I'm 18 years old and I'm so dumb. I cannot even put the words together to explain myself. I don't wanna get help from those successful people who think they are doing pretty bad in their lives, when in reality, they are just tired from working and using their smarty brain at it's full potential. Only thing I know there is something wrong with me and I wanna fix it so I don't waste my life. I went to psychiatrist couple of times, used different medicines but I'm same old me. I feel like those people don't even listen to me but care about only the money. I even went there with a good amount of hope when I had my doubts to go. So. I cannot do anything in life and I cannot help it. I'm suck as a student, a worker, a group leader, a group participant, a daughter...I look some of my old friends who didn't go to collage after graduating high school and I'm jealous of them, how they know what they want and don't want and having a place in society just like that. My family looked at my horrible grades and said to me 'you don't have to do this'. I rejected I said I'll do better next time and that situation went on so much that I lost faith in my academic goals. When I took my uni entrance exam the results were just poor because I didn't study. My family suggested to me that I would go to any collage with those bad results but I had high goals with that poor discipline, so I took a gap year to study again like I would change(I didn't) The math was so hard, paragraphs were too long and I was always so sick to study. Just sitting in that table and doing something was very very very hard for my will. I would just listen to music all day and daydream about studying like that gilmore girl. and when I actually did study it would be just for 2 hours a day(if the topic is so easy) and you guys might say 'yes that's great do it everyday' well that's the problem if I study 2 hours I take 1 week off and not intentionally. I don't know what's happening to me right after that studying I cannot ever be consisted about something. I've been keeping a journal I looked at the dates and they had 1 month gap between them where I always said at the end 'I'll def come back tomorrow, this writing changed me completely' because I was talking to that journal and then I was giving myself advice via writing that journal which never worked out. So I'm inconsistent, lazy, forgetful, addicted, dumb, doing a mistake at least a hundred times and never learning anything from it. I took adhd pills, depression pills and now anxiety because I have trouble going to sleep for a while now. And because all of this and others I attempted su**ide several times in 2021. That last one made my family concerned and they don't let me alone to do it now. I didn't stop thinking about it laters but I said what's the meaning of this. Live to see whatever shi*ty life youre going to have. But now I'm crying writing this. I don't have an abusive household, my country is not in a war, I'm getting my basic needs which is enough yet this mind of mine is going to k*ll me. It's not about just academics, wish I had just one talent or skill that could keep me alive and give me confidence. Because it doesn't look like I'm going to be better at something with hard work. And it would be great if I wasn't this nervous and embarrassed. I just wanted to know if there's someone like me and what do they do about it.

Hi, I am new to RPW but have been reading some books that align with RPW strategies and trying to implement them. My question is - my boyfriend of 2.5 years (32) and I (29) got into an argument last night because I said something that upset him. (We were at a wedding and he and the groom were talking about work and after the wedding I said something like "I really hope I'm not talking about work at my wedding.") He kept asking me to explain what I meant by what I said but this seemed to "ignite" things further so my strategy then became to apologize and say that I did not mean for it to be insulting or hurtful and I totally see where he is coming from (which is true.) He was just overall really frustrated and even with me being soft and playful the situation would not diffuse. I ended up going home and I haven't talked to him since. I am anxiously attached (working on this) so this is slightly triggering for me. I don't think his communication/stonewalling is completely fair during arguments because it seems impossible for things to not escalate. What is the right RPW strategy for approaching this? Should I give him space and ask to talk later in the week, and be curious about what it was that upset him (because that still feels unclear) and communicate that I understand? Should I broach the conversation of what leads to him feeling so shut down during arguments and what I or him can do differently so that we can repair an argument more quickly? I did not have any stake in "winning" this argument and I feel like my demeanor reflected that, so it feels really frustrating when an otherwise great night is ruined by that. Thanks in advance for your advice!

So, pretty much what the title says. My ex (23M) and I (22F) split 8 days ago after a nasty argument. We dated for almost a year (10.5 months to be exact) and even though I wasn’t necessarily miserable I wasn’t exactly happy with him either. He wasn’t a bad guy, but he was really, really immature and simple minded, he never understood the complexity of my emotions or my trauma or anything that I went through and it was obvious from the start. Dude’s most traumatic memory was probably when his parents yelled at him.
He had no deep interests, we never really had any deep interesting conversations, which was a great issue for me. I’m someone that values intellect, I love having someone I could talk to just talking about anything and everything, I was felt like my brain was extremely understimuated with him. Still, I comprised, he was a sweet guy. But the longer we dated the more I realized how flawed he is. He had no emotional intelligence whatsoever, he also hated being confronted when he does anything wrong and would immediately jump on defense and escalate things into an argument.
As time went by I realized that talking about my feelings did more harm than good, and i surpassed my emotions and kept them to myself as much as I could, just to avoid causing any conflict. When we were physically together and intimate, it was perfect. We were so in love, my body loved him, I’ve never felt that comfortable with anyone before in bed. It was beautiful. But then when we’re home texting, it just feels so bleak.
Every time he did something wrong and I’d bring it up, he starts listing all the good things he’s done for me to “prove that he loves me and isn’t a bad guy” and just starts defending himself and shifting the blame, saying “all you do is mention the bad stuff, it’s like you forget all I do for you” and even sometimes mentioning all the money he spent on me (which by the way is not a lot, we never went on fancy dates, the most he’d pay for me is a drink or lunch, which is an insane thing to hold over someone’s head)
Sometimes if i say simple jokes or tease him he’d get really offended and take everything as a personal attack, and I’d have to spend the whole day apologizing. It was so exhausting. I couldn’t talk about my feelings, couldn’t make jokes, and had to think about every thing 200 times before I say it. He’d keep reminding me of the things he’s done for me, “i don’t hang out with my friends anymore since we dated for you” (I never asked him to do that), “I ditch my family on occasions for you and they gave me shit for it” (again, never asked for that), “I payed your ER bill that time because i love you, and it was the last bit of cash I had that month so I was broke for the rest of it” (seriously? I’m sorry I was sick..?) I told him that it bothers me so much when he does it, and he never stopped. Every argument, I’d hear about the never ending things he has done for me.
He wasn’t understanding at all, it’s my last semester in uni and I’m an engineering student, I’m under an insane amount of pressure with labs and coursed and applying for internships and my grad project, along with dealing with some family issues, and yet if I wasn’t so happy and giddy all the time I was being a bad girlfriend and not giving him enough love. I just needed some support and patience. Every time I tell him anything about myself or my life it felt like he was hearing but not actually listening.. It felt so dismissive. He promised me a dozen of times that he’ll change and become better for me, but it was all words. I think now, that maybe that’s all he had to offer, maybe that was just his extent. Maybe he couldn’t do more because there’s nothing there..
Last time we talked, he was complaining about a thing I said the day before, and even though it sounded harmless to me it greatly offended him, I apologized the night it happened and it still wasn’t enough, so I exploded. I told him about everything he does that makes me unhappy, I told him all the things he did that felt manipulative and all the times I felt exhausted and so conflicted on why I’m even in this relationship anymore. I told him I needed him to stop acting like a manchild and to start acting more logically and realize what he’s losing by pushing me away like this. And all that did was make him angry. He took it all as an attack and started to attack me back, he called me lots of vile things. He told me he doesn’t want advice from “someone as mentally ill as me” and that “I’m too insecure so how can I love him if I don’t even love myself” (these things had absolutely nothing to do with our conflict and he only said them with the intent to hurt me) then he started calling me toxic and negative and that I keep sucking the joy out of his life like a mosquito.
When I read those texts, I didn’t feel angry nor sad, I didn’t cry or insult him back or anything. I calmly ended things and just got off my phone and started at the wall in shock. I felt soo disrespected. I really felt something snap inside of me. Ever since then I’ve barely thought about him, and when I do I don’t feel anger or hurt, I only feel disappointment in myself for letting someone like him disrespect me this way.
Now I only feel relief, I always had this feeling that I deserved much better, that he will never be enough and that I need more, but I chose to ignore it for whatever reason. I’m glad he did what he did because now I see his true colors. And they’re so ugly. Just an insecure yet egotistical manchild that is so in love with himself that it’s all he can ever think about. There was no space for me in that relationship.
Sorry for the long read, I just needed to get this off my chest and I didn’t want to bother my friends with it anymore. :3

Just need to vent and hear what it's like for others i guess
My parents ignore me for months at a time, we talk maybe 2-3x a year unless something serious happens or the rare medical/insurance emergencies that they barely financially helped me with - and we all know why - bc otherwise they try to put me on trial for why I'm not going to meetings, its nothing but a power trip where if i plainly stated the obvious then i would be disfellowshipped. What a fun way to live life. I know this is my own fault for fading, so you brave souls who publicly dissociated ,i fully admit you're better stronger people than me. This is mostly to ask other faders if they experience the same.
Occasionally one parent calls me and plays confused asking me why i never call them (even tho they barely call me), guilt tripping me about how they're getting older but leaving out the obvious fact that it's bc of the stupid religion, obviously trying to pull out of me to say it first - even tho they know perfectly well they just get offended and nasty if i even talk about anything to do with the religion. So i just politely try to change the subject but just said idk i wish it was different but it's not up to me, bc saying anything remotely to do with religion and my childhood will obviously just trigger their furry. This is so immature that I'm embarrassed that it's what my adult life has become. Especially when I'm their victim from years of abuse and they're clearly just trying to flip that.
A few times when i was younger i caved and started to bring up things that bothered me about the organization - that we didn't ever help mentally ill, give to charity or homeless but other "worldly" churches do(believe it or not that's my biggest problem with the org - all churches lie but we're the only church that just leeches money but never actually helps anyone, that's why it's a cult to me), that people died not getting organ transplants or blood transfusions before those rules were changed (the main death doomsday cult proof to me), that black people weren't allowed at bethel in the early days despite god not being racist (if a cult didn't even want some of you and you still try to get in, how pathetic can you be after learning that and staying?), hell i served at bethel for Christ sake and obviously there were plenty of shitty people/policies/pedophillia rumors that bothered me - but i could never even get half these words out of my mouth before being cut off with the "imperfect organization no matter what routine", so there was no point in discussing the religion directly.
So i just started telling them the truth - that the world is expensive and I'm working/schooling just trying to survive, so I don't have a choice (even if i wanted to). When i was in school it was a pretty powerful answer bc they knew that their parents paid for their school so my struggle was their fault that i was working full time and schooling since they refused to help me pay for anything bc they knew the organization says not to do higher education - yet they also like to lie and say it doesn't say that and they never told me that - gotta love those blatant obvious double lies - that's how i know they're partially aware and just use the religion as an excuse to be shitty parents.
But when i was forced to drop out due to finances, they of course immediately went to " that's in the past" and would kept pushing. So i would just ask them why their parents didn't want them to be witnesses and yet didn't hate them or disown them for it, and didn't push their childhood religions back on them - so why did they treat me differently ? That of course was too reasonable , so it of course made them furious and say cruel things or hang up. But then my grandparents all died so i stopped bringing it up and just change the subject when it comes up to prevent an argument - at this point I'm well into adulthood so i should be allowed that right? - but then they just gossip about me and get other old witnesses/relatives to reach out and subtly grill me as if i don't know it's from them and reporting right back to them.
Whatever, this is what i wanted right? The "normalcy" that the cult tries to rob you of? All "normal" families disagree and guilt trip each other about religion right? At least if I'm not disfellowshipped I'm not letting a cult dictate my family relations right? All "normal" children make excuses on why they haven't called enough or been to church lately right? As long as i don't go off on them about how stupid and evil of a fucking cult this bullshit is, then i prevent the cult from taking normalcy from me right? But with how shitty and cruel my own family acts and how other witnesses only reach out when it was from gossip anyway, i often forget the point of why i did this now. I guess at least i don't have to wonder if i would have missed my family if i had dissasociated - now i KNOW how low and shitty my own family is and that they would never have eventually come around or even genuinely ask me how I'm doing as a person even when they have the option - they just don't really care about me, the cult just gives them an excuse to make it official if they want. Some of it is how cults warp the mind yes, but they're honestly bad people objectively for violently abusing their own child under the excuse of "spare the rod" , turning the other way when their toddler was sexually molested by a witness since they were just a tween too and being cruel about fading even tho their parents weren't cruel when they left their religion.
Idk, i guess this is just finally regretting fading, but how would i have known?

To start this off with a little backstory. Around the time our newborn hit 3 weeks old we moved her to formula because she wouldnt latch, i wasnt producing enough, she wasnt gaining weight, and it was taking a tole on my mental health. We started her on the liquid form of Similac 360 total care and after about a week we found it was more price efficient to get the powder kind. Well when we did she began spitting up a lot. While being fed and even an hour after being fed she would be laying down and spit up formula. We brought it up to her pediatrician and they first suggested keeping her upright for 20 minutes and said she was starting to gain weight which was great.
A thing to note is our girl is really good at refusing a bottle. she has been bottle fed since we left the hospital and if she isnt hungry she will not open her mouth for the bottle nor drink from it.
Her spitting up continued even after keeping her upright for 20 minutes. We continued to bring it up weekly (she was going weekly for her weight) and at one point they put her on Famotidine. Its hard to say if it worked or not but eventually it stopped working and we were right back to the same issue. So then the pediatrician put her on Similac Alimentum and she got excessively fussy and had dark green diarrhea. The only thing that would get her to calm down was being put in her swing with white noise and her paci. Even then sometimes she wouldnt calm down. It lasted maybe 4 days. So then we moved her to Enfamil Gentlease because we had a can that was given to me when i was pregnant. Within 4 hours of starting that every single bit of fussiness was gone. However, we were back to the spitting up issue and diarrhea. It just so happened that when i took her in for an appointment she had a dirty diaper and the pediatrician decided to test it for blood. They also told us to put her on enfamil nutramigen and they upped her dosage of famotidine. We were told wed be given a call if there was blood. So a week goes by and we dont hear anything. On Saturday she vomitted 3 times during a feeding and we decided to move her back to the gentlease because we hadnt heard back and it didnt seem healthy for a baby to vomit 3 times in one feeding. I call that monday about her still spitting up and she vomitted on the nutramigen and the doctor finally calls back to tell me that there was blood in her stool and to put her back on the nutramigen. Keep in mind the doctor knows at this point that she vomitted on it. They also switched her medicine to Nexium. So we put her on that again and that night her stool had went from runny dark green to clay like and greenish white. We went to the ER because that worried us plus she vomitted again. They told us to call her pediatrician the next day and get a recommendation for a gastroenterologist. We get a recommendation and i go ahead and call them instead of waiting for them to call me. The earliest appointment anywhere was june 3rd which at the time was 3 weeks out. Well the lady at the front desk went above and beyond and mentioned to the doctor about the blood and they decided they could fit her in the next day. So we go and were expecting maybe some blood tests to see what caused the blood. Nope. They asked us a few questions looked at her body and said she needed to gain more weight (at this point she has been steadily gaining weight at every single appointment) So they sent in the nutritionist told us to make the formula a different way and said we could give her the medicine twice a day instead of once. We were also told for the hundredth time that it can take up to 3 weeks for a babies body to adjust to new formula and clear out the old. After every single formula change her stools have changed within 48 hours and been consistent after that. We decided we would stick with it for those 3 weeks and if nothing changed then we were going to get answers. well her stools moved to diarrhea again, her diapers became to where they barely had any pee in them (she would fill diapers before), and she started eating less. So we went back to how the formula was before and now she is spitting up clear liquids, she vomited 2 times during a feeding, has diarrhea, and spit up a few times.
We are at our wits end with this merry go round that feels like no one is listening. i understand that there are steps to this but everything in me is telling me she has something wrong with her. whether it be an allergy we dont know about or something else. Has anyone experienced anything like this or any advice from your experience with it?

TLDR husband beat up some guys that were harassing me, not sure how to deal with the feeling of not knowing who my husband really is anymore.
My (41f) husband (39M) has always been a gentle giant. He's 6 foot 5 and well over 18 stone, bit of middle age belly settling in but I love it and him. he's big and broad and abnormally strong in my view.
We got together at 19 and 21 and I have always known him as the biggest softest lump. Our daughter (14f) loves to wrestle dad and if I join in too we were pretty sure we could take him between us. He dotes on our pets and even though he didn't want to get dogs he now takes them everywhere with them. He talks to them, the cats and the pet hamsters in a baby voice sort of thing and I have seen him break down in tears over our pet cat who to be fair chose him over everyone else. I'm trying to paint a picture of this hairy marshmallow I chose to live with.
He has always been protective though, I don't think it's conscious for him but if someone gets confrontational with me or our daughter he steps in front of us. Once or twice in our lives a guy has got loud and aggressive while he is there and his whole demeanour changes, it's a bit like his hackles go up. His voice changes and so does his face. I can't really explain it but it's enough that they always back off.
When someone is an asshole to him though without me or our kid involved it's like he just rolls over and takes it. I'm often annoyed at the way he let people speak to him sort of thing. He says he hates confrontation and would rather walk away.
Anyway that's been our life until last week.
We were doing a bit of evening shopping, boring stuff for him so he went to meet someone to pick something up off marketplace, nothing new there he's a bit of a nerd for old comics and stuff
I stupidly in hindsight walked back to the car, it wasn't really dark so I didn't think much of it. 3 guys tried to mug me i guess, they wanted my handbag and I didn't want to give it to them as the car keys were in there, it's a bit of a blur as next thing I know I got punched in the mouth for saying no, it wasn't too bad but left my ears ringing, I was more concerned about my daughter though.
Anyway I guess my husband had chosen that moment to walk the same path as us. I'm not sure what the noise he made was when he saw me get hit but I remember the horrible loud slapping noise as he punched the guy that hit me in the side of the head.
The only way I can describe what happened next is watching 3 men stuck in an alley with a bear. I couldn't describe it as a fight, more of a mauling that I think lasted about 20 seconds but he really hurt them, you could almost feel the hate pouring out of him as he attacked them.
I remember feeling a bit wobbly as he ushered us back to the car after and him driving but his hands were shaking so I think he was struggling to drive a bit. My daughter was upset that someone hit mum and I guess shock
We haven't reported anything to the police because we rely on my husbands income as a family but I'm terrified of a knock on the door.
I don't know what to do now, I have never been scared of my husband before and I feel like I am being unfair to him but I am a bit. Last week we were play fighting and laughing and managing to pin him him down...
He has apologised more than once for the way he acted as I think he can tell somethings up. Logically I know he was protecting us but I can't shake the..shock I guess at seeing him do that.
Has anyone else been through something like this and looked at your husband like someone you don't even know? How do you get past this feeling?
Posting on a throwaway account for a number of reasons

My LIfe Is Worth More Than 36 Apples I was am a sole from this point on. The moths of darkness just began a fetus in the woumb. Both mother and father have litle knolige of my existance my begening is heare hethy with nknone emosion untill I was sliced from my mother. My parents fell in love with me from the begening little did they know that tere was somthing wrong. It was not there falt I think that I loved them at that point to. I was dieing. My heart broken by imprefection that only flesh offers to the potentialy imortal relm of God placed soil named Earth. Spoler alert I servive otherwise you would not be reading this. One day out of my life I fely horible sick beyond what the doctors had already fixed I was dieing still alive but dieing why they “forgot” ( neglected) to tell my parents that I have a paralised vocla chord is beond even my ant’s comprehencion and she is a sergical nerce. What made them fear my parents? What made them fear so much that they could not tell my perents what hppened? I ask these questions so often that I wonder why I servived. That is when one day out of my life I felt amasing like God was truly there to witness me changing to somthing worth more than any dimond in the world. My parents kept me alive by questining the doctors did so little. My grandmother prayed so much I wonder how I survived. One day of my life I felt horible Thank the lord that I was not dieing my great gradfather was putt to sleap in his grave I now have a feading tube one year old no birthday cake for me. I gess that there is where my life chages yet again. I wonder how I survived. One day out of my life I felt Exuberant I am two years old ,Birthday cake ;-) Yay, my first ever the tube is gone. My parrents still wotty but they realy don’t have to any more until laiter. Gram is there. So is most of my family. I love my gram so much at this point I would taher be at her houce than at home there is so much I still have to live for. One day out of my life I feal loved I am at home having fun with my gram telling her stories that I make up as I go along. She loves me I know it in my heart. There are not enugh words, colors, and sounds to describe what I felt in this world at that moment for my little mind to wrap its gentle fingers around I am less than five years old so the only resion that I remember is a home movie. It is a wonder that I survived. One day out of my life it is near cristmass I could be five but I am not certan I thaught tis memory a dream until my mother told me the story. I was sick enugh that my parents thaught that I was dieing. I had an ear infection, pnumonya, and somthing elce my mother can not remenber. I wonder why I survived. One day out of my life I am still five and going to kindergaden I love to run around and hide out undeneath the slides if only I knew what the world was than I probabley whould not have kissed a boy on the lips so soon. I shold have knone that such an act as this was for the day of prom or highscool. I was definatly not ready for being in love, nor was I ready to kiss boys impishly under the that particular Emitsberg Elimentery slide. The boy’s confusion was so great that I belive he ither liked me or he did not know who I was to tell the teacher what had happened. Ither way I grew up way to quikly and at the same time to slowly for my mothers liking. I would barly clean my room thak the lord for her patince at this poit in my life, other wise I woder how I did survive. One day out of my life I was in first grade imaging what life would be like on the moon. I was listening to the teacher but I could not for the life of me was i being sent to lern how to read and wright when I already knew how to do both of those things. What where they thinking I neaded more help with math than with reading and spelling I could study those wordes and sentance structures. Why did they chose to give me exta practice in my faverite subject the only problem I had was telling lowecace B’s from lowercace D’s until a nice teacher taught me a trick invalving the word bed. Putt your fingers on your left hand so that it resembles a lowecace B than have your fongers on your right hand resemble a lowercace D place coth hannds together and make a bed B.E.D. that was somthing that realy helped it was so ingraind in my nogin that after just that one clarifacaition I had the difrence betwean D and D down pat. I read Juny B. Jones boks up the wasoo after that and most of my class was reading picture books that where to easy so I stoped reading them. I didn’t check out books from the scool library because I had books at home to read if I remember corectly. My parents sau that it was the comprehensin part I gess that I understood the book’s meaning but not the questin of “ How did the caractar change throughout the story?” silly me I putt ( this is acording to my mother) “The carictar did nit change throuout the story. There is no mension of her getting dresset,” I wonder how I survived. One day out of my life i am repeating first grade. I thaught that there where only two years of school I thaught that if i passed this year that i would not have to go to school any more nobosy told me otherwise because i kept the thaught to myself because i was so sure that I was corect that I did not tell a sole nor, angel, not even God, but I gess he knew that anyway even without me telling him. I gess that if God dose laph that he might have been lafing at me and I would laph with him once I came to realise my childish ignerance at the age of seven and a half. I realy do not know why I relised that particalar fanticy was falce but I gess that visiters from the fith grade shook that idea right past my young lips and took me from that faticy I was somhow living in at the time. As I wright this I am sitiosly remided of that anoying yet cachy toon of the Caillou theme song whn it said “ Growing up is not so tuff…” I would like to add to that paticular snippit by saying that being or fealing grown up is the hard part. Thank the lord I was still just growing up at this point otherwise I have no clue of how i would have survived. One day out of my life I learn that Gram is moving to West Bend I was so confused because I remember saying to her that “ we will live togther forever.” than she aked me with such a look upon her face that surly I had no anser to this “what if I move?” my anser to this of corce was “we will move to” I loved my grandmother so much at that point that I thaught that my parents not looking for a new houce was a betrayel of what was going on until... One day out of my life I find out that we are moving at first I thaught that this would remidy the we will live togerhher forever situaiton, but it just only remidied the if you move we move situaiton. This was just after I found out that we where moving from Airshire to Ankeny instad of to West Bend this is in ither late may or early june we are looking for a place to live we looked at some two story houces but we came upon this nice single story ranch it is a nice place to be but I wish that I did not tell the reliter that I “ felt at home here” honestly there where less pressing matters of where we would be going to school and how long it would take to move all of our stuff to the new place that I would have to call home but I never realy did in my heart Gram’s houce was my true home from that point on. It is a wonder that we suvived. One day out of my life it is june 16th my birthday I have just terned egiht years old and this is just the begening of when I have started to really pray and recognise what prayer is to me I don’t realy expect God to answer me at this point in my life becase I reay did not know that God could truly anser quite directly or even ask of you things. I just thaught that God knows everything so he realy should no have to ask but I gess that even God has set rules for himself in promisess and fofilment of priofficy. The idea is that we have free will and he wants to ask and not tell us to be with him in spirit and in mannor. Our actions not telling us yes or no but how we feal about those actins threw God tells us these things. Concince and temptaition those little caton figures angel and demon with that tridant ( not the chewing gum brand) and tail. Oh how I have survived. One day out of my life the start of second grade a new school and a new life I wish that there where more interesting things to take apart than a phone with an already broken circut bord smashed by a bou in my class if not for the surcut bord I probubly would have figured out how to putt it back together. How I wondered every day when I would get to take somthing apart and putt it back together, but everthing was altready taken apart and I neaded a more than a philups haid screwdriver to fix that phone what I neaded was somthing I had no ideah existed littlelone the fact that I was way to youn to even use a sodering iorn. The teachers still thaught that I was still to young to hold a pair of sisors even though I started using them in preschool. It is a wonder I survived. One day out of my life I am exited I get to learn how to use chopstickes in class wile eating popcorn we where not aloud to use our fingers. We where at the end of our china unit coloring the great wall with lopsided bricks that where supost to be a little lopsided. I was exalent at using the two sticks to pick up the popcorn the only problem was that I was holding them wrong but at least i did not nead a rubberband atached to the se sticklike utencels. Using my middle finger as a fulcrum and my pionter and ring to manipulate the top stick even until I saw the diagram and did so the proper way. How did I survive? One day out of my life it is nearing first comumyon this is my fist time tasting the wine so that Iwont makew a face if I did not like the way it tates. I thaught that it tasted horible even though I took a small sip as instructed. I did not make a face. How did I survive? Oneday out of my life it is first comunyon I take both the host and the wine this time I like it so much I take a big gulp and make a face. When my mother asked me why I took such a big gulp I told my mother that the whine “ tates better with Jesus in it.” my mother laphed so quietly only her ears and a few others herd her. I wonder how we survived. One day of my life I am now about 9 or 10 years old Great grandma took me fishing and taught me how to imbroider that night i could not sleap for some reason or another so I got out the cloth that I was working on and started stichin gI was so quiet that I thaught that I would sutly not wake her than again the light in the livingroom of her apartment could have given me away. She found me awake and unable to sleap soundly I was not homsich and usualy did not complain but the couch was a tad to cushey so I slept on the floor instad she thaught that I was crazy for sleaping on the floor instad of on the couch. It is a wonder that I survived. One summer out of my life I felt human I can not remember what summer this was but I taught my sister how to swim she wanted to jump into the pool and each time that se jumped I would take just a single step back evedently she lernd to jump quite far also because when she went to her first formal swimming lesson she kept taking off the floaty until she threw it so that the instructher could no longer reach it than when it was her turn to jum into the water she abot flatenes the instructer ling sory short she skiped a few levils. I wonder how the poor swim instructor is doing. It is a wonder that he survived my syster. One day of my life I rode my first rolercoster I was so exited that I could barly wate in line when we finaly got to the front of the lighn the rolercoster took us up and down I could barily understand why all the other peaple on bord where screaming eve mu unkle. When the ride was over I aslked him so tentitivly why where the other peaple skreaming? Than he told me “Because they where having fun” I still had no ideah

Hi everyone. I'm a 34 male married with a 42 female, and we have a 2 years old daughter. Our relationship has had many ups and downs, but in the past 6 months it has reached massive levels.
I start by saying that I think my wife has a personality problem, but every time she sees a doctotherapist and they tell her something, she says the doctor was bad and she changes them. Every single time there's an issue she calls for divorce and she says she is going to take house and daughter from me.
About 6 months ago we went to my country (we are from 2 different countries and live in a third one) and one day she choose to leave the house and leave me. Ok. Then at this point, as I had to work, I went to my mother's house (20 minutes away) so she could help me with my daughter while I was working. Wife starts to say she'll call the cops because I was kidnapping our daughter, so I took her back to her. I then spoke with my lawyer, and after some days he said to try to go back to the country we live as wife said she would have seen a doctor.
As soon as we got back in the country I had cops waiting for me as she accused me of abusing her and our daughter. And that's completely false.
Now after some time passed, she seemed more normal and things went back to normal, for a while.
Yesterday she got mad at me because we struggled to get a taxi to go back home (and she knew we would have even beforw we went to that place, as taxis cannot really come over there). Then she proceeds to tell me I'm a piece of shit, that it was my fault and all things like that. Once we got home she wanted me to sleep in another room, and refused to let me use Aircon (it's super hot here). Today she says I have to leave or she'll call back the cops.
In all this, I'm really frustrated. I've just lost my 3rd job because of her (once she called at work, I don't know what she said to my supervisor, but I got fired. Last time I was working and while I was working she was coming to drop off on me our daughter, putting me in a situation where I could not work. She did it quite a few times, and when my contract was up they explained they refused to renew it because of these reasons. I knew it would happen if she did not stop, I also told our therapist, but my wife did not listen). Oh, in all this, she wasn't working and she always wanted to have a nanny for out daughter, while she was and still wakes up at 11am every day.
Now. I'm in a position where I feel I lost myself. I'm loosing all the money I'm making as wife doesn't want to work, but wants to live a lavish life while I pay for it, and while I never even go out to don't spend money.
I would love to leave the home, but I cannot stay in this country, as I've lost all the friends when she reported me for abuse (no one even ever came to ask me or talk to me) so I would like to be back in my country where I can have support. But, we have a daughter, and as much as she can't take care of her she's telling me she'll keep her from me and she's going to tell her what a shit father she has.
I spoke with lawyers, and honestly in this country are useless, especially when your wife knows some high ranking people. I feel lost, I feel I'm going to lose my daughter and house, on top of having already lost myself.
Right now I'm also broke, as she spent money for God knows what and Ive had to pay it back, as she wasn't earning. Broke I mean, I can live, but I cannot for sure keep spending thousand of dollars in lawyers.
I'm here venting and hoping in some good suggestion, because I don't know what to do anymore. It seems like I'm dealing with a person that lives on a parallel world. Problem is, we have a daughter, and I don't feel I can leave her alone with her mother. My mother in law has seen her daughter behavior and she doesn't trust her with our daughter either, but no one, other then me, has the balls to tell her something. I really feel lost right now. I can lose the house, but I won't allow to lose my daughter.

Supposed you have had a job for 5-years and one day you go to work and your employer demands you sign documents saying things like "You can't sue them and must use arbitration" or sign a "non-compete" or an "NDA". They are also threatening for dismiss anyone who will not sign the documents.
So here is my scenario. You explain, "You never sign any legal documents without reading them completely and consulting with your lawyer." You then take the documents home scan them, slightly alter them to mute any negative language, sign them, and return them to HR.
HR then dutifully files the documents in your HR folder and checks a box never noticing the document was slightly altered with different language. The switcheroo is complete and you keep a copy of the document for your records.
What would happen if the company thought you violated their terms and wanted enforce the language in the original document? Since you never agreed to it in writing would it be enforceable?
Technically this is a unilateral contract, singed by one party and you are clearly specifying what you agree to, but no necessarily what the other side wanted. Since the other side didn't side I don't see any claim for tampering with the contract since you agreed to what you signed. Also, the company was forcing you to sign under duress since if you don't sign, you lose your job.
Just curious how you think this would play out legally.

I did this today. After a year of depressing ruminations.
Because in my mind it's like I had lost the best opportunity of my life. I had lost "the one". I could never achieve such a great connection again.
But. Then I wrote about the daily, everyday logistics of how our life would look together. It was very therapeutic. Here is a basic summary:
We would have moved to an apartment together. She doesn't cook, or clean, or work. So all of that would have been on me.
I would have had to work longer hours probably doing physical labour to support us.
We would have been stoned all the time. She smokes more pot than anyone I've ever met, and I was all too happy to oblige her. She has social anxiety, and that's the only thing that helps.
She also smokes cigarettes, so I would have had that smell everywhere. And the worry about her health.
I probably wouldn't have seen my family very often. She seemed to not like my family, and avoid anything with my family.
I imagined and then wrote about scenarios where we make familial plans, which she cancels last minute (which she had already started doing when we were together).
I wouldn't have traveled as much. My skills with languages and history would have dwindled. I wouldn't have read many books. We would have watched her shows.
I wouldn't have seen my friends as often. Because of her social anxiety.
We would have stayed at home, sitting around getting high ordering take out. While I work a menial job paying all the bills while also doing all the cleaning and upkeep around the home.
Writing about this in an objective, honest way was quite revealing.
Sure, it was an incredible connection. Dare I even say love. But she wasn't ready for a long-term relationship. She may never be. She can barely take care of herself. She may have taken me down that dark pit with her.
I'm a year out. Maybe if you're very fresh after the breakup, it might not work as well. But I do think this was a therapeutic exercise.
To bring it back to the reality, instead of the imagined "perfection" of what it could have been.

[Part 1]
Day 3
I woke the next morning from the sunshine in my eyes. My head was resting ever so slightly on Eli's arm as we had both fallen asleep on my bed after I begged him to stay. I blanched in horror at the drool stain I had left on the arm of his white t-shirt.
I began to slowly move myself and retreat downstairs as the memories of the night before came flooding back. How I had broken, screaming in terror, and how Eli had saved me, not knowing the true reason he found me curled up on the floor crying.
As I stepped off the bed, my leg got snagged in the frilly bed cover, and I went crashing to the ground, making quite the noise as I landed. With a yawn, Eli's eyes opened, and I felt myself blushing as he turned to look at me.
We both kind of stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again as if unsure of what to say.
"Coffee?" I asked quickly, filling the awkwardness of our situation.
"Please," Eli said, smiling.
In minutes, I had a pot brewing as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Eli was picking up the scattered photographs from the floor and looking at them quizzically.
"Why do you have pictures of the Harmons?" Eli asked, showing me the photos of the yellow-haired man and his family.
"Is that their names? I found them out in the barn under a blanket," I answered as I rooted around the cupboards for two mugs.
"In the barn? I cleaned it out just last week. No way I would have missed this trunk," Eli said while examining the wooden trunk with its simple rustic hinges. It was plain and unadorned with any embellishments. Basic as basic could be.
"Well, you must have missed it because it was there," I said, putting emphasis on the "was" in a way that reminded me of my mother chastising my father.
"That's so weird," he said, shifting through the photos while sitting at the table. I brought him a cup of coffee and sugar, and he began absentmindedly adding a lot of sugar to his coffee. About six scoops later, he began stirring and sipping it.
"Well, anyways, thanks for coming last night. I wasn't myself, I hope you know that I'm not some damsel in distress," I said quickly, like word vomit, and I even chuckled at the end, feeling like a total weirdo.
"What happened anyway? You didn't say last night," he said, putting the photos down in a jumble on the table.
I paused for a moment, considering how to answer. As I sipped my coffee, I stared out into the yard beside the barn where the scarecrow stood, glancing around the edge of the barn, hanging limply in his hole. His appearance once again sad and dejected instead of murderous and terrifying.
"I was just scared, I had a nightmare, and it just scared me," I said dumbly, trying not to turn crimson again under his intense gaze.
His eyes seemed to cut right through my lie, as if he were staring directly into my being before he simply glanced away out the window. We fell silent again, and I filled some moments by sipping my drink. It seemed to revitalize me; the sun and the company made me feel secure.
"Why were you here anyways?" I asked after a moment.
"I heard screaming, so I came running. I live just on the other side of the grass there, behind the barn," Eli said, pointing to the barn out the window.
"Must be really close, I didn't see any houses on the way in," I said, prying deeper into the situation.
"It's actually a trailer, maybe like two hundred yards from here. I was outside getting some air when I heard you scream. So, I came running," Eli said, finishing his cup of coffee and placing it in between us like a barrier, as if he was hiding something.
"Could you, uh, not do that?" Eli asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.
"What am I doing exactly?" I asked, startled for a moment, my stomach doing a sort of flip.
"It's just that you like stare at people. You've been staring at me for like my whole cup of coffee, I don't think you blinked the whole time," Eli said, averting his eyes shyly.
"No, I don't," I said until I realized he was right. I never noticed that about myself.
"Right, well, I've got to go. I am probably going to start painting today, so you might see me in a bit," Eli said, rising and heading to the door.
"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm for only a moment before releasing it like it was scalding hot.
Eli glanced at my hand for a moment, then at his arm, before he, too, blushed crimson.
"I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night, I mean. Well, what I mean is I appreciate it," I said, my eyes downcast in, for some reason, shame. Like he had seen me at my weakest and it weighed on my gaze appropriately.
"It was nothing, besides I didn't get much sleep with your constant snoring," Eli said, laughing at me.
"I so don't snore," I said, swatting at him but unable to control a smile creeping up onto my face.
After Eli left, I felt instantly colder, my eyes kept returning to the scarecrow. I grabbed my camera from upstairs and went out to the yard. I scanned the dirt for anything out of the ordinary. There was no blood, or anything on the dirt where the scarecrow stood just last night. I slowly made my way to the scarecrow, but nothing happened. I snapped a photo of the inanimate object, and it didn't even flinch. I poked it, but all I felt was straw underneath its clothes. I removed its mask, expecting a severed head, but it was just straw. Nothing was here but straw. I dropped the mask on the ground and took another photo proving it was just straw and nothing else.
An idea struck me as I regarded the source of my torment. If I planned to stay even one more night here, I needed to do something about this scarecrow. I rooted around in the barn, a series of tools hung from nails in the wall. On one hung what I was searching for. An old rusted shovel with a dirty wooden handle that was worn smooth from use.
I returned to the side of the barn beside the scarecrow, knowing for whatever reason this thing only came when night fell and didn't react at all when I moved or touched it during the day.
Before my morning coffee had even settled, I began to dig at the dusty earth, loose and easy to dig, it came away in shovelfuls. Within an hour, I had a fair-sized hole in front of me. Sweat dripped from my brow, and when I wiped under my eyes, they came away black from last night's makeup. Glancing at the field of grass and knowing Eli could appear at any time, I decided to head inside and shower. The hot water was a godsend, and I lingered for longer, letting the water drain down my head and back, my eyes closed, trying to forget the images from the last two nights. I should just pack up my car and leave right this minute. But how could I explain this to my family? I decided to go through with my plan and bury the scarecrow. I could last one more night if I prepared for it.
I left the shower and dressed modestly, in another one of my old rock t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I returned to the yard and with a satisfying push, I dropped the scarecrow into the pit. It fell with a nice thud, and I smiled at my power over it in the day; it's just at night when I should fear it.
As I threw the first shovel of dirt back on top, I heard a noise in the grass, and it parted, revealing Eli wearing the same pair of jeans and work boots, but he had changed his shirt to a plain black one. In each hand, he held cans of paint and a brush.
"Should I even ask why you are burying that old scarecrow?" He asked as he came to stand beside me.
"Probably best if you didn't," I admitted, leaning on the shovel.
"Well, I'm going to anyway. Polly, why are you burying that old scarecrow?" He asked, a rare smile coming to his face.
"Because it's been haunting me at night," I said bluntly.
"Mhm, yeah, okay. Fine, don't tell me. I've been meaning to get rid of it anyway, but normal people take things to the landfill," Eli said with a smirk as he turned to the house and began setting up for his painting.
I finished burying the scarecrow and stomped the dirt down flat. I finished my job by moving my car and parking it directly over top of the spot where I buried it.
Eli watched me curiously but didn't remark. I returned the shovel to the barn and went out into the yard. I decided to go for a hike around the property. I needed some time alone to think and unwind.
As I made my way through the grass, it began to confuse me. This had obviously been a large farmland, but how had the wild plants grown in such a thick, endless maze of greenery?
It gave me an eerie feeling, like I was being watched as the grass covered three-quarters of my body, like there would be something lurking out in the grass, crouched low, waiting for me.
After a half-hour or so, I came upon a clear lake, only big enough to be considered an old swimming hole, I thought as I dipped my hand into the cool water.
I took off my outer clothes and decided to go for a swim. I lowered myself in slowly and reveled at the cool water. The pond wasn't deep, but the water was clean. A small rope swing had been hung from a large oak tree that bordered the pond. It also provided a nice layer of shade that made it the ideal spot to spend the day. I floated on my back in the water for what seemed like hours. The day seemed to slip away from me. A small beach of sand sat at one side of the pond, so I lay out in the sun and closed my eyes. The warm day warmed my soul, and soon I felt myself drifting off into sleep.
I awoke to the sound of crickets and darkness. I couldn't believe it. I had slept through the day; the long nights had finally caught up to me, and now I was stuck far away from the farmhouse. I didn't know if my plan with the scarecrow had worked, and this wasn't the place to test my theory.
A full moon lay overhead, casting a silvery glow on the world before me. A sea of grass swayed gently in the wind, sending shivers down it in shuddering waves. I looked around, but I was thankfully alone, just the crickets chirping along melodically as my only companions.
I had to make it back to the house, so I started on my way, my hands trailing along the tall grass. The pale light played easily on the deep green grass. Step by step, I made my way back towards the farmhouse and the barn, throwing caution to the wind, and I started to jog along, anything to get back faster. I would have to find Eli; maybe if we were together, he could stop it like before.
If I thought the field was creepy during the day, by night, it was a whole new world. Every sound made my heart stop for a beat before restarting in protest. When all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping. I dropped to my knees, letting the long grass cover me from sight. Through the strands, I could make out a shape moving slowly through the tall grass, the swish of the plants as it made its passage through them. My heart dropped. Was this Eli looking for me, or was it the scarecrow come for me?
That's when I heard a voice, a voice cutting through the silence. It started off quiet and raspy as it sang an eerie children's song.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me? Run and hide, don't you know that I seek The world it claims that I be not clean When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep. In this world, at night I shall be free. Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
I was frozen to the spot. It hadn't found me, but it knew I was in the grass somewhere. Now, with each word, chewed up and spat out like it was unhappy with it, now it was accompanied by the whistle of something in the air and a slicing sound as it cut through the grass around me.
It finished another round of its song, but now it stood within feet of me, its blade whistling as it cut. I took a moment to ready myself, and as it raised its blade to cut through the grass I hid in, I dashed out of my hiding spot and slammed into it. But nothing resisted me; I fell through it like it was a ghost.
In a tangle of limbs, I landed hard on the ground and tried quickly rolling to my feet. The blade of its weapon pierced the earth beside me. Now I could see it was a two-handed scythe the scarecrow carried, but something was off, its hands were human. Pale milky skin like a newborn baby. I had little time to examine the creature except for the canvas bag over its head. Two large black eyes came out of the slits that leaked a dark red blood like tears.
It screeched loudly and swung its scythe, but it was slow, and I took off through the grass in the direction of what I hoped was the farmhouse.
I completely gave up all pretense of hiding and sprinted as fast as I could without looking back. The grass seemed to part for me as I ran in terror. I was just glad that in high school, I had taken track as it was paying off now.
I could hear the noise of footsteps behind me, but I never turned. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst Something silver flashed to my left, and I tripped over something hard and unexpected. The wind was driven from my lungs as my chin slammed hard into the earth. I scrambled back, trying to escape, but the scarecrow was on me, its blade flashing angrily in the pale moonlight.
I wanted to move, I wanted to fight, but my body was weak and unable to catch its breath, and I lay there helpless as it swung its scythe towards me. I closed my eyes in fear, but I only heard the thud of dirt before I opened my eyes. The scythe was discarded, and the scarecrow stood staring at me.
It seemed to be struggling with something, one hand reached out towards me only to be snapped back to its side. A roar of rage pierced the canvas sack over its head as it struggled against its invisible bonds. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind it, three sets of hands holding it back. One feminine in nature, and the other two must have belonged to children. In a flash, I saw a beautiful woman who looked vaguely familiar with her long brown hair and plain dress.
"Run," she moaned as the scarecrow swung around wildly.
I didn't hesitate and fled, my breath had returned, and while my body still ached from my fall, I powered on, knowing this was the only respite I would receive tonight.
In the distance, I could see a small sheet metal shape; Eli's trailer was slowly coming closer as I ran, and I beelined it for the trailer. I could hear the footsteps behind me again as the scarecrow resumed its chase after me.
I reached the old trailer and banged on the door as loud as I could; I rattled the handle, but it was locked.
"Eli, it's me. It's Polly, please let me in. Please," I begged as I banged over and over again on the door of his trailer.
Nothing responded to me, and the trailer was dark. The single window in the back held no life inside the trailer. From the trailer, I couldn't tell which direction the farmhouse was in the dark, so I fled into the tall grass and crouched low, watching the clearing around the trailer.
While I caught my breath, I watched the scarecrow enter the clearing, its scythe back in its hand as it circled the trailer. When its raspy voice began singing again low and quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me? Run and hide, don't you know that I seek The world it claims that I be not clean When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep. In this world, at night, I shall be free. Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The song made me shiver uncontrollably at the lyrics and the voice; it sounded demented like a crazy person letting their demons out into a nursery rhyme.
I lay perfectly still; for some reason, it couldn't find me. This creature I assumed was all-knowing seemed to have some very human weaknesses. It moved and talked like a human, even had certain body parts that were from a human; it even felt human the way it chased and reacted.
The scarecrow moved on through the tall grass, and I let out a sigh of relief as it lost my trail. How terrifying that beast was. In my pocket was the keys to my car. Eli had told me that the farmhouse was fairly close to his trailer. I had to navigate to the car, then drive as fast as I can away from this place. The fact that I hadn't left already because I was worried about money was insane. Who cares, I could drive to Barb's and demand my money back. Go home and just tell my parents the truth. The whole reason for actually leaving home this summer, why I was actually here in this field shivering uncontrollably in fear. But I couldn't think about that now, not now, there will be time to deal with that later. Now I needed to focus on staying alive, getting to the car, and getting out of here.
I went in the direction the scarecrow had; he knew the land better than I did, and every noise I made in the silence of the night made my heart drop. It took all my courage there and then to take one step forward, then another. I felt like I was going to be sick; my stomach was in knots to where it felt like even if I was sick, the only thing to come out would be only bile and stomach acid.
With each careful step, I made my way closer to the farmhouse and the scarecrow. Through the darkness, I could see my goal, the farmhouse, and the barn. Within minutes, I had made it securely to the farmhouse yard.
My car still sat in the same spot overtop of the hole where I buried the scarecrow. In the moonlight, I could see that the dirt had not been disturbed.
The scarecrow was nowhere to be seen, and I cautiously made my way to my car, my keys in my hand as I approached the driver's door. I hadn't locked the car, and it opened on the first try. I turned on my car as quietly as I could, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Something landed heavily on top of the roof of my car, making it dent inwards slightly. With horror, I saw the scarecrow swing its scythe into the back window of my car. With a crash, the glass shattered inwards; I put my car into gear and roared away down the lane. In my rearview mirror, I couldn't see anything, so I swerved back and forth, trying to shake the creature from the roof of my car when the scythe crashed in through the front window, making a hole just large enough for it.
The glass spidered, and I couldn't see out the window very well. I swerved down the road, but the scythe remained in the car, allowing the creature purchase. In a panic, I spun my wheel wildly, trying to dislodge it, but I lost control, and soon felt something crash into the front of my car. The airbag went off in my face, and I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt. I slammed hard into something else, and my vision went dark. I was in a daze; I must have passed out because I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I felt the car door open with a crunching tear, and it landed loudly as it was torn off. My body being grabbed and tossed on the ground. I felt no pain, just a gentle numbness. I felt blood on my head as I raised my arm to touch my face.
Then just blackness, complete, and empty just feelings, fear, unease, sadness. My eyes opened, and the scarecrow was overtop of me. Pain on my chest and my vision went dark again. Coughing as something poured down my throat. I couldn't breathe, why couldn't I breathe?
My eyes opened one last time, and I saw the scarecrow pouring a dark liquid from its mouth directly into my mouth and eyes. My vision was red and bloody before I closed them one last time.
The words of its song echoed into the emptiness of my thoughts.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me? Run and hide, don't you know that I seek? The world it claims that I be not clean. When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see, Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep. In this world, at night, I shall be free. Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see, When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself slipping away, the sounds of the night fading into oblivion.

If your child is disabled etc whatever you say why are you letting an inbred looking bastard lazy mf call her names and still treat her like shit? How’s that helping c get better one day? Fucking bitch you don’t deserve her if she’s “disabled” tf that requires actual real Parents to help kids with issues. You aren’t one! Rot in hell you and that inbred thing

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

1 Trauma, to consider physical abuse versus self harm;

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

2 To consider mental disorder, probably psychotic - premature dementia

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

3. To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

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

3 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

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

1 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

END

So recently my relationship has felt very cold and quiet. Ive been with my girlfriend for about a year now and the past month or two things have just been mundane and lackluster. At first everything was great, she was cool, holds down a job, helps me with my house, very loyal, great intimacy, everything I wanted in a women. She had some traumatic things happen to her in her childhood that kinda makes her hate most men. Because of these traumatic things our intimacy has gone completely nonexistent over the last 2 months. I don't hold this against her nor is it a deal breaker for me, however, more recently she's also become cold and distant toward me. We don't have those warm conversations or spend much quality time together anymore. We started living together more prematurely than what most people but from the beginning we had a good balance. I've owned my home for a couple years now and its far larger than I need for just me so when she started moving in after only a month or two, it didn't really bother me. I was happy not to be alone in this house anymore. I cover all the bills for the house, food expenses, and basically all of our life needs. She does most of the housework but I still try and do my fair share although it is less than her. Being the financial backbone doesn't bother me, I'm blessed to live as comfortably as I do. and, I'd rather her put her income into her bills like her Car, phone, and Insurance expenses as well as her lavish purchases. Basically I say all this just to give the dynamic of our relationship to you readers as best as I can.
Recently, we've just been disconnected from each other. I've tried to talk about this with her but she really just gets defensive and shuts down on me. She also hasn't really felt comfortable with me touching her in any endearing way like a hug. Which is understandable considering her tragic past. The only conversations that seem to mean anything to her is when she asks me for money for a bill she's behind on, or gas money, or money for a vape. Not only is there a clear lack of communication and intimacy, We also have very different religious beliefs. I'm a devout follower of Christ and she's more agnostic. Again that's not a deal breaker for me, I don't demand her worship to Christ just as she doesn't impose her spiritual beliefs on me, however, I believe my religion has in some way caused her to lose respect for me which I don't understand.
I would be lying if at times I didn't feel as though I was being used for my home and comfortable financial situation. Part of me believes that she's with me because she loves me, and the other part believes that she's scared to leave me because she financially cant.
To the point I've made earlier about how she hates most men, I feel like I've become another man who she looks at with distain simply because I'm a man. So what I'm asking are a few things, Am I going to get anywhere trying? Is it better for the both of us to go our separate ways? Is there an alternative that Im not seeing? Any advice or comment I would appreciate greatly. Thank You
TL:DR- Together a year. Great at first. Bad recently. No sex or quality time. We live together. Im financial backbone. I feel used for my finances. She was abused as a kid and hates men now. is she just using me for money and really hates me? What do i do?

I've been at my new job for roughly 3 months now, I honestly don't hate the job itself. The job seems nice and I'm still in the training stage as the the training lasts about 6 months.
But the the people here are awful. It's very clicky but there is only one click in the work place. And if you don't fit, you're an outsider. There's one girl who is shunned out of the work click that EVERYONE talks about. They all say they hate her and how she's horrible at her job. They make sneers and say phrases like "don't be a [insert name]". Even the supervisors do it. Mind you there's only roughly 10-20 people who work there but still.
The people here are fake too. They act as if they can read people. For example, they are constantly trying to tell me I'm appearing one way when in reality, I was just hanging out being neutral.
We were in training class and I was just listening the the instructor. I was getting what he was saying (he had been going on and on about the same thing for roughly 20 mins) and he looked at me and said I looked confused and asked if I needed clarification. I responded saying I understood what he was saying and that I wasn't confused and he dismissed me by saying that he could just tell by my face that I was too shy and was still confused by something and proceeded to continue to explain as if I didn't say I understood him.
It's almost gaslighting how theses people are. They've got a inferiority/superiority complex and feel like they know people so well when I think they really don't.
Also, the two people I'm training with are the biggest mean girls ever! Like they've walked out of some trashy early 2000s high school TV show. They talk shit about EVERYONE. Someone says anything and they're smirking and giggling about how weird that person was. For a normal human interaction. And I can tell they HATE me. They're very fat phobic, both weighing maybe 115 pounds each. I'm here weighing 170. And they've made it a point to let me know. They've constantly mentioned how worried they would be to gain weight (we sit in a chair at work all day) and how it would be the worst. They talk about how the people here must not go to the gym and every time they mention a person, they have to bring up if they're fat or not. And they've commented on how shocked they were to see me eating apples and carrots and other veggies. Yes. I'm chubby, but I eat healthy. I have health issues that make losing weight difficult.
I'm honestly just hating it here. Not because of the job, but because of the people. I feel like I'm constantly being watched and judged and no matter what I do, it being misconstrued. Last week there was a training bit where I did a simulation and the instructor said I did good but should also add an additional step. Not having been told that step, I asked for further clarification so I could fix it and be able to do the right steps in the future. She marked me as "argumentative and that I reacted as if I were offended."
I can't do anything right with these people.
I stay too quiet to not cause issue I'm labeled "mousey" and need to speak up. I speak up, I'm argumentative.
I feel like they're trying to make me quit. I want to quit. But this job was literally my last attempt at staying in this area due to there being no jobs here.
If I loose this job, I'm going to have to move.
I also fear I don't have the mental compactity to be able to keep fighting and search for another job. This job and the people here are just another kick in the gut and slap in the face. Daily. I'm stressed and depressed and feel like I'm failing. And I don't think I can keep trying.
I'm so lost and I don't know what to do. And I just don't want to go to work tomorrow. For another day of mental torture.

In 2022 we dated and it lasted three months. I broke up with her even though I cheated emotionally and was very difficult because I was going through a mental illness that I didn’t know I had at the time. after I was released from the mental hospital, months had been gone and she moved on. I told her my diagnosis and that I’m going to therapy and that I wanna try again, notice she and I talked and she said if I go to therapy we will get back together. But this couldn’t work because she moved to another province. She agreed to be friends even though she lived across the country now. I told her I’ll try to see if I still have feelings as time passes by. since that’s happened her life has been constantly getting worse; injury leading to job loss, men playing her, mental health problems. we FaceTime and would talk about the guys she dates to the point of me starting to lose feelings because what she does isn’t aligning with who I want to be with romantically.
This is the actual event I wanna talk about. Just now, she and I were talked about meeting again and this is how the conversation went:
Me: “are you coming here?”
Ex: “in July, I’m going up north to a family trip”
Me: “that’s fun, are we gonna be able to hangout maybe you can stay one extra day so we can hike or something”
Ex: “i don’t think that’s a good idea”
Me: “why not?”
Ex: “if only you didn’t have feelings for me”
I told her I wanna do things like go on a hike or hangout, not something sexual. She is basically my only friend right now. How she responded made me irrationally angry.
Ex: “My roommate and I think that you’re subconsciously ruining my life because you send negative energy to me without realizing that you’re doing it”
Me: “the only negative thing I think about is your sex life because I know way too much about it like the details of the sex you’re having and you’ve slept with at least 10 more people since we first dated so it’s hard for me to process it but you still talk about it everytime”
Ex: “I still think you have feelings for me”
Me: “I don’t, maybe we should stop talking if you think I’m ruining your life”
Ex: “oh my god I can’t say anything without you saying you’re giving me an ultimatum about how we shouldn’t speak”
Me: “I don’t wanna be a friend, or even in your life if you think of me in that way”
Then she started punching the wall and said she had to go. She texted me saying “sorry I had a mental breakdown I had to hang up when I started punching the wall”
She didn’t apologize about saying I ruin her life, or about saying I have feelings when I am confident I don’t. When we dated I made a lot of mistakes that make me guilty and to make things right and prove I wanna be friends, Ive sent a total of $2500 Canadian to her. This was money she needed to pay rent and for food etc. not on lavish things. I feel sorry for her because her life is messy right now but I also feel violated as a friend and I am not sure how to go about it. I always wanted to be the few percent that make a bad situation like our 3 month relationship turn into a great thing, instead of just saying fuck my ex. But this is difficult
More context if you are interested: last Christmas she visited because she had family here and I saw her twice. Prior to this all we did was FaceTime and text. She could only make time to meet at night but I didn’t have an issue so I met with her and hooked up two times.

Note: Questions about monetization? Check here: An Introduction To The Book That Is Me :
Note: Questions about what else I've done? Check here: Masterlist for edgiscript :
Part 6: [F4M] Mafia Dog - Part 6 of 7 [Confronting Your Yandere] [Sneaking Into The Mission] [Supporting Mom] :
Note: Just realized yesterday that the tags on every chapter should be [FF4M] instead of [F4M] which some are. Sorry about that.
Note to those of you who have been reading and enjoying this series: Thank you. I hope the finale meets your expectations. I said before that this was a post-horror-yandere story. If anyone feels like writing a backstory with Francine and Puppy before he was Puppy, go right ahead. I don't do horror.
Note for future stuff: At present (5/19/24) I'm adding nearly my entire library to Reddit 1 piece at a time with some exceptions. Most notably, Crazy Cat is doing a masterful job with Mayna in "Amazon's Surprise" and she's only posted parts 1-3 so far. I will only release parts 4-7 as she does them. 3 VAs have currently done the 1st part of "The Captive Yandere" and at least 2 are considering whether or not to do more, so I'm holding of on releasing parts 2-6. And Xarty was incredibly endearing as Kaylix in "The Weakest Orc - A Love Story" part 1. I'm holding off releasing parts 2-7 until she does them or decides she won't do any more. But if there are VAs interested in performing those series, contact me and I'll send you the full scripts so you can decide if you want to do them before they're released publicly.
Now for Part 7. (Bet you didn't know this movie would come with trailers.) :)

Part 7

Carissa: (Sorrowfully.) Friends, family, loved ones, we have come today to mourn a beloved friend and colleague. We are going to miss his smile, his warmth, his courage, and his genuine love for each and every one of us, but most of all we’re going to miss the sound of his voice…
(With humor.) …because now that Puppy has married Jane, every one of us here knows that he’s never going to get a word in again.
(Sound of mild laughter of people at the party.)
Jane, you’ve been my courage, my fire, and my wisdom for so long now, I’ve forgotten what it was like without you here. Your spark has kept me going through many trying times. I’ve been able to count on your unwavering patience and your perseverance since the moment you joined our group. You have been by my side through thick and thin and you will be missed.
Puppy, in the nearly two years since we rescued you, you have been my heart and my conscience. I’m proud, very proud that you consider me as your mother, because I most definitely think of you as my son. You have also been by my side through thick and thin and you will also be missed.
Jane and Puppy, my left hand and my right, as you leave us to begin your own journey, at least temporarily, may God watch over you both, and may everyone you meet bring you as much joy as you have brought to all of us. Kent, Mike, Ronnie, and everyone present, please lift your glasses with me as we toast, to Puppy and Jane.
(Pause while they drink, then sounds of minor applause.)
Jane: (Hugs Carissa.) Thank you, mom. We’ll miss you guys.
(Brief pause, then playfully.) Puppy, you can hug Mom in a second. Let me get mine in.
Carissa: You see, Puppy. It’s started. There’s still time. Save yourself. Run.
Jane: (Laughs, then with mock irritation.) Carissa!
Carissa: Nope. I’m still Puppy’s Mom and I’ve got to do what’s best for him.
(Both laugh.)
Carissa: Seriously, you guys, be well. I know you want to show Puppy so many things that he missed growing up the way he did, but… well, just… be safe. Ok?
Jane: Oh, Mom, we’ll be fine. Stop worrying. Puppy’s going to love it.
Carissa: I know. I know. But… (Sighs.) I love both of you so much. Go have fun. See the world. Hurry. Run now before I hug you both and refuse to let go. We’ll be here when you get back.
Jane: We love you too, Mom. Thank you. You’ve been…
Carissa: (Interrupting.) No. Seriously. Go now. Go! Go, go, go, go, go!
Jane: (Laughs.) All right. We’re going. Come on, Puppy. You heard her.
(Runs off. Car door opens and closes. Car sounds as they drive away.)
Well, Puppy. How does it feel?
(Pause.)
To be married? You’re not just Puppy now. You’re MY Puppy.
(Pause.)
(Laughs/Giggles.) Yes, you’ve been my Puppy for a while, but now it’s official. Or legal, anyway.
(Pause.)
Nope. I don’t care. You’re mine. The wedding and the reception are over. I don’t have to share you with another soul for the rest of our lives. (Giggles.)
(Pause.)
Ok, we’ll see them again. I’m not taking you away for good. But you’ll still always be mine no matter what anybody else says about it. (Giggles.)
(Pause.)
Yes, it’s definitely nicer that we can be open about it. We’re so used to living in the shadows, you and me. Being out in public like a regular couple… that’s nice.
(Pause)
(Giggle.) Yes, there are definitely some things we’re not going to do out in the open. Speaking of which, there’s our stop.
(Pause)
Yep. That little house by the ocean. I rented it out just for us.
(Pause. Car comes to a stop and car door opens and closes.)
Nope. I already put all of our luggage in there before the wedding. Now, all that’s left to do is for you to carry me across the threshold. Unless, of course, you want me to carry you. We’re not exactly the most traditional couple after all and…
(Jane is interrupted by Puppy picking her up.)
(Squeals as she’s picked up and laughs. Kiss.) Oh, Puppy. Does this all feel as magical and as much like a fairy tale to you as it does to me? I can’t believe I get to call myself your wife. I love you, Puppy.
(Pause. Front door opens and closes.)
Oh no. You don’t get to set me down yet. Not until we’ve reached the bedroom. (Giggles.) I’ve got a surprise for you.
(Pause.)
(Laughs.) No, that’s not it. That’s no surprise, silly. You already knew I was going to give you that. (Giggles.) No, I’ve got something else for you.
(Pause while they reach the bedroom.)
Here we are. Now, lay me down and then lay down beside me.
(Pause.)
I love you so much, Puppy.
(Pause.)
I know you love me too. And I’m not just saying that because it’s the proper response. I want you to really, truly know that I know you love me. I meant everything I said in my wedding vows. My heart and my soul belong to you now. Ever since I’ve known you after we rescued you from that personal prison of Francine’s, you’ve been nothing but kind, considerate of others, laughing and loving everyone when you could have been broken and bitter. I love you for that, Puppy.
(Pause.)
(Giggles.) Ok, you’re kinda cute too. (Giggles.)
(Pause.)
(Note: From here on, there are no instructions on how to say the rest of this. Please let your own emotions decide how it should be done. Tender and sweet? Tearful? Joyful? You decide.)
Thank you, Puppy. I will always love to hear you say that. But I wanted you to know just how much I love you. I know you said that when you were trapped by Francine, and while she was… well, you know. She would constantly tell you how much she loved you and needed you, even while she was hurting you. She didn’t know love, Puppy. She only knew her own obsession and her lust. She took what she wanted from you without any consideration for you. When she said that she loved you, all she did was hurt you.
I know it’s why you don’t even want me to call you by your given name. It brings back memories of her and even the broken life you had before she took you. I gave you the name Puppy, and when I say “I love you,” I actually do love you. You’ve told me that you only want me to call you Puppy because that marks you as mine, and that’s what you want.
Here. Before I go on, open that drawer. Yes, that one right beside the bed. Open it.
(Drawer opens.)
Take the key that’s in there. That’s the key to your chains. I found that after we rescued you when we did a sweep of Francine’s old headquarters. I saved it… for you. It’s yours now. Nobody owns you. Nobody controls you. You’re free. You can keep it as a symbol that you control your own destiny now, or you can throw it into the ocean tomorrow morning. But you decide. Nobody else.
I know that the pain she caused you happened because all she wanted to do was take from you with no thought of your well-being. She didn’t care how much it hurt you as long as it satisfied her needs. So, Puppy, when I say “I love you,” I want you to know that I’m not taking from you. I’m giving to you. I’m giving you me, Puppy. I’m yours. I’m your wife. I’m your love. I’m your friend. I’m whatever you need me to be. Whatever you need from me, I’m here to provide it for you. I really, really love you. Ok?
(Kiss.)
You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. And I vow to you that I will never let you forget that for as long as we both shall live.
(Kisses.)
(Fade out.)

So recently my relationship has felt very cold and quiet. Ive been with my girlfriend for about a year now and the past month or two things have just been mundane and lackluster. At first everything was great, she was cool, holds down a job, helps me with my house, very loyal, great intimacy, everything I wanted in a women. She had some traumatic things happen to her in her childhood that kinda makes her hate most men. Because of these traumatic things our intimacy has gone completely nonexistent over the last 2 months. I don't hold this against her nor is it a deal breaker for me, however, more recently she's also become cold and distant toward me. We don't have those warm conversations or spend much quality time together anymore. We started living together more prematurely than what most people but from the beginning we had a good balance. I've owned my home for a couple years now and its far larger than I need for just me so when she started moving in after only a month or two, it didn't really bother me. I was happy not to be alone in this house anymore. I cover all the bills for the house, food expenses, and basically all of our life needs. She does most of the housework but I still try and do my fair share although it is less than her. Being the financial backbone doesn't bother me, I'm blessed to live as comfortably as I do. and, I'd rather her put her income into her bills like her Car, phone, and Insurance expenses as well as her lavish purchases. Basically I say all this just to give the dynamic of our relationship to you readers as best as I can.
Recently, we've just been disconnected from each other. I've tried to talk about this with her but she really just gets defensive and shuts down on me. She also hasn't really felt comfortable with me touching her in any endearing way like a hug. Which is understandable considering her tragic past. The only conversations that seem to mean anything to her is when she asks me for money for a bill she's behind on, or gas money, or money for a vape. Not only is there a clear lack of communication and intimacy, We also have very different religious beliefs. I'm a devout follower of Christ and she's more agnostic. Again that's not a deal breaker for me, I don't demand her worship to Christ just as she doesn't impose her spiritual beliefs on me, however, I believe my religion has in some way caused her to lose respect for me which I don't understand.
I would be lying if at times I didn't feel as though I was being used for my home and comfortable financial situation. Part of me believes that she's with me because she loves me, and the other part believes that she's scared to leave me because she financially cant.
To the point I've made earlier about how she hates most men, I feel like I've become another man who she looks at with distain simply because I'm a man. So what I'm asking are a few things, Am I going to get anywhere trying? Is it better for the both of us to go our separate ways? Is there an alternative that Im not seeing? Any advice or comment I would appreciate greatly. Thank You

I have always felt like the odd one out in every social circle I've ever had. Not saying I didn't like these people or they didn't like me but I have always felt different enough where it's noticeable. These differences ranged from minuscule insignificant things to major ethical/personality differences.
Here are some examples.
I grew up outside my home country and kept moving around to different countries. My parents didn't teach me my native language or culture. As a result, I'm always getting comments from family about how I don't understand the culture or don't speak the language and how it's a shame. Even for people who aren't family, the confusion, disappointment, and judgment is always visible on their faces. I try to ignore it as much as I can but every now and then some poor soul will do or say something that will set off years worth of pent up frustration.
With my friends, I've always just been different. This isn't so much problematic as it is lonely. We may share common interests but they're also different at the same time. For example, we all like playing video games, but I'll never be into the games that the rest of the group plays so I feel left out at times. I don't want to spend money on a vacation since I've traveled plenty already and I'm kinda over it but this is met with something along the lines of "OOH rich kid over here too cool for vacations"
My girlfriend and her family are from the same country I am originally from but immigrated to the US a while back. I get similar comments from them about me not speaking the language or knowing the culture. At least my gf makes an effort to teach me about the culture and language but even sometimes she gets frustrated and gets that same look on her face. She also doesn't seem to get me on many things like not wanting to go out and spend a lot of money and save and invest it instead. Whenever I tell I don't want to do this or that, she doesn't out right say anything but again I know her enough to know when I'm being a buzzkill for her.
I'm super strict about my diet and workout regimen. I track my calories and macros, record my gym progression things like that. While I'm not looking for approval from people for this, I am met with comments like "How can you eat like that" or "As long as you're happy, I could never do that". It makes me feel much more alien to the people around me.
I'm not the type of guy to be super inquisitive about other people's lives. Never have been tbh. I just figured if someone wants to share they'll tell me. That's what I do anyway. My girlfriend will sometimes get angry with me if I don't ask her family/friends about their lives and says I sometimes checkout of conversations. For example, we were hanging out with her friends and one of them mentioned they're going on a trip somewhere. I responded with "Cool! That sounds exciting" and didn't really ask any questions beyond that because in my mind I felt like I got the full story.
I just wish I could find someone that thinks like me. LIkes the things I do in the same way I do, wants to achieve the same things I do. Socializes like I do. It's not like I don't have friends or a social circle, it's just that I don't have anyone around me who's like me and it's a very alienating and lonely feeling that I've dealt with throughout my life, from family to friends to relationships. It leads to me isolating myself sometimes. Even enjoying my own company over that of others.
I don't know why in 27 years on a planet of 8 billion people I haven't found a single person that thinks like me. Maybe I have some condition like autism or something. Who knows, the only thing I know for sure is that I'm tired.

To start this off with a little backstory. Around the time our newborn hit 3 weeks old we moved her to formula because she wouldnt latch, i wasnt producing enough, she wasnt gaining weight, and it was taking a tole on my mental health. We started her on the liquid form of Similac 360 total care and after about a week we found it was more price efficient to get the powder kind. Well when we did she began spitting up a lot. While being fed and even an hour after being fed she would be laying down and spit up formula. We brought it up to her pediatrician and they first suggested keeping her upright for 20 minutes and said she was starting to gain weight which was great.
A thing to note is our girl is really good at refusing a bottle. she has been bottle fed since we left the hospital and if she isnt hungry she will not open her mouth for the bottle nor drink from it.
Her spitting up continued even after keeping her upright for 20 minutes. We continued to bring it up weekly (she was going weekly for her weight) and at one point they put her on Famotidine. Its hard to say if it worked or not but eventually it stopped working and we were right back to the same issue. So then the pediatrician put her on Similac Alimentum and she got excessively fussy and had dark green diarrhea. The only thing that would get her to calm down was being put in her swing with white noise and her paci. Even then sometimes she wouldnt calm down. It lasted maybe 4 days. So then we moved her to Enfamil Gentlease because we had a can that was given to me when i was pregnant. Within 4 hours of starting that every single bit of fussiness was gone. However, we were back to the spitting up issue and diarrhea. It just so happened that when i took her in for an appointment she had a dirty diaper and the pediatrician decided to test it for blood. They also told us to put her on enfamil nutramigen and they upped her dosage of famotidine. We were told wed be given a call if there was blood. So a week goes by and we dont hear anything. On Saturday she vomitted 3 times during a feeding and we decided to move her back to the gentlease because we hadnt heard back and it didnt seem healthy for a baby to vomit 3 times in one feeding. I call that monday about her still spitting up and she vomitted on the nutramigen and the doctor finally calls back to tell me that there was blood in her stool and to put her back on the nutramigen. Keep in mind the doctor knows at this point that she vomitted on it. They also switched her medicine to Nexium. So we put her on that again and that night her stool had went from runny dark green to clay like and greenish white. We went to the ER because that worried us plus she vomitted again. They told us to call her pediatrician the next day and get a recommendation for a gastroenterologist. We get a recommendation and i go ahead and call them instead of waiting for them to call me. The earliest appointment anywhere was june 3rd which at the time was 3 weeks out. Well the lady at the front desk went above and beyond and mentioned to the doctor about the blood and they decided they could fit her in the next day. So we go and were expecting maybe some blood tests to see what caused the blood. Nope. They asked us a few questions looked at her body and said she needed to gain more weight (at this point she has been steadily gaining weight at every single appointment) So they sent in the nutritionist told us to make the formula a different way and said we could give her the medicine twice a day instead of once. We were also told for the hundredth time that it can take up to 3 weeks for a babies body to adjust to new formula and clear out the old. After every single formula change her stools have changed within 48 hours and been consistent after that. We decided we would stick with it for those 3 weeks and if nothing changed then we were going to get answers. well her stools moved to diarrhea again, her diapers became to where they barely had any pee in them (she would fill diapers before), and she started eating less. So we went back to how the formula was before and now she is spitting up clear liquids, she vomited 2 times during a feeding, has diarrhea, and spit up a few times.
We are at our wits end with this merry go round that feels like no one is listening. i understand that there are steps to this but everything in me is telling me she has something wrong with her. whether it be an allergy we dont know about or something else. Has anyone experienced anything like this or any advice from your experience with it?

“Jacob, can you come over here?”
“Give me a minute, Jess. Just finishing something up”
“I’m not asking a fucking question, get over here now.”
I stared into space for a couple seconds, conjuring up the strength to get off the couch. I had just gotten back from work, and helping my girlfriend around the house was the last thing I wanted to do that night. I mean, I thought she was about to have a bath; what the fuck did she want now? Before I could get up, footsteps started rapidly approaching me from the back bathroom. I quickly threw my phone aside on the couch and hopped up, acting like I was on my way.
“What the hell is taking you so long?” Jess said, bursting through the doorway. She was in her typical business casual blazer and jeans. I hadn’t seen her since she left for work in the morning; when she came home just 5 minutes prior she headed straight for the shower. She looked… flustered.
“Sorry, I had to just finish up some paperwork for some stuff at work,” I scraped out unconvincingly. Jess looked at me skeptically, so I quickly diverted the conversation. “Anyways, we can talk about it later, what’s going on?”
“I think, I don't really know how to explain it,” Jess said. I could sense a quiver of fear in her voice. “There’s, like, an infestation.”
“Like, of spiders?” I could feel my skin crawl. I sure as hell wasn’t hoping to have a showdown in the bathtub with a tarantula.
“No, no spiders. Just flies I think. And it’s not a whole nest or anything, they’re just crawling out of the floorboards. I saw a few last night but there’s way more now.”
“Shit, well I guess I’ll go check it out if you want.”
Jess nodded, and we locked eyes. She almost looked afraid, her eyes bleached with a sense of sorrow, while her brows were furrowed.. in fear? Maybe disappointment? It had always been so hard to read her. I had so many questions to ask her, but all I could choke out was, “Are you okay?”
She stared downwards and said, “Tough day at work.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“Yeah, I know.”
An awkward silence followed. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, awkwardly breaking the ice.
I walked past her, through the kitchen, and into the hallway. I peered over my shoulder as I wrapped around the corner and caught Jess staring at me blankly with that same face. I finally understood; she didn’t look distraught or afraid, she was guilty. I’ll admit, we had been going through a rough patch, but we had also been going to therapy and she hadn’t shown a sign of remorse. Guilt was something that she had never shown before. It was strange, but I didn’t think much of it at the time.
I opened our bedroom door and, to my confusement, the lights were out. I tried flipping on the light switch but nothing happened. I clicked it back and forth a couple more times, but the only light came from the far corner near the window. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, spilling in a sliver of light into the darkness.
BZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZ
A monotone buzzing noise traveled through the shadows, grating against my ears.
BZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZZZ BZZZ BZZZZZ
I moved towards the bathroom, but I stopped right before the door.
BZZZZ BZ BZZZZ BZZZZZZZ BZZ BZ
I was afraid. The buzzing seemed to grow louder by the second. It was deafening, piercing. “It’s just a couple of flies. I can handle a couple of flies,” I muttered to myself. I opened the door, and it let out a creeaak that split through the hum like butter.
BZZZZZ BZZ BZZZZ BZZZ BZZZZZZ
When Jess had called it an infestation, she was wrong. No, that would be putting it kindly. It was a fucking plague of them. On the far end of the bathroom, where the tub lay right next to the window, flies were pounding against the window screen, attempting to break through the plastic wire. There were some who succeeded, but were stuck bouncing back and forth against the screen and the glass furiously like enraged ping pong balls. Their murmurs resonated through the room, the droning buzz mimicking the sound of power lines on a hot summer day.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I felt like running, but instead I moved closer. I stood straight over the tub, looking down at the floorboards. Flies were flying out of the cracks by the seconds. The floor held a mixture of insects, dead and alive. There were ants and beetles that scurried among a graveyard of dead flies. That’s when it hit me; a wafting stench flared at my nostrils. It made my eyes water.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I shoved myself further into the swarm, getting pelted by the insects as I shoved my hands forward. I gripped my fingers around the corner of the screen and ripped it back. Flies ricocheted off my face, looking for a route to freedom. My hands fumbled for the bottom of the window, and I shoved it upwards. The insects whirred out of the room, exiting through the window and out into the night. I fell backwards and scrambled away from the continuous swarm exiting through the floorboards.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzz
The buzzing of the insects eventually faded. I got up, slowly but surely, and stumbled back over to the window. The flies were gone, but the stench still lingered. I looked downwards, over the sea of dead flies, beetles, and ants, and towards the floorboards. One spot in particular caught my eye. A few flies were still crawling out, but I took a large step over the bathtub and crunched down upon the beatles and flies. I squatted down next to the floorboard, noticing that it was very loose. I gripped my hands around it, took a deep breath, and ripped it out. The stench intensified, rushing against my face as I pulled the board out of its socket.
Concealed inside the walls of my bathroom, a rotting body lay right before my eyes. The unfortunate soul’s head had been ripped apart, its brain, or what was left of it, almost completely eaten by the insects. The body was bloated, and there was still plenty of flesh still left. It was fresh. I staggered backwards, my eyes plastered in the direction of the body. I couldn’t look away. All of a sudden, the light turned off, and my heart sank. I was completely and utterly enveloped in darkness.
“You were wrong, I’m not a bad liar,” a familiar voice giggled from behind me.
I wanted to turn around, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to face what I would see, even though I knew what would await me.
“What the fuck, Jess?! Who the fuck even are you?” I decided to face my fears, and turned around to see the dark outline of my girlfriend. “You fucking killed someone and let insects turn him into fucking skin and bones?! What the fuck, what the fuck, how is this possible-” I wailed on in shock, before Jess cut me off.
“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t let the beatles do all of the dirty work, I had a little snack as well!”
I looked at Jess in terror, disgust, and shock. She thought this was funny. Whether she was a cannibal or simply a killer, I couldn’t give a fuck. I spent years with her, I slept with that monster, and I fucking loved that bitch. I simply didn’t, and still, don’t understand.
What happened next was somewhat of a blur. All I know is that I didn’t want to end up like the person underneath the floorboards. I jumped straight out of the window and hopped in my car. I drove for hours, and I didn’t stop until I ran out of fuel. The one thing that I really do remember though, is her pleading screams for me to come back as I sped away from our house.
“Come back!”
“Please don’t leave me!”
“I love you!”
“Please don’t do this!”
“I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Let's just talk this out, please!”
As much as I want my old Jess back, I have a feeling that my old Jess never existed. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I had stayed that night. She might’ve spared me. She might’ve still loved me. Maybe we could’ve lived on as if her little hobby didn’t matter.
But I didn’t, and I don’t think I ever could’ve.

This is my second ever time going to SNM. I wrote up about my first time and how magical it was and I'm so glad I got to go again because let me tell y'all I somehow managed to have an entirely new experience this time.
I got the Oz Guest ticket to ensure I got an Ace card, and I was the first one off the elevator. I was dropped off on the 5th floor, alone, which was quite creepy with all the hospital beds and tubs and the forest. There was no one for several minutes, and I was disoriented and couldn't find the stairs or any way out. I drifted between the tub room and the forest, and eventually a nurse appeared in the tub room. I observed her wringing clothes in water, and draping them across the tubs, staging them like they were people. This process was slow and I heard a noise in the distance so I followed that into the forest, where I saw one other guest watching the cottage in the forest. I noticed finally that there was actually a nurse inside, eyes closed, only visible from one angle so I hadn't seen her when I passed earlier.
With nothing else to do, I stood there watching for what seemed like ages. Surely, at some point, she would do something? It was so long that I thought for sure I was missing a lot of the show. I wondered if it was worth it. I wondered what the other guest was wondering. A few others passed us, but no other characters for the longest time. Then a bell chimed, and the nurse finally opened her eyes. She looked out at us, stood, and....closed the window. At this point I was sure I had just wasted my time. I was debating leaving. But no one else was moving. But surely, this was a waste of time. I turned to leave, and suddenly the nurse from the tub room appeared, crying, and the nurse inside the cottage opened the window to observe her. I must say the lighting here was excellent, but then the lighting in this show continuously impresses me. I have never been a lighting nerd but this show has made me realize how impactful lighting can be to a show. It's used masterfully in many scenes.
But back to the show. The nurse finally came out, and touched hands with the other nurse. They walked. I walked. We all wove through that forest, until the tub nurse ran suddenly, and we were running too, and then we were locked out from a gate. The tub nurse appeared in a window to the tub room, and danced as we watched. This small dance seemed to me like she was on the edge of a cliff, and her grief took her over as she fell suddenly off the edge. Not fell, leaped. I read this scene as a woman tortured by grief taking her own life, while a friend? Colleague? Observed.
Then my cottage nurse turned and walked slowly back to her cottage. She opened the door a crack, and turned, staring at me. I stepped closer. She opened it further. Cautiously, I stepped inside. She closed the door behind us. What transpired next was a magical experience I will not soon forget, with the taste of tea on my lips and whispered words about a moon like decayed bark and a sun like a wilted sunflower and stars like flies pinned to place. Blood will have blood...
I left and there was no one outside the cottage or indeed in the forest at all. I made my way through it and the tub room and finally found another hallway. I'm going to be honest, I do forget where I wandered then, and I may definitely be mixing up the order in which the following scenes happened because the night was a fever dream. But I witnessed scenes I did not see the first time I went last month. Somehow, by luck, other than the ending scene and the rave I did not see any duplicate scenes.
I saw the porter - who I don't think I ever encountered last time - and his dance in the hotel lobby is my new favorite. It's so full of raw joy, and though he was clearly an older man he danced with boyish jubilance that was infectious. More than a few of us observers were absolutely dancing along with him as we watched. I also found his interactions with the Boy Witch fascinating and their choreography at the telephones was my favorite by far.
The Boy Witch was another character I only saw in the ballroom and the rave last time, but who I witnessed several scenes with this time around. He's far too fast for me to follow, but I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time several times throughout the show. It was the same actor as last time, and I have to saw I think he plays the character really well. He's clearly sought after by everyone he encounters, seducing and drawing people in. I loved every scene with him almost as much as the Porter. Also, is the snake tattoo his or his characters? It's really beautiful, either way.
I saw two very intimate scenes with the Bald Witch, who I wondered how I missed last show but found out I didn't - she wears a wig through part of the show 😅 The little room she cleans up in a few times throughout the show off the side of the lobby is where I encountered her most. Once solo, and I felt almost bad I stepped into the room with her because I'm not small and I know I partially blocked the view of people outside of the room but fortune favors the bold right? I did try to squeeze myself into a corner, which only resulted in another person coming in to fully block the view from the hallway. That person caught the eye of the bald witch instead of me (I should have just stayed out blocking them 😤) and was allowed to touch her head in a very intimate moment.
The second time I caught her in there was by following a woman whose character name I don't know, after the ballroom scene where the two of them move the trees and then embrace. This time I did not care if I blocked people, me and one other person were in the room and watched the two women clean themselves up and reapply makeup. When the other woman left, I stayed with the bald witch (now wearing a wig), who fascinated me.
At some point I ended up in the rave bar before the rave began. I didn't know the "Hell Here" sign changed to "Hello There" before the rave! Every time I had seen it previously it had the o and t unlit. I saw Hecate readying for the rave. The music changed, and she danced, and eventually she made gasping sounds. Each gasp seemed to be a summoning. A ritual, drawing the other characters towards her. Her scream initiated the rave, and this time I had front row view from a different angle than I had previously, so it was like seeing it new all over again. Every bit as incredible, but different enough to feel like a brand new experience. And again, the lighting, seriously I'm a lighting whore after this show. I will forever judge theater experiences by their use of lighting compared to this show now. I hope whoever is in charge of lighting design is paid handsomely because seriously their work really drives the story. The music too, but I'm more impressed by the lighting tbh.
After the rave, I debated trying for the Hecate 1 on 1 since I knew what triggered it from last show, but I wanted to try new experiences this time so I tried to follow the Boy Witch instead. But I couldn't keep up, and there were too many people, and the next thing I knew I was by myself wandering empty halls again.
I can't remember if this happened before or after the rave, but I saw Agnes in the hall with all the shops. She went into a bedroom, and lay to sleep, where the tailor (not sure that's the characters actual title?) snuck in through the closet and put her capelet over her as she slept. When he left, she woke, and she locked the door to the room. I watched her put on makeup, and then go into the closet. Me and the 3 others watching kind of looked at each other, wondering if we should follow. Two of them tried the door, to find it's locked. Once I knew that I plowed into the closet and had a delirious thought about going to Narnia but no, I just ended up back in the shops hallway, where I saw Agnes meet the man who had covered her when she slept, and together they went into the clothier, and danced as he presented her with fabrics to choose from, and when he left she stole his money, and he brought her flowers, and then she went back to her room. She went next to the detective agency, and wrote a letter which I couldn't read despite trying over her shoulder (I'm a creep, this show makes me feel like such a voyeur lol).
At some point I ended up back in the lobby, watching the porter and the Boy Witch and two women and I think MacBeth? Dancing on the lobby desk, which was wonderfully choreographed again. Instead of following the others I stayed with the porter and situated myself in front of him as he made a tiny boat out of a card. Then Agnes was there, ringing the bell for the porter, and I realized then we'd had a reset because I had seen this scene already. I went to take the boat origami, but as I reached for it another guest snatched it away - like literally, she had been pressed to my side the entire scene, her fingers twitching so she clearly knew the opportunity would be coming. I thought that was a little uncalled for, but whatever, I'd already had a few very special moments today I wasn't going to let one instance sour anything.
I left to find another scene as I had watched this one already, and ended up back at the Manderlay bar by accident. Took that opportunity to use the restroom and grab a quick drink because a woman was singing and she had a lovely voice. Listened until her song was done and when I went to leave, the guy who was the greeter at the start of the show asked if I want to enter a different way, and took me in through the "main" entrance which somehow I had never gone in through before?? This deposited me in the lobby of the hotel of course, and I wandered until I encountered two people running towards each other and embrace, sobbing. The man went on, and far too many people followed him so I followed the woman, who went into the room with the lit cross where Duncan(?) body is. She unwrapped him and used true loves kiss to bring him back to life. Together they went to the ballroom and danced, which was beautiful. Then she left, and I followed our resurrected Duncan because I had NO IDEA he came back to life at any point from last show so I was like bro what are you gonna do with your new life??? Well, he decided to retrace his steps of course, clearly confused and slowly remembering what had happened to him as he went first to the cross room, then to the place of his murder, then through to the room he dances in before his murder, and then he went running. I tried keeping up but well, I am not a runner.
Somewhere along the way I end up back in the ballroom, having followed someone I encountered in the hall. I thought oh great, banquet again, let me wander and see if anything else happens elsewhere since I have already seen this? But as I went to leave, the Porter and a woman came in, and positioned themselves in the back of the ballroom. I had not seen this before as I'm usually at the front, so I decided to stay and see if they do anything interesting. And this is when I realized the show was ending, because the banquet turned into a hanging, and we were then all ushered out.
Second time going to this show, and I feel I saw a whole new show having witnessed so many scenes I hadn't seen last time. I wonder how many more I am missing? I hope to see it once more next month, and maybe finally see the entire show and put together the pieces of plot. I definitely feel that this time I was able to absorb more, and found myself actually applying motives and thoughts and words to scenes that had none. I love that there are very few spoken scenes - it leaves the experience up to the beholder to interpret, and I know from reading others recaps that we all kind of notice different inflections that mean different things to us and change how we view a scene. I'm only sorry i waited so long to see this show - I wish I could have seen it more often to truly capture all of it.
But, I may have another chance next month! Until then, I for one will definitely be getting a good nights sleep after all that walking today 😂