Fever chills body aches headache 38 hours

When I was in junior high a transfer student arrived in the middle of the semester; a kid that was different from everyone else. Right away he had caught my eye, in fact he caught everyone's attention because he had a very unique disability; he couldn’t speak. I guess you could say he was deaf, though it was clear to me after getting to know him that he could in fact hear; every word spoken to him was understood with simple nods or gestures; facial expressions contorting into understood language; so I guess he was mute; yeah, that would describe him best. He was an oddity to most but to me he was a unicorn, something that sparkled in our dim monotonous lives and it wasn’t until he revealed who he was did I become terrified of him and his shine.
I was in 7th grade maneuvering my way through the jungle of middle school, avoiding trouble and premature violence. I was an undersized boy for my age, no more than 5ft tall; puberty had yet to visit me leaving me left out of the herd; the other students or the ‘sheep’ as I called them that infested my school. They were all the same, kids that were driven by hormones constantly talking about boys or girls, their deep voices riding on the coattails of the wind that breezed in and out of our hallways. I was a mere shadow, always walking a few paces behind the others not wanting to be seen or acknowledged; I saw what others that looked like me went through, they were tortured and abused for simply existing.
Once Bryce Ellis and his friends stuck Timmy Easton’s face in the shitter for over 10 flushes, I was in a stall over, hiding and waiting for the torment to be over. I slithered my feet up on to the stall caressing them to my chest as I sat in a fetal position horrified of how one human could treat another. Eventually the bullies had gotten bored, their short attention span driven minds directed them to another endeavor leaving Timmy to fester in his tears and possible filth.
He sobbed for minutes that felt like hours as I remained silent in the stall over, I placed my hand cautiously on the barrier wall trying to absorb a bit of his pain, my heart ached for him in that moment and I wanted to lend him a compassionate hand if only I had the courage to do so. So yeah, I did my best to stay hidden, unseen to all the dwellers that mindlessly walked in and out of our school on a daily basis, the boys that believed themselves to be men or the girls that pontificated to anyone that listened. I was lost into an enteral sea of vindictive young adults that searched for any reason to lash out at anyone that stood in their way.
So when ‘Tape boy’ — as they would eventually call him — came to my little middle school that stood still in the secluded hills of our small town I was enthralled almost immediately with his existence. He was introduced to my home room class, I sat in the back burying my head into my arms, occasionally lifting my head to listen on the days lecture. My day dreams entertaining me as the clock slowly ticked away at our lives and it wasn’t until my teacher promptly stopped talking did it trigger a primal emotion in me to sit up and pay attention. I postured myself up straight, pausing the internal movie that played in my mind to see what the interruption was about.
There he was, a new boy that no one had ever seen before, by middle school everyone knew each other; we had went to the same elementary school, the same holiday events and grocery stores. So getting a new student was like getting a new flavor at Baskin Robbins; a mystery taste simmering on the tip of your tongue as you digested every drop, his presence was intriguing. He wasn’t small like me, I would say average height for a 12 year old; about 5'4, slender body with unkempt dark black hair. He looked timid, his head tilted towards the ground not wanting to accidentally lock eyes with any of us as the teacher introduced him, my mind wandering with such intrigue because to all of our astonishment he was wearing a surgical face mask — mind you this was in the 90’s; eons before the Covid pandemic breached the windows of our thoughts.
Right away I could hear the murmurs, the questions erupting throughout the classroom as everyone pondered of why this boy sheltered his face. I stared on for what must of been minutes as the shy boy kept his gaze down, I could see him slightly squeezing the arm straps to his backpack nervously the longer he stood there on full display for all.
I had my fill and I relaxed my postured sinking back into my chair directing my stare out the window but then Billy Sherman asked the question we all had on our minds,
“Uhm, why is he wearing that mask?”.
Our teacher explained to us that it was because of some weaken immune system, something about how his ticker didn’t click like the rest of ours, she then also told us about him being mute. This drew my eyes right back to him, I think it did for all of us and for a moment the quiet kid raised his head and locked eyes with me. His dark black eyes glistened with despair, the deep purple bags that sagged under his eyes were more indicative of someone that hadn’t slept in days. I felt something for him in that moment, our third eye conversing in some cosmic dialogue and as quickly as he rose his head did it drop once again towards the ground. I could still hear all the the other kids snickering, questioning and some even giggling; it made me sick, if I was a braver boy I would of stood on top of my desk and verbally lashed out to all the sheep, instead I rose my hand asking something Mrs. Willis never said, what was the timid boys name?
“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me, this is Gabriel”.
She sat Gabriel upfront next to her desk, wanting him close in case he needed to write or sign something to her and just like that everyone went back to their simple lives; including myself.
The next few weeks I saw little of Gabriel other than the back of his head during class, once the bell rang everyone that my eyes glimpsed at for the day disappeared or just maybe it was me who dissolved into the ambience of our school. Either way I saw little of the boy who wore a mask, the one that sheltered his true identity and my curiosity with the new flavor of the week gradually faded into the abyss of non-existence; well, that was until the day I saw the mask slip.
It was end of the day, I spent most of the time turning corners anytime Bryce Ellis approached; evading the wrath of him and his band of merry men who were the pinnacle of human torture; finding any opportunity to demean those who crossed their path. I remember leaving Chemistry class, my mind all to occupied with leaving the hell hole of every kids dread and that’s when I saw Gabriel walking down the hall towards the cafeteria; his head still tilted down; his gaze tracking every step he took; face mask still tightly fitted around his face.
This time I saw someone was following him, it was Tom Ingram one of Bryce’s guys, a kid that tried to be the “alpha male” of the group numerous times, doing his best to dethrone the reign of Bryce. He was a big boy for his age, probably about 5'9 and easily weighed 200 pounds, he was a wild card alright; he got caught pouring sugar down Mr. Whitakers old Pontiac gas tank for giving him a poor grade. So when I saw him berating poor Gabriel; taunting him as grotesque laughter followed every insult, I felt like I had to do something and my consistent stealth veneer of camouflage morphed into into a full on sprint towards the two. I saw Tom was closing in on him, other kids looking on with bewilderment on their faces — not knowing if they should laugh out of fear or grimace from disgust. For the first time in a long while did a burning sensation of courage ignite in my soul, I was tired of seeing monsters preying on the sheep and I was going to stop it somehow.
Finally Gabriel had stopped walking and stood still, his head hanging even lower than before, the strands of his long hair covered the remainder of his face. Tom began slapping the top side of the poor kids head, yelling out obscenities, angered that he didn’t stop sooner. I was close, I was gonna stop this since all anyone else could do is cower in fear while looking on and then it happened causing me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widening with befuddlement. Tom had torn away the mask from Gabriel's face, awes with groans came from everyone then silence blanketed the entire school and for those few seconds our existence had been swallowed up by the earth itself.
“What the hell” Tom yelped out breaking the still but heavy disquietude.
I wanted to say something, but no words could be manifested only gurgles as I choked on my own disbelief. The timid boy under the mask of intrigue had a strip of black duct tape covering his mouth, it stretching from the side of his face to the other almost resembling what would be some hideous smile. The timid boy then collapsed his hands over his face as faint muffles of sobbing protruded from him, he ran into the nearest restroom only for Tom to pursue. Finally my thoughts had been gathered while my body came back to life, I brushed off the bizarre occurrence of that grizzly smile and I reminded myself of what was about to happen. Tom was going to punish Gabriel for simply existing as he and his gang have been doing for years and like some old factory machine the cogs of my body set into motion as I ran towards the restroom.
Before I could open the door the most horrid scream exploded outwards into the hallway, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine and Tom came running out of the restroom gripping at his face crying. He was hysterical running and bumping into the walls until finally crumbling onto the floor only to continue sobbing. My mind was clouded with a whirl wind of confusion, I no longer knew what to do, I mean I was going to run in there and stop the assault but now the assaulter was on the floor destroyed. Then Gabriel calmly came out of the restroom, his mask firmly back on and he turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning an image of anguish into my mind. I asked if he was okay of course he said nothing though, he didn’t need to I could just sense his response and it was one of gratitude. I almost could see him smiling at me from underneath the mask and I reminded myself of what was under it; that abysmal duct tape that looked like a sinister grin.
From that day on most of the kids were afraid of Gabriel, I could see the look of terror in their eyes anytime he passed by them even though his headed was still shifted downwards but that’s the day whenever someone mentioned him they referred to him as “Tape boy”. I had heard through the whispers of our school that Tom had suffered some mental breakdown, that the doctors couldn’t find anything psychically wrong with him, it was as if his mind had shattered. He remained in some mental hospital, memories of him gradually fading and the sheep went on with living their mundane lives. Bryce even slowed his bullying, I think he knew that their were now more eyes watching everyone after the altercation and he didn’t want to get caught in some bad situation, though I could see he was itching to get at Gabriel. I went back to being a shadow, avoiding all the others still not too confident that the days of torture were over.
Even though Gabriel was regarded as some magical or perhaps malevolent being by most; not sure which one; he still appeared to be sad; lonely, his head always dragging with despondency. I made an effort in getting to know him, I wasn’t afraid like the rest of them something about the day we locked eyes gave me the resolve to understand he wouldn’t hurt me. I approached him during lunch break, he was outside sitting underneath a tree, the shade showering him a gloom of haze. I think I surprised him or maybe it was just my stealth nature but I saw him jump when I sat next to him. I began talking about the origins of Darth Vader, of how he was originally a hero using his force power for good only to eventually turn to the dark side.
Gabriel just looked at me confounded of why I was even talking to him, his stare looking on with indifference. I told him that he was like a super hero, doing whatever he did to Tom was just like a super power, that I was thankful. His gazed then returned back to the floor almost out of shame, I guess whatever he did that day he didn’t see it as something special, or something to praise. I then told him that I still envied his ability to defend himself, that having such an ability was better than winning the school lottery — which was a week supply of free cafeteria food. I kept blabbering on for the remainder of the break while he still postured his stare towards the floor until the bell had finally rung. Before getting up I told him that if I could have a super power mine would be invisibility that’s when he turned to me pulling out a small spiral from his back pack writing something down, he then showed me.
“Why?” it read.
I told him that I didn’t like being seen, that if I could I would melt away into the noise, then life would be better he just stared at me with what I could assume was disbelief. He didn’t write anything back, he just remain seated while I stood to my feet. I asked if he was coming back to class but he ignored me and just stared out into space presumably lost in his own thoughts.
For the next several months I would catch Gabriel in the hallways, talk to him about the latest edition of whatever comic I was reading, Superman being my favorite and I would go on and on about how his true super power wasn’t strength but hope. I think he became more comfortable with me, pulling out his spiral notebook to write down his thoughts; his questions and answers — a new gateway of communication had formed between us. Most times I could tell what he was going to write by looking at his eyes, those dark haunting eyes, he was a mysterious book slowly being revealed to me and I was completely beguiled by his friendship. Bryce and his little posse slowly went back to bullying the sheep, though they kept their distance from Gabriel and me.
I guess I had a new protector one that wouldn’t be crossed and something about that protection left me feeling proud. I knew in my heart that the timid kid that now went by “Tape boy” wouldn’t hurt a fly that maybe the day of Tom going crazy was all by chance, perhaps his rage snapped his mind. I tried asking him about that day numerous times but he never explained what happened he would redirect the conversation back to super hero’s. I would walk home with him on certain days, well, more like he would walk me home I never got to see where he lived, he was too reserved to give up that kind of information but the days we would walk together was always fun. I finally felt like I belonged, the longing emotion of needing acceptance was found by his friendship.
One day when I was walking home by myself I decided to stop in at the gas station to pick up a drink and scour the latest edition of comic books in the small rack of magazines. Before entering the store I could hear arguing voices engaging in combative dialogue and it became vividly clear that it was more of a yelling match than conversation. It was coming from the side of the building, most times I would just ignore it but one of the voices sounded all too familiar and I crept slowly to the edge of the building poking my head out to get a glimpse of the disturbance. It was Bryce, his back was up against the wall while someone who I presumed was his father berated him with such a vicious snarl on his face. The angry man kept slapping Bryce across the face anytime he tried to say something and soon tears began drizzling off the face of the mighty bully only for the man to laugh.
I didn’t know why the older man was treating Bryce the way he was, information cut out of my understanding, for all I know it could of been because of something the bully did at school. I found it to be poetic justice that the boy that caused so much heart ache suffered the same amount only at home. It felt like a cliche, the angry kid was angry because of the angry father; a cruel loop of never ending proportions. Eventually the man or father walked away getting back into his car leaving the bully to brush away the tears from his face. I cautiously retreated my head away deciding to ditch the store completely when that same broken voice only minutes ago shouted out to me with a hefty dominance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bryce howled out.
I didn’t bother turning around, I just ran home, dodging into alley ways trying my best to not been seen. It didn’t appear as if he was following, but seeing him in such a vulnerable state was bemusing. We were a small town how could I not know who the man was, we all knew each other since we were small and then it hit me; Bryce’s dad had left when he was little. This man must of been his step dad or perhaps mom’s boyfriend, it didn’t matter I was going to mind my own business, I was going to slither back into the shadows; but my attempts would only fall on defeated shoulders.
I didn’t want to tell anyone of what I saw, I hoped that keeping my mouth shut would of been enough for the bully to leave me be. Unfortunately there is no reasoning when it comes to human beings, we base our actions on emotions, our anger and Bryce confronted me the next morning in front of Gabriel.
“Hey fairy, did you enjoy the show?” the angry kid spouted out at me.
I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to intrude, that the arguing concerned me, that I didn’t like seeing him being mistreated and then he punched me right in the gut. I fell to the floor gripping at my stomach, the pain slicing through every fiber of my body. I tried catching my breath but inhaling was too painful and I sheltered my face expecting another punch but the bully walked off leaving me to sweat. Gabriel kneel down to me taking out his spiral notebook writing the obvious question, I gestured to him to give me a moment and I honestly felt like crying. I had spent years doing my best to blend into the background, the invisibility power I was so desperate to have amongst the sheep was now gone; I was on Bryce’s radar.
For the remainder of the school year I tried avoiding the bullies, the monsters that preyed on the sheep but their leader would actively search for me, he was no longer intimidated by Gabriel; his once menacing allure had dwindled and now we both were sitting ducks. Luckily there was only a few weeks left until summer break and I only had hoped that the time off would be enough for the monster of monsters to cool off.
Entering summer was a relief much needed for my sanity, I took a few thrashings but it was over, me and Gabriel had big plans on spending time together. He wasn’t an out door kind of kid, he usually would just come over my place and we would read my comic books. He quickly grew enchanted with the idea of super hero's, their powers restoring balance to the nature of our world. I enjoyed every minute of it, my parents on the other hand looked less jovial to our friendship, they didn’t like the mask; it worried them. They thought that whatever illness he had could be passed on to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop us from seeing each other, they only silently protested.
So after awhile we decided to meet somewhere outdoors, away from my parents judgmental stares, there was a creek close to my house, the trees giving us enough shade to stay cool on those long summer days. The small stream that flowed through the trenches of the creek enriched our view as we would find the perfect rock to perch on while reading our comics. We didn’t see much of any of the other classmates that summer, the sheep kept their distance or maybe it was just us, but the days seem to pass quickly and before we knew it summer was coming to an end. I couldn’t remember how many volumes we must of read but Gabriel was now a fan of almost every super hero. He tend to raise out his arms while walking, mimicking the premise of flying like Superman; his ponderous eyes cutting through the brush as we escaped our secluded summer spot.
It was on the final day of our summer break did I pressure the shy timid boy to explain to me what had happen that day, the day Tom lost his marbles, I needed to know. Gabriel as always tried redirecting the conversation, holding up a comic of Batman, pointing at some dialogue. I got upset, I raised my voice telling him that if we were friends then he should tell me, that there wasn’t secrets between us. His heavy eyes collapsing to the ground, shifting his posture on the rock that we both sat on.
“Look, I just need to know, you’re my best friend” I told him with genuine longing.
The school year was about to start up again and I could already envision a future of slithering through the hallways how I have always done, but with Gabriel maybe that could change. I needed to know and I was done guessing, fantasizing that he was some super hero or at least my hero; my protector. I stood up off the rock walking over to the stream, the sound of water colliding unto the small stones that infested the trench triggered something awful in my gut. I took a deep breath and made my final stand with my best friend.
“If you don’t want to tell me then I’m going home, see ya” I said with impatience dripping off of my words.
Gabriel ignored my warning and continued pointing at the comic book, that’s when I noticed what he was pointing at, it wasn’t dialogue it was one of Batman's villains — he was pointing at Clayface. This made me stop, my minding halting after speeding at 100 miles per hour; it crashing my thoughts.
“Yeah, what about Clayface?” I curiously asked with a withered and tired voice.
That’s when his pointer finger was no longer on the page but rather it was pointed towards his mouth; the mouth that was hidden behind his mask. He could see my face drop with sadness, whatever disfigurement he had underneath that horrid black duct tape must of been something like the villain from the comic and my heart broke for him. Gabriel’s eyes gleaming with absolute sorrow, the boy that only wanted to be left alone, the person all the others feared just wanted solitude and here I was badgering him to no end about something so insignificant. We stared at each other for several seconds, our eyes meeting in some altered state and I reached my hand up to his face tenderly taking off his mask. There it was, the black duct tape that resembled a grin, a nightmarish one that could only been seen in some horror movie. I then placed my fingers on the edge of the tape, my cold grip causing him to shiver and I slowly began to remove it.
“What the hell are you fairy’s doing?” a voice called out from the brush, one that sank my heart into my stomach.
I turned trying to locate the voice and sure enough there he was, the bully that had tortured so many for so many years — it was Bryce. His body slowly revealing itself from the brush like some despicable ooze frothing from the depths of hell. Though, something about him was different, his cold stare no longer fictitious but more intimidating and as his body fully emerged did I see the blood trickling down his soaked stain shirt. He was covered in the crimson fluid, there was even some on his cheeks almost as he had some open wound and smeared the remnants of it on his face. The devilish grin that bestowed his bruised and beaten face quickly led me to a conclusion; one that I wish I didn’t conclude. A purplish black infested the out layer of his left eye, it practically closed shut and his nose had been bent to a unsightly angle. I started to whimper as my lips trembled from fright because this Bryce was not the same one that had given us wedgies or swirlies this one was a true monster, a beast that devoured souls. His gaze was enough to display a vacancy of any humanity and my eyes crawled down his arm into his hand to see the black pistol that he firmly gripped.
“Uh, Bryce what happened? Are you okay?” I groaned out while sniffling.
He didn’t answer, he just kept grinning at me, the ghastly smile that stretched ear from ear plagued my vision and I knew that he had done it, that he had hurt someone badly. I was terrified and in the moment I had completely forgotten about Gabriel, my tunnel vision only focused on that firearm.
“Where the hell did the other one go?” the monster asked, I turned and realized Gabriel in fact had run away leaving me behind.
I wanted to run, I wanted to flee while screaming but horror kept me in place and I felt like some dear trapped in headlights contemplating my entire life in mere seconds.
“Everyone always messes with me!” Bryce yelled out with such ferociousness.
There was no talking my way out of this one, no pleading, I knew in that moment he was going to kill me; his rage over flowing to the point of lunacy. He quickly pounced dropping me to the floor, screaming with madness and he repeatedly hit me over the head with the but of the gun causing me to see stars. His words became incoherent sounding like muffled tones that slushed it’s way into my hearing, I shook my head trying to collect myself, just maybe I could figure a way out of this but as soon as my vision corrected itself Bryce would strike me another time causing it to blur once again. I fell into a darkness, my world collapsing into an eternal void of loneliness as my body began to float effortlessly but as soon as I thought this was my final moments flashes of Gabriel flooded into my mind awakening me out of whatever slumber I found myself in. That’s when I realized Bryce was no longer hitting me, instead he was talking to someone and as I grabbed at my head trying to steady my balance I saw it was Gabriel standing still head as always tilted downwards.
Bryce confronted him pointing his 9mm directly at his head yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs but my best friend remained unmoved, just quiet and then he slowly removed his mask. This caused Bryce to pause, his tone weaken and I think for the first time he digested if he should proceed doing what he was doing.
“What are you doing freak?” the bully yelped out.
Gabriel remained quiet, eyes still directed towards the floor, his breathing escalating; I could see his chest pump more vigorously with each passing second. With the mask off me and Bryce could see the bewildering black duct tape strapped to his face, Gabriel’s face began to tremble violently as if he was trying to yell through the bondage. He then finally began to peel of the thick layer of black duct tape and it came off with a wicked screech as I could see my friends eyes squint with pain.
Bryce was no longer pointing the gun at Gabriel, no longer was he even saying a word his arm lowered to his side and both him and I stared on with amazement. What was under the tape was layers of skin, twisting and binding to each other like some thriving organism living it’s own life on Gabriel's face. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t say anything I was in shock and my head still throb from pain. Then Gabriel's mouth — if you want to call it that — began to stretch open, he tilted his head backwards while the mountain of dead flesh started to drip down his face allowing some endless void to open up inside of him. I could hear the cracking of bones breaking, his jaw shifting to accommodate the massive hole that was now his mouth and then horrid dwindling fingers began to protrude from the darkness.
My mouth gaped open with trepidation and if I had the ability to adjust my head I would think Bryce had the same facial expression. Then a grotesque head forced it’s way out of my friends mouth revealing a face that could only exist in the realms of the dead, this new creature having two large almond shape eyes; eyes that looked very similar to the ones that were attached to my friend. This ‘thing’ then stared at Bryce, that’s all it did, no words were spoken no violence was created it just stared at him and soon the bully grasped at his face and began to yell. He ran frantically in different directions, his gun firing out into the tree line, I jumped for cover; falling to the floor sheltering my head with my arms. Bryce’s terrified screams caused my stomach to turn and soon those dire cries stopped along with the gunshots.
I must of stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, too scared to rise to my feet and through my peripheral did I see the sun begin to set plunging the small creak into darkness. I eventually mustered up enough courage to get up and I looked around, Bryce was mere feet away from me, he lay still on the floor blood spewing out of his head; it appeared as if had shot himself. I walked over to his body befuddled of what to do I then remembered Gabriel, I turned to look for him but he was gone it was only me and Bryce's dead corpse. I ran home telling my parents about everything, of the encounter I experienced, at first it seemed as if they didn’t believe me but they still phoned for the police.
I led them to the creek to the bullies dead body, I initially thought perhaps they would blame me, connect me to his death but the police believed me; well the believed me about Bryce but not about Gabriel. They told me that Bryce had killed his step father, apparently they had gotten into some altercation and afterwards he went into his mothers bedroom and shot her to death. They told me that the once bully was a disturbed individual, suffering abuse for many years; that I was lucky to escape from his wrath. I told them that they needed to find my friend I wanted to know if he was okay, but all the officers could do was pat my back with sympathy trying to relax me.
It has almost been 30 years since the event, I still have nightmares of what had happened, I see the dead stare Bryce had while pointing his pistol at me, I see him repeatedly hitting me over the head again and again. Though, what still haunts me more is Gabriel's mouth contorting into that horrid shape revealing the creature that lived inside of him. He was never found, I’m pretty sure he moved on to another city, another place where bullies like Bryce tormented their schools and I could only imagine Gabriel was there to balance the wrongs of the world. I am scared of my best friend, but I know at the same time he is my protector; my super hero, he is out there doing good, I can feel it and I hope he can sense my love for him. Maybe we will never meet again, perhaps it’s not written in the stars for us to reunite but one thing is for sure, I get comic books mailed to me randomly every month; most are of Superman and I know exactly who they are from.

Dear wonderful people I wonder if anyone has a similar experience or insights. Prior to Ozempic I have always tried to stay low carb (not hardcore keto. Tried that but I don’t like having eat so little fiber).
Since starting Ozempic whilst I have been struggling really badly with INSOMNIA. 100% has to do with Ozempic nothing else (ruled them out already, thyroid etc).
I think it’s because my body doesn’t have enough carbs. As soon as I eat some carbs I go into a deep nap but that doesn’t last very long. Yet every night I struggle to stay asleep for enough hours and it’s really creating havoc in my life :(
All my inflammation, aches and pain flared up despite Ozempic due to the lack of sleep.
But then trying to ‘eat more’ whilst being on Ozempic also seems counterproductive and silly.
Argh!!

Hi, so a few days ago I had a massive head cold chills, congestion, cough, body aches, fatigue, sore throat.
This weekend my cold symptoms went away but then I started to get a stomachache along with thick diarrhea (TMI) and low grade fever and sweating.

Hi, so I don't drink coffee very often as I realized I am quite sensitive to it. Lately I've noticed that the way it effects me is very different from the experiences my friends have with caffeine, so I wanted to know more about it and thought I'd ask around :)
When I drink one cup of coffee, even if it's a latte for instance, I generally don't feel a significant burst in energy or concentration/focus. But then within an hour, I start getting a headache, I feel nauseated and like I'm going to throw up, and then I have to sleep to wear off the effects. It kinda sucks, ngl :\ I've switched to only drinking decaf now because my body can't handle regular coffee (I never was able to handle regular coffee).
I've done some searching online and what I've gotten so far is that these kinds of 'caffeine hangovers' happen when you drink large amounts of coffee regularly, but I genuinely don't and never have drank that much coffee. I only drink it barely once a week, sometimes even less.
Do any other people have the same experience with coffee? Is there any way of explaining this? I'm genuinely curious!

Hello, I had an MA on Wednesday when I took the misoprostol pills. On that day, I was bleeding a lot and cramping and passed some clots. Fast forward, I still have some light bleeding and light cramping. On Friday, I started feeling sick like I would get a fever but my temp never actually went up to 100. Last night, I had really bad congestion, runny nose, muscle ache, swollen lymph nodes, and it was hurting to swallow, and yellow nasal discharge/phlegm. I went to the urgent care this morning to get checked and tested negative for strep throat and doctor said it could be a viral infection. I was not prescribed any antibiotics and was told to take over the counter medication to manage the symptoms. I am just wondering if what I’m feeling could be any way related to my medical abortion. I am worried that I could have an infection or an incomplete abortion and this is how my body is reacting to it. Any thoughts would be appreciated. Has anyone ever experienced something like this.

I have been crying since Wednesday and since my introverted ass doesn't have any friends I thought this might be a good way to vent out.
On Monday evening my brother went to spend the night at our aunt's place. He went back home the next morning, and at 10 he started saying he wasn't feeling well. He couldn't describe exactly but he complained the whole body ached. They took him to a clinic and they suspect malaria so he was given some malaria drugs. Later that evening he became worse, so they took him back again to the clinic as he was crying that he was in pain. They took a taste and nothing was found, so he was given some pain meds and told to still take the malaria medication.
In the morning of Wednesday, he woke up his knees, elbos and eyes swollen and he was crying, one could tell he was in a lot of pain. They took him to St. Luke's Eldoret where they did a CT scan, but they said they couldn'tsee anything. At this point he is crying and in excruciating pain. So they do more tastes but nothing is found. The doctor's finally suggest he be put in a coma so they could go deeper into his body. They proceed and a 10+ tubes are inserted into his body.... a few hours later, he is pronounced dead. Later a close examination of the CT scan reveals that he might have had a case of rheumatic fever which had remained mild while doing the damage.
He was a sweet little boy who loved animals to death. He was very sharp in school and had even started writing simple computer programs. Thinking about how much pain he went through breaks me little by little. To make matters worse we now have this huge hospital bill (Ksh 1,345,00) that we need to clear before they release the body. I am completely shattered and don't know what to do. We do have a small fundraising but that is not showings any positive outcomes.
Anyway, to you, an online stranger, thank you for listening. Stay safe.
Edit: Thank you all very much for the wishes, makes me feel better. I've had a few people inbox about the fundraising, please feel free to donate though MPesa: Moses: 0798351815 There's also a Whatsapp group for the same for anyone who would like to join. Thank you all.

I have PCOD and noticed that usually during the luteal phase there is a drop in my energy levels but this time around I'm more tired than ever. I even have body aches and slight cramps (more than usual during this time)
I tried to exercise today, initially I was feeling super tired, I was dizzy even while stretching but I pushed myself and did an hour of light yoga and cardio and I felt better.
Honestly, it kind of scared me a bit.
Admittedly, my sleep cycle has been a mess this past month and my diet hasn't been the best as of late. But I honestly feel as though I'm actually on my period.... even though it's 10 days away.
I have a few social obligations coming up this week and am really worried about how I'll manage.
Any tips on how to handle the cramps and body aches? Any advice would be appreciated.

so around last year(December 2023) i had an unprotected sexual encounter with a woman,who i assumed at the moment was clean but a few days after the sexual when i woke up one morning i noticed a very sharp stinging pain on the underside of my penis and immediately went to the bathroom to see what was going on I noticed a very pronounce bump that was filled with pus when i squeezed it (not a smart idea i know)and then it suddenly bled as well. so i treated it as best i could thinking that it was caused by the genital hair shaving i did a few days prior.
mainly because i heard stories of ingrown hairs causing things like this to happen it wasn't until a few days later that i developed other symptoms such as tightness in the chest,bloodshot eyes,chills,fever,headache burning and itching in the genital area and strep throat at this point i was pretty worried and did some research on all of my symptoms which primarily lead back to herpes every time so i tried to make an appointment with my local clinic as soon as possible which was pretty hard since it was very close to new years and a lot of places were closed.
it also didn't help that after that my city was hit with a snow storm so i had to wait even longer before i could get medical help but when i finally did get medical attention it was at a local planned parenthood where i got a blood test done and the result's came back that i had genital hsv1 which was an extreme blow to my mental health but i would soon find out that those blood test aren't always reliable for herpes and that swabbing was preferable.
but by that point in time most of my symptoms where dissipating besides a constant burning sensation in my urethra which still persist even now so i made up to five appointments with my main doctors clinic and told them everything and even had then test me for herpes twice each time was a blood test since i didn't have anything noticeable to swab and the test came back negative twice despite my positive test status a few month ago.
so now I'm left stumped as to what's happening to me can herpes sores only appear internally in the urethra or is this some other type of infection what do you think?

UK based.
Thirteenth post in my accountability series. Using this as a progress diary since startihg my weight loss journey on 12th Feb 2024.
Started the week at 154.2 (down 1.6lbs from) 155.8 the week before.
Now this has been an interesting week to say the least. With 3 weeks left on MJ (I can’t afford to do any longer) I wanted to push the boundaries a little. I wanted to see what wiggle room I have.
I’ve made some real changes with walking, drinking water and portion size, to the point that my body water % is up 3% since making my health a priority, and my average daily steps has doubled. Now this isn’t to say I’m not going to continue with these great habits, but I wanted to see how affected I’d be if I didn’t do these things consistently.
This week I switched out some of my water for lightly flavoured sparkling water on occasion (think appletiser) and had a glass or two of Prosecco a few weeks after work with my husband (had a few days of work and was feeling a lot more chilled than usual).
Brother in law stayed over from Wednesday to Friday. Even though he’s very health conscious, I think his presence threw things off food wise in the house. Husband was more keen to get takeaway and snacks. It’s not necessarily because bro in law wants them, but I think husband feels happy and at peace when he’s around and fully relaxes. I love that, but not necessarily the food effect. I stayed eating the way I have but I had a KFC drum stick and some small chips (very delicious treat, but definitely more than enough).
Husband has been very congratulatory about my weight loss. I wanted us to go through this together as we were both unhealthy, overweight and have been through the rigmaroles of weight loss countless times, but he wasn’t ready. After bro in law left on Friday, and seeing my progress husband spoke to me about being interested in MJ. I’m excited for him if it’s a step he chooses to take.
We had Mexican for dinner on Friday after dropping our little one off at my parents house. I stuck to two appetisers which were protein and salad heavy and seasoned with lime for extra flavour. Delicious. What a relief it is to eat with my stomach instead of my eyes. I’m no longer exhausted thinking about food, I know how much will satisfy me and I don’t go beyond that, because why would I?
Saturday morning rolled round. Husband and I were busy and some friends very kindly offered to look after our dog overnight. We dropped him off and they were very surprised and congratulatory about my weight loss. We see them every few weeks but now the weather is changing, I’m not bundled in jumpers like usual and I guess my weight loss really showed. I didn’t really know what to say! I think I’m almost getting a little embarrassed now. I think I need to work on saying thank you, and knowing that that’s a full and complete sentence. Baby steps with that I guess.
On Saturday afternoon I had a big brunch that was booked from a few months ago and lovely fried rice dish and unlimited Prosecco / woo woo drinks for a few hours. I happily ate my portion of food, taking my time to chew eat and enjoy, rather than wolfing it down like I used to. The flavour was delicious and I really enjoyed it and had time to think about how much I was enjoying it. It’s wild that I didn’t do this before.
Now the drinks… I read a lot on Reddit and otherwise about the averse side effects people have even after a couple of light alcoholic drinks, so I’ve always been cautious about have 0-1 drinks if I do have a drink with MJ. Hand on heart, I lost count after 6 Proseccos, and had a few more in the pub afterwards. I had a small glass of water between drinks when I could remember. I was fully expecting to throw up or have a terrible tummy, but I write this now at 6:47am on a Sunday morning, waking up happy and well rested without even a whiff of a hangover, ready to resume my regular schedule (MJ shot, walk, healthy eating). I think I had a lucky escape, but it definitely isn’t something I’m in a rush to repeat. But a part of me wonders if I’m ok because of all the changes I’ve made. This is now a little blip rather than the norm.
I’m not really sure what my update is about today other than surprise. My son is with his grandparents for the weekend, and I guess I had a big relax. But I’m ready to get back to normal. It’s so interesting how aware I am of how my diet has changed. This would be something I could mindlessly do on a Friday and Saturday without thinking before. It wouldn’t have been an active choice.
Looking in the mirror, I like what I see and how I feel. I’ve readjusted my goal weight again since I feel I look good now (and looking good on the inside according to my stats), so would be happy with the top of the range. I’m really focussed on body recomposition and have started a home programme of 20 minutes of exercise after the little one has gone to bed.
As I expected, there’s nothing interesting to report stat wise, but I enjoyed the week.
SW: 184.4 lbs CW: 153.1 lbs WoW Loss: 1.1 lbs GW: 145-150 with tone/muscle 💪🏾
SW fat percentage: 36% why Last Week fat percentage: 31.4% CW fat percentage: 30.8%
SW visceral fat: 11 Last week visceral fat: 7 CW visceral fat: 7
SW metabolic age: 38 Last week metabolic age: 34 CW metabolic age: 34
Ready for next week ✨

Hi all,
So, I've been suffering with these symptoms for a long time now... at least 3 or 4 years. The situation is made more confusing by the fact that I have a (i) severely deviated septum (which definitely influences my quality of sleep, the quality of my breathing and can mess with my sinuses) and (ii) I'm asthmatic.
I've been trying to regularly exercise since around 2018... started with Couch to 5K which was reasonably successful but ever since then, I've been through bouts of regular exercise.
My symptoms include:

• Regularly out of breath with exercise and air hunger... I can't really exercise without my blue asthma inhaler but still get air hunger after I've taken it.
• Exercise takes me at least 1 day, normally 2 to fully recover. For example, today, a brisk 1 hour walk and I'm knackered.
• Weak leg muscles and aching body. For example, whenever I climb the stairs, my legs always burn. Not enough that I need to sit down, but enough that I question "Does everybody feel this way when they climb stairs?".
• Regularly feel spacey and a bit out of it. It's worse after I've exercised but always feel spacey. I do also go through periodic bouts of vertigo (presumed BPPV) but it comes every couple of months.
• Squatting ovebending down/standing up almost ALWAYS gives me a headrush where I need 20/30 seconds to feel "normal" again. I've just been out in the garden weeding for half an hour (bent over) and I feel exhausted afterwards... and all I've done today prior to the weeding was a brisk 1 hour walk.

I've had countless blood tests, all of which tend to come back to normal, the only thing that was recently low was my iron (it was borderline e.g. 30) and since I've been taking supplements jumped up to 48 but I'm aware you can still be symptomatic at these levels (despite the doctor saying it couldn't be that...). I just feel so sick of going through this every couple of months. I just want to feel normal...

Hello, I was working out in the yard most of the day yesterday it was hot and i was sweating a lot. When i came inside i got a really bad headache and my brain felt like it was running at 75% capacity still got a small headache and brain just feels like its not working properly. Staying hydrated is insanely crucial. If i was able to do that much damage in a couple hours imagine what you can do to you body over a period of 4 days!

I'm very very scared right now So me and my girlfriend had intercourse three weeks ago and four days ago and right now she was just experiencing a headache and her whole body hurts and a fever almost every month her head always hurts but the new thing is that makes it feel different is because she's experiencing other things mix with it but right now currently she says that it cooled off because of the medicine And yesterday she had a headache and she was experiencing nausea she took medicine and it went away and she woke up today and she's just experiencing her whole body hurting and a headache and yes we did use protection and I didn't get to the ejaculation part yet we stopped before we can get there and she wasn't ovulating either when we had intercourse but for right now she said it's cooled off because of the medicine and my girlfriend also also has syncope this may be some of the reasons why the symptoms of syncope are Blacking out. Feeling lightheaded. Falling for no reason. Feeling dizzy. Feeling drowsy or groggy. Fainting, especially after eating or exercising. Feeling unsteady or weak when standing. Changes in vision, such as seeing spots or having tunnel vision. and I'm kind of worrying is there anything to be worried about

What’s in the closet, Kirsty?
He knew I hid a secret.
I smiled, tried to look confused.
He waited, crossing his arms.
I worried that he'd already seen. He had.
What else could he think about the pile?
His wife’s a cheater. She has another life. Another husband. Children.
He’d never believe the truth: I’m not a cheater; there’s no other life; no other man; I don’t know who the children are who visit me at night.
But I did have a secret. And maybe it’s fair to say another life, even if was smaller and against my will.
I should have destroyed those frames, burned the photos within. Now it looked like I saved them, cherished them. The truth couldn’t be farther. I feared to touch anything to do with… whatever they are…with one exception.
“It started last Halloween,” I said to George, my husband, my real husband.
He stopped packing for a moment, working out the impossibility of this statement. “I’m taking the girls to my parents.” He resumed the tossing of shirts, pants, etc. into our big suitcase.
“It’s true,” I said, but weakly. The children in the picture are at least six and four respectively. They were born six months ago.
“They’re not… my kids,” I said of the boys in the photos. They’re not kids is what I almost said.
George stopped and squeezed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Kirsty,” he said slowly, “there are baby pictures. I saw them.”
“That’s-”
He quickly raised his finger, exasperated, angry, done.
“The first picture is you holding a newborn, and…” He swallowed painfully, his throat gone dry. It always does when he’s upset. “And the father in that picture, with his arm around you, isn’t me.”
When I couldn't deny it, he nodded like he knew all along our marriage would end.
We were happy. We really were. George and I had managed to overcome the typical breakdown that often comes with raising children. Only since last Halloween had distance been made by me.
I should have told him as soon as it started.
“Girls!” he called as I followed him down the stairs to the front hall of our lovely home. We’d scrimped and sacrificed to buy and keep this place, our dream by the lake. He’d been so proud. I couldn’t tell him I wanted to leave the first night sleeping there.
Cara and Ella protested through play, ignoring the adults, continuing to jump on an old box they’d long since flattened. Rays from the western sun placed my daughters into an inspired, hallowed light, and I started to cry. He was going to take my babies away.
George opened the door, intending, I’m sure, to drop the suitcase in the car before returning to physically carry the girls out.
But he hesitated in the doorway.
“George?”
The suitcase fell with a solid thud on the floor. “There’s no way,” he said.
“What?”
“There’s no way,” he said, with emphasis on the last word, “you would have had time for…this…”
Not defining "this" as cheating was progress. “Yes!”
He glared, quieting my desperate enthusiasm. I wasn’t off the hook. “Tell me. The truth.”
“I can’t.”
He reached for the suitcase.
“No, not because I don’t want to,” I protested. “I don’t know what’s happening!” I sat on the carpeted steps and stared through blurred vision at my trembling hands. The shriek I’d filled the house with - “happening!” - had put a halt to the box's obliteration. Cara and Ella hesitated for a few seconds before leaping into action.
Cara, the oldest, six, punched her dad in the buttocks. “You have to be nice!”
Ella, four, sat beside me and patted my trembling hands. “It’s okay, mummy.”
Such lovely daughters. Nothing like the boys in those photos when they were this age.
George grasped Cara's wrists and gently walked her back into the house, using his foot to kick the suitcase from the swing of the front door.
"It's alright, girls," he said with weak resolve. "Go and play."
"No!" Cara shouted. She kicked at her father and he pulled her close into a bearhug. Gradually, the girls calmed and were convinced to return to the box in the front room.
"Kirsty," George said, "you have to tell me." He sat down on the step beside me. "Please." I would do anything to take away the hurt in his eyes. "Please."
"I can't. But… I can write it down. Maybe." I took out my phone. We shared Google Drive. When I made a new document, he reluctantly started his phone. The man was a dream. He watched his screen, and waited patiently for my words to appear.
Without preamble, I returned to the awful moment when it all began: a strange and disturbing dream. Words came like an infection from beneath a torn scab. The wound had been opened. Nothing could stop this now.
Sex with another man has never been a desire of mine. I love George. He loves me.
Plus, the man in my dream was a stranger, and not particularly handsome. He has a plain face set to unwavering boredom and unkempt male pattern baldness. Our dream sex felt obligatory, just something we had to do.
I awoke on the wrong side of midnight. November 1st and I was craving ice cream instead of the girls' gathered candy. The freezer left by the previous homeowners came with unopened ice cream. Freezer burned or not, I wanted some.
After retrieving a spoon from the kitchen, I intended to destroy a brick of neopolitan. He waited in his flannel pajamas, barefoot on the concrete floor. His arms were crossed.
"Cravings?" he said.
I dropped the spoon. It clattered down the basement steps. Before I could run away, he disappeared like someone had erased him from head to foot in one clean sweep.
Had to be a dream. That's what I told myself. The spoon stayed in the basement until daylight. Ghost or nightmare, there was laundry to do the next day.
I crossed the concrete floor fast and only felt safer when I'd closed the door to the more modern laundry room. Never thought builder's grade tiles and track lights would make me feel anything but sad.
His voice caught me sorting.
"Kirsty!"
I dropped the cup of detergent all over the floor.
"Shit."
I came out of the laundry room, figuring George had been looking for me in uncharacteristically rude fashion. He hated speaking between rooms. Shouting throughout the house was highly impolite. It must have been important, I figured.
As soon as I stepped onto the bare concrete, however, deep sadness, the kind that seems to physically leech the strength from your body, dominated the room.
"Hello?" I don't know why I said that. The basement is a low ceilinged rectangle. There are no hiding spots except for the laundry room I'd come from. After a deep breath, I walked briskly to the stairs.
"Any day now," a raspy voice breathed into my ear. I jolted and slipped forward, falling and clipping my chin off a step. It made my teeth click painfully. Nobody there, of course. I ran upstairs and George had gone outside with the girls to play hide and seek.
I wanted to tell him. He looked so happy. It's hard to convey in words the kind of smile he showed me through the window. Imagine contentment mixed with unreserved joy and hope. Yes, it's difficult to picture. So few of us can ever have such a moment. Sort of like finding a natural view completely untouched by humanity. Beyond rare and precious.
I’m rambling now to avoid writing about what followed. The point is I couldn’t tell him. I hoped it’d go away and stop.
But, of course, it didn’t, and things got much worse.
I awoke in a great deal of pain. Having already given birth to children, the feeling was familiar. Despite getting up and gasping, George continued to snore in our bed. He’s a deep sleeper, but a quick and early riser. I’ve never heard him complain about getting out of bed either, especially when there’s an emergency.
I might have woken him up but I was disoriented and confused. Part of me believed I was still pregnant with Ella. It wasn’t until I’d gone all the way to the kitchen to avoid waking up the girls, that my brain caught up: Girls. Plural. Ella was asleep in her bed upstairs.
“Ohhhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiit.” I knew the signs of labour. This couldn’t be happening. “Ohhhhhhhhh.”
I was definitely going to wake everyone up if this continued.
My phone was upstairs by my bedside table. We don’t have a landline. I should have called 911. I should have woken up George.
Instead, I went downstairs where I could vocalize pain without disturbing anyone. Such a pathetically passive response. But that’s how I was raised. Keep it down, don't you frown.
His hands seized mine as soon as I descended the last step. Serious and bald without dignity is how to best describe his physical appearance. Cold and cruel is what he is. The lights turned off and, in the perfect darkness of the basement, he was all that I could see.
He produces a red light from his body somehow but his touch is literally frosty.
"Kristy, it's time," he said. No joy there. Just straight facts. Something was coming. I was going to give birth to it. In the dull red glow of his being, the first boy came.
"His name is Hadad," the man said, placing a large, infant boy with a lot of hair and, I swear, a hint of beard, on the bare concrete. Hadad looked like a three month old they use as newborns on TV. He didn't cry. He hardly seemed to breathe as his dark eyes roamed the darkness. His light resembled the man's, a less intense red.
I felt another contraction, and winced.
"She comes next," the man said.
I felt so weak. "Who are you?" I asked him.
At last, he smiled and I wished he hadn't. It made me feel small, insignificant, and beneath his concern. "You know who I am," he said. "I'm your husband."
Pain wracked my entire body. Something didn't feel right. The birth of Cara and Ella had been without difficulty.
"Push," my "husband" ordered. "She is upset with you, and will kill you if you don't get her out now."
"It has to be a nightmare," I told him. Sweat poured in streams down my face. The unborn "she" in question writhed and damaged my insides. I screamed. I couldn't help it.
"Push!"
I obeyed and the second boy spilled onto the bare concrete, coated in blood and dust.
"It's a boy," I said.
The man looked displeased. "The body is male. She is Hebat. No wonder she is angry." Like the other infant, Hebat appeared aware of her surroundings and had far too much motor control for a newborn. The light pouring from her body was dull silver. Her eye sockets were two pits of concentrated despair. I had to look away.
The babies were pressed into my arms.
The man stretched out beside me. "Open your eyes and smile." I resisted. "Do it. Now." What choice did I have? The flash from his cell blinded me. They were all gone by the time my sight recovered. Only the sweat remained as evidence of the ordeal.
It had to have been a hallucination. Some very bad food poisoning maybe. The source could be as simple as an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. I had been stress eating since we'd moved in. I stood up and took some comfort in a Charles Dickens' reference.
"More of gravy than of grave about you," I said. My words seemed consumed by the dreadful weight of the air. "Whatever you are."
Whatever you are: something bad in any case. At best, I'd hallucinated prolonged and traumatic labour and needed medical attention. Yet, when I limped up the basement stairs, all thoughts of waking George vanished. There on the kitchen island sat a propped frame containing the photograph taken only moments ago.
The man looked happy. Only Hadad appeared in this picture, which meant another one was somewhere. I didn't panic. I worried more about what George would think if he saw the photos. I had to find them all.
Hebat and his father and I were mounted in a dark wood frame by the master bedroom. It'd be the first thing anyone saw if they woke up. I plucked it off the wall and, together with the first photo, tucked it under some blankets in the dresser we'd shoved in the small walk-in closet.
You might not believe this, but I went straight to sleep after. I climbed under the blanket in my sweaty pajamas, shut my eyes, and didn't have enough time to deny what had happened. I was unconscious until morning.
George placed a coffee on my nightstand. That's what I remember. He rubbed my feet while I slowly awoke. The girls were watching TV downstairs, munching on apple slices. There was forty minutes still before we had to seriously consider getting ready to take Cara to school.
George would drop her off on his way to work downtown. He chose his hours and always chose convenience for his wife and kids. Ella and I planned to spend the morning gardening. Then we would nap much of the afternoon away until George and Cara returned. A life so perfect is so very rare.
I didn't want to spoil things with a very convincing nightmare. Besides, I felt fine. Not so good that I wanted to look in the dresser to see if those photos really were there, but not ill. So I remained silent again.
November started fine. Idyllic days and nights filled with laughter and joy and television. Just as I started to believe in the dream we'd made, they came again.
The wail of a child's hunger is a powerful call for a parent. When it's a chorus, even of two, it cannot be ignored. Only I awoke to Hadad and Hebat's cries for their "mother" from the basement.
Half asleep, I drifted into the kitchen and searched for their milk bottles. When no bottles could be found, I remembered they were newborns. Milk swelled in my breasts and made my nipples ache. Just like when Cara or Ella would awaken in the night. It was a relief to feed them.
But what the fuck was I doing?
I was acting like the man in the basement and the devil babies were mine. It'd been less than a week since Halloween and that horrible nightmare illusion. I had already taken on the beleaguered newborn mother role without question.
Their cries intensified and flayed the weak resistance of exhausted reasoning.
Don't wake George. Don't wake my babies, my real babies.
"What took you so long?" the man critized, his voice monotone, the question unrhetorical.
"I… was sleeping. I went to the fridge first." Under his severe gaze, I stopped in the midst of the dark room. Hadad had quieted. Hebat cooed as if laughing at her own joke. I couldn't see them because the lights were off. They liked the dark better. Somehow I knew that about them and him.
"You should sleep down here," he said. "A mother should always be close to her babies."
The statement was nonsense but not altogether wrong. I wanted to be close to my babies, the daughters sleeping in bliss upstairs, away from the evil fermentation in the basement.
"Kirsty," he said. "Are you listening?" His hand touched the small of my back. The gentleness surprised me. I squawked and flinched away. "What’s wrong with you? They're hungry." He pressed on my shoulders until I sat on the cold floor.
They came from the shadows, already walking. I wanted to go, but I knew he wouldn't allow it. He pulled my cat t-shirt off over my head and their fierce mouths suckled, relieving the pressure of excess breast milk quickly. It felt physically good and psychologically alien.
I looked down at them once and immediately regretted it. Their emanated light had intensified to a point where perception of them hurt.
Each time I blinked my eyes were drawn to some isolated part of their bodies. The vision got closer to the point of disgust. Everything is gross if you're close enough. There is no beauty under a microscope. If you think there is then you're not using the right magnification.
Hebat's eye drew me in. At first, I saw the dark sphere, and then the strands of her eyelashes. Her gravity kept pulling until the creatures that live in eyelashes were revealed: Demodex folliculorum. I looked the microscopic horrors up.
The babies had more parasites than any child should. They wanted to show me and could somehow do so.
I asked him about it. "Why are they showing me these worms?"
He smiled, contemptuously as usual. "Trying to impress mother. Neither of them understand your horror and insignificance. You are the ant who knows they're an ant. Lucky you. They think you will be proud of the life their corporeal forms produce and host. Give them a few hours. It will pass."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm not sure what you mean. We're married. Now, prepare to smile." His cell reappeared and I noted the lack of features; it might have been a singed rectangle of spent firewood. He frowned when I failed to smile. "Smile, Kirsty. These are your children."
I managed to stave off the tears and hold the babies close. The smile was more difficult. In the inevitable aftermath of their sudden disappearance, the frames depicted an exhausted, wrinkly woman smiling painfully. It took a second to recognize myself.
The things in the basement sapped my strength. I looked dehydrated, beleaguered. The scale in the bathroom said I'd dropped six pounds. I'd weighed myself the morning before.
"Whoa, you've lost weight," George noted, thinking I'd be pleased. "This place has been so good for us, eh?'
To produce another smile proved as draining as the previous night. "Y-yes," I stuttered too late for him to ignore.
"Hey," he said, touching my forearm.
I flinched.
"Whoa, you okay? What's wrong?"
I should have told him. "Nothing. Bad sleep. A nightmare. I'll be fine."
A lie is an agreement. George wanted to agree, I think. He wanted life to be fine because he was happy for once. We struggled so hard before we came to Bridal Veil Lake. It was supposed to be our dream.
Guilty if I told him the truth. Guilty because I didn't. I began to resent his happiness, though he had done nothing but be the wonderful man he'd always been.
To Cara and Ella I became a body in motion, No brain left to guide them away from harm or answer their questions about nature and the universe.
"I don't know." That's what I told them often.
So they began to treat me like a kind of butler.
"Can I have some juice, please?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
"Mommy, can I have a snack?"
"Of course." And I'd run off to fetch it.
"Cookies."
"Yes, dear."
When Christmas came, I had two and they induced the same level of joy. Visiting the basement to feed and nurture Hebat and Hadad became a nightly occurrence. I'd learned to awaken, if I could get to sleep at all, and go quietly.
He berated me severely if I missed a night, and there were subtle threats made casually.
"I may have to squash you yet," he said, his tone as deep and cold as always.
"It won't happen again," I promised. "They’re getting big." In fact, they were no longer infants. Both had grown to the approximate age of six or seven in a few months. Still, they never spoke. Their dark eyes watched me as they ate food from the kitchen upstairs, food I'd hidden from my family.
"More meat," the man demanded.
"Of course." And I ran to the freezer and gave them frozen sausages in the package. They never complained or demanded the food be prepared a different way. No objections from my "husband" either.
Hebat tore the styrofoam and plastic wrap away and flattened the row of sausages stuck together between powerful molars. Hadad contented itself with licking them like a popsicle.
I'd stay until the photo. Then they'd release me by vanishing. Always with an exhausted breath, I'd trudge up the stairs and search for the frames and hide them in the same place.
They only smiled in the pictures. At no other time did they express any kind of emotion unless indifference counts.
My own children and husband weren't doing much better. Their concerns about my fatigue and ruminating slowly ceased as I repeated the excuse: I’m just tired. It'll pass.
Of course, I did not know when the nightmare would stop.
"When will it end?" I asked him one night, while Hebat and Hadad exercised like they had a mission.
"What do you mean?" he said.
I was surprised he answered. He usually didn't. "This. This. When can I go back to normal and not come down every night? I'm so very tired."
He frowned and I thought some punishment must be coming. Instead, he looked more confused. "I don't understand. You aren't happy? Your children grow into power and strength and will take their place in the world. They will be great and you - you, of all the tiny things, made that happen. Ask yourself what you want out of life, and see if Hebat and Haddad aren't your answer."
Too many words, all at once, for an exhausted mother. I didn't speak for the rest of the night. The infernal trio vanished, and the latter moments of the ritual I carried out with his challenge in mind.
I want my children to be strong, happy, and safe.
"Juice," Cara demanded the next morning, a Saturday, while she watched cartoons.
"Get it yourself!" I hissed, from tired to angry in a second.
"But I can't," Cara accurately pointed out. She didn't look away from the TV. Looking at me wasn't safe, and she knew it. Her and Ella held hands and sat a little straighter. It broke my heart. What had I done?
George came downstairs, attracted by my shouting. "What’s going on?"
Empathy became sadness, and the constant burden rekindled to anger swiftly. "Just children treating me like a servant."
He smiled. "Ah, yes, and how are the royal princesses this morning?"
His levity irked me. "You would know if you didn't sleep in so much."
The smile vanished from his face, and instead of the fight I seemed to want, he mumbled a quiet apology and joined the girls. They climbed onto him as he wrapped them into a cuddle.
"What are we watching?" George restarted his smile, his calm, for the girls. I hated myself. It had to end. Tonight.
After another dreary day of going through the motions, and the girls and George had fallen asleep, I went to the kitchen and chose the knife I thought sharpest.
"Kirsty," he said, his voice a whisper rising from the depths of the house.
"Coming," I whispered back.
"Mom," said another voice, a girl's, and I knew that Hebat had, at last, found herself and the wholeness of her being had been corrected.
I started to cry. I went downstairs and there she was with her brother and her father. He looked tired but some of the grimness had cracked to allow the first real contentment I've ever seen him express.
"Is that for the cake?" he asked. "We already have one."
I remembered the sharp knife. "Meat," I said. "There’s ham in the freezer."
He nodded, seeming to accept the answer.
"Mom," Hebat said, "Do you think I'm…" She gestured to herself, her face, and her body, and I understood the question, born from doubt and a desire to be validated.
I pulled her close. "You are the most beautiful girl in the whole world." We cried together. Hadad cut into a poorly made, asymmetrical cake by the light of his aura. No one cared that he did so on the floor. I brought out the ham from the fridge and we ate slices with our hands.
"It's almost done," he said. "They’re nearly grown. They are strong, and they are happy. You've done a good job, Kirsty." He watched our children fight to smear icing on each other's faces. "I'm sorry if I was mean. Or cold. I've never done this before." And he meant raising children. "It was the hardest, scariest thing anyone can try. I shouldn't have blamed you for… Hebat… It wasn't your fault."
Before I could pat his hand, he and the kids vanished. Darkness so familiar couldn't extinguish a new fear. I went upstairs and found the last frame. I held my daughter in the photo, my beautiful Hebat. He must have taken the photo without my notice.
I took it upstairs but couldn't bring myself to hide it.
I didn't see that one, George wrote into the document.
I forgot he was watching.
He typed again: Are you saying there is something in the basement?
Yes, I replied.
He stirred in the living room. I hadn't moved from the stairs, but I could tell by his stomping how angry he'd become. All of his negative, violent traits he saved for those in the world who would harm his family. George the Protector was fearsome to behold.
But he had no chance against my other husband.
"Come out! Come out you coward!" George bellowed. At first, nothing happened. The moment before calamity, even when the specific consequences aren't known, is still in slow motion. He carried on shouting. The girls rushed into the hall and didn’t hesitate to investigate.
"No!" I shouted. "Cara! Ella!"
Their feet padded down the steps. A violent commotion followed, screams and raging voices, both deep and childishly shrill.
The most unsettling quiet followed.
I chewed through the fear and the horror tearing me apart and finally moved.
No evidence of violence could be seen from the top of the stairs. The concrete looked bare and dusty and the light revealed nothing more. They were gone, all of them.
"Hebat," I whispered. "Cara? George?"
Him, I thought of, the nameless husband and felt no hint of his presence. He'd always been there. I know that now. It had nothing to do with the house. His absence was felt more than his insidious presence. Yet, I felt no relief. George and the girls were gone. I sat on the floor and cried for all my missing children.
When I finally emerged from the basement, the whole house had been filled with night. Their photos were everywhere. The others were upstairs. I gathered them on the kitchen island. How could I explain any of this to the police?
I needed help. I called my parents. It took twenty minutes before my father picked up.
"Kirsty? What's wrong?"
"Dad," I whimpered. "George is gone. Cara. Ella."
"What? What did you say?"
"They’re gone, dad. George. The girls are gone."
I heard his bed springs protest as he rolled out of bed. My mom said something I couldn't hear, and he shushed her.
"Kirsty," he said, "are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you in danger?"
Why was it so hard to understand? "Dad. George is gone."
"Kirsty, who the hell is George?"
It was my turn to be confused. "He's my- you know him. My husband…"
"Kirsty," he said very slowly, "are you on drugs? Did you take something?"
"No. Are you?"
"Excuse me?"
I hung up.
I have their photos. I have all of their photos. That's what I brought to George's parents before the sun rose. They wouldn't open the door and spoke to me through an intercom.
"George is gone," I said.
"We'll call the police."
"This is your son. These are your granddaughters."
I heard my mother-in-law say, "Who is she?"
"We don't have a son," my father-in-law said. "Go away."
I left.
Back to the house. Our dream sat empty and I live there, but none of the people in my family photos are my family.
I remember but the world never does. My parents think I'm ill and that I used AI to create the family I apparently never had.
How did I buy the house without a job or income? With deep concern for my mental health, they showed me a news story. I had won the lottery the day I turned eighteen.
His influence there, payment for services rendered.
A lie is an agreement.
What had I agreed to? I'm afraid I know the answer: I never wanted a family.
God help me. God help them.
I don't know what to do with these pictures.

To start off this all started after my mom and dad got married they have a bad relationship with my dad’s parents with personal matters I won’t share so for context they never treated my dad right and my dad has two sisters I don’t know their ages. But my dad was abused and tormented in their house and at 13 they kicked me dad out so my dad went and lived with relatives till he met my mom (F 38) and my dad (M 41) went no contact with his parents and siblings now to describe them. My dad’s older sister is a few years older than him but I don’t know about his other sister she must be younger than him so my dad’s older sister has problem with having children for quite a few years but she is bitch so bitchy so bitchy I can’t describe it. And my dad’s other sister well she is a bit crazy she was normal but she kinda lost half her mind but she stays a bit normal most of the time. Now my parents are highly and I mean very religious being from an Indian household and when my mom was pregnant with me my dad’s father let’s call him pp. So pp told my mom that she would get a miscarriage become infertile and become childless as well as some swear words so my parents think now her daughter can’t have children and god is watching them. They also told my mom when she was pregnant with my little brother that she would loose her mind and they also tried well something I can’t really say here but you get it something serious when my mom was prego with me my brother I think or it was me but the maid who worked at our house saved her on time. So you get it it’s pretty bad well for personal matters again. My dad had to sadly get in contact. Well my dad never got the love he needed and those motherfucking bastards manipulated him and my dad took my little brother there but me and my mom hate them so we didn’t really react much but my brother has changed after going there always talking about them he has become so extra annoying to be near. He shows me the middle finger called me bad names and you know hit me and stuff. Well my mom always stopped him but I didn’t lay hands on him because then I would get scolded so much. And other then all that once my mom didn’t come with us and my brother said he wanted to go so my father took us there and forced me to go too there well my mom is obese not saying it in a bad way but my mom and dad have a bunch of health problems and stress and after my mom gave birth to me and my brother she became like that so the audacity of those motherfucking bastards and good for nothing retarted shits always messed with me and my mom when my dad wasn’t there so they went as far as to comment about my mom’s mother who is dead and I loved my grandmother and I don’t even count them as related to me anymore and I always say I only have one pair of grandparents (my mom’s parents) they commented on my body my mothers and my grandma as well as my aunt (masi) as we call our mom’s sister in India. I won’t say what they said because it is beyond vile and I actually cried and I’m in my teenage years so I’m already very very insecure so I starved myself for 3 days and only ate one meal for a week then I told my mom and my parents had a big fight and my grandma always took care of my dad like her own son but when I told my dad what happened he told me to shut up and suck it up and that they were just telling me what to do to be “healthy” that’s when my mom lost it when I told her what my dad said (my parents are in an arranged marriage and my dad loves my mom but she doesn’t really my dad has also cheated on her.) And after that today my brother went to their house and he wanted to go pee but they didn’t allow him and he peed his pants and there are some clothes of my brother there but my dad’s younger sister told him to shut up and that go home and change well my dad took him home and my mom really got pissed off after my brother told her but then my brother came to my room and demanded in a very annoying tone I play with him now or else and I was studying so I said no and then he ran and jumped on me. He pulled my hair and hit me and my mom saw but I pushed my brother off angrily and yelled at him so then my mom yelled at me and told me I need to be good with him and that if I don’t act nice with him he will go closer to those bitches and you’ll lose the title as his sister so I yelled back and argued with her then she compared me to my dad’s older sister so I cried then she told me I’m useless and left my room so I haven’t talked to her for a couple of hours. AITA?
(Also I will reveal some other stuff later and update and share more in a bit.)

I’m 35, f, 46kg and 161 cm.
I lost my period for 1 year due to the shock to my body of cutting carbs, stress and probably nutritional changes from cutting food groups too (gluten, dairy, soy, nuts, high histamine foods). I started keto 2 years ago to keto manage some health conditions (MCAS, lipedema and hashimotos)
For exercise, I do reformer Pilates 4-7 times a week, weight training 2-3 times a week, walk around 1-2 hours a day and swim a day or two a week.
My body fat is 38%, my muscle mass is terrible and I’m at risk (if not already having) osteopenia. My body clearly feels under threat and doesn’t feel safe reproducing so my period has stopped. Before I changed my diet to keto I had zero period issues
I do “all” the things you’re supposed to for keto like eating a clean, electrolytes, Whole Foods version, tracking macros and I’m trying to build muscle but lipedema makes that hard. Despite lipedema, my body fat and lack of muscle mass is appalling
I can’t afford to eat less. I need my period back, it’s my priority.
My previous macros calculated by a keto nutritionist were: 20g net carbs, 68g protein and 120g fat
Because of me loosing my period, and because of low creatine and poor muscle mass, my nutritionist then suggested: 120g protein, 80g fat and 75g total carbs (I followed this but never hit 75g total carbs, always more between 45-60 given the day) - so more low carb high fat.
I got my period back for 6 months but lost it again a few months ago and have noticed an increase in inflammation and symptoms of my conditions - not sure why - but makes me think I need to go back to keto to get my symptoms under control but not a low protein version
I’ve plugged my stats into the keto gains calculator and it’s showing me (based on maintained/body recomp and lightly active):
89g protein 20g net carbs 74g fat = 1102 calories
I’m concerned by this and don’t think my reproductive system will respond well to my calories now dropping by approx 300 if I adopt these macros with less fat and less protein than I’m on now
I’ve gone to various doctors, expensive nutritionists, and tried to figure this out myself but all I’m doing is getting more confused and putting my body through stress.
Any input appreciated.

These past 2 years have been brutal, it's been L after L with no break.
I feel like a mouse in a maze that every time it approaches the exit is dragged back to the start by a hand from the sky.
It doesn't matter how much I try, the outcome is always the worst possible one.
I've gone from agnostic to full on believer because I don't think someone can be this unlucky without some almighty being involved in it.
I now fully believe God exists and either:

1. He is actively punishing me
2. He has left me stranded

   
Will keep it short since I know you hoes like reading this kind of shit:
 
Around 2 years ago I was leasing a horse, and giving it my all, I was earning an entry-level salary in a comfy remote work living with my parents. Keeping the horse was costing me pretty much my full salary. I didn't go out and did anything except lifting, running, riding and working.
For almost a year I was the happiest I had ever been, I literally jumped out of bed excited to live the day, I would work 8-4, lift in my home gym and go visit my horse, either riding, or just being with him, during the time I had him I didn't go a single day without seeing him.
Of course living like this means that I don't have the most social life or friends circle, but I didn't care since every hour of my life was busy.
My plan for the year was training and competing and then in September changing jobs and buying the horse, but in July the horse was injured, I didn't get the best veterinary advice and didn't know what to do, I was being drained for a horse I couldn't even ride or enjoy, after all those months of hard work and discipline, for some reason the owner got mad, and petty sold him behind my back.
During this time, my highschool best friend started regaining contact and started meeting with me and his gf, they gave me a lot of support during those weeks, against all odds, I nailed an interview for a high-paying job that would've allowed me to buy the horse and maintain it comfortably.
I was still too hurt from what had happened, so I just chilled for a few months, saving money, and hanging out with my friend and his gf, and lifting and running, I was at my physical peak, I was lifting heavier than ever, running faster and longer, I was optimistic for the future, I just needed time to heal and I had the means to do so, social life, earning money and physical activity.
 
Fast forward to December and I receive a cryptic message from my friend's GF saying that she wasn't going to be here for my birthday (we met the previous day) because my dumbass friend just broke up with her.
That basically destroyed my little social life since they were living in the city, and my friend disappeared to be with his new GF.
I tried to comfort her and be there for her (wasn't attracted and even if I were it wouldn't be right to take advantage of the situation).
The months of just working and lifting allowed me to save enough to start looking to buy my own horse, I was still hurting from the whole situation, and being alone, but still I was just lifting heavy, running, walking my dog, keeping myself busy.
In February after trying and vetting some horses, I found one that seemed promising. I bought a very expensive veterinary exam, and he passed it, allegedly, I buy the horse.
 
Long story short, barely 3 weeks into ownership, I started noticing pain and weird stuff that shouldn't be happening since I started with very soft work, a few weeks of going through 3 different vets, and basically the horse had a life-long injury that the first vet didn't catch in the exam, and basically it was done for, I was devastated, I tried some solutions but they we're not effective, it was over.
During those months, my friend's ex-gf started coming to visit me, we slept together (no sex), we talked every day, I gave her presents, one would say what I did was love bombing her, but to me It was just being there giving support, for her it turned into a situationship.
I still had the horse, I couldn't selling him while he was untrained, and I still had a bit of faith in the vet's advice, and then, suddenly, my knee started hurting, I was lucky that in my new job I had private insurance, so I could immediately go to the orthopedist and do an MRI without the long ass waits of the public health care (up to a year for the MRI), and lo and behold, torn meniscus, it rapidly went from "pain while running" to "some days I can't even fucking walk", I had to stop riding, paying my trainer to ride my horse since I needed to sell him, I had to stop running, I had to stop doing any leg gym exercises.
I didn't want to do the surgery since what I read online was very contradictory.
 
Because shit can always get worse, one day I was alone with my parents (we also live with my brother and grandma), and I notice the vibes being off, I ask “what the fuck is your problem?” and they confess that my father doesn’t like my mom anymore, well, not to get into too much detail but since then I’ve had to endure watching my mom cry, they get into arguments all the time, just awful, thing is I was already so drained from my personal bullshit that after the initial shock, It didn’t pain me too much, they just keep living together, although I hear them arguing from time to time.
During those months my ex-friend’s ex-gf kept catching feelings for me, and my autistic ass couldn't really read the situation so I made it worse. Finally she asked me if I was going serious with her or if she could go on about her life. I said that I didn't see her as my partner, and since then she got a boyfriend and our friendship went to shit.
 
I finally sold the horse, my life got extremely bored.
I decided to do the surgery since I couldn't do any of the things I enjoyed, running, riding, whatever, but I had a trip in January with her so I had to postpone it until then, for those months all I could do was going for walks like an old man, and hit the gym (all chest no legs), I was going kinda hard tho, since I knew that during the months of recovery I would lose a lot of muscle and I wanted to go in my best form, during those months I acquired my best physique ever, for the first time, after years of being constant, I liked how my body looked.
The trip was a mistake, she nagged me every minute of it, I could tell she had only gone because it was already paid for, I had postponed the surgery 2 months just to have a horrible weekend.
 
I did the surgery and the first bad news came, they couldn't fix the broken part of the meniscus, so they took it out, this was the worst possible outcome since it would mean a shorter recovery, but the probabilities of arthritis in the future were higher, off to a good start.
2 weeks later I start going to rehab, during those weeks nobody came to visit me, well, my friend did, only to talk shit on his new coworker (during those months he would only message me to talk shit about coworkers or work), nobody else, not the situationship, not my trainer, nobody.
Speaking about the situationship, after the trip, she stopped messaging me, and even replying at all. I thought, well, there it goes, I’ve lost “not being an unopened chat” privilege.
Some boring months of rehab, working the job that I started to dread, and doing the boring ass knee exercises at home, and then, suddenly a glimmer of hope.
 
I start being treated by a “new” physio, but turns out she had been on sick leave for the same reason as me, she tore her meniscus, during those first 3-4 sessions we talked and talked for the whole hour, she was just perfect, around my age, funny, cute, was active, played sports, had a nice body, she lives like 5 minutes walk from my house.
I immediately fell in love like I had never before in my life, and that’s when it came to me, this was it, every bad thing that happened to me has come to this, to meeting this girl, everything made sense, If I had my surgery earlier I would not have met her because she would be on sick leave. My broken meniscus, my lame horse, every bad thing that had happened to me had led me to her.
So I take my autistic ass, and since I felt like we had something cool going on I ask “Hey, I think you’re very interesting and cute and would like to know you better, can I have your number so we can meet and go for a drink some day?” and she actually did give it to me, I asked for her number instead of her IG because I didn’t want to play any game, I thought she wouldn’t give me her number unless she was interested in me, I was ecstatic.
I start texting her and after refusing to meet a few times (with actually convincing excuses) I ask her “Hey if you don't want its fine I won't bother you anymore, just tell me” and she basically told me that she didn’t want to break the physio-patient barrier, I didn’t understand anything but I didn’t want to make it weirder since she is still treating me so I just accepted it.
 
The thing is, I know where she lives, I have to walk past her apartment whenever I go for a walk, drive to town, I get reminded constantly, moving on is very hard, I really thought she was for me, I thought she was finally the reward for all my suffering, but turns out she's just part of the punishment, I legit had a religious revelation, every single bad thing that had happened, God made it so I went and met her, my knee injury, having to sell the horse, losing my friends, no way it was a coincidence.
 
Now that I know that she is not for me, not even as a friend, I have nothing, the knee recovery is not going well, I was supposed to be a-ok in 6 weeks, It’s been 3 months and I still can’t even go for a walk without swelling and pain, I can’t workout because the knee exercises take a long ass time and I feel like they’re not doing shit, I don’t have friends to meet and take my mind off it, every few weeks I have to see my mum weeping around the house because my father is a piece of shit.
 
And to top it all, I just started having similar pain in the good knee, so there is a possibility that even If I hadn’t done shit, it may be injured too, this shit just doesn’t end, it just fucking never ends.
     
TLDR: Everything that has ever given me pleasure or made me happy has been taken away from me. I went from getting out of bed full of hope and enthusiasm to sleeping through my alarms because the only thing I can do is sit in front of a screen. I’ve been having the worst day of my life every day for the past 2 years, after everything I’ve worked hard for and all the sacrifices I’ve made.

These past 2 years have been brutal, it's been L after L with no break.
I feel like a mouse in a maze that every time it approaches the exit is dragged back to the start by a hand from the sky.
It doesn't matter how much I try, the outcome is always the worst possible one.
I've gone from agnostic to full on believer because I don't think someone can be this unlucky without some almighty being involved in it.
I now fully believe God exists and either:

1. He is actively punishing me
2. He has left me stranded

   
Will keep it short since I know you hoes like reading this kind of shit:
 
Around 2 years ago I was leasing a horse, and giving it my all, I was earning an entry-level salary in a comfy remote work living with my parents. Keeping the horse was costing me pretty much my full salary. I didn't go out and did anything except lifting, running, riding and working.
For almost a year I was the happiest I had ever been, I literally jumped out of bed excited to live the day, I would work 8-4, lift in my home gym and go visit my horse, either riding, or just being with him, during the time I had him I didn't go a single day without seeing him.
Of course living like this means that I don't have the most social life or friends circle, but I didn't care since every hour of my life was busy.
My plan for the year was training and competing and then in September changing jobs and buying the horse, but in July the horse was injured, I didn't get the best veterinary advice and didn't know what to do, I was being drained for a horse I couldn't even ride or enjoy, after all those months of hard work and discipline, for some reason the owner got mad, and petty sold him behind my back.
During this time, my highschool best friend started regaining contact and started meeting with me and his gf, they gave me a lot of support during those weeks, against all odds, I nailed an interview for a high-paying job that would've allowed me to buy the horse and maintain it comfortably.
I was still too hurt from what had happened, so I just chilled for a few months, saving money, and hanging out with my friend and his gf, and lifting and running, I was at my physical peak, I was lifting heavier than ever, running faster and longer, I was optimistic for the future, I just needed time to heal and I had the means to do so, social life, earning money and physical activity.
 
Fast forward to December and I receive a cryptic message from my friend's GF saying that she wasn't going to be here for my birthday (we met the previous day) because my dumbass friend just broke up with her.
That basically destroyed my little social life since they were living in the city, and my friend disappeared to be with his new GF.
I tried to comfort her and be there for her (wasn't attracted and even if I were it wouldn't be right to take advantage of the situation).
The months of just working and lifting allowed me to save enough to start looking to buy my own horse, I was still hurting from the whole situation, and being alone, but still I was just lifting heavy, running, walking my dog, keeping myself busy.
In February after trying and vetting some horses, I found one that seemed promising. I bought a very expensive veterinary exam, and he passed it, allegedly, I buy the horse.
 
Long story short, barely 3 weeks into ownership, I started noticing pain and weird stuff that shouldn't be happening since I started with very soft work, a few weeks of going through 3 different vets, and basically the horse had a life-long injury that the first vet didn't catch in the exam, and basically it was done for, I was devastated, I tried some solutions but they we're not effective, it was over.
During those months, my friend's ex-gf started coming to visit me, we slept together (no sex), we talked every day, I gave her presents, one would say what I did was love bombing her, but to me It was just being there giving support, for her it turned into a situationship.
I still had the horse, I couldn't selling him while he was untrained, and I still had a bit of faith in the vet's advice, and then, suddenly, my knee started hurting, I was lucky that in my new job I had private insurance, so I could immediately go to the orthopedist and do an MRI without the long ass waits of the public health care (up to a year for the MRI), and lo and behold, torn meniscus, it rapidly went from "pain while running" to "some days I can't even fucking walk", I had to stop riding, paying my trainer to ride my horse since I needed to sell him, I had to stop running, I had to stop doing any leg gym exercises.
I didn't want to do the surgery since what I read online was very contradictory.
 
Because shit can always get worse, one day I was alone with my parents (we also live with my brother and grandma), and I notice the vibes being off, I ask “what the fuck is your problem?” and they confess that my father doesn’t like my mom anymore, well, not to get into too much detail but since then I’ve had to endure watching my mom cry, they get into arguments all the time, just awful, thing is I was already so drained from my personal bullshit that after the initial shock, It didn’t pain me too much, they just keep living together, although I hear them arguing from time to time.
During those months my ex-friend’s ex-gf kept catching feelings for me, and my autistic ass couldn't really read the situation so I made it worse. Finally she asked me if I was going serious with her or if she could go on about her life. I said that I didn't see her as my partner, and since then she got a boyfriend and our friendship went to shit.
 
I finally sold the horse, my life got extremely bored.
I decided to do the surgery since I couldn't do any of the things I enjoyed, running, riding, whatever, but I had a trip in January with her so I had to postpone it until then, for those months all I could do was going for walks like an old man, and hit the gym (all chest no legs), I was going kinda hard tho, since I knew that during the months of recovery I would lose a lot of muscle and I wanted to go in my best form, during those months I acquired my best physique ever, for the first time, after years of being constant, I liked how my body looked.
The trip was a mistake, she nagged me every minute of it, I could tell she had only gone because it was already paid for, I had postponed the surgery 2 months just to have a horrible weekend.
 
I did the surgery and the first bad news came, they couldn't fix the broken part of the meniscus, so they took it out, this was the worst possible outcome since it would mean a shorter recovery, but the probabilities of arthritis in the future were higher, off to a good start.
2 weeks later I start going to rehab, during those weeks nobody came to visit me, well, my friend did, only to talk shit on his new coworker (during those months he would only message me to talk shit about coworkers or work), nobody else, not the situationship, not my trainer, nobody.
Speaking about the situationship, after the trip, she stopped messaging me, and even replying at all. I thought, well, there it goes, I’ve lost “not being an unopened chat” privilege.
Some boring months of rehab, working the job that I started to dread, and doing the boring ass knee exercises at home, and then, suddenly a glimmer of hope.
 
I start being treated by a “new” physio, but turns out she had been on sick leave for the same reason as me, she tore her meniscus, during those first 3-4 sessions we talked and talked for the whole hour, she was just perfect, around my age, funny, cute, was active, played sports, had a nice body, she lives like 5 minutes walk from my house.
I immediately fell in love like I had never before in my life, and that’s when it came to me, this was it, every bad thing that happened to me has come to this, to meeting this girl, everything made sense, If I had my surgery earlier I would not have met her because she would be on sick leave. My broken meniscus, my lame horse, every bad thing that had happened to me had led me to her.
So I take my autistic ass, and since I felt like we had something cool going on I ask “Hey, I think you’re very interesting and cute and would like to know you better, can I have your number so we can meet and go for a drink some day?” and she actually did give it to me, I asked for her number instead of her IG because I didn’t want to play any game, I thought she wouldn’t give me her number unless she was interested in me, I was ecstatic.
I start texting her and after refusing to meet a few times (with actually convincing excuses) I ask her “Hey if you don't want its fine I won't bother you anymore, just tell me” and she basically told me that she didn’t want to break the physio-patient barrier, I didn’t understand anything but I didn’t want to make it weirder since she is still treating me so I just accepted it.
 
The thing is, I know where she lives, I have to walk past her apartment whenever I go for a walk, drive to town, I get reminded constantly, moving on is very hard, I really thought she was for me, I thought she was finally the reward for all my suffering, but turns out she's just part of the punishment, I legit had a religious revelation, every single bad thing that had happened, God made it so I went and met her, my knee injury, having to sell the horse, losing my friends, no way it was a coincidence.
 
Now that I know that she is not for me, not even as a friend, I have nothing, the knee recovery is not going well, I was supposed to be a-ok in 6 weeks, It’s been 3 months and I still can’t even go for a walk without swelling and pain, I can’t workout because the knee exercises take a long ass time and I feel like they’re not doing shit, I don’t have friends to meet and take my mind off it, every few weeks I have to see my mum weeping around the house because my father is a piece of shit.
 
And to top it all, I just started having similar pain in the good knee, so there is a possibility that even If I hadn’t done shit, it may be injured too, this shit just doesn’t end, it just fucking never ends.
     
TLDR: Everything that has ever given me pleasure or made me happy has been taken away from me. I went from getting out of bed full of hope and enthusiasm to sleeping through my alarms because the only thing I can do is sit in front of a screen. I’ve been having the worst day of my life every day for the past 2 years, after everything I’ve worked hard for and all the sacrifices I’ve made.

I am grateful to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for offering me this precious opportunity to share my experience of practising Buddhism with you.
I am 62 years old. Today, I can eat, sleep and walk like a normal person. However, did you know that I once was a paralyzed woman who could not even get up from bed, had difficulty turning over, and could not take care of myself? Through practising Buddhism and reciting Buddhist scriptures, I have completely freed myself from the misery of hell. I want to tell you with hard facts that practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures has not only given me a second life, but has also benefited me immensely. I want to share with you how I transformed myself from paralysis to health within four years without undergoing any surgery! May my presentation plant the seeds of bodhi in your hearts, so that more people will have faith in Guan Yin Bodhisattva who has boundless supernatural power, and recite Buddhist scriptures as soon as possible to be free from suffering and gain happiness!
1. When I was young, I opened two bars so I created bad karma, and karmic retribution is right on my heels!
I am the eldest daughter of my family and the eldest daughter-in-law of my in-laws family. Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist practitioners and urged me to practise Buddhism as well. However, because of my youthful ambition and good fortune, at the age of about 36, I ran two bars and enjoyed the pleasure of earning money, not bothering to practise Buddhism at all. By then, I was young and foolish, in the bars I gained filthy money by means of woman’s charms, which invariably created a lot of bad karma. How many people lost their morals and conscience for my sake of monetary gain? How many families have been broken up behind the scenes? How many people have done many things against ethics and morality under the paralysis of alcohol? I hereby express my deepest repentance to Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Karmic retribution is inescapable. I planted the evil cause so I reap the evil effect. The bad karma I created within two years of running the bars has brought me a tragic retribution 13 years later! (So, dear fellow practitioners, please take this as a warning!)
In 2010, I was 49, my predestined 369 calamity arrived. One day in July, my karma exploded. I suddenly collapsed at home kitchen while stirring frying vegetables. In an instant, I felt that the sky was falling, and I had nowhere to turn for help. An otherwise healthy me entered a life of hell on earth from then on. Every day, I ate, drank, pooped and peed in bed, had difficulty turning over, couldn't wash my hands and face, had trouble swallowing, so it was worse than death. I was paralyzed in bed from then on. The doctor said I had a herniated disc in my lower back. All the bones in my back were misaligned. Both knee bones were necrotic and so swollen. I have visited all the local city and provincial hospitals, big and small, to seek medical care. I almost spent all the several hundreds of thousands of RMB I had gained from my bar business. However, the condition got worse and worse.
2. Since encountering the excellent Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, I have been practicing Buddhism hard to overcome any obstacles on the way and finally achieved a new life.
Perhaps it was the blessing from my family members who had been making offerings to the Buddha and practising Buddhism for years. Thanks to the mercy of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, I finally encountered the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door in 2012 when I was in the most desperate situation in my life. The person next door to my bar heard that I was sick and came to see me. She brought me Buddhist scripture, recitation device, Buddhism in Plain Terms, counters and many other Dharma gems. She told me the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door was very efficacious, and asked me to try it. Although I could not move on bed, I listened all Master Lu's recordings like a thirst. I was pleasantly surprised to hear cases of patients who had been cured of cancer and serious illnesses by practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures. The recordings of Master Lu's programs were like a bright beacon in the darkness, bringing me hope for life and giving me great encouragement. I felt I was awakened by a powerful energy, stirring up my strong desire to live. I told myself: I must survive; I must save myself! I started to practice Buddhism and recite scriptures as if I had grabbed a lifeline.
I am illiterate, so I had to lie in bed every day and learn to recite word by word with the recitation device. Due to the heavy karma, there was no virtuous and the high-minded practitioner around to teach me how to burn the Little Houses in a rational and lawful way. I foolishly took an ashtray instead of a plate to burn the Little Houses, which resulted in the ashtray blowing up. In order to eliminate karma quickly, I was foolishly reciting the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night, which resulted in the light bulbs breaking several times (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: Master Lu enlightened us not to recite the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night. Please make sure to read the Introduction to Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door carefully in order to avoid practising Buddhism irrationally). Therefore, we must follow the instructions of Master Lu, and never do what the Master does not allow us to do. The whole process of reciting Buddhist scriptures to eliminate karma is very bumpy. It is really easy to create karma, but very hard to eliminate it! However, I firmly believed that the Bodhisattva is infinitely powerful. As long as I diligently practised Buddhism, my fate would definitely get changed. Hence, I relied on the blissful cases in Master Lu's recordings as my spiritual support. I kept persevering, not afraid of any difficulties, and recklessly recited Buddhist scriptures.
Since I ate, drank and pooped in bed, my aura was very bad. As I could not get up by myself, so I had to lie in bed to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. I felt guilty and torn, wondering if this was the appropriate way to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. Will it affect the effect of the recitation? Gratitude to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassion, and I dreamed of Master Lu that night. Master Lu who was dressed in a black suit smiled at me and kindly comforted me: “don't worry.” After I woke up, I was very grateful for Master Lu's compassion. Master Lu knew about my special situation, so this is a sympathy and a condolence to me. After I recited Buddhist scriptures 4 to 5 months late, my neck and head were able to turn significantly. Such a Dharma blissful change thrilled me. All the trials and perseverance I had gone through in the past had not been in vain. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has boundless supernatural power, which had given me a glimmer of hope for recovery! (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: In the absence of illness, recitation of Buddhist scriptures must be respectful. A point of respect harvests a point of benefit.)
3. The unique characteristics of attending the Dharma conference and formally acknowledging Jun Hong Lu as my master allow my physical health to improve with Dharma joy
In February 2017, I befriended a fellow practitioner. She invited me to attend the Macau Dharma Convention together. I thought to myself: “can I take the bus by myself?” “Can I attend the conference?” With a strong faith from my inner heart, I attended the conference via keeping reciting the Great Compassion Mantra on the trip. Unbelievably, I arrived at the conference as I wished with the blessing and protection of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, although my bulky legs could only barely support my body in the seat. I was in tears when I listened Master Lu's wise words and saw the holy icon of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. On the night of the conference, I dreamed of Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for saving me from suffering and giving me a new life. At the end of the Macau Dharma Convention, I instantly made two vows: to be a vegetarian for 15 days per month and liberate 10,000 fish.
Before I attended the Macau Dharma Convention, I had to take a break whenever I walked two steps, and my body was not able to move much. After returning, my legs started to become strong enough to support my body and I could walk on flat ground. Despite they were not very flexible, they were no longer the same as when I was paralyzed like a limp in bed. My whole body is getting better and better in essence, vital energy, and spirit. I was very surprised! Master Lu has enlightened that there are many Buddhas and Bodhisattvas coming to bless attendees at each Dharma conference!
In August 2017, before the Dharma Convention in Malaysia, my fellow practitioners urged me to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as my master. Since I am an illiterate, compassionate fellow practitioners helped me to fill out the application form of seeking discipleship. My fellow practitioners told me that there were so many people wanted to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as their master that I might not be able to reach my wish this time. Then, I had to wait for the opportunity next Dharma Convention. I told myself that whether I could reach my wish or not this time, I would actively participate in Master Lu’s Dharma Convention. Considering my age, it is a blessing for me to attend one more Dharma Convention. To my surprise, one week later, my application for seeking discipleship was approved. Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
On the day of seeking discipleship, I was very excited. During the process of seeking discipleship, I heard a voice in stereo that was very loud. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Tathagata Buddha, and many other Bodhisattvas coming down from heaven. At that moment, I saw that the upper half of Master Lu's Dharmakaya appeared transparent with a huge lotus flower. I was suddenly moved to tears. I was oblivious to the fact that Master Lu had come to my side until the time of issuing the discipleship certificate. Master Lu was very compassionate and empowered me with blessing. Master Lu enlightened, "Because five people opened their eyes during the worship ceremony, they have no lotuses planted in the pure land. But it's okay, when the ceremony is over, you can go to the front and kowtow to ask the Bodhisattva (to plant a lotus)." I then rushed to the front to worship. Before I finished worshiping Bodhisattva, a young fellow practitioner came over. He asked, "How do you feel? Did you see anything?" I said, "I saw Tathagata Buddha." He asked, "How are you sure that was Tathagata Buddha?" I said, "Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist disciples, and Tathagata Buddha has curly hair."
I was grateful for the compassionate blessing from Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu. When I returned home after seeking discipleship, I made two vows: to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life and never kill (animals). The power of a vow outweighs the force of karma. After I made the vows, Master Lu’s Dharmakaya came to help me heal my legs in my dreams. Once, I saw Master Lu’s Dharmakaya passing by my room while I was half-squinted. Master Lu asked me, "Which foot is uncomfortable? Where is aching?" Instantly I woke up and then I found that my feet didn't feel as heavy as they used to be and I walked more lightly. I excitedly shared the news with my old father, "Master Lu has come to bless me again!" I am grateful to Master Lu for his compassionate care for every sentient being. Every time I dreamed of Master Lu, he would always compassionately endow me with abundance of blessing, and I was always surprised by the improvement in my health.
In a short time, I could not only separate my feet and take turns to walk up and down the stairs independently. Moreover, I could bend back and forth freely with my arms crossed. The bones in my back, which were all misaligned and uneven, were now completely normal again. Previously, I couldn't raise my hands to wash my face, brush my teeth or comb my hair because the bones in my back would pull the nerves and cause severe pain when I raised my hands. In those days, whenever I sneezed or defecated, I felt like to cheat death on pain. In those hellish day I went through unimaginable pain and suffering. Now, however, I can take care of myself completely and move around freely. Sometimes I get a little tired after walking for too long, but I can recover after 10 minutes of rest in bed. Although it is still slightly bumpy while I was walking, if you don't look closely, you can't see it. My family was overwhelmed to see the dramatic change from being paralyzed and bedridden to walking independently since I practised Buddhism. My old father, who was taking care of me at the bedside, complimented me straight away: you have completely changed, becoming healthier and healthier now! I was so excited that I had tears in my eyes. Without the rescue of Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I really wouldn't have the blissful transformation I have today!
In 2019, at the Dharma conferences of Indonesia and Singapore, I pleaded with my fellow practitioners to be merciful to give me the opportunity to volunteer. According to the rules of the Dharma conference, I was already overage. However, I was adamant that I must do volunteer work. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has given me a second life, so I have to serve all sentient beings physically. I am grateful for Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva who helped me out. When I came back from the conferences, I found that I could bend and squat easily and freely, and I had no problem even sitting on the floor. I am grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for compassionately helping me to eliminate my karma at every conference, so that I can obtain incredible blessings and improvement occur every time.
4. The incredible blessing of setting up the Buddhist altar accelerated my health recovery and created a medical miracle.
From the time I set up the Buddhist altar in 2017, I insisted on offering Bodhisattvas incenses morning and evening every day. At first, the body was still straight and could not bend and bow. For two years, in front of the Buddhist altar, I prayed for Bodhisattvas to bless me so that I could recover my health a little better so I can use my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Dharma. Gradually, I was able to stand to offer incense to Bodhisattvas, to bend and bow, and finally to kneel in front of the Buddhist altar to recite the scriptures. I was full of Dharma joy! Initially, my back still hurt from kneeling. With the karmic obstacles being removed, my back didn't hurt anymore. Sometimes when I went out with fellow practitioners to set up the Buddhist altar, particularly on the Buddha's Birthday, I could kneel to recite the Eighty-eight Buddhas Great Repentance for an hour and a half. My fellow practitioners couldn't keep it up, so I was the only one who kept it up until the end. I am so grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassionate blessing!
At one time, the doctor at the provincial hospital told me that I had to have surgery to put two steel plates into the bone, but I refused. Because I firmly believe that with the of blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I am afraid of nothing. Buddha is an extraordinary doctor. The only way to recover completely is to repent sincerely and practise Buddhism. I can now move as freely as a normal person. This medical miracle achieved was completely relied on practising Buddhism, reciting scriptures, being a vegetarian, helping new practitioners to set up Buddhist altars, volunteering at Dharma conferences, and actively propagating the Dharma. To improve my family economic financial, I went out to work on construction sites as a helper, do cleaning and housekeeping!
Those patients who were once slightly paralyzed did not recover as quickly and well as I did, even with surgery.
Dear readers, when you see such a dramatic change in me, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite! I am the living example, the ironclad evidence. Guan Yin Bodhisattva does exist, and She is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, answers any prayers.
Thinking of the bad karma I created in the two bars when I was young, I feel grievously sinful. I have earned ill-gotten wealth, but the karma was produced, and karmic retribution is inescapable. If one hasn't been retributed, the time hasn't come yet. After I got old, all the retribution came to me. Not only did I use up all my money, but I also had to suffer from physical illness and paralysis. I advise everyone to remember Master Lu's enlightenment: Do not do anything that is evil; Do not fail to do good no matter how petty the deed; Do not engage in evil no matter how trivial the deed. Dear readers, please consider it carefully before earning any money, and don’t commit such deep sins as I did for the sake of monetary gain, or else the consequences will follow you!
Without the merciful salvation and blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I would not have been reborn today! I made a few great wows: honour the teacher and respect his teachings, live an ascetic life for lifetime, be a vegetarian lifetime, not kill, not eat eggs, not smoke, not drink; transcend the cycle of rebirth for good and attain enlightenment in one lifetime. In this life, I will follow Guan Yin Bodhisattva to cultivate my mind and change my behaviour and never quit. I will follow my benefactor, the Compassionate father, Master Lu, to propagate Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door and never stop! Although I am over 60 years, I will continue using my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Buddhism. Together with my fellow practitioners, I will get up early and go home late to help set up Buddha altars for new practitioners. No matter how far and how difficult the trip is, I will always be strict with myself. I will go wherever I am needed. Even if I am eating, as soon as I receive a mission for propagating Dharma, I will put down my chopsticks and set off without delay.
Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door is peerlessly efficacious, and Guan Yin Bodhisattva is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, saves beings from suffering, has supernatural power, and answer all prayers. As long as we have a devout heart and we persist in reciting Buddhist scriptures and practicing Buddhism, no difficulty can defeat us! My physical changes are the most powerful evidence! May my true presentation give some inspiration to those people who are still suffering from illnesses, so that they can acquire faith to practising Buddhism, and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite. May more sentient beings having affinity with Buddha break free from delusion and attain enlightenment, balance egoism and altruism, and free from suffering and gain happiness.
My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time!
My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors!
My deepest gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Jun Hong Lu!
If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu.
I’d also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners.
I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma!
Shared by: Dharma Practitioner Ganen, Gratitude and Namaste!
Translated by: Frank
Statement by Translator

1. Story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu.
   
2. Author Ganen was interviewed by Frank during the translation for the detailed information.
   

Propagation
It would be greatly appreciated if you would forward this presentation to all sentient beings you know, sick or healthy. You will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda!
Would you like to change your destiny?
We will show you how to do the Five Golden Buddhist Practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) repenting. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma. It’s free of charge.
Contact
Buddhist practitioner: Lily
Email: [sunnypurplelily@gmail.com](mailto:sunnypurplelily@gmail.com)
WeChat: HanJing20210820
原文如下:
从瘫痪卧床到行走自如做家政，心灵法门创造了医学奇迹
感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！
感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨！
感恩龙天护法金刚菩萨！
感恩恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
感恩师兄们！
感恩大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲，让我能有这个宝贵的机会与大家分享我的学佛经历。我今年62岁，现在是一个能吃、能睡、能走路的正常人了。但是，你们可曾知道，曾经，我是一个连床都起不了、翻身都困难，生活完全无法自理的瘫痪老人！如今，通过学佛念经，我把自己从地狱的苦海里完全挣脱了出来。我要用铁一般的事实告诉大家：学佛念经不仅给了我第二次生命，更让我受益无穷。我要跟大家分享，在这患病的四年里，在没有经历任何手术的情况下，如何让自己从瘫痪到健康的蜕变！愿我今天的分享给有缘人种下菩提种子，让更多的人相信观世音菩萨法力无边，早日学佛念经，离苦得乐！
1. 年轻时开酒吧造恶业，得现世报！
我是家中的长女、婆家的长媳。母亲和婆婆都是学佛人，都劝我也学佛。但是，由于年轻时好胜心强，加之财运不错，36岁左右，我经营两家酒吧，享受挣钱的快乐，根本无心学佛。年轻愚痴的我经营酒吧时靠女色来赚取黑钱，赚的都是不正之财，无形中造了很多恶业。在这种灯红酒绿中生活，我为了金钱利益，让多少人丧失了自己的道德与良知？背后又造成多少个家庭的破裂？又有多少人在酒精的麻痹下做出多少违背伦理道德的事情？弟子在此向观世音菩萨深深忏悔！因果报应丝毫不爽，种恶因得恶果。开酒吧这两年中我所造下的恶业，在十几年后让我得到悲惨的现世报！所以，请大家引以为戒！
2010年我49岁，正逢“三六九”关劫。7月的一天，我的业障大爆发，在家炒菜时突然间倒下。瞬间，我感觉天塌下来，叫天天不应，叫地地不灵。一个原本健康的我从此进入人间地狱般的生活。每天，我吃喝拉撒都在床上，翻身都很困难，没法自己洗手洗脸，吞咽困难，简直生不如死。我从此瘫痪在床。医生说我是腰椎间盘突出。后背的所有骨头都错位。两个膝盖骨头坏死，肿得很大。当地市里、省里大大小小的医院我都看过了。我几乎把我做酒吧生意所赚到的几十万块钱都花光了。然而，病情越来越严重。
2. 得遇殊胜法门，坎坷学佛路中坚持不懈地修行换来重生
也许是家人一直供佛学佛的福德。承蒙观世音菩萨慈悲，在我人生绝境之时，我终于在2012年得遇心灵法门。以前我开店隔壁的人听说我病倒了，就来看我。她给我送来了经书、念佛机、《白话佛法》、计数器等很多法宝。她告诉我心灵法门很灵验，让我试试。我躺在床上虽然无法动弹，却如饥似渴地把师父的录音听了个遍。听到人们通过学佛念经把癌症、重症都治愈的案例，我惊喜万分。师父的节目录音就像黑暗中的一盏明灯，让我看到了生活的希望，给了我很大的鼓舞。在这个过程中我像被一股强大的能量加持唤醒，激起了求生的强烈欲望。我告诉自己：我一定要活过来；我一定要自己救自己！我像抓住了救命稻草似地开始拼命学佛念经。
我不识字，只能每天躺在床上跟着念佛机一字一句地学着念。由于业力牵引，身边没有遇到善知识教我如理如法地烧送小房子。愚痴的我曾拿个烟灰缸代替盘子烧送经文组合小房子，结果烟灰缸炸掉了。为了抓紧时间消业，我晚上十点后还在念《心经》和《往生咒》，结果家里的灯坏了好几次（趁此机会我诚心提醒师兄们：师父开示，晚上十点后不要念诵《心经》和《往生咒》，请师兄们一定要好好看《心灵法门入门手册》，避免操作不如理不如法）。所以，我们一定要听师父的话，师父不让做的就不做。念经消业的整个过程非常坎坷。真是造业容易，消业难啊！但是，我坚信菩萨法力无边，只要精进努力，一定会得到改变的。于是，我依靠师父录音中的法喜案例作为精神支撑。我一直坚持不懈，不怕万难，拼命念经。
由于吃喝拉撒都在床上，气场非常不好，自己又无法起身，只能躺在床上念经。我内心愧疚又纠结，不知道这样念经是否如理如法？会不会影响念经效果？感恩菩萨慈悲，当晚我就梦见师父了。师父身穿着黑西装，一边慈祥地笑着一边安慰我：不要担心。醒来后，我非常感恩师父的慈悲。师父知道我的特殊情况，这是对我的宽容和安慰啊。后来，大概念经差不多4～5个月后，我的脖子和头也能明显地转动了。这样法喜的变化，让我激动万分。我过去所经历的磨难与坚持都没有白费。观世音菩萨法力无边，让我看到了康复的一丝希望！（作者提醒：师兄们，在没有病痛的情况下，念经一定要体态恭敬，一分恭敬一分受益。）
3. 参加法会与拜师的殊胜，让我的身体不断法喜蜕变
2017年2月份，我结识了一位师兄。她邀请我一起去参加澳门法会。我心想：我能自己坐车吗？能去法会吗？凭着内心坚定的信念，路途中我一直念《大悲咒》。虽然我笨重的双腿只能勉强支撑着身体坐在座位上，但在观世音菩萨一路加持护佑下，我竟然能够如愿到了法会现场。现场听到师父开示、看到观世音菩萨的圣像，我泪如雨下。大法会当天晚上，我就梦到了观世音菩萨！感恩大慈大悲救苦救难观世音菩萨救我于苦海，给了我新的生命和生活。澳门法会结束，我当即发愿：一个月吃素15天，放生一万条鱼。参加澳门法会前，只要走两步路我就要歇一歇，而且我的身体没办法大幅度活动。
澳门法会回来后，我的双腿开始变得有力，可以支撑起身子在平地上走路了。虽然还不是很灵活，但是比起原来像软泥一样瘫痪在床的状态，已经不可同年而语了。我整个人精、气、神也越来越好。我非常惊喜！师父开示过，每场法会有很多佛菩萨来加持大家！
2017年8月，马来西亚法会前，师兄们让我拜师，但我不识字。慈悲的师兄们帮助我代笔填写拜师申请表。师兄们告诉我，这次拜师的人太多，有可能排不上队，得等到下一场法会才有机会。我告诉自己，无论这次能不能拜师，我都一定积极参加师父的法会。我这么大年纪了，能参加多一场法会都是我的福报啊。让我惊喜的是，一个星期后，我的拜师申请通过了。感恩观世音菩萨慈悲！
拜师当天，我激动万分。在拜师过程中，我听到一个非常立体、非常响亮的声音。我睁开眼睛时，我竟然看到了如来佛祖，还有好多菩萨都从天上下来了。这时，我看到师父上半身的法身呈现透明状，有一朵大大的莲花。我顿时感动得泪如雨下。直到颁发弟子证的时候，我浑然不觉师父已经走到我的身边。师父非常慈悲，给我灌顶加持。师父说:“因为拜师过程中有5个人睁开了眼睛，所以莲花没有种上去。不过没关系，等拜师仪式结束后，可以到前面去磕头求菩萨。”我就赶紧跑到前面去拜。我还没拜完，就过来了一个年轻师兄。他问我：“您感觉怎么样？有没有看到什么？” 我告诉他：“我看到如来佛祖了。” 他说：“您怎么确定那是如来佛祖呢？”我说：”我家母和家婆是学佛人，如来佛祖头发卷卷的。”
感恩观世音菩萨与师父的慈悲加持。拜师结束回家我就发愿: 终生吃全素，不杀生。真是愿力大于业力，发愿后，师父又来梦里帮我治疗双腿。有一次，我半眯着眼睛看到师父从我的房间经过。师父问我：“还有哪只脚不舒服？还有哪个地方疼痛的？” 瞬间我就醒了，醒来我发现我的双脚没有了原来的沉重感，走起路来更加轻盈了。我激动地跟老父亲分享：“师父又来加持我啦！”感恩师父慈悲关怀着每一位众生。每次梦见师父，师父都慈悲给予加持，我的身体总会有惊喜的好转。
没过多久，我不仅可以分开双脚，轮流迈开步伐独立上下楼梯。而且，我双手叉腰，可以前后自如地弯腰。后背的骨头原本因为全部错位并高低不平，如今完全恢复正常了。原本我没办法把手举起来洗脸、刷牙和梳头，因为手一抬，后背的骨头扯神经会导致剧烈的疼痛。每次打喷嚏或排泄的时候，都有种痛不欲生的感觉，就像死里逃生一样。这种地狱般的日子让我历经常人难以想象的苦痛折磨。然而现在，我的生活可以完全自理并且行动自如。有时候走太久会有一点点累，但是卧床休息十几分钟就可以恢复过来。虽然走路还有一点点高低现象，但如果不仔细看，是看不出来的。看到我学佛念经以来，从瘫痪卧床到独立行走的巨大变化，我的家人无比震惊。当年在床头边照顾我的老父亲直夸我：现在整个人完全变了，变得越来越健康了！我激动得泪眼婆娑。没有观世音菩萨与师父的大慈大悲救苦救难，真的不会有我今天的法喜蜕变！
2019年印尼法会和新加坡法会上，我恳请师兄们慈悲给我做义工的机会。按照法会规定，我已经超龄了。但是，我坚决一定要做义工。观世音菩萨给了我第二次生命，我就要身体力行地为众生服务。感恩观世音菩萨的慈悲，让我能如愿以偿。从法会做完义工回来，我发现我可以轻松自如地弯腰和下蹲，就连坐在地板上也没有问题了。感恩菩萨每次法会上都慈悲帮我消业，让我每次都能有不可思议的加持，变化。
4. 设佛台的不可思议加持，加速我身体恢复健康，创造医学奇迹
从2017年设佛台起，我每天坚持上早晚香。起初，身体还是直直的，不能弯腰鞠躬。两年里，我每天在佛台前上香求菩萨加持，让我身体能恢复得更好一些，能为众生表法。慢慢地，我从站着上香到弯腰鞠躬，到最后可以跪在佛台前念经。真是法喜充满啊！刚开始跪着后背还是很痛。随着业障的消除，我的后背也不疼痛了。有时候和师兄们出去设佛台，遇到佛诞日，我跪着念诵《礼佛大忏悔文》足足有一个半小时的时间。许多师兄都坚持不下来，唯独我坚持到结束。真是感恩菩萨慈悲加持！
曾经，省医院的医生告诉我，必须做手术把两块钢板放进骨头里，但我回绝了。因为我坚信有观世音菩萨和师父两座靠山，我什么都不怕。在因果面前，佛是大药王。唯有诚心忏悔，学佛修行才能彻底康复。我完全靠学佛念经吃素、设佛台、参加法会做义工，积极弘法度人，才创造了医学奇迹：现在和正常人一样行动自如。我甚至去工地做小工，搞卫生、做家政弥补家用！那些曾经轻微瘫痪的患者就算做手术，也没有我恢复得快，恢复到如此好的状态。
读者朋友们，你们看到我如此天翻地覆的变化，还犹豫什么呢？赶快捧起经书念经吧！我就是活生生的例子，铁一般的证据。观世音菩萨真实存在，并且大慈大悲有求必应啊！
现在回想起年轻时开酒吧所造下的恶业，真是罪孽深重。不正之财赚到了，可是，因果报应丝毫不爽，不是不报，时候未到。在我人到老年时，所有的报应一涌而来。不但钱财全部用尽，还要遭受肉体病痛的瘫痪之苦，因果不空啊！奉劝大家一定要谨记师父的教诲：诸恶莫作，众善奉行！不以善小而不为；不以恶小而为之！挣任何钱财之前都要三思，切记不可为了金钱利益而像我一样造下如此深重的罪孽，否则果报如影随形！
没有观世音菩萨和师父的慈悲救度与加持，就没有我今天的重生！弟子许愿尊师重道、一生清修、终生吃全素、不杀生、不吃鸡蛋、不抽烟、不喝酒；一世修成，永断轮回。今生跟着观世音菩萨修心修行，永不退转。跟着恩师慈父卢军宏台长弘扬心灵法门永不停息！我虽然60多岁了，但是我要身体力行地为大家表法，起早贪黑地和共修组师兄们一起去助缘设佛台。无论路程多么遥远，多么艰辛，我都严格要求自己。哪里需要我，我就走到哪里。哪怕我在吃饭，只要接到弘法任务，我一定当即放下筷子，一刻也不能耽误地出发。
心灵法门灵验无比，观世音菩萨大慈大悲，救苦救难，法力无边，有求必应。只要我们有一颗虔诚的心，只要我们坚持念经修行，没有什么困难可以打倒我们！我的身体变化就是最有力的证据！愿我的真实分享给那些还在受着病痛折磨的人们一些启发，让大家生起学佛念经的信念，捧起经书念经，愿更多的有缘众生能够早日破迷开悟，自利利他，离苦得乐！
我的分享结束了，分享中如有不如理不如法的地方，请观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世一切诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请师父慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业障自己背，不让师兄们背！感恩合十！
分享人：感恩～全素
2022-02-28
请将本文慈悲转发给瘫痪病人及其家属
请转发这篇文章给瘫痪病人及其家属，您会积累无量功德。救人一命，胜造七级浮屠！！！
您想改变命运吗？
我们手把手传授您观世音菩萨的心灵法门五大法宝：“许愿”、“放生”、“念经”、“看《白话佛法》”、”大忏悔”。您将亲自见证如何通过佛法让自己及家人获得身心安定、病苦解除、冤结化解、智慧增长、学业进步、事业提升、家庭幸福。
欢迎联络我们
Lily佛友：sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
Lily微信：HanJing20210820
Disclaimer of Liability:
The contents of the presentation and answers, including text, images, and other information obtained from Dharma practitioners, are provided strictly for reference purposes. Due to the unique nature of individual karma, results similar to those experienced by the authors may not be replicated. The experiences and advice shared should not be construed as medical advice or a diagnosis.
In the event of an emergency, it is crucial to promptly contact your doctor or emergency services by dialing 911. Relying on any information found in the answers is done solely at your own risk. The translator and answerer bear no responsibility for the consequences. By using or misusing the contents, you accept liability for any personal injury, including death. It is imperative to exercise caution and seek professional medical guidance for health-related concerns.

I took my first shot of 2.5 on April 18th. I weighed 208 pounds. Today, May 18th, I’m 192.2. I learned more about my body in one month than ever! I’m 56F, 5’4, and pre-menopausal. It was almost impossible to lose weight. One month in and I noticed my hot flashes are gone! 🙌🏽 (IYKYK) and I actually lost weight. Weeks one and two, I had minimum side effects, absolutely no nausea, and no food noise. I had to force myself to eat. I took my shots in the evenings and would not eat anything at least 2 hours before or after my shot. I noticed the shot was more effective in my tummy vs. my left thigh. The third week the food noise came back, but I felt full. The fourth week I actually gained a pound and was hungry. However, I botched my last dose of 2.5 and only got 2.0 due to a bent needle. 🤦🏽‍♀️ I had a second box of 2.5 because I did so well, but this was no longer the case, so two days later I took another 2.5, which made my dose for the 5th week 4.5 and that worked! I ordered C - 5.0 due to the shortage, but it hasn’t arrived. I called my doctor to get a prescription for 5.0, and to my surprise I found a Walmart near me that had it. So I will officially start 5.0 this week until the C arrives and move back and forth. My symptoms were dizziness and feeling lightheaded right after the shots. Also constipation, and a slight headache. Wk1 - lost 6.8, Wk2 - lost 4, Wk3 - lost 2.8, Wks4-5 gained 2, titrated up to 4.5 and lost 2. I walk at least 5 days during the week. 20 min in the mornings and 20-30 min in the evening. I try to get in 10K steps. I do 10 min strength training two days during the week. I started drinking Fair-life protein shakes during week two. I only lift 5 pound weights. For me, when I noticed the food noise and not feeling full anymore, titrating up worked. Oh, and unfortunately, IPOP with coupons, but worth every dime so far.

Race information

• What? 3 Days at the Fair 50K
• When? May 18, 2024 ‡
• How far? 31.1mi
• Where? Augusta, NJ
• Website: https://sites.google.com/site/njtrailseries/fair
• Strava activity: https://www.strava.com/activities/11441314526
• Finish time: 4:40:46

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	4:30:00	No
B	< 5 hours	Yes

Splits

Mile	Time
1	0:39 *
2	7:33
3	7:31
4	8:01
5	7:45
6	7:56
7	8:08
8	8:00
9	8:00
10	8:27
11	8:04
12	8:11
13	8:08
14	8:10
15	8:06
16	8:10
17	8:43
18	8:09
19	8:40
20	8:21
21	8:38
22	8:39
23	9:06
24	9:05
25	9:56
26	9:45
27	9:40
28	10:16
29	11:07
30	10:20
31	11:46
32	11:00
33	6:30 **

• "Lap 1" was from the 50K start to the timing mat. ** "Lap 33" was the remainder from my GPS watch auto-split to the end of the lap/race. ‡ "3 Days at the Fair" went from 13 May to 19 May 2024 (yep!). I was there 18 May.

Training

This was a spring full of sharp turns and hard knocks. The original training went towards the Cheap Marathon in Derry, NH. (That race was reported upon by flocculus here.) Training then consisted of maintaining 30-40 weekly miles, with a weekly long run adding two miles from the prior week, with some fluctuation. My hometown is quite hilly, so I foregone specific hill training as all of my runs were not near flat. My final long run was 21.5 miles March 6 before tapering down my weekly long runs.
A freak snowstorm delayed the Cheap Marathon from 4/6 to 4/20, however on 4/9 I fell in my gym shower. Either a rib contusion or hairline fracture paused any running or training for nearly two weeks. Scrambling for some sort of race to scratch the itch and not toss away months of prior training, I found 3 Days at the Fair online – a six day affair featuring ultramarathon categories from 50K to 144H races. They offered a marathon category, with an alluring 50K at similar start times. Naturally, I signed up for shy of 5 more miles than a marathon. One of my running mates gave me the best advice that "ultra running is more of an eating contest than anything else." Considering that during prior marathons I had salt tabs and 3 or 4 GU packets, I thought more about this statement. Hoping my ribs and legs would stand up, I went for the race.
Note: If registering for this race, you can choose the specific date and time you wish to start it. Just stick to that time. I would end up toeing the line with three other 50K runners who opted for the Saturday 9AM start. One could have theoretically started their run any day between Monday and Saturday, at 9AM or 6PM.

Pre-race

The Sussex County NJ fairgrounds were easy enough for me to get to. Those who were not running longer ultra races had plenty of parking mere steps from the registration/food/starting line. (Those running longer races have opportunities to park campers, tents, and so forth.) Weather was gray and cool, at 58˚F/14˚C -ish. I ended up playing with how I'd pack for the run, before noticing racks set up after the start line into which you could place your water bottle so as to not hold it the entire time.

Race

For check-in, I picked up my swag (a plush bathrobe) and timing ankle chip. No bibs here! At 8:50, marathoners and 50K'ers were brought to the respective start lines, 0.1 and 0.2 miles after the timing mat. At 9AM, we would run against the sea of all other runners back to the starting mat, turn around, and continue in the anti-clockwise 1 mile loop course. This is why marathons are 27 laps and 50K is 32 laps – that quarter lap registered as "lap 1 completed," so 31.1 miles registers as 32 at the end. I'm getting ahead of myself!
I found the course compelling enough to follow. After the timing mat, there is a short uphill that weaves past the toilet and shower area, and toward a hairpin. While the 'pin itself was set wide, most of the time I would walk it because of traffic or weakening knees. This continued straight past a Camper's Row of sorts with mild downhill. The second half runs a long arch around the grounds, with a gradual gentle uphill. The course is paved except for a 200m segment of packed gravel – if it had rained, this part could've been muddy. The course completed after a shot down a causeway, and left turning back to the mat. It's this area where registration, fuel/food/catering, and timing is displayed. Overall, no real potholes to be concerned about, just 31 total laps of this!
Hydration and food – tons of everything including Impossible Burgers, PB&J, cola, and sports vitamins – was supplied after the timing mat. I kept track of which lap I was on with a big-screen projection. My name, lap number, prior lap time, and total time appeared. Every 30 minutes or so I decided to take in calories. This included GU Rocktane, GU Vanilla (sooooo good), two stroopwaffels, two ice pops, and a few salt tabs. It was roughly 400 or so more calories than I would have consumed during a race. Hydration was also a factor, that the course was completely uncovered made me feel hotter and "drier" than normal. I might have taken on about 50 fl oz / 1.5 liters of water. My stomach tolerated this!
The main causeway/timing mat area is where I stopped for water and stowed my foods so I didn't have to carry it around. Early on, I didn't understand where the timing screen was, so took minor detours in the registration area. These factors are why my paces seem inconsistent by 30-odd seconds per mile at points.
The people here are amazing! Other runners were highly supportive, chatty, upbeat. One person was dressed up like a chicken (the race logo featured one), and another person blasted some pretty appropriate and popular tunes. It would be a game for me to guess the artist or song on every lap – we had a great banter going! Another group had a dry-erase board and changed it every few minutes or so with a new dad joke. Naturally, I had to stop to retort with another. For example, they wrote, "3.14% of sailors are pi-rates!" I replied, "if it's $4.50 in Jamaica for a beef patty, $3.50 in DR, and $2 in Trinidad, are those the pie rates of the Caribbean?" Sorry, not sorry.
The lack of proper training began to present itself around mile 22. Pacing was targeted at 8:00-8:15 per mile, with goal half-marathon splits at 1h45m or so. After mile 26, I was 3h40m44s, ten minutes off goal pace. Around that point I slowed, taking more walk breaks but promising myself to run at least half every lap. Landmarks were mentally set to designate where walking and running would occur. When I crossed the line I was done.

Post-race

From a mental standpoint, the concept of so many laps did not bother me. My daily runs more often than not are laps in my parking lot, and I've completed a few half marathons on traditional 400m tracks a few times prior – especially during the Global Pandemilovato of '20. Physically, my legs did not feel any worse than they would have after 26.2 miles. My stomach was actually doing quite alright – nausea and headache would set in within a few minutes of finishing other marathons, but not today. My buddy's advice is making me rethink my marathon strategy.
As the event is ultra-marathon focused, finishers of marathon and 50K received a coin. The longer the distance, the larger the coin, with special awards for those who have invested 100+ miles with the organization. (A paver brick [!] stamped with the runner's name is awarded after 1,500 miles with the organization.) Either way, I circled back to the registration area to press my luck at burger availability. Unfortunately they were out, yet making more. While at the beginning of the race the smell of bacon and pancakes wafted onto the line, the sweet smell of success – naturally, manifest as deliciously greasy burgers – greeted us at the end.
Post-race nutriton in my car included Gatorlyte electrolytes, SiS Rego Rapid recovery, and 1.5 liters of water. I opted against the on-site showers and made the long ride home for one which was far more satisfying.
EDIT: Added info about registration. EDIT 2: Grammar.

Hi all, I am now a month past my trans lab surgery. My energy and balance are gradually improving day by day. Apart from my facial paralysis, the biggest lingering issue is the headaches- I still need to take ibuprofen or paracetamol every 6 hours or so to ward off really sore headaches and neck ache. Is this to be expected? Thanks for any experiences shared.