TW for sexual, physical, medical, emotional, and religious abuse, childhood sa, suicidal ideation, and self harm
This past week has been incredibly difficult so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my mom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic (all fake names used). Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out. I hope everyone is kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their abusive moms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from my university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. Growing up, you’re never able to fully recognize what is healthy because whatever you experience will be your barometer for normalcy. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid? Yeah, something did happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding showers. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior-

• When I was 17 and you were painting my fingernails and berating me for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me.
• When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard!
• Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. They treat me like I just got home from the psychiatric hospital.
• Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha”
• When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic.
• Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.

I’m not mad at Chloe. I don’t feel any anger or ill will towards her at all. She was a child just like I was a child. She was failed more than I was failed. No child acts that way and assaults other children without learning that from somewhere. I blame her parents for what happened to her. I blame YOU for what happened to me. I vividly remember things that my aunt would say the same time this was happening about little girls and their bodies and I want to smash my head against the wall. Children are to be protected above anything and everything else, by you didn’t. Do I hate Faith and think that she’s a bad person because of what happened when we were 13? No. I fully blame you and Sharon. The amount of adults that have failed me in my life keep me up at night. I think about how different my life would be had dad been more involved and seen what was going on and taken me away from you. I am angry with him for that. I dream one day I will be able to sit down with him and tell him everything I have written about and he will hug me, support me, cry with me, and apologize for not being there more to protect me. But who knows, he might defend his child abusing, mentally ill wife and say I’m making up everything. Who knows.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.

Hi,
Context 1, Early June
I was medically withdrawn from school (selective, large university) in September of 2022. It started, in early June of that year, with me having my first cold when I travelled for a weekend event, in three or four years, and the cold was so bad, I was so confused and tired I almost boarded the wrong flight home (like I walked down the bridge and almost entered the wrong plane to God knows where, until I turned around and a flight attended had to give me like a very kind pep talk).
It started with a strep throat during that weekend, then I began to cough so hard I felt dizzy, and I didn't stop coughing until December of that year. It was the worst cold I've had in my life, and I think it was made worse by the additional focus on hygiene during COVID (face masks etc.), which might have weakened my imune system. It was my first time going out without wearing a mask, and I happened to catch a cold.
Context 2, Late June/July
When I returned, I was alone in my off campus apartment, my body would itch (and this didn't make sense because there aren't any insects like mosquitos or I guess even ants in this area since it's so arid), I would sweat when I slept in my air conditioned room, I would have to walk a mile from my off campus apartment in the Arizona like heat and climate of July and August while having a cold. When I entered my over-cooled central AC apartment (I would have to leave windows and doors open to make it warmer) from the 95+ degree weather (I'm from a cold area of the country, but I grew up in several continents, and I'd never experienced this much heat), my stomach would begin to hurt from the instant change in temperature. I had to do really important work stuff that I couldn't miss, so I took different medications which caused my chest to hurt. I didn't want to go to the hospital because I was on the opposite side of the country, and I didn't know what would happen since I'm completely unfamiliar with how medical things are handled, and I had never stayed overnight in a hospital before, and I knew what I'm experiencing would probably warrant an extended stay.
Context 3, July/August
I then stopped eating, sleeping, and drinking water. Someone began spam texting me implicitly illicit texts (I would block the number, but another one would appear from another number, so like a dozen different numbers, and the texts weren't like a bot or automated, it would include photos and mention things I did recently e.g. go to the bar, it didn't ask for money or to download an app, it felt like someone I could have met or known irl was harassing me, perhaps as just a joke), and I barely give my number out and change it around once a year, so I was just so upset someone I knew gave my number to someone, or is doing this. Because of the delirium from the cold, I the began to send like weird (but not in any way, threatening or harassing, texts to mostly my friends who also attended the school) to figure out who gave my number or was behind the harassing texts. I had also experienced another issue with on campus, irl, harassment from a previous roommate that I had to report to campus safety multiple times, and I guess perhaps just because of the delirium, considering the digital harassment, I had become super persistent about my physical harassment that occurred just the semester before, and then an academic dean seriously offered to help, but then this led to a meeting with several deans. A day after this meeting, I emailed one of the deans to say that I am crying, and I was emailed at 8am to do a pysch evaluation at 11am in the morning. Because I hadn't slept the night before, and I had a feeling this would be a consequential meeting, in addition to having to walk 1 mile in the afternoon heat to this meeting, I asked to reschedule and then I was told no. Then I was sent a Maxient involuntary medical withdrawal letter.
Context 4, Now
I've been to about half a dozen pysch doctors (even one that's a lecturer at a leading medical research university), and about four therapists, since, and I haven't been diagnosed with anything definitively. My current therapist, who is a former (or current) professor in psychology, and I've met with since late November of 2023, still doesn't have a diagnoses. I present extremely well, and I'm usually more social and normal than most people (as in, whenever I do any internship or research program, I'm usually assigned management mentors, or tracked towards management as opposed to the actual job, since I just seem so social/"normal"), so I guess you would have to look really deep to find something. I know that I probably have a sleep issue, so after meeting with a sleep doctor, I'm trying to setup a sleep study. In the meantime, I've been prescribed medication to combat day time sleepiness. Other related medical issues include the fact that my dad has Cushing syndrome, and I'm pretty confident I have it, or at least a cortisol issue (I have the visible/physical signs, as well as persistent high blood pressure, and other symptoms). Then, I also have several skin issues, that I'm also treating as well. I'm also getting ready to get evaluated for an anxiety issue which multiple doctors think I have.
To be extremely honest, I'm kind of grateful I experienced this because I understand my body more, and how to seek help when my body is overwhelmed. Also, I kind of knew there would be an job crisis issue in April of 2022 since interest rates were rising and it would lead to less investments, therefore less jobs, so I've kind of enjoyed using this time to relax, travel, and learn new things. However, I'm starting to become anxious that I won't be able to return at all.
Question
Which leads to the question and title of my post, do time limits on withdrawals or leaves of absence apply to medical withdrawals or leaves of absence? My grades are pretty good, and I have no disciplinary issues, so I can still transfer, but I would still like to get back in, to be extremely frank, I would like to get back in first before transferring (just to tie up some loose ends to make a stronger transfer application). The way the communication (emails) from the schools non academic deans are worded, it's being made to seem as if I can't return at all (unless I reapply through admissions/the common app) regardless of if a doctor clears me. The way the letter is worded, it seems like I need to be cleared by a medical professional. My advisor, whose a non-educational lawyer, said I would only be approved to return if I take medication for 6-12 months. An email with a non-academic dean said this as well.
Side note
The most upsetting thing about this whole experience has been attempting to communicate this to people early on, who I usually wouldn't go to with issues, but my close advisors aren't familiar with academia and medical issues, so I've been forced to, and getting told I should leave the school or just college entirely because I have some severe psychiatric issue, that no doctor or therapist I've met thinks I have. It's I think part of what caused me to take so long, until I began speaking with my current therapist whose helped me kind of recount what happened. I feel like, it's very easy in similar situations to mine, to be directed towards potentially a wrong and inapt direction and I think the stem of this is the stigma around mental health.

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

Welcome back once more, for our final discussion of Armadale. I apologize again for the discussion being late. Last week, my excuse was that I had to spend time with my sister's family, including a labradoodle. This week, I am dog-sitting my mother's beagle, who has separation anxiety and gas. I am horribly sleep-deprived because this dog insists on sleeping next to my bed every night, snoring loudly and farting. Speaking of people breathing in poison in their sleep, let's get to the recap:
Allan has just set off for the Adriatic, with his cash converted to gold, obviously the result of Manuel's suggestions. Lydia and Ozias have been transferred to Turin by Ozias's employer, and Lydia pretends to have gotten a letter from her mother, asking her to come home, so she has an excuse to go back to London. Once there, she checks the newspaper for any articles or obituaries indicating that Allan has died. She also finds Mother Oldershaw's new address, but decides not to visit her.
After a few days, she finally gets the news she's been hoping for. Allan's yacht sunk off the southern coast of Italy, and everyone on board perished. Her next step is to write to Bashwood:
My dearest Bashwood,
I desire you... I mean, I desire to *meet with you... to apologize for my previous behavior towards you. I have foolishly made the mistake of marrying an immature child. If only I had married a real man (realness not necessarily extending to his teeth and hair)!*
Please, do not show this letter to anyone. Let us meet clandestinely.
Sincerely,
Lydia Armadale (note the last name)
Lydia then considers the marriage certificate, and realizes a glaring flaw in her plan: Ozias's handwriting looks nothing like Allan's. In a panic, she decides that her only option is to get advice from Mother Oldershaw. Unfortunately, Mother Oldershaw appears to have found God, and no longer wants anything to do with Lydia's plans. (Of course, she refuses to give Lydia the signed paper that she was going to use to extort money from Lydia if her plans succeeded.)
While leaving Oldershaw's, Lydia runs into Dr. Downward... excuse me, Dr. Le Doux, totally legitimate sanitarium owner. She realizes that he may be able to advise her, and asks to meet him later at the sanitarium. The sanitarium is basically what you'd expect a 19th-century sanitarium to be: creepy old house with shelves containing jars of preserved "creatures," a "galvanic apparatus" for providing electric shocks, etc. No patients yet, though.
Lydia tells the doctor her story, leaving out the worst details (he doesn't know that she's the reason the yacht sunk, or that her husband goes by the fake name "Ozias Midwinter"). Downward agrees to assist her by claiming to be a witness to the marriage... for a fee of six hundred pounds. Lydia agrees, and he assists her in sending a letter to Thorpe Ambrose, claiming to be Allan's widow.
The next day, Lydia gets a visit from Bashwood, who delivers the news that Neelie is beside herself with grief, and Mr. Darch is handling the matter of the inheritance, which was going to go to Allan's cousin, before Lydia announced her claim.
Bashwood returns a few days later with a shocking letter from Yugoslavia: Allan is alive! This is where I'd normally try to write a funny version of the letter, but nothing I could possibly write would be funnier than the actual letter's opening line: "I have been the victim of a rascally attempt at robbery and murder." Yes, "rascally." Oh, Allan, never change. One of the would-be murderers took pity on Allan and didn't securely board up his cabin, so he was able to escape instead of sinking with the yacht.
Lydia turns to Downward for help.
Downward: What if we trap Allan in the sanitarium?
Lydia: And murder him?
Downward: WTF, no. We get him to agree to not press legal charges against us.
Lydia: And then we murder him?
Downward: I have so many regrets about teaming up with you
Lydia: How do we catch him?
Downward: You could get Bashwood to lurk around the train station and intercept him before anyone else sees him. Have him tell Allan that Miss Milroy was sent here because she was driven insane by her grief for him.
Lydia: Can we murder Allan and Miss Milroy?
Downward: I am running an unlicensed sanitarium under a false name, and even I think you're unhinged.
Lydia: Gwilty as charged
Downward: But wait, what if he doesn't agree immediately, and we have to keep him here for months? What if I have actual patients at the time, and they report us?
Lydia: What if...
Downward: ...please don't say "murder"
Lydia: ...what if he had an accident?
Downward: Oh. Well, if it was an "accident," that would be okay. I don't know how an accident could happen, though, if you aren't an inmate here.
Lydia: I'll think about it
Meanwhile, Bashwood keeps vigil at the train station, until one day he sees... Ozias, who is searching for Lydia because she's stopped writing to him. While they talk to each other, Bashwood can't contain his shock at hearing that Lydia is Ozias's wife, and accidentally calls her "Mrs. Armadale," which understandably makes Ozias suspicious, so he follows Bashwood to see where he goes, which of course leads him straight to Lydia. Lydia pretends she was never married to Ozias, and Ozias faints from the shock.
Lydia heads straight to the sanitarium, tells Downward she's going to be an inmate, and asks for a sleeping draught. Downward prepares the draught, but first places yellow liquid in a purple flask. He then informs Lydia of what he thinks they should say at the inquest after Allan dies: The two of them knew he hadn't drowned, but when he arrived in England, they decided to trap him in the sanitarium because, shortly after his marriage to Lydia, Allan had starting having a delusion that he was engaged to Neelie. Once in the sanitarium, Downward diagnosed Allan with an incurable and fatal brain ailment, and that's what killed him.
Downward has scheduled a "Visitors' Day" so that people will witness Lydia as an inmate in the asylum. The visitors are mostly women, because life as a woman in Victorian England was so boring, they had nothing better to do than go to sanitariums to gawk at the mentally ill people and see where they will eventually live when the hysteria finally drives them mad. (I am only barely paraphrasing. The actual quote is "In the miserable monotony of the lives led by a large section of the middle classes of England, anything is welcome to the women which offers them any sort of harmless refuge from the established tyranny of the principle that all human happiness begins and ends at home.")
Downward shows them around the sanitarium and explains how it will be run, including only allowing novels that make people feel comfortable. (I assumed this was an intentional satire of Wilkie's critics, and the notes in the Oxford World's Classics edition confirmed this.)
But then Downward gave a sales pitch that damn near sold me on his sanitarium. "I throw up impregnable moral intrenchments between Worry and You. ... Will ten minutes’ irritation from a barking dog or a screeching child undo every atom of good done to a nervous sufferer by a month’s medical treatment? There isn’t a competent doctor in England who will venture to deny it!" Considering I almost couldn't post last week's discussion because of a few hours' exposure to two loud children and a labradoodle, I'm about ready to self-diagnose with hysteria and deranged lunacy.
He also explains that while the bedrooms lack fireplaces, they're heated with hot water. This impressed me because I've read about Victorian insane asylums not having fireplaces in the bedrooms (since the inmates might burn themselves), but I always assumed this meant that the inmates were cold in the winter. But wait... the bedroom also has secret controls that let him open, close, and lock the window and door from the outside, and a vent that lets him pump gas into the room. Whaaat? I rescind my diagnosis of hysteria and deranged lunacy. I want nothing to do with this.
After the tour is finished, Downward demonstrates to Lydia how to prepare the poison, and then breaks the bottle so that his assistant (who doesn't know about the purple flask) will think there's no more of that chemical in the house.
Meanwhile, Ozias is stalking Bashwood at the train station. He thinks Lydia is cheating on him, and Bashwood is waiting for Lydia's lover. But then he sees Bashwood with Allan. After confronting the two of them, he learns Bashwood's story about having to take Allan to Neelie in the sanitarium. Realizing that Lydia is probably still behind Bashwood's actions, Ozias insists on going with the two of them. On arriving at the sanitarium, Allan is informed that Neelie cannot see him until the morning, but he and Ozias are welcome to spend the night: Allan in Room Four, and Ozias in Room Three.
Lydia sets Bashwood up to spy on Allan's door from a room with a grate in its door. She tells him to make sure Allan stays in his room all night. Later, watching from the grate, Bashwood observes Ozias leave his room and examine the fumigating apparatus connected to Allan's room. Then Ozias stuffs his handkerchief in the grate, blocking Bashwood's view, before going into Allan's room and convincing Allan to switch rooms with him.
Later that night, Lydia returns and asks Bashwood if anything happened. Too afraid to tell her about the handkerchief, he tells her nothing happened, and she dismisses him to bed. After almost convincing herself to not go through with it, she then starts the process of pouring the poison at five minute intervals. While waiting for one of the intervals to pass, she notices Ozias's handkerchief and realizes that Bashwood lied to her. She checks in Room Three, and finds Allan asleep where Ozias should be.
In a panic, Lydia rushes into Room Four and drags the unconscious Ozias out. She then continues to pour the poison, writes a last letter to Ozias, and locks herself in the room.
We end with an epilogue that rapidly ties up all the random loose ends. Lydia has been buried in a nearly unmarked grave. The doctor is apparently still running his sanitarium. Allan and Neelie will be married in the spring. Mrs. Milroy doesn't have much longer to live, but she's undergone a personality change for some reason and she and the Major are happy for once. Ozias is recovering and living with Allan. Mother Oldershaw is a religious speaker, apparently. Bashwood has gone insane. Manuel drowned.
But wait, one last thing: Wilkie has something to say to us. He wants us to know that he intended the dream to be left up to interpretation. Thanks for handing me a discussion question like that, Wilkie. He also shares a weird-ass story about how, after he'd finished the rough draft and while the story was in the middle of serialization, several people were poisoned in their sleep on a boat called The Armadale. Okay, Wilkie. Thank you for that incredibly weird anecdote.

I’ve always been large chested. As I’ve gotten older, they have only gotten larger and more difficult to deal with. I’ve wanted a breast reduction for quite some time now and recently brought it up with my family doctor. She said based on my size I would qualify for a breast reduction for medical reasons and encouraged me to call some local offices (she said I did not require a referral but would write a letter on my behalf to help my case if needed). The first office I called initially sounded promising as the surgeon there is well known in my area and has gotten good reviews for people I know. Once I gave them my insurance info to make an appointment, I get a call back after booking the consultation from the lady in charge of billing/insurance at the office. She proceeds to tell me that my insurance is accepted but the type of program my card is under is not one they generally accept - they only will bill is it’s for urgent medical needs such as for a breast cancer patient. I told her that I wasn’t pursuing the surgery for aesthetic purposes and it was in fact for medical reasons (but obviously not as urgent as a breast cancer case) but she said the office wouldn’t/“couldn’t” do it. I’m bummed, but didn’t want to give up just yet. I call another office in my area who has a different surgeon (also great reviews but none from anyone I personally knew) and leave a message to inquire about a consultation. I get a call back and I am told they don’t bill insurance and are cash only.
At this point I don’t know if I have any other options. I feel like I’ve hit a wall.. Has anyone run into this issue before with their insurance? Are more dr’s going cash only?
For reference, I am 5’ 3” and am currently a 36-38DDD. At my thinnest weight of 100 lbs, I was still a 32DD. I mention my size at my thinnest because I’ve had people tell me that I just need to lose weight, but that won’t solve the problem as I’ve been large chested from an early age. Genetics also play a roll as my mother was also large chested and passed away from breast cancer at a young age. Her mother also passed away fairly young from cancer (I’m not sure what kind), making me a third generation for potential cancer risk. Any help/advice is appreciated. Or words of encouragement if you are also going through something similar.

I'm fairly certain this post doesn't go against the rules but if it does I will take it down.
So tomorrow I'm going to give my GP a letter asking for an ADHD referral and my mum knows this. However I also want to hand in a letter asking for a referral for social anxiety as I have been pretty certain I have it for many years and I really want to see if there's any way my life could be made easier with a diagnosis. The problem is I don't really want my mum to know. There is no reason I shouldn't tell my mum she's very understanding and wouldn't have a problem with it it's just my anxiety that makes me not want any attention and if I tell her "hey I have social anxiety" I'm gonna get a lot of attention and a lot of conversations about how I'm feeling which I am not prepared to deal with, even if I tell her to leave me alone I will know she's thinking about it. There's no reason I can't hand in this letter I am 18 it's literally just my anxiety holding me back. I'm not even entirely sure what I want out of getting this diagnosis as it would force me to talk to doctors about my feelings too and I might not even get anything to help me out of it. Even if I do hand in the letter it might be months or years before I get any kind of reply. Basically in my mind I have 3 options.

1. Hand in the letter without telling my mum and end up telling her later on when the doctor calls me back. (This will likely result in her thinking I hide important things from her.)
2. Tell her about my decision and hand in the letter. (Resulting in a lot of attention and conversations which will make my anxiety worse.)
3. Just don't give the doctor the letter and continue living my life filled with anxiety knowing there might be something that could help me.

So I know the objectively best decision is to tell her and hand in the letter but I'm hoping some people who read this will know what anxiety feels like and understand why it's so hard for me. So, for those people, what would you do in my place? What decision would you make?

I've lived in Finland for the past 6 years and since I've moved here, I've had lots of issues with healthcare and KELA and I'm wondering if anyone else has experienced this.
I'm struggling with a lot of physical symptoms and illness. I've been near-bedridden for the past 1 year, on a sick leave from college and the doctors are being completely useless.
Instead of trying to find me a diagnosis for my illness and help me, they are instead trying to find reasons why I'm not sick. Every specialist visit feels like I'm put on trial and they don't even do any tests on me.
I have to wait 5 months for an appointment to a specialised doctor just for them to take my weight and tell me it's in my head without even doing a test.
I've gotten many letters in the mail downright denying healthcare for me because my physical pains and weakness, fainting spells etc are "clear signs of depression and I should visit a psychiatrist instead"
Having not even the muscle strength to get an education and having to do REPEATS of depression tests to prove I'm not just mental is honestly tiring.
I once called 112 to help me because I was on the ground and couldn't walk from the pain and they told me to go to the kitchen and get a painkiller. Dispatcher then hung up and told me she'd call an hour later. An hour later my own mother found me unconscious on the floor with my phone ringing next to me.
I hate the Finnish healthcare system

Warning this is a very long read without a TLDR
I left this sub and joined the ryerson sub in 2021. Leaving behind my big drive of notes which is what I assume keeps driving these posts talking about grade inflation to my feed. My last few comments were very similar to everyone’s posts as of now - grade inflation, unfair admissions, feeling close to your goals and it being taken away. 3 years later here’s where I came from and what I’m doing now, why it’s not your fault and to offer a bit of hope if it helps. :)
In grade 12 (end of 2021) I had an 89 average, I was rejected from the majority of life sci and health sci programs (if a school had both I applied to both of them) - mac, u of t, queens, western. I got into York psych, health, TMU bio, undeclared arts and psych (waitlist), Laurier health sci and ottawa health sci. (some of my programs might be off if it’s wrong, the overarching field is what I mean). My goal was U of T life sci and to go to medical school. Laurier and Ottawa were off the table after my family and I came to the conclusion that we don’t have the money for me to move away, removing my last two life/sci options. I honestly wasn’t a big fan of York leaving TMU as my last option. I really wanted a life science or health science program because the curriculum after first year was not simply bio, chem, physics so I veered from biology at TMU.
So I ultimately ended up accepting undeclared arts as I was waitlisted for psychology. At the end of June, I got off the waitlist for psychology and accepted that. At the time, I was seriously unhappy with myself I was angry at the fact that people were getting opportunities that I wanted that didn’t deserve them due to inflation and lack of standardization of monitoring of tests during online schooling and just overall how poorly my high school experience ended. I’m talking full breakdowns about how I worked so hard and got nothing in return. I had teachers who genuinely believed that I was one of the best students that they had in years and told me that I would go far. I had a teacher go as far as writing a letter for no reason other than to just say how proud they were of me and how they knew that I would do great - which at the time I truly didn’t believe after not achieving any of the goals that I had set for myself at the beginning of grade 12.
My first year of psychology was online for my first semester where I did decently well I got a 3.0 my second semester, ended up being entirely in person because the online sections of classes were full. At the time I wanted to do medicine this dream quickly got away from me when second semester in person classes left me with a 2.67 gpa for the semester. I had a realization looking upon my peers who were still completely online at TMU or at other universities had much much better GPA than me and I wouldn’t be able to get into medicine with my GPA. So again I felt let down by systems that ultimately led to further inequality in education. I let go of the idea of medicine and had no idea what I wanted to do after my undergrad.
After my first year, I decided to join the course union at my school, which was one of the best decisions I ever made. I met amazing people who encouraged me to do better, peers who were higher years than me and gave me advice when needed and from there, my grades got better. after joining the course union I joined the liberal arts union and from there I worked on about five more different positions over the next two years. TMU is generally not seen as the best school and it’s not necessarily “competitive” but that can work in your favour because there’s so many positions available whereas at other schools where people may be more inclined to take these these positions making them more competitive. Joining these course unions gave me so many opportunities and so many things that are now on my CV that continue to provide more opportunities, for example I was offered a job at the school based on all my experience. My CV is now what I would consider amazing with all the work that I’ve gained that is applicable to the field that I want to work in and because of my experience on my CV I got a research assistant position where I have a great academic relationship with a prof. And I got my gpa up enough it’s not near a 4.00 or anything crazy but it’s good enough for me to get into grad school.
I always knew that I didn’t want to stay in psychology after I graduated so I completed my degree in three years rather than four. I also want to mention you do not need to complete your degree in three years. There’s no need for it. Had I stayed for an extra year I would’ve had so many more opportunities with extracurriculars. It’s just I did not love the psychology curriculum enough to want to stay in it for another year. I had taken summer school courses before coming to this conclusion, and I had so many credits that I didn’t want to switch programs so I fast tracked. All that being said, do not rush your degree unless for example, you don’t like it and have plans to do something unrelated afterwards - for me it was a masters in a different field that the only requirement was a bachelor’s degree so I didn’t see the point in switching. Having gained all of the research experience and extracurricular experience in the field that I want to pursue is what made my degree nonetheless beneficial even though I wasn’t doing what I had originally planned.
As of now, I will be beginning my masters at U of T in the fall (not in psychology). I feel very accomplished and fulfilled with everything I’ve done and I feel like the person that all those teachers said that I was back in high school. While I didn’t go to U of T for life sciences, and become a doctor like I had thought I would I am going to U of T nonetheless for a field I didn’t even know existed. I found and great community and something I genuinely love by continually working hard after feeling like I was ripped off by grade inflation and online school. All of which is so minuscule to everything I’ve gone on to do.
Moral of my story is you might feel ripped off right now, that your hard work went unnoticed and you might feel like you’re never going to accomplish your goals. But the truth is, it's very minuscule to the potential that you have. And as long as you continue to use your work ethic and potential wherever you go, you will be successful. You don't need big fancy school. You can do just as well if not better at schools that are seen as less prestigious or competitive as long as you continue to put in the hard work that you did in high school. So please don't feel like you have lost something but feel that you have gained the potential to do more. If you’re truly uncertain about accepting a program, take the time off think about alternate fields and try applying again, it might be better than toughing it out in a program you don’t really care about. If you’re dead set on going to university this fall, don’t wanna take time off and want to apply again and didn’t get into the one you planned, join extracurriculars meet new people and keep putting in work and it will pay off.
And I’m not saying you’re wrong in anyway for complaining and feeling the way that you feel because I felt the same way. You’re all valid asf. All I’m saying is don’t beat yourself up and don’t feel like you’re the problem because there’s so many opportunities for you so long as you seek them out and take them and you will end up in a much better position in the end.

I mean, a client who never even teared up before… She (my motherly, lovely doctor) never saw real deep emotions on me i suppose. After 2 years therapy, and a 3 years gap i went back, and i managed to feel anger and a lot of things during 1-2 session, and i was a bit close to a breaking point, but i could not cry. One time i gave her a letter listing my deepest feelings, and she teared up, that session was intense. I think we really established a close relationship, and i really don’t have excuses to hide my pain, but when i am there i shut down, i smile, laugh all the time, i just can’t feel sad around her. I was thinking about trying to go there already crying, because i just can’t do it while i am there. And maybe from this point i could move forward in this process, but i am afraid this would a bit shock her or idk. I really have things to deal with now, and i don’t want to go there again and laugh everything off. She was so patient and caring. I know that i do not have to force myself, but i don’t think this is forcing, i just wanna get my self in that mindset before, and let her to act on it. But what would you therapists think? Do you consider it a breakthrough, or you would call the ambulance lol? I have massive anxiety around crying in front of others, i remember suppressing it already when i was 3-4… i am 27 now, so its like i am a master in faking my true feelings. I never really showed vulnerability which also badly isolates me from true connections. I have deep wounds with this topic.:(

URGENT!!!
Financial aid officers, please look at my letter and let me know if it is appeal acceptance worthy, and what changes I should make that'll benefit my chances. I have placed underscores on specifics for privacy reasons.
SAP Appeal Letter
Dear Student Finance Appeal faculty, staff, and team,
I hope this summer break has been warm and smooth sailing for you. It has come to my attention that I do not meet the “Satisfactory Academic Progress” and I may become ineligible for student financial aid. This would be because of my record of withdrawing or failing classes these past fall and winter semesters, causing my inability to reach the 67% of hours needed to fulfill. In this letter, I plan to openly express my reasons for failing to meet your standards and how I plan to meet and strive to reach even further in hopes of your kindness and consideration.
On ____________ a Friday night, my family and I became victims of a major car accident. Thankfully my family was left with only deep bruises and cuts. However, on my end, I needed major surgery ______ due to having a displaced, femoral shaft fracture. I missed out on almost a month of school, just months before my high school graduation. Two months later, I visited the ______________________'s campus to decide on where to attend university. Initially, I thought that my healing progression would be manageable by the time I started the fall semester, but I was wrong. My physical therapy, which should’ve been a 1-year journey, was cut down to only three months because I decided to participate in ________(Summer Classes in person at school ). Because of the school’s elevated campus, filled with endless stairs and uphill walking, I was left with painful and energy-draining walks to classes for the entirety of my first semester. It came to a point where the pain and mental distress made it extremely difficult to attend my classes, therefore where my decision to drop classes came in.
During winter break, I had a follow-up check-up with my orthopedic doctor, where I discovered that I had refractured my femur due to my physical activity on campus. He advised that I avoid stress on my leg, which was impossible. Again, this led to difficulty in fully attending and focusing on my courses during the winter semester. Some classes were easier to reach than others, such as walks to ______________where the walk is mostly flat, compared to a walk to_______________, where I’d have to walk uphill and go over several sets of stairs, which led to the downfall of my grades. The pressure of being a student abroad while also being someone whom people back home have high expectations of, my performance led to a decline in my mental health.
Due to these reasons, I decided to retake the dropped courses this Summer through ________________ since they are online. I’m also pushing my admission to the nursing program by a semester to catch up on classes and improve my GPA. To further ensure that my academic performance will not be interfered with moving forward, I’ve just recently gotten checked, and now I am 100% healed according to my doctor. This means that I should have no more physical trials holding me back from achieving academic success from now on. I’ve discussed my academic plan with my advisor, and she is quite understanding of my situation and supportive of the way I wish to go through my academic career. As a student studying at ________________ to only achieve a nursing associate, it is difficult to reach a certain number of credits without being a part of the nursing program because of the small number of classes needed. So, I kindly ask for your patience as I gradually increase my credits and improve my academic performance to meet your standard academic progress. My family is still in the process of paying the bills that we’ve been charged with since the accident, so my financial aid is extremely crucial to aiding in our financial situation. I kindly ask you to please consider my appeal.
Along with the appeal form and this letter, I’m providing documentation that proves my integrity and proof of my medical statements.

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[REQ] ($500) (#Middlebury, CT, USA) (repay $525 on 3/31/22) (cashapp, Venmo, Zelle)

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Moving and the apartment complex has denied my Doctor’s ESA letter stating that he according to the office he worked at, no longer practices in CT, and therefore the letter isn’t valid. They’re refusing to accept any other documentation, and are requiring me to pay the $500 dog fee to keep my dog on my lease as a normal pet.
Can repay in installments between now and 3/31 or all on 3/31
Thank you

Where do I begin. For the purpose of this post, I will use fictious names and locations as it is ongoing, and out of respect (even though she doesn't deserve any)
My name is Daniel. I am 35 years old, and i am dying. I have a disease called systemic sclerosis. I am currently on a supplemental disability plan, until I get approved for SSI (social Security). Until then, my income is about 4K a month. I own a home but after child support and bills, NOT INCLUDING gas, food, haircuts, medical appointments, and or emergencies like my fridge just broke. (which i never go out) I am left with $260 that has to last me a month. I also have three children who I have to take care of half the time per the 50/50 agreement.
Recently, I found out my oldest, (who is 13) is not biologically mine. I decided to look into it as I had concerns for a while since my divorce as her cheating was very rampant. I also had caught her in 2017 with a man in my house, which is what prompted the divorce. But FL being a no fault state, doesn't matter. I also had to pay child support since the beginning and WHILE LEGALLY Married since 2010 because she had applied for financial support like food stamps and government assistance then. I know what your thinking. Why didnt you stop it then? I tried. You cant take yourself off child support. I also never grew up with a father and wanted that two-parent household. I don't run from responsibilities, like he did. Its how I was raised. Anyways, I married her, tried to do the right thing, she lied numerous times. she never worked, and I worked 90 plus hours a week. To look into her cheating, was impossible at the time as I was never home. and to busy providing for my family.
fast forward to now. My disease started to become worse and over three years; it didn't reveal itself until last year fully to actually pinpoint what this was. for instance, I had in 2019 pain behind my eyes and horrible headaches to the point that I thought I had MS. following year, I had trouble swallowing for 3 months. next year itching in the skin for three months. But prior, I had visited various doctors to see what was going on, each time a flare up then would last 3 to four months, which again, when you don't understand what's going on, you need to take time off to go see doctors, run tests, but this illness was and still is very elusive. with that being said I had 5 jobs since its first flare up till last year to continue to support my family and to pay child support. as of last year. I'm having trouble moving on certain days, breathing and acid reflux and muscle atrophy. (disease progression) especially when this is going on, it worsens everything as this is flared up. I was working under the table to try and make ends meet as I was paying child support still. I should add that the child support with 50/50 custody was $1029 for three kids cause I was making six figures at the time of divorce in 2018. Last year however, I couldn't work anymore, and filed for disability.
In june of last year, I had asked Susan, to get the children school supplies, (which she never does) as I was still paying at the time $1029 in child support. She said she didnt have the money despite now making 70k and her new BF living with her and is working whom she cheated on me with. With me working under the table, I bought them clothes, haircuts, school supplies (ive done every year) but then, I noticed she went on vacation to puerto rico and got a giant leg tattoo. At the time, I had already known what I had, and I asked myself why the heck am I doing this? So i turned to an attorney to get it modified. Again, this is June 20th to be exact of last year. My lawyer, stated that this was only going to be a 90 day turn around for the temporary modification then we will go for the final.
Since then, I have gone for a DNA test. I had to know. I am dying. I wanted to know. And you may judge me for this. but i have filed for disablement for paternity, meaning I am removing myself from the birth certificate. However, in the state of Florida, a mother can deny this and so can the courts. before you judge me, I have many reasons none of which have to do with him other then his mental disability (Aspergers) This illness, as days go by takes more and more from me. As previously aforementioned, I am left with 250 a month. I cannot go get a drs appointment pay for groceries or start planning my funeral which I will start making payments on soon. He also eats three times the amount that we all collectively do (Not his fault) but I have paid enough both mentally and financially. He also has trouble communicating as my suspicions is, that he was born of incest (gross) which is why I was 'chosen' to be his father at the time. Before you ask how do you know? Lets just say she had an uncle 'leave' during that time.
anyways, in February, I had the temporary modification hearing for child support and needless to say it was a circus. My doctor was subpoenaed to be there by my attorneys request to better my argument, even though I felt we didn't need her, she advised me to have my doctor there. Well, he attorney attacked my doctor and me for an hour and 40 mins when the court case was only supposed to go for an hour. He said "you saw another dr Max so and so and they said it was all in your head" (again I had flare ups on a illness that hadnt revealed itself correctly since last year). So there argument was that I was doctor seeking to avoid child support. After I have paid for 13 years never missing a payment. Her lawyer also targeted people who are living with me. Now I'll admit that I said they were friends which is true but how else can I pay for my attorney? Cant work, cant sell drugs, cant rob a bank? So they want to take there income into consideration. BS. She also hired a private investigator to watch me exercise outside and stated that because I can exercise, I can work..... Ok. Where's the 23 hours of the rest of the day watching me in pain. or when do you have me on video of a flare up from this terminal illness? (that's what I wanted to say)
Although I was granted the temporary modification, of $209, I left the court thinking wow, this woman can cheat, commit paternity fraud, not give two craps about our children, live with her mom in a section 8 home, and here I am doing whatever I can and I've done nothing wrong but be lied to and this is how my government, my country treats me? No wonder men my age dont have children this is insane. The paternity issue wasn't even brought up they said that this isnt the place for this and that the disestablishment will be another trial for those wondering. My lawyer only spoke for 5 mins. Asking her about her income cause thats the only thing that has changed since 2018 since she didnt work at the time. Other than that, it was an attack on me and my disease arguing my ability to work.
after leaving that, I didnt eat for 96 hours. I have since been crying nonstop. Compilating suicide. I am already heart broken about my son not being mine. Sure does a terminal illness make me said, no question everyday. But a life wasted on another? Cause I decided to be a man and take up responsibility? thats soul crushing. And to say "well, there is a big chance the courts will deny your request' thats BS. If i go to prison because I was accused of a robbery for 13 years, and DNA evidence proves I wasnt there, I get out of jail and can sue. This is no different. If anything, DNA evidence needs to be more of a factor in family law than in almost every court of law if not as equally important. My bad for not investigating her infidelity not only in the beginning but also in the end. How about not being a POS. sorry rant over
gets better. Her mom and dad smoke in the section 8 house, kids reek of cigarette smoke and marijuana, all day. they dont take showers there, they were hand me down clothes, they live in the garage shared with there mother, that isn't air conditioned. and he makes only a few thousand less than I do a month. She stated in court that she pays her mom $500 in rent which is BS, she is only doing that now so that she makes herself look bad. I know she is doing pills, like oxy and what not. Id love to prove it.
after the temp hearing, in april, I had to go to court to contest my drivers license suspension as I hadn't paid child support since, august of last year. again, there is no way, I can pay my bills, feed my children, go to the doctor, pay my lawyer to end all of this BS and pay the current child support amount. and again, this final hearing is still not set yet. So they intercepted my tax return, even though the temporary modification was approved, the final is what gets it retro backed to the date of filing, so they took, a much needed 5500 tax return from me. I needed that cause one of the issues I failed to mention as well, hurricane Ian has destroyed my home and I'm still going through that process too. not to mention I am on payment plans with Mayo clinic and other various medical facilities. (no one cares) but the interest that accrues, makes it impossible to catch up. also, Florida department of rev is overstepping I feel, and asking for medical info to be sent to them as well as updated doctors letters to be sent saying that I am still on disability.
a few weeks ago, I got an email from my lawyer having a withdrawal notice from her lawyer. in the withdrawal, he stated that he cannot represent her, due to something she may have withheld or lied about (more or less wasn't worded like that but you can tell). In feb court appearance they never produced the PI report, or videos, they had medical info they shouldn't have had, and they had very outlandish comments about my lifestyle. So my lawyer filed immediately a motion to compel. meaning, we want to see everything you have on my client. this was filed almost immediately after court appearance on feb 20th. Susan has failed to provide any updated info requested by my attorney so on june 18th, we have that upcoming hearing.
in the mean time, I have sent my lawyer, a very heavily requested topics, such as "where did they get my medical records, if those were lies, what are the consequences if any"? What did exercising have to do with any of this despite various drs saying he has to or he will get worse.
I know wat you must be thinking, what about your oldest, how can you do that to him. Please listen. This woman has taken everything from me. And i mean everything but the roof over my head. I am seeing a therapist to help with the suicidal thoughts. it isnt enough. the reality of it is, I chose to be loyal and it bit me in the butt. This disease will rob me of everything, my teeth will fall out ( I had 5 cavities last time I went to the dentist) I haven't had a cavity since I was 30 and even then I was suspicious. And I am brushing 5 time s a day to save them. My skin is tightening, and my arms and muscles are wasting. I will literally be left with nothing. My organs will also start to harden, and I will have to start getting around the clock care.
I forgot to mention they (child support) recently, sent a letter to SSI (social security) saying that they would garnish my SSI before I even got it, totaling $1029. the incorrect amount. I sent this to my lawyer and she is looking into it. But it shows that child support will overstep and breaks every law or freedom you may think you have. I DO take care of my children. if they need a haircut i do it, school supplies clothes, anything I do it. And I do it, cause she wont. What I want to leave you with, is that woman can be dead beats too. Child support was designed to have woman off of government subsidized programs like section 8 food stamps and what not. Also to make the man pay for their children man or woman I should say, I know this. I am not running from my obligation. I just want Susan, to have to pay for what's she's done to me and the kids.
I would like to hear your thoughts on this, please comment and share, all names are fake, but everything else is unfortunately real. I know it was wordy, but I wanted to provide as much backstory as possible. And please. Respect my descions. When you are end of life, I hope someone would be kind enough to respect yours. You may not agree and that's ok, but I am asking you to respect them. Thank you for reading.

I mean, a client who never even teared up before… She (my motherly, lovely doctor) never saw real deep emotions on me i suppose. After 2 years therapy, and a 3 years gap i went back, and i managed to feel anger and a lot of things during 1-2 session, and i was a bit close to a breaking point, but i could not cry. One time i gave her a letter listing my deepest feelings, and she teared up, that session was intense. I think we really established a close relationship, and i really don’t have excuses to hide my pain, but when i am there i shut down, i smile, laugh all the time, i just can’t feel sad around her. I was thinking about trying to go there already crying, because i just can’t do it while i am there. And maybe from this point i could move forward in this process, but i am afraid this would a bit shock her or idk. I really have things to deal with now, and i don’t want to go there again and laugh everything off. She was so patient and caring. I know that i do not have to force myself, but i don’t think this is forcing, i just wanna get my self in that mindset before, and let her to act on it. But what would you therapists think? Do you consider it a breakthrough, or you would call the ambulance lol? I have massive anxiety around crying in front of others, i remember suppressing it already when i was 3-4… i am 27 now, so its like i am a master in faking my true feelings. I never really showed vulnerability which also badly isolates me from true connections. I have deep wounds with this topic.:(

I was never able to perform consistently in school due to mental health issues that went untreated because my mom was strongly against psychiatric medication of any kind. From ages 16-21 (Coincidentally also years 2016-2021), my grades in university classes were all over the map, sometimes an A, sometimes an F, and eventually I dropped out. Now as an adult who has had those issues officially diagnosed and treated, I'd like to transfer credits from the classes I passed to an undergrad program and finish my degree, then get my Master's degree. My understanding is that since I won't be able to transfer failed classes, they won't impact my GPA, but I will still have to send in transcripts from all universities I've attended when applying to grad school which will show spotty performance.
Do you think I'll get automatically rejected from competitive programs? If I'm trying for only top 25 U.S. schools for example, would a great GRE/GMAT score, spotless performance in my final attempt at undergrad (e.g. straight As for my final 3 semesters), and a letter explaining the situation with perhaps a letter from my doctor to validate my story work? Or will an algorithm auto reject me?
For added context I'm looking at IT and Business related programs at South Eastern universities (GA Tech for Cyber Security, Duke Economics program as examples. Not interested in an MBA or Law School).

Absolute shocker, after waiting 7 months to hear back on my first application, it got rejected.
I’m honestly in a heap over it all
I had a social welfare inspector come to the house Monday April 29th, sent off my current up to date 3 months bank statements as my application had been sent in November they need new up to date ones. (Fair enough) inspector only wanted to know about finances and transactions on the accounts as family Members have been helping me keep a float with no money coming in.
Tuesday 7th May after the long weekend, she replied thanking me that she got my up to date statements.
Fast forward to two days ago, Friday 17th May. I got my rejection letter. Which is dated Wednesday 8th May.
Long story short, they think I’m not enough pain and could do a categories 1 lightweight duty job that’s suitable to my age and skill set . My current job that’s being held for nearly three years is a good paying retail assistant job that’s physically demanding. The job has already discussed with me until I get my pain injection and *touch wood * see some kind of improvement, there isn’t any light duties I could do.
From the letter it appears the decision of me not being “ill enough” was decided in December 2024?!????? Yes the date is what’s on the letter. Yet they sent an office to my house end of April… for what, if it was already decided I wasn’t in enough pain. Make sense of that.
My life has been massively impacted the past three years, my mental health has never been worse and it feels like an absolute kick in the face for someone to decide I’m not in enough pain.
I’m going to appeal and have a doctors appointment this week, but I honestly am lost as to what the hell else I can include in my appeal as I included anything I could in my first application.
Any advice? 😞

In California I was fired three times from the same company while out on disability. I didn’t return to work while out on disability but received three separate termination letters all months apart with different dates. My supervisor was actually the one who recommended that I go out due to some traumatic events so that I wouldn’t lose my job since I didn’t qualify for fmla. While out on disability the company texted me nonstop asking when I was returning. They would occasionally say my fmla was denied and I would reply that I know, I’m on disability not fmla. They never once provided me with a form they needed. My doctor filled out all the forms they faxed to her and she has to confirmations that they went through. I reached out to them asking if they had everything they needed from me and they did not reply. My first termination stated I went AWOL. I asked them to explain this further and stated the above info to them. My second termination two months later was for not turning in required documents, which I had asked for and never got a response to. I even called and was told someone would call back. A week later no one called back so I called again. Same thing. The third termination I didn’t even bother to read because why at this point. My doctor suggested suing them for wrongful termination because the constant contacting and texting me truly did worsen my symptoms from stress and anxiety and caused me to be out longer. Is this even worth filing a lawsuit over? I’m sure the company has great attorneys on hand. I don’t even know if I could win. Just looking for opinions or suggestions I guess.
Eta: I could probably fight to get my job back but I feel it would be so toxic against me at this point that I don’t want to go back even though I loved working there and enjoyed the work I did. I was also complimented on my work and had never received a write up or any negative feedback. I was good at my job and I love working in general and feeling productive. So being out in disability hasn’t been a fun vacation and I was looking forward to going back. I’ve never in my life been fired before so I have no idea how to explain this in job interviews.

I'm involved in a malpractice suit and have given my records to the defense counsel. A few months ago, I've been receiving mail from Ronsin Litigation with lists of every doctor, dentist, etc I've seen, and that I will be charged AND it listed the wrong defendant in the case title. The defense counsel said 'I can't help you, I don't do Litigation'. I hen sent counsel a letter that i do not give permission to share my info, in case. On Google, the company looks sketchy. I've sent 4 emails, a phone call, and 4 oppositions filed in court for them to stop. It continues. My dentist received a letter. An ent sent them records. I have to call every provider on this list and tell them it's not okay. Are there additional steps to take to stop them? What next? Thank you

Hello, my husband has his fitness test tomorrow after failing his BP twice due to it being high (absolutely fine when at docs so just down to test conditions).. he has a letter from the doctors which is a printout of the conversation from when he went to get his BP checked and the results are on there to show they were fine..
Will this be enough for them to let him do it or do they need an actual letter stating that he is allowed to do the test as he has no underlying conditions?

Hey everyone - I know that soooo many people have posted about fingerprints/background checks in this channel and the FB group, but I haven't seen much instruction on what dual citizens should be doing for their background checks since we do not need to get Visas. My questions are as follows if anyone knows the answers <3 :

1. EU Background Check - I saw on FB that dual citizens of EU need a background check from America and their country of EU citizenship. Anyone know if we really need to get an EU background check? NALCAP instructions don't say that anywhere.
   
2. US Background Check - Went in person to get fingerprints done and got a letter in the mail saying I passed the background check. Is that the last step? Do I need to do anything further?
   
3. Medical Cert - Do we just go to the doctor and ask them to sign a piece of paper with their letterhead assuring we are of good health? Lol that feels too simple but thats what I read on NALCAP instructions?
   

Gracias por todo!
Atentamente,
A confused and anxious first year applicant