I am the cloud, storm's wild Pride A force of nature, un-denied At war with myself, leaving the earth satisfied Because I bleed out from inside
My tears fall hard a relentless rain Quenching the thirst of my inner pain The thunder roars a deafening sound As I collide head first with the ground Leaving the earth momentarily scarred
I've come from so many stages marred And worn on my heart like a warrior strong I am the storm that rages on I am the storm from ages gone
My darkness flashes a fiery light Illuminating the depths of my night I am the storm that will not subside Until I've spent my inner tide And have nothing left in or outside Every drop I've bled and cried Drained and empty I finally subside A storm that's spent and lost its pride. Leaving the tiniest part of this world my very own work of art or atleast I can say i tried. Even it its flawed I've stepped aside. When you don't see me its fear that I hide its just that I am empty clear skies in and outside. Under heaven over hell and my instincts lied.
I am the storm clouds wild pride I get excited and the highest point gets fried. I am humid and disconnected from all sides Bringing life the gift of growth as a bride

So prior to this I dealt with almost a decade of excruciating menstrual pain that ran up and down my back, painful bowel movements, difficultly with mobility, heavy cycles etc. I also have a family history of endo and fibroids. All my non surgical tests came back negative but last August they gave me 1 depo shot and ever since then my periods have been severely irregular but i’ve also not had the level of excruciating pain i once had?
My cycles last 7-10 days no matter what but sometimes they are 2 weeks in between, nothing for an entire month, then comes out of the blue, the 3 months I was on depo I spotted the entire time.
The only things I deal with now is extreme bloating that’s very uncomfortable and cramps but no bleeding.
The only other lifestyle change is that I got sick with some GI issues and I’ve lost a bunch of weight and changed my diet/started to exercise more but that was back in October and it’s still not regulated since.
Should i be concerned?

I am the cloud storm's wild Pride A force of nature un-denied At war with myself leaving the earth satisfied Because I bleed out from inside
My tears fall hard a relentless rain Quenching the thirst of my own pain The thunder roars a deafening sound As I collide with the ground
Leaving the earth momentarily scared. Ive come from so many stages " insert rhyme with scares please
I am the storm that rages on A turbulent sea where emotions are thrown I am the cloud that weeps and bleeds A force of nature in anguish and need
My darkness flashes a fiery light Illuminating the depths of my night I am the storm that will not subside Until I've spent my inner tide
And have nothing left in or outside Every drop I've bled and cried Drained and empty I finally subside A storm that's spent and lost its pride.

I’ve been heavy on meditation lately after my separation and I think everyone who is going through deep pain and heartbreak should try it out sometime. I would suggest the guided meditations on youtube, and just follow along with what they’re saying. It’s very relaxing and healing, gives you a lot of peace. Tap into your inner self, and just forget about reality for a bit. Just take deep breaths from the nose and long exhales (as if you are sighing) a couple of times and you already start to feel more calm. Meditating makes detaching feel very much possible to do. I hope you guys give a try 🩵

I was about to do IUI, I had my ultrasound and they found a tumor taking up the entire cavity of my uterus. She used the word polyp. Low chance of cancer. But now I realize it’s probably the source of all my pain and bleeding, at least that’s what the doctor said. I have a hysteroscopy scheduled. I’m happy to get it out but also just so burnt out. We are trying for a baby, this process has been years but it’s because of all these medical tests for me and procedure for my husband. My body literally grew its own IUD to block sperm. It’s like the universe telling me not to have kids. I have had SO much bleeding, like literally cups coming out of me when waking up and bleeding extensively at work. Every moment is painful. It might not even be all coming from the polyp.
The doctor said that I may also need laparoscopy for endometriosis lesions, but this is the first step. Has anyone experienced this??

Male Option A=Receive a life-like Sex Doll of whatever female(or male) Celebrity of your choosing. The Sex Doll comes with free maintenance/upkeep and will never deteriorate.
Male Option B=Receive a lifetime supply of pills that upon taking for the next 24 Hours, allows you to have Orgasms/Post-Nut Clarity last for up to 3 Hours instead of just seconds/minutes at full intensity.
Female Option A=From now on, every time you start your monthly cycle, you are whisked away to an all-inclusive 5-Star Resort for your whole menstruation cycle FREE OF CHARGE. Where you are pampered, spoiled, catered to and waited on hand & foot. Where whatever you need/desire to bring yourself joy while on your menstruation cycle, can be wished into existence by simply snapping your fingers/clapping your hands. Except for wishing away the bleeding and pain, you'll still have both of those to deal with. Once done with your menstruation cycle, you are sent back to your life.
Female Option B=From now on, it is MANDATED BY LAW that ALL Women's Pants, Jeans, Shorts, Capris all come with GOOD POCKETS. NO EXCEPTIONS. And, Roe V Wade is re-instated at the Federal Level ASAP.
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Hello all. I'm hoping to maybe have someone point me in a direction to bring up to my GP. I am 5'4", 96lbs, and 23F. Was 5'4, 115lbs, 17F. Current medications are Adderall XR, metoprolol, and the birth control patch. I am diagnosed with hEDS, endometriosis, and POTS. At the time of the discovery, I was on the birth control patch, topamax, and as needed rizatriptan.
When I was about 17, I discovered a lump under my skin near my left hip. At the time of discovery, it was small and not able to be seen above the skin, but was able to be felt. Since then, it has grown pretty decently. I recently got sick and lost a bunch of weight, and has made it visible above the skin; https://ibb.co/tYrS3Tx (not a great photo, but the best I've been able to get)
I have gotten it checked out multiple times by multiple doctors. Every single one has been able to feel it and has been concerned over it, so I have had several ultrasounds, and a few transvaginal ultrasounds. Every single time, nothing shows up on the scans. They will be directly over it or right next to it and unable to see anything. Due to that, they've just been making guesses ranging from a herniated fallopian tube, to a bloated small intestine.
At this point, it's beginning to hurt. It used to cramp only during my periods, but it's starting to cramp and hurt even while off, to a point of doubling over in pain.
Another thing is that I was not sexually active at the time that this showed up. I was a virgin. Which has ruled out anything related to that for it.
If anyone has any ideas of what I should bring up to my GP, or any idea of what it could be, I would really appreciate it.

So I've had hemorrhoids for the past ~ 4 years, started noticing them right before the pandemic went into full swing. Have had them treated by sclerotherapy maybe 3-4 times? They were really engorged the first time and one had to be retreated on follow up, but they've remained small with very light bleeding since - as diagnosed by analscopy. Had a colonoscopy done 2 months ago and everything was clear - don't come back till you're 45 they said. That said I occasionally have dots of red on the paper less frequently a good bit of blood on the paper and in with the "detritus", on a blue moon I'll turn the whole bowel red, there doesn't seem to be much of a pattern. Thankfully there's not much if any pain, but... Am I just going to have to make peace with shitting blood occasionally from now on? I really want to avoid surgery, it sounds like it has both a long and painful recovery, which I can't afford - I can't miss weeks of work because I can't sit from the pain.

I've had some issues with my periods for a couple of years. I'm nearly 20 now and have suffered from extremely painful periods for around 14-15 to the point where I have had to come home from work/school and not attend as I'm hunched over in pain and can't stand properly or vomiting. I don't always vomit, but it is an issue if I don't keep up on ibuprofen.
I keep doubting my symptoms, I've had horrible cramping during periods, cramping 1-2 weeks before my periods which is present after I run or jog up the stairs etc.
I finally went to my GP because I had some pain to my lower left side in the uterine region when I leant over a table and that area was pressed or on pushing into the skin in the area. At this point I also had to light pink bleeding with normal discharge, when I was not on my period. I was extremely put off going to the gp again because I was given another NSAID, which I took once and don't want to risk taking again because I'm scared it won't work and I'll be in pain and can't take my regular ibuprofen with, and told that I will grow out of it when I've had babies. I was also told no investigations can be done, because they wouldn't offer me a scan due to my age. This was mid-last year. And since then I've been taking ibuprofen, using heating pads and dealing with it.
I usually take around 1200/1600mg of ibuprofen a day on the first 3-ish days of my period.
I've recently started to notice symptoms like waking up with strong cramping pains and almost pelvic pressure which I notice during sleeping and which takes a couple of minutes to resolve when I wake up.
I wanted to see others thoughts on this and what I should try/do next.

This event, trigger, really shifted my awareness of how often (often), I mask pain, and bury my feelings. I'm always masking. I had no idea, how often I fawn, how often I"m "nice," when terrified of being real, angry, upset, not "nice", or even depressed. It was so bad, this one event that triggered it, that I dreamt of homicide, gee that's not being nice is it? That's what happens with years of suppressed rage, and being "nice", saying yes when you need to say No, or visa versa.
I fawn , constantly. This was until recently, hidden from my awareness. It doesn't' sound like a big deal, just another dysfunctional way to deal with the trauma fallout, until you realize what's underneath the fawning. That it's been suppressing decades of wounding and pain. Why I believe that when someone hurts me, I should grovel and apologize-understand. I"m not important enough to mind being wounded. Believing That self neglect , abandonment loss of self, is a necessary part of all relationships. I should pretend it's not happening, so they feel , idk, better? I need to keep quiet. That's what fawners do, acquiesce. Just smile, and pretend, "no, it's okay". You lose all self respect, you hate yourself, because you cant' find your voice. It's ......stuck, behind years of shaming for "Not being nice", being attacked for having an objection to the abuse, when someone hurts you-walks all over your needs-your humanity. You equate indifference of your caretaker with your guilt for minding the effect, the more it bothers you, (abuse /neglect) the more guilty you are, so you learn to smile when something hurts you, believe that the better you hide your anger and pain, the better person you are for allowing them to be them.
It's the depression and suicidal ideation, that tells me something is wrong. Living in this constant state of inauthenticity. "no , I'm not mad", while experiencing so much TMJ, headaches, neck pain. The pain has to go somewhere. I need to always be okay, with whatever way someone needs to be, whatever happens, don't' say no, someone might kill me, get angry, rage, call me selfish. Realizing how terrified I am of everything, how unsafe I feel out in the world, well of course, when you realize you're not showing up for yourself, and cant find your own voice. They can do whatever they want, ask for whatever they want from me, I can never say no, that's how I'm a "good person, tolerant, patient, and kind". Just nod my head in agreement , swallow my pain, acquiesce, be "nice", no matter how much it hurts, or what it costs me.
I didn't think I was that person, this constant fawner-it's shocking. When I felt it, the self denial, and what its' doing to me to abandon myself like that, I wanted to die of Shame. The fawning in place of all authenticity. Your soul disappears. And I wonder why I struggle with depression? Then this singular hopeful idea, "you don't' have to be nice all the time, you can say no when something isn't working, and it's hurting you". I wanted to die, at that thought, that , that might be true. So ashamed, that I've been living my life , my entire life, terrified of disapproval, fawning to avoid punishment, , terrified of being annihilated for giving myself a voice. I never realized that fawning was hiding my fear of death?!
After that all this, I just sat on the couch, and stared into the TV, thinking about everything that's "not okay", all the ways I liiiieeee to myself, smile and nod when I don't agree, while I'm gritting my teeth, and my neck is one big knot. Feeling like I can stop holding my breath.
So.....
"you don't have to be nice when someone hurts you, violates you, etc, you don't have to smile and "understand", it's okay to be mad, say you mind, say it bothers you, it's okay to want, whatever it is that feeds your soul , your not selfish because of it" .
Being guilted when your a kid, is a powerful thing. "your so selfish for expecting me to be nice, and kind, considerate and fair, for wanting things, happy things, loving things, safety". You just believe it. You don't know it's a massive lie. And you don't know how much you believe the lie, until you watch yourself say Yes, or smile, fawn, while your soul is screaming for authenticity, and youre dying inside.
I literally lost my voice. I notice it a lot when I'm with people, and I feel like my words don't' come out right, my throat gets tight, I stutter, make light of everything, everything is "no big deal, it's fine, no problem, " you know , because I'm "Nice". I would feel a feeling, it would get bigger, more powerful, and I just fawned it away, so that I"m "nice"......then headaches, neck pain, TMJ, nightmares, anxiety .
I was literally blocking me out of existence, so I don't have to feel the guilt and terror of being myself, and possibly offending someone. So, It was either finally show up for myself with some degree of truth, or die a living death-ashamed and silent. No amount of approval , or "safe" way to be you to avoid criticism, is worth killing your soul for. I've been avoiding myself for so long, out of sheer terror of myself and my "badness". Believing I would die, if it was exposed. Especially if you were different, and every single thing about you that doesn't' line up with "normalcy", is weird and wrong, dumb and ridiculous, too much, or strange.
The antidote......allow all thoughts and feelings to exist....try not to judge yourself for any of it. It's so radical a thought, that it seems unreal? Stop faking you.
To see yourself turn into a fawning mess, when you can't find your voice, as your bleeding out, struggling with where to put the pain and suffering for being ignored and dehumanized, self-abandoning, being systematically undone as a person ......is hard to explain. I never in my life thought I would be able to feel self love, and now I can feel it, this glimmer of a self. *Elaine Aron helped with a lot of this
Being you, shouldn't' mean burying yourself, killing your soul so someone else can live, so someone else can feel better, more attended to, happier-have a louder more important voice-so you need to be quiet , always silent.

ok so idk what community to join for this so here we go. i’ve had this thing for the past few months where every time i stand up for longer than like 30 minutes i have this super intense pain on the outside of my labia. it literally feels like a huge weight is being put there and my organs are gonna fall out. i went to the gyno and examined me and said that everything is normal.
i’ve also been on the pill for about a year now, but am recently bleeding PROFUSELY almost every day, with the most intense period pains i’ve ever had.
does anyone have this or know anything about what could be going on?? my gyno is not doing anything to help lmao

Let's just get to the gist to it. There's this boy, who we're going to call glasses. We both have fourth period math together with each other and sit right beside each other. We sit in groups of four in the class, and our table is centered towards the back of the room. Every day I had to help him with his work because he has trouble with understanding the lesson we're in. It's not like I'm a super smart student, but at least I understood the material. It wasn't a big deal for me. His grades overall for math and science are terrible. It's not a secret, the teacher has even made jokes before in the class about his grade. Everyone else at our table was pretty much the same way, so I felt bad that he had to sit with all of us.
I'm not sure how we got on the topic, but at one point, I was basically doing his work for him because he said he didn't understand anything, and in all honesty, I don't think he even was trying to do it. He had to have had some knowledge about what he was doing though, because when he finally did his own work, he would get every answer wrong. That didn't stop him from making dumbass remarks, using his phone to look up the answers to the questions, and watching tiktoks on his phone. The only reason I would have been helping him out, is because it makes the class more enjoyable. If you're just sitting there by yourself, the class can be really boring. He has this habit where he would just say the most randomness statements. For example, once we were in the middle of doing an assigned online lesson, he just randomly turns to me, and tells me I'm gay. He has no filter on his mouth. I don't pay him any attention, as I have never felt attraction to a guy.
Not saying he's ugly or anything, he's pretty average looking. I've seen worse looking people. He's got this nice taper haircut, and looks good when he keeps it freshly trimmed, he wears those clear glasses, and has a pretty nice big nose. Not in a bad way, but a good size, and shape. I don't think I've ever seen him without a black or grey hoodie. I'm pretty sure he has an addiction. He has a pretty average body too, a little skinny, but it suits him. It's not like it's bad or anything. I don't judge anyone on their looks. We're both about the same height, with him being about an inch taller, maybe? His personality is probably his most unique..? Interesting? attribute. He's not one to hold back from sharing his thoughts. Sometimes I have to put up with him making fun of me and my personality. Sometimes in a playful way, but I have a few traits that can be picked on. One thing that is probably his biggest flaw is his over confidence, and the fact that he thinks he's the best at everything.
He's constantly bragging about things. He's the kind of person that makes you want to punch him. Not the worst thing in the world, but not the best. When we first started having conversations, it was pretty casual and chill, but then it escalated into him getting to the point of being aggravating. He would say the stupidest stuff. He would make fun of the way I looked, my clothes, how tall I am, and just the way I spoke. I'm not a super social person, so it's not that hard to make me uncomfortable. But still, when he wasn't annoying me to the point of begging the teacher to move my seat, I could have some decent conversations with him. He wasn't all that bad. He just didn't have the filter between his brain and his mouth. That's something I respect about him. It's a good trait to have. He's the type of person that will always be honest, and won't sugar coat his words. Even if it might be considered offensive. We'd have a lot of occurrences when he would say something funny. I can't even count how many times he made me smile, and even laugh. I was never embarrassed or ashamed about laughing. Not once.
I can tell he likes the way I laugh. Whenever he gets me to laugh, he'll be staring at me with this big grin on his face. He doesn't hide the fact that he wants to stare at me. When he says something funny, and he gets my attention, he'll give me a smile. It's not a forced one, it's natural, and I can tell that he genuinely means it. Sometimes I'd feel him looking at me and I'd catch him staring. It was usually a quick glance, and he'd turn his head away. But I could see him looking. At first I was confused, but I eventually got used to it. I'm not going to lie, it does make me nervous. I don't like being stared at. It makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable. But I never told him that. He was probably just trying to get my attention.
He's got a very strong sense of humor, and a lot of the things he would say, even the most serious and inappropriate things, are actually really funny. The way he speaks, and how he carries himself, I can tell he has a lot of self confidence, and a big ego. He's not afraid to show it either. It's almost like a form of self expression. It's hard to explain. The way he expresses his personality, it's something you have to see. The funny thing is, he's not even a good student. I have no idea why he was placed in a class that was obviously above his grade level. The only reason he's probably passing is because the teacher lets him goof off. The way he talks and acts, I'm pretty sure the teacher knows that he's a big distraction to the class, and doesn't want to have to deal with him. So she gives him the benefit of the doubt. I have no idea why he even cares so much about his grades. He always talks about how he doesn't care, and that his grades don't matter. The thing is, his behavior shows the opposite. Every day he'll come into class, and sit there waiting for the teacher to finish instruction, and when we began to work, he asks me if I can help him. Sometimes he'll just copy my answers. I've never said no, and have always helped him out. I've tried giving him hints and suggestions about the material, but he just doesn't listen.
It's not like it matters to me anyway. If I'm not helping him, he'll ask another student. He's a real pain in the ass, but I don't blame him. If I were in his situation, I'd be the same way. He's not the best student, and probably one of the dumbest kids in the school. The funny thing is, is that he acts like he's so much smarter than me. Like he's better than everyone else. But he's not. He's just a stupid, annoying kid who's not very smart. But he tries. And that's what's important. So once again, we're sitting at our table, doing an assigned lesson, and everyone else is talking to the table mates or doing their own thing. I'm pretty sure the teacher was helping out other students who was stuck on a question. We were sitting right next to each other. I was doing my work, while he was on his phone and had barely even began the assignment. That's when I felt a hand rubbing up and down my thigh. I was wearing some heavy baggy jeans, and could feel his hand moving up and down. I looked and stared at him while removing his hand. He looked at me with this knowing grin, and turned his attention back to his phone. I couldn't even concentrate at that exact moment. He was just acting like nothing had happened. I could feel my heart beating fast and my face was hot. I don't know why, but it was.
A few more minutes went by and the hand returned to my thigh. I tried shaking it off, but he wasn't having it. He wasn't letting go. So I gave up and left his hand there. I couldn't even finish the problem I was on, I just sat there letting his hand rub up and down my thigh. I looked over at him, and he was just staring at me with a grin on his face. His hand was just gently rubbing, up and down, up and down. Then he stopped, and he slowly removed his hand. He turned back to his phone. I don't know what I was thinking, but I reached my hand over to his thigh. I didn't look at him, and just placed my hand on his thigh. It was a pretty firm squeeze, and he flinched slightly. It was almost as if his entire body stiffened. I practically froze up since I forgot to do the whole rubbing motion. It was probably the most awkward moment of my life. It wasn't the way I wanted to react, but my body did what it had to do. I started slowly, but firmly massaging his thigh, and could feel him starting to relax. His eyes were glued to his phone, and he wasn't paying attention to the hand that was rubbing up and down.
Eventually, I removed my hand as the end of class was nearing. He and a few other students started standing up and gathering their things. I remained in my seat, as I felt a slight stiffness in my pants. My heart was racing, and I could feel my hands starting to get sweaty. I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen. It was awkward, but I had this.. lustful feeling in my stomach. As I sat there, he went on the other side of me and slyly pressed his crotch up against my shoulder. I could feel heat radiating from his body. It was obvious why it was so warm, and I knew what was happening. It was a weird sensation. It's hard to describe. I could feel the heat from his pants on my shoulder. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it was enough to get me really flustered. I was starting to feel a little anxious. After that, the bell rang and everyone quickly gathered their belongings and left the room.
It was a weird feeling, and I couldn't even focus in class. I could barely think straight. I couldn't even finish the lesson we were assigned. I didn't know what to do. I was just caressing another guys leg. What was even worse was that the guy I was caressing, was the same guy who was always making fun of me. I was starting to panic. Was it wrong to have done that? Am I going to get in trouble? What if he tells someone? The only reason why I did it was because I was curious. What if someone saw us.
I'm really confused and I don't what to do. We've only have a week left of school, and then we'd have summer break. I want to ask him for his number. And I don't know why I want it. To talk? Hang out? Something else? What do people usually do to have fun with people like him? Should I ask him for his numbers?

My GF went to the emergency room in January because her hemoglobin levels were at 3.9, and she received a blood transfusion. She had been dealing with severe period blood lose, painful cramps, blood clots, for a few months.
Turns out she had 3 fibroids. After a few Dr. visits she was finally scheduled for a procedure to remove them. A week before, during her pre-op appointment, they told her to go to the ER right away: her hemoglobin levels were at 5.3 and she received another blood transfusion.
A few days later (this past Friday), right before her procedure the Dr told her to go to the ER instead of the surgical center because he felt the EHospital would have better equipment, so she went there instead. After a few hours of waiting she went into the OR.
30 minutes later the Dr. brings me a picture of what he called a "mass", it was 7.5 cm and another smaller one at 1.5 cm. He told me she's fine but she bled so much when he cut them out that she needed another blood transfusion. He wouldn't know what they were until they were dissected (hence the title of my post).
She's home now, only has light bleeding, no cramps and only pain from the procedure. She told me the Dr. called her on Saturday and explained everything to her and turns out he had to cauterize her where he removed the fibroids.
Does anyone have any experience with something similar? How could they not see the fibroids had grown the 2nd time she went to the ER? Did he cut out the fibroids, why would he now call them a "mass"?

I try to be as careful as I can when asking my face but sometimes I go too fast or towel dry myself a bit too hard and I look in the mirror afterward only to find I accidentally popped a zit and am bleeding. I know it’ll lead to weeks of PIH and it will be the only thing I think of all day.
I ask this because it just happened, zits in the tip of my nose I accidentally opened and now I know they’ll be noticeably from across the room.
I know there’s nothing I can do except wait it out, but for those of you that do this, how do you deal with it?

Does anyone miss their period for like 5 mins and then you remember the bleeding out, the pain, the anemia, the having to wear adult diapers and a tampon, the jumbo tampons the having to bring extra clothes, underwear cause you are sure something is gonna happen and then are like oh yeah I’m over it I don’t miss you bye Felicia but always thanking your uterus for kids ( if you have them) but that’s about it.

Hello everyone,
On Friday 05/17 (2 days ago) I had my upper left wisdom tooth extracted and my bottom wisdom teeth I had coronectomies on. The swelling on the right side of face is a lot less significant than my left side since it was just that one tooth that was messed with on the right. My left side, however, is insanely swollen. My cheek feels hard like its one giant lump and my bottom lip has "sunken in" so that you can't really see it. The swelling has also made its way up toward my eye and slightly up the side of my nose. It is pulling on the inner corner of my eye. I have followed all directions such as icing on and off every 20 mins for the first two days, taking my medications as prescribed (alternating the narcotic pain medicine with Ibuprofren every 2 hours), and today I started using a warm compress to no avail. I know it's only been 2 days since I had this procedure done, but this seems like a whole lot of swelling. The upper left tooth took longer to pull than expected because the root was hooked at the end.
With that being said, the feeling of my face being stretched to its limit on the left side is super uncomfortable. I can't bite down completely, I can't see much of my bottom lip, and the swelling is navigating toward my left eye. Is this amount of swelling normal? I can't even talk without it sounding weird.

I had a baby in december 2023. I needed something so I wouldn’t get pregnant. Decided to try mirena (IUD) even though I hate hormonal BC.
I’m miserable on mirena, I’ve been on my period for 21 days, I cry, I’m anxious and my libido is in the toilet. I’m considering taking it out. The pill and nuvaring ended up giving me migraines and other symptoms after 5 years. I don’t want the shot, the implant or the patch. I’m not getting my tubes tied because there are risks and it’s a full on operation. I’m out of options. I sorta wish my body would expel it so I would have an excuse not to have it.
We’re one and done. SO doesn’t want to get snipped because it freaks him out. Simple as that… the responsibility falls back on me.
Let’s not ignore the fact that I’ve been through pregnancy, have had to get 3 membrane sweeps, have had back contractions, have given birth, had a displaced sacrum, have had to deal with painful breastfeeding, a tear with stitches, bled for weeks after birth, have had to go through 2 IUD installations because the first was painful and unsuccessful and now I’ve been bleeding forever.
I’m just so frustrated. Don’t get me wrong, my SO is great with our daughter and was very supportive throughout my postpartum recovery. A part of me understands him not wanting to go through a medical procedure. I just need the BC responsibility not to be on me, I’m exhausted.

I just had to fight one of the worst raids of my entire time playing rimworld so far, the worst part is it was my fault.
to start this tragedy I while playing my new colony had gotten a quest to fight some raider for some good gear and though I could handle it fine. I quickly for got about this raid coming to me and sent both of my main fighters to a camp to steal some neuroformers so I could make a psycaster.
when the raid began it was simple enough, 3 guys with guns was manage able even without my heavies. I ended up fighting two of them at my side enterance and handled it pretty well, until I say the third had cyrcled all the way around to my back and shot my two other colonists before beginning to run when his friends were dead. I now had two colonists down while the only two with guns were bloody.
I started to go into damage control and tended to the two downed colonists which were bleeding bad. while this was happening the second wave came and set up to seige, me not wanting to waste time on them I use an orbital bombardment on them to just get rid of them but one survived. what came next was a small shoot out which lasted till the final wave came.
once the previous guy was dead I turned all my attention to the 3 new raiders that showed up. I held them at the same side entrance from before but one of them charge in and started to melee my rifle colonist. one my other shooter killed the one she was targeting she aimed to assist my rifle women who went down soon after followed by the person hitting her. like fucking angels my heavies came back and took the final guy from the back and I could start patching up me bleeding colonists.
to summerize what followed was days of suffering and pain as half my colony was forced to rest in bed due to bloodloss and infections, as well as suffering from mental breaks left and right due to stress and pain from having to deal with it all. the only one to die was my moral guide who died from an infection that happend during the raid and that she couldn't fight off in time, she was one of my first colonists and was invaluable to our survival for a long while. she was honored with a ritual and now is resting in a sarcophagus with the hope that one day I might be able to revive her. the colonist that I had planned to make my psycaster now is also my new moral guide and wears her friends mask in honor of her.

Hi, I’ll keep it brief so not to waste to much of your time. I’m 21 and male, I’m suffering from a chronic illness called krohn’s which is eating away at my intestines and I’m in pain all the time. Because of this I’m in pain almost all the time, I have painkillers tramadol but they don’t do much for the pain. I thought I would be stronger but after my surgery to take out a large piece of my intestine I completely lost any interest in being alive. I don’t see the reason anymore if I can’t be alive without meds then why am I here? it’s people like me why the next generation will have more autoimmune deceases. I genuinely hoped I’d die in surgery but I wasn’t so lucky. Im to much of a coward to do it myself and end up waking up distrought that I didn’t die in my sleep. I no longer look before crossing and barely eat or drink. I feel like pet for my parents. In the period leading up to the surgery (which I was very much against) I ended up wacking off on Omegle with strangers and met the nicest girl there and still chat with her to this day. But I think she’s a catfish as she’s almost never shown herself and does seem to want to. I’m a shit human, I hope if there is a god he’ll end it for me.

Urgh. OK. Throwaway for obvious reasons.
I met up with a friend I went to college with, he came to see me when he finished work. He's tried it on with me a few times. I've always said no, but for some reason today I didn't.
I told him that I didn't have any experience and I was scared, but he said he would look after me and that he had been with virgins before and knew what he was doing.
I just said please be gentle, but the next thing I knew he had pushed me backwards on the sofa and was on top of me. I kind of froze and then he put it in and it hurt so much I went dizzy and threw up.
I know the first time is normally painful, but is it normally that bad? Do I just have a really low pain threshold or something?
After I threw up he just carried on going for what felt like ages then when he was done he left. So maybe it is normal because he didn't seem bothered.
Im so sore now though, and I know some virgins bleed on their first time, but how much? Is it like a heavy period type amount?
Im so confused right now and I don't know if this is normal or if I'm over reacting?

anyone blowing out dried red nose chips and having nose bleeds sometimes
not snorting anything just existing

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

1 Trauma, to consider physical abuse versus self harm;

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

2 To consider mental disorder, probably psychotic - premature dementia

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

3. To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

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

3 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

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

1 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

END