, still drenched in sweat. Alex had woken up. I had screamed in my sleep apparently. He comforted me in an almost brotherly show of affection. It took me by surprise a bit. I appreciated it, though it only made me wonder about him even more. I would have to solve the mystery behind Alex I decided. I would have to truly gain his trust. Figure him out. And I did.
Phuket 26^th of December 2000. 1 day before the tsunami.
‘’Alex played the guitar a bit and I drummed up some beats. It needed some work, but not half bad. We came up with a name for our band to be as well. Subway sleepers. Based on Alex’s time sleeping in the subway of London. It was another hot perfect day on the rooftop. We talked about going climbing the next day and I can’t wait to show Alex the joys of rock climbing. Everything is peaceful here. No stress. Just living life. Smoking it up. Meeting new people. We talked some more with that Norwegian weed dude and invited him and a couple of his friends up to ‘’our’’ place for a party. Another near perfect day.’’
Looking at these diary scribbles is making me feel it all over again. The serenity of those calm worriless summer days (well it was winter back home but it felt like summer here. Strange that) leading up to disaster. Always calmest before the storm they say. This was our last day before everything changed. Before I got a lesson in humanity. In stress under crisis. Before everything I thought I knew changed forever in the meeting with something that surely shouldn’t exist in this world.

TW: SA, Suicide
That was what they said to me, placing a ring on my finger, once they were finished doing what they did to me; see my previous post for further context.
I cannot get over doing that, having multiple dating apps and “options” being explored even when we were together, and then the complete denial of the facts once I called them out. “I need people to call me pretty, there’s nothing romantic about it whatsoever” after admitting to me that they met me whilst they were in hospital recovering from a suicide attempt they’d used to win an argument with their ex. They broke up a day before they met me. I was made to feel so special, but I never was, despite the life I threw away to spend one with them.
I feel like I’m going insane.
Will she ever get better? Will I?

Hey guys, I'm posting this to alert anyone living in al majaz 3, near the waterfront (near Riviera tower) , this incident happened one hour before posting this, 8pm Sunday. I was walking back home from a date with my boyfriend near Costa/Riviera tower, and we saw this guy who looked early to mid 30s, possibly Egyptian (he looked north African tho), he was wearing a purple t-shirt and had headphones on, laying behind a the coffee shop glass and standing in an odd pose (as if he's flexing his biceps) and looked really angry , we glanced at him and continued walking... He started laughing in an unhinged way loudly; I commented to my bf about it and he started gigling all while we're walking. Then this guy started following us, my bf looked back and told me to walk quickly, we took a turn going back home and he still following us. The faster we walk, the faster he walks behind us... We decided to walk in populated paths , yet he was following us and walking really fast. I suspected maybe he was walking in same direction as ours, however when we came close to our building , at this point he was following us for over ten minutes; then he walked in front of us fast, threw a can ( possibly beer) and hit it with his foot angrily, we stopped and just looked at him, he continued to kick other cans/stuff on the floor angrily and walking; eventually he stopped in front of a supermarket near our building and looked at us, waiting for us to try to get to our building to start a fight. I was scared for my bf to get into a fight , because this guy looked drunk and absolutely unhinged ready for a fight. We then went to a nearby mosque, waited for him to leave for about five minutes, we looked back and he was standing near the supermarket still, really angry and waiting for us... At that point, we were contemplating calling the police but nothing happened to excuse calling the cops yet! We asked a guy who was much older and buff to walks us to our building and he agreed, once I got home I looked from the balcony and I can see him sitting behind the building and waiting.
Fyi: we didn't talk nor did we interact with him, he just looked really angry, unhinged and ready to fight for no reason... This is why I and my bf avoided talking or confronting him bc he looked ready to harm anyone in his way... If any of you lives nearby this area, be careful We didn't look long enough face to face to register his face .

Homunculi are made from sperm and other elements without the use of a womb. As such they start out with mature bodies. They start with basic knowledge as well as reasoning in order to serve basic functions in life. Due to all this, they were all effectively immortal and could never age.
A Homunculus has been created very recently. 3 weeks before the seventh servant has been summoned.
Scientist: We have done it! This one! His mana is through the roof! He should be able to win the only grail war no issue!
The homunculus looked at his own hand in disappointment. His name was… Soule.
Soule: I exist to be trusted into a war? Just to give these freaks the powers they wish?
The ones who brought Soule into this world were a group known as “Command” They’ve been trying to enter the holy grail war whenever it happens and win to gain the famous holy grail itself. Yet they either couldn't enter or had their master representative killed.
Soule was created to be a perfect endless pool of mana that would make sure they win. 7 hours after Soul’s complete birth he killed everyone in the lab he was born into.
Soule would find himself in a city. He just walked and walked the uncaring people who passed him but without a second thought, the animals that would shit and piss along what should be a nice concrete sidewalk, and the children who cried at the smallest inconvenience. It all was so foul. Soule hated life already.
7 days before the summoning of the servant servant Soule stood alone in a house filled with the bodies of a crushed 3 person family.
Soule: I summon you, servant. I need you now to follow his goals! YOU WILL SERVER UNDER ME FOR THIS WAR YOU UNDERSTAND?! NOW APPEAR!
And like a call in the great unknown, the unknown answered back with a bright light that went away revealing a talk demonic looking man.
???: I have been summoned… I am Ivan The Terrible your Rider class servant. Do not test me just because you're my master or-
Soule: Or what? You'll kill me? I think you and I both know that you don't want that to happen!
Rider: You dare disrespect me! I shall crush your face in if you keep disrespecting me!
Soule: Wow such a terrible liar! Listen here, you disgusting bastard! My one and only goal is the downfall of all life!
Rider: Then why even bother with this war?
Soule: It's simply a means to an end! I want to know my limits before I kill all on this planet. Is that so hard to understand?
Rider: Very well then. I have few objections to your foolish goal so long as I can have the grail in the end!
Soule: Hey I don't really care! I want to kill all life more personally than wishing them away anyway!
Rider: I can only imagine what spurs such hate in a heart.

Leo: OK time for me to go to school!
Ky: Leo you can't!
Leo: And why not?
Saber: Leo I can not demanifest, unlike other servants due to your low mana. I can't protect and watch over you in school. So you may be attacked by a master while I'm away.
Ky: Plus School isn't that important anyways.
Leo groaned as he did want to go to school to meet up with his friends. He felt as if this stupid war had concerned every aspect of his life.
Saber: I apologize for this inconvenience master…
Leo: That's it!
Ky: Huh?
Leo: Saber! We just gotta get you enrolled at my school!
Saber: Are you sure about this master…?
Ky: And he's lost it…
Leo: Yeah! You don't look any older than me!
Saber: I highly doubt it will be that easy-

Leo’s school at first period. It was that easy.
Saber and Leo sat directly next to one another. Saber not really wanting to be here in this school as a student even if it was to protect Leo.

Standing on top of the school were Soule and Rider. Soule smiled as he placed his hand in a strange sign.
Soule: Ready?
Rider: Yes.
Soule: Summon!
A black Vail appeared around the school almost like a curtain and several skeletons spawned inside the school with various bladed weapons. And then a wyvern spawned appeared behind Soule.
Rider: A wyvern!? That shouldn't be possible! Especially by today's standards!
Soule: My my… I'm just full of surprises!

Meanwhile, Saber and Leo were in the school, and people began passing out. Leo and Saber both got worried and Leo was the first to see the semi-translucent dark veil around the school.
Saber: A Vail! Damn it! A mage must be behind this!
Leo: A mage?!
Saber: A mage is most likely currently awake, unlike the rest of the school! Come on we must hurry!
Leo: Alright! Saber!
She transformed into her armor and held her misty blade tight. The two run off into the way to long and large school hallways. They soon spot a few skeletons trying to attack unconscious students and staff so Saber cuts a few down and Leo destroys the rest with a few punches.
Leo: The heck were those?!
Saber: Seemingly some kind of monsters summoned by whoever has done this master!
Leo: OK then! I think we should try the-
Just then to cut the young boy off Soule and Rider crash through the ceiling. The rubble crushed some of the staff and students to death.
Soule: We found Saber and her master now Rider!
Rider: Killing you will be worth it…
Saber: Master stay back!
Leo: No way I can't leave you to fight alone I'm helping!
Soule: Look at the worthless feelings they share. I suppose the rift raft being as sorry as it is would all group up and care for one another! Rider kill Saber!
Rider charged forward his staff slamming Saber through a few walls into the science room. The demonic servant charged forward with great strength but before Leo could help his servant he received a major kick to the face from Soule.
Soule: Oh no you don't!
Soule then eagerly kicked Leo to the ground and tried to stomp his skull in but the young teen managed to roll out the way.
Soule: Are you done with your silly caring shit? If so fight me! Cuz if you don’t~
Soule’s Wyvern busted through the school’s entrance and into where Soule and Leo were currently.
Soule: You'll die!
Leo: A dragon?!
The Wyvern bit down at Leo who held its jaws open for a moment before Soule appeared behind him transforming the wyvern into a sword that flew straight into his hands to stab Leo in the side of his chest.
Leo: Ow fuck fuck fuck!
Soule would then kick him in the leg before grabbing him by the hair and throwing him into the ceiling above or what was left of it.
Leo was spurring our blood trying to get a moment to grab ahold of his bearings something that Soule shocking would allow.
Soule: See what I mean?~

We cut to Saber and Rider fighting. Rider shoots out several electrical bolts from his staff as fast as lighting Saber easily manages to dodge.
Saber: A nice try Ruder but you'll need to try harder than that!
In all honesty, Saber was worried for her master. The master alongside Rider seemed entirely different from anything she felt before.
Rider: You fight well Saber I can give you that!
Rider would run up and give a surprise uppercut! She spat out a small bit of blood before two lighting shots appeared from his staff blasting Saber into some equipment she threw at Rider on impulse. The equipment didn't hurt him yet it turned into smoke creating a smoke screen for Saber to roll behind Rider and stab him through and back. Yet Rider filled his entire body with electricity that flew through Saber’s sword and shocked the blonde woman herself before an elbow knocked her to the ground.
Saber: Ugh…

We see Leo standing up as Soule walks through his blood on the floor.
Soule: You see brat? You're gonna die. Not like it matters though! After all, life doesn't have a meaning!
He tried to cut off Leo’s head but he ducked under and punched him in the gut making Soule stumble back. Soule tried to kick Leo but he grabbed his leg and twisted it making him fall over onto his face before Leo slammed him into a nearby wall!
Leo then began smashing around the skilled mage all over the place faster and faster! Stronger and stronger! Until Soule cut off his own leg! To hop away from Soule using his one remaining leg while his old one regenerated!
Soule: Rider!
Rider hears his master's calls so he runs toward him at top speed before scooping him up.
Rider: Fine then Soule we leave! Next time Saber! You're dead!
Soule: Until next time we curse each other! You brat!
Soule opened a portal that Rider jumped through and it immediately closed behind him. Saber stumbled out of the science room and over to her master.
Saber: Leo are you alright?
Leo: No…

I think we all deserve answers Abby. For once why can’t you just stop with your nonsense? Do you not realize that there is a thing called public records? You have already let it out that the date of this phone crime was on February 13, 2024. You bragged it was 1 day before Valentine’s Day. So if what you say is true, there should be a filed police report about a stolen phone from you on record that your “stalker” stole your phone with a statement from your Mother as well. 🚨🚨DO YOUR RESEARCH-MOM TOOK ABBY’S PHONE. WHICH RESULTED IN ABBY GOING TO THE HOSPITAL🚨🚨 -As for why you’re not getting battles in the USA? You bought your followers just like Anthony did. You’re not battling them because they are giving you battles out of nowhere. We know that you’re not famous or something in their country; they’re all that come up for you as a battle. You aren’t organic! Anyone can look at your followers and see your account was bought. Any USA accounts that do battle you are few and far between. You keep bragging that YOU GOT #1 six times. No Abby say it correctly please. YOU HIT #1. Say it one more time with me, YOU HIT #1. You have never been #1 in daily ranks. You don’t have a strong solid foundations team to run ranks for 24 hours and win the USA DAILY RANKS!!! 🥇 -My last answers for Abby because I know you are reading this and so is Anthony, stop all the negativity. Not one creator, past or present #1 owes you anything. This isn’t a ♻️gift back program from when you threw them a GIFT! You should really listen to the hypocrisy that comes from your mouth. As you would say Abby, “Nobody is going to tell me who I throw my diamonds to” so why do you think anyone owes you anwers? Your sense of entitlement just makes you look weak. You spewing nothing but hatred towards other creators, telling your females and blue collars not to throw for known big creators, honestly makes you seem unhinged. Abby, there is a reason people are starting to laugh at you. You’re probably going to start crying at all the videos creators post. But don’t worry Abby I’m sure your friend will continue making videos laughing along with EVERYONE in agreement, you’re the laughing stock of TikTok once again. Oh wait so are you Anthony, I didn’t forget about you. Abby makes you look like a weak poor excuse for a man. Anthony you can talk a big game, but when push comes to shove, and you actually are asked to fulfill your battle obligations that you originally called out for you looked like the biggest 🐈 meow. Anthony you should really start battling more or hanging out in Abby’s box because Abby needs grocery money. She said it herself last night. Why not be a real man and get a job Anthony? Will Abby cry if you leave the house? THESE ARE THE DAYS OF YOUR LIFE…Don’t worry Anthony her chat will watch her. Dak can’t right Abby, your non existent service dog. 🐕‍🦺

Trigger warning, mental health topics like suicide. Thanks for reading this. I filed for divorce back in Nov because my husband’s mental health was not improving and he was getting more abusive towards me and his disabled 10 year old son (whom I adopted). We had spent Oct apart to see how a split would be and I felt my like was more peaceful. His mental health continued to decline and this culminated in a bad episode where he screamed and cursed at me then threatened to kill himself in front of our son. I got us out and called the police and they took him to the hospital. After getting out, he was not allowed to see my son other than at supervised visitation locations or to come to the house.
He went out of state to stay with family, then found an inpatient treatment center in Cali. We agreed that I would hold off with the divorce to allow him to use the health ins and focus on treatment full time while I took care of our son and worked full time. During this time, he would still try to flirt with me and say he still loves me, etc. I turned him down and eventually his advances stopped and I hoped he was focusing on recovery. The first treatment center was not good (understaffed, false advertising, etc.) so he then moved to an intensive outpatient center that he had found nearby.
He started saying that he wanted to move to Cali because of state programs and lifestyle. I was annoyed that he would be so far from our son, leaving me with full time care, but he had never been very reliable or responsible. He said he was depressed and his calls grew less frequent. However, I foolishly started harboring a small hope that he would actually get better and come back to our family.
He told me about a month ago that he was being released. He mentioned randomly wanting to move to the same town where the treatment center was located. This bothered me, why there? On the day he was released, I figured it out…there must be a woman. I confronted him and he said he had a gf but they broke up. I was immediately DEVASTATED. Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t understand how he could be so immature and selfish to do this while he was supposed to be focusing full time on treatment. He acted like I was over-reacting and I spent hours texting him and explaining my concerns, such as, what if she ends up pregnant? He continued to act like I was overreacting, that his treatment was not affected, that trauma bonding between patients is common, etc. I pivoted in our divorce to continue requiring supervised visits as I could not trust his recovery. I also started having intrusive thoughts about the woman, who I found out was another patient. I grew extremely jealous. I spent time trying to convince him not to abandon our son and move across the country. We ended up spending countless hours talking and going over our communication issues, he finally apologized profusely, took accountability for fucking up, and was somewhat friendly. He said the relationship with the other patient was toxic and completely over. He said I had made it pretty clear after Oct and by filing divorce that our relationship was completely over, if he had known that there was still some hope, or how much this would have hurt me, that he would have made different decisions.
He arrived back in town on Wed. I spent the evening talking to him, and the is point my desire to rekindle something was embarrassingly full tilt, he was soo much calmer and collected but also very distant. We spent more time together and I grew more confused. I finally confessed to him yesterday that I wanted to try and see if anything was left of our relationship before filing the final papers. The extra draw to it for him would be the financial stability and support I am capable of providing. We talked on the phone and he said it was all too fresh and too much, as I have the house he is basically on the verge of being homeless and is jobless. But he said he was open to discussing it further.
Fast forward to last night, he exercised a supervised visitation with my son and we talked briefly after. He told me he needed to tell me something, that his ex-gf from the facility was indeed pregnant. I almost threw up. I am 38 and wanted kids with him, but our relationship was never stable enough emotionally or financially to try. I asked if she was going to keep it and he said at first no but now she was changing her mind. She is still a patient at the treatment center and is there bc of a recent suicide attempt. The whole thing makes me feel so ill.
The icing on the cake was last night, when he indicated that he had stipulations for getting back together with her. When I wanted to get back with him he was unsure (he already knew she was pregnant), but potentially wanted to go back to her. That was the final straw for me, I really lost it on him. He was already thinking about abandoning his living son to go live with this woman, now they will have a baby. But now I can’t sleep or eat or do anything. My life feels like a Jerry Springer episode, but I am a responsible, kind, hardworking person who did so much for my husband for years, including saving his son from his abusive, drug-addicted, ex-wife and raising him as my own. I know I made choices here too that led to this mess, but I have never felt this hurt and lost before. I am trying to seek out more therapy, etc, but nothing seems to be helping yet.

Hi. I have not written anything in a while so if this is choppy, bear with me.
I’m nonbinary (AFAB) and use any pronouns. Your age or gender or country doesn’t matter to me. I love speaking to people very different than me.
I have suffered from a lot of anxiety and avoidant behaviors most of my life, which led to me being a shut-in internet addict for years pre-COVID. In my adult life now, I find it very difficult to connect with others. But I love people, I love observing their little quirks. I love getting to know their stories, I often wonder about their inner dialogue and dreams and all the experiences they’ve had that led them to the same place and time as me.
But anyway, I’m very much a late bloomer and I’ve only been integrating back into society for about 3 years now. I’ve made lots of progress, and friends of some sort. But I feel very lonely. I mistook this for a different loneliness and threw myself into romantic relationships. I’ve realized that, the entire time I just needed friends. I just craved connection. To be seen. To see. Real connections, that are intentional.
Everyone in my social circle seems to be fixated on Twitter and the idea of “mutuals”, preoccupied with dating apps and the latest situationship. I adapted to this, but I find myself always feeling empty, and lately that doesn’t feel like enough to me.
I crave something different. I crave something sweeter, something intentional, something wholesome. I want to feel like apart of it all. I know the life I could live, I know the capacity for connection I could have, I know it’s out there.
I use to read my grandmas letters and postcards often, and I’ve always wanted to do the same. I find it so sweet that two humans in different places take the time and effort to tell each other about their lives and what they’ve seen, and send little photos. It’s beautiful.
With that being said, I’ll tell you a bit about me so maybe we can have common interests to build off of.

• I’m a self taught musician. I never performed beyond for friends and family, it’s more of a therapeutic thing for me. I have been asked to play for my best friend’s wedding though, which is very scary. I’ve played guitar for over a decade, I love trying to pick up other instruments too.
• I enjoy music a lot. I use to collect records, and would one day like to get back into it. Some of my favorite artists currently are Adrianne Lenker, Faye Webster, Indigo De Souza, Boygenius, Julia Jacklin. I love finding new music, and making playlists. I’d love to eventually burn CDs and make physical playlists for people I’m close to.
• I don’t watch a whole lot of film, but some of my favorites are After Hours, A portrait of a Lady on Fire, and I really enjoyed Love Lies Bleeding. I’m currently watching the series Normal People.
• I don’t read and haven’t in a long time, however I want to change this. I have a list of books I’d like to read.
• I work nightshift, a very repetitive and menial postal job.
• I love nature but stay inside way too often because my avoidance with being perceived by others and living in a city. When I lived in a rural town, I loved being outside. I’d really like to push myself to go to parks, hiking, lakes.
• I enjoy learning about “practical” and handy things. I use to go to welding school and enjoyed it very much. I did a construction pre-apprenticeship too. There’s a lot that I don’t know but it’s an interest of mine. I love learning about the trades and how we sustain our shelters. I love architecture and landscaping and spaces that feel beautiful to be in. I also have a special interest in learning about the construction of cob houses, and would LOVE to do a workshop one day.
• I love learning overall, about anything. But I’d really like to learn how to garden and cook. I also bake from time to time, but haven’t in a while due to housing insecurity.

Anyway, I can’t think of much else and I feel this is already a bit lengthy for an introductory post. If you feel the same, and like we may have some common interests, please reach out. Thank you :)

TLDR: I’m pretty sure Feliway Multicat caused my cat to continually vomit and stop eating.
Hey y’all, just curious to know if anyone else has experienced this before. My sweet raggie girl and my kitten are working on integrating together into our shared spaces. The vet recommended Feliway Multicat to support a smoother transition. Side note: I had tried the calming spray with her before because she’s a very shy/anxious girl, but she seemed averse to it oddly, but didn’t think much of it and just stopped using it. I figured the Multicat was a different pheromone so maybe it would work.
So fast forward a year, I got this multicat diffuser. I had it plugged in about 24-48hrs, and suddenly Misu my raggie starts vomiting. At first I thought she may have just eaten something yucky or was having a bad hair ball. But she continued to vomit 5-6 times that morning, just bile, and didn’t eat her dinner the night before. I obviously got really concerned. I called the vet and we decided to monitor her over the next couple hours. Then in that time it occurred to me that she is very sensitive and may be reacting to the diffuser.
So I unplugged it and threw open the windows and opened the door for fresh air to come in. About an hour or two went by and she started eating again and didn’t vomit again thereafter. She’s been fine ever since. I mean it could be a coincidence and she had vomited as much as she was going to vomit and I just happened to unplug the diffuser at that time, but it seems directly correlated. Very odd seeing as it’s literally natural pheromones from cats. But I seriously believe that’s what made her sick. Has this ever happened to anyone else?