How concerned should i be that my rescue boxer did not eat this afternoon with his upset stomach? Yesterday he ate some some dog feces at the park (its a disgusting habit i got to figure out how to fix). Later in the afternoon he had small amounts of vomit/more like spitting up so i just gave him rice and chicken with a little dry dog food.
He was doing good this morning so i gave him his normal food. However this afternoon he has done nothing but lie in his bed and barely wanted to go for a walk. He then puked up a large amount of his dog food breskfast. Later this evening i put some food in his bowl and he wants nothing to do with it. Ive had him for 6 months and this is the first time ive seen him refuse food. Also last time he pooped was yesterday afternoon
Hoping he will sleep it off and eat in the morning. If not should i take him to the vet fri afternoon? Im concrrned if we dont go tommorow most vets would be closed sat.

My love, we’ve known each other for seconds and decades. I mean, somewhere in time we have. We’ve already had beautiful, smart, amazing children. A beautiful home.
And we’ve already died. I hope it was together when we’re old, like, at least 100, and in our sleep. Or, if not, I hope I die first — not only for the selfish reason of not wanting to live without you, but, also, because the world is so much better with you in it. I mean, all the amazing things you did and just the beauty of your existence. I mean, I’m in awe of your intellect, wisdom, and strength despite seeing it every day.
We’ve known each other for a brief moment and most of a human life. If I believed in God, I’d say we’ve known each other for an eternity. But, as we pass through our limited existence, there is no one I’d rather journey alongside.
You’ve got me believing what everyone says to kids growing up. You know, about how you’ll know true love when you find it.
I vividly remember hearing that from my 7th grade English teacher. The one who made the class memorize those note cards with all the prepositions. I memorized your face like I memorized those prepositions. Or the first 104 digits of pi. But I’d never forget your face — or any part of you — and I only remember like 32 digits of pi now so I guess that might not be the best comparison.
I know that my mom, my aunt, and anyone else in the other 50% didn’t get it right the first time. But, you’ve got me trusting my seventh grade English teacher and Shakespeare. I know that I’ve found my partner. Our mark is fixed. And throughout our journey through life, I will always love you.
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/124zv0g/about_life/je2aoo?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1&context=3
https://www.reddit.com/OCPoetry/comments/124tpn2/pigeons/je2axu1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=1&utm_term=1&context=3

Stephen sits at his table, scrolling through his Instagram feed on his phone as his wife Jennifer wraps up the finishing touches of the dinner she prepared for them. Stephen laughs at a stupid meme he sees as Jennifer finally sits at the table with her potato casserole that she is visibly proud of.
“Bon appetit!” Jennifer exclaims as Stephen puts his phone away and reaches for the nicely cooked chicken breast with his fork.
“This looks great, Jen,” he says as he kisses her cheek quickly.
“thanks, babe! I got the recipe off of Etsy! Tell me what you think!”
“I’m sure it’s delicious. I still think you should try to be a gourmet chef one day,” he replies sincerely.
Jennifer playfully scrunches her face and blushes at him “yeah, yeah, so how was work today? Did you design anything cool?”
“you know it! Just more microchips for factory machines that are gonna take over the world,” he replies sarcastically.
Jennifer chuckles.
A few hunger-satiating moments pass as utensils clink plates and teeth chew and mash vegetables and poultry flesh.
“Did you hear about that shooting at Bramble Highschool?” Jennifer queries.
“yea… that’s so sad, second school shooting this month, can you believe that?” Stephen somberly replies,
“no, it’s really sad,” Jennifer assures. “This is why I don’t want to have kids!” she exclaims sharply.
“I know, right?” agrees Stephen. “Can you imagine being a parent of one of those kids? Seeing someone you have given birth to, raised, taught how to walk, talk, spent trips with, vacations read them books at night as they went to sleep? Then you drop them off at school, never knowing you’ll see them alive again except when you show up at the coroner’s office, and they unzip a bag and your little seven-year-old that you love who was once running around the yard… I don’t know… spraying the dog with a water gun or something is now lifeless, covered in blood in the dark room of a coroner in a body bag?”
Jennifer’s eyes begin to well with tears as she pictures Stephen’s words.
Stephen notices her emotions and digresses. “I’m sorry Jen, I just get this picture in my head, and I just voice it.”
“No! it’s okay. You just speak it so vividly I just can’t help but picture it and… FUCK! my EYES!” she says as she wipes the tears from the sides of her face while she tries to savor her makeup. “jeez! you say it like it’s so real!”
“sorry,” apologizes Stephen.
A few more quiet moments pass.
“can you just imagine?” Stephen says again.
“what” replies Jennifer.
“I don’t know, like getting shot in the head or something.”
Jennifer is taken aback. She opens her eyes and gives a sideways look at Stephen.
“seriously!” Stephen says “it’s a wild thing to picture”
Jennifer rolls her eyes as Stephen starts down his rabbit hole.
“or even.. can you imagine, just like your brain? Exploding. What even would that feel like? The sensations you would feel. It’s like your thoughts would go wild as your brain would start to try to process it, and then you just wouldn’t be able to think?”
he trails off…
Jennifer is interested as she tries to picture what he’s saying. She squints as her mind tries to grasp what this would feel or seem like.
Stephen continues, “Like, imagine you’re sitting there, I don’t know, like at this table. Or maybe it’s me. I’m sitting here, and it all of a sudden feels like I’m about to pass out. I start to hear waterfalls, and it grows louder. My mind gets really fuzzy, and I lose sight for a moment like I stood up really fast. Then my mind goes haywire. I forget where I am. The table and food look like words that I’ve been staring at for too long that I’ve disassociated them, and they aren’t even shapes my mind tries to grasp at them, but it’s like trying to grab a sandcastle at the beach the more it reaches for it, the more it slips and destroys the very thing grasping. Colors, sounds, sights, shapes, then…..nothing. You watch as my eyes open wide and my left one bulges. Blood starts to drip out of my nose, followed by my ears which leak a little faster and it dribbles down my neck. Then My head bursts open with a wet-sounding pop like a water balloon that was filled way too much. You barely process what happens as you’re covered in wetness. Broken pieces of bone, like a shattered ceramic plate, are blasted across the room. You feel the soft jelly-like pieces of brain land in your face, hair, and arms. You feel something small and hard hit your cheek and fall into your lap. You look down, and it’s one of my teeth that was just chewing on the food you prepared. My eyes and blood litter the room all over the table but nothing on the floor beneath. There’s hair and blood on the ceiling. It hasn’t even begun to drip because it’s so fresh. You look up and see my detached body with my open neck spurting out blood… What would you even do?” Stephen asks.
Jennifer’s eyes are wide as she returns to the clean dinner table.
She recomposes her thoughts, feeling the dryness of the dining table below her forearms and the wooden seat of her chair.
“I don’t know,” she replies. “I would call the police!”
She shakes the thought from her head “what would you do if that happened to me!?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” Stephen replies “probably the same thing,” he shrugs.
Stephen places another piece of food in his mouth and puckers his face. He frowns, lowers his eyebrows, and seems in deep thought.
“what’s wrong?” asks Jennifer, “my potato salad isn’t that bad,” she chuckles.
He looks over at her, and his left eye bulges. Blood starts dripping out of his nose, and blood starts to dribble out of his ears. POP! Jennifer’s eyes force close as she’s sprayed with an almost familiar wetness on her exposed arms, and she feels something very small and hard hit her cheek and fall into her lap.
*edit Formatting

Read Part I
The past has a way of catching up with you.
It's been five years since my encounter with the Bloodscrawl Butcher, the infamous killer who left a trail of mutilated bodies across Cape Girardeau, MO, and haunted my every waking moment. Five years since I stared into the eyes of pure evil and lived to tell the tale. I'd like to believe that I've moved on, but the truth is, the scars of that harrowing night have never truly healed.
I'm Deputy Sheriff Tom Baldwin, and despite the horrors I've faced, I'm still here, doing my best to protect and serve the community I've sworn to defend. I've put countless criminals behind bars since that night, but the one who got away, the one who continues to haunt my dreams, remains elusive.
My life had slowly returned to some semblance of normalcy, the memories of the Bloodscrawl Butcher beginning to fade like a half-remembered nightmare. But fate, it seems, had other plans.
It started with a series of seemingly unrelated incidents. A break-in at a local convenience store. A string of mysterious vandalism. A car abandoned on the side of the road, its owner missing without a trace. Each event on its own seemed innocuous, but as the weeks went by, a pattern began to emerge – one that led me down a dark and twisted path.
As I delved deeper into the investigation, I discovered a chilling connection. Each of these incidents had occurred at locations that were significant to my life – the store where I bought my morning coffee, the park where I took my dog for walks, the road I traveled to visit my mother's grave. It was as if someone was toying with me, leaving breadcrumbs for me to follow.
My heart raced as I considered the implications. Was the Bloodscrawl Butcher back? Or was this simply the work of a copycat, someone who knew my history and sought to torment me?
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched, that every move I made was being scrutinized by unseen eyes. The familiar sense of dread that had consumed me five years earlier returned with a vengeance, and I found myself questioning my own sanity.
As the incidents escalated, so too did my fear. Late one night, after another long shift, I returned home to find my front door ajar, the lock broken. My pulse quickened as I cautiously stepped inside, my weapon drawn.
The house was eerily quiet, the air heavy with tension. As I made my way through each room, my nerves frayed, I found nothing amiss. That is, until I entered my bedroom.
There, on the wall above my bed, was a message scrawled in blood, the same chilling words I'd encountered five years earlier: "You're next."
I stumbled back, my heart pounding in my chest as the horror of the past came flooding back. The Bloodscrawl Butcher had found me, and this time, they wouldn't let me escape.
The investigation into the break-in only deepened the mystery. No fingerprints were found, no clues left behind, save for the chilling message on my wall. It was as if a ghost had entered my home, leaving only terror in its wake.
As the weeks wore on, my life began to unravel. Sleep became a distant memory, my every waking moment consumed by the hunt for the Bloodscrawl Butcher. My colleagues began to question my judgment, and I found myself isolated, both professionally and personally.
But I couldn't give up. I had to find the person responsible for the terror that had overtaken my life. I had to face my greatest fear and confront the darkness that had been stalking me for years.
The breakthrough came when I least expected it. A late-night phone call from an informant led me to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The informant claimed to have seen someone fitting the Bloodscrawl Butcher's description lurking in the shadows, watching me from a distance.
With a mixture of dread and determination, I made my way to the warehouse, each step taking me closer to the confrontation I both craved and feared. As I approached, the building loomed before me like a mausoleum, its walls bearing the weight of long-forgotten secrets.
My heart pounded in my chest as I entered, my flashlight beam cutting through the darkness, revealing a labyrinth of rusted machinery and decaying crates. The air was thick with the smell of damp and decay, and I struggled to control my breathing as I ventured deeper into the darkness.
The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of my own footsteps echoing through the cavernous space. As I made my way through the warehouse, I couldn't help but feel that I was walking into a trap, that the Bloodscrawl Butcher was watching me, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And then, there it was – a sound that sent chills down my spine. The slow, deliberate scrape of metal on concrete, as if someone were dragging a blade across the floor. My pulse quickened, and I raised my weapon, prepared to face the nightmare that had haunted me for so long.
As I turned the corner, I found myself face to face with the Bloodscrawl Butcher. Their eyes, cold and unfeeling, bore into me as they stood in the shadows, a wicked blade glinting in their hand. They wore a twisted grin, a sadistic joy radiating from their very being.
My hands shook as I aimed my weapon, my voice barely more than a whisper as I ordered them to drop the knife. But the Bloodscrawl Butcher only laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the warehouse like a death knell.
They lunged at me, their blade slashing through the air as I dodged, narrowly avoiding the deadly weapon. Our dance of death continued, each of us vying for control, the outcome hanging in the balance.
As the struggle wore on, I could feel my strength waning, my desperation growing. I knew that if I didn't end this now, the Bloodscrawl Butcher would claim another victim – me.
In a final, desperate attempt, I managed to disarm the Butcher, sending their blade skittering across the floor. As they stumbled, I tackled them to the ground, my hands gripping their throat, my vision clouded by rage and fear.
As I fought to subdue my attacker, my world narrowed to the space between us, the darkness pressing in on all sides. And then, in a moment of clarity, I saw the truth. The eyes that stared back at me, filled with terror and confusion, were my own.
The reality of the situation crashed down on me like a tidal wave, leaving me breathless and reeling. The Bloodscrawl Butcher, the person who had tormented me for years, was a figment of my own fractured psyche, a manifestation of the guilt and fear I'd carried with me since that first encounter.
As I lay on the cold, unforgiving floor of the warehouse, my hands shaking and my heart aching, I realized that the greatest enemy I'd ever faced was the darkness within myself.
It's been months since that fateful night, and I've left the force, seeking treatment for the demons that have haunted me for so long. I'm beginning to heal, but the scars remain, a constant reminder of the horror that once consumed me.
The Bloodscrawl Butcher may have been a creation of my own tormented mind, but the truth is, they were no less real to me than any other threat I'd faced in my years as a deputy sheriff. The fear they instilled, the lives they destroyed, were all too genuine, and it's a burden I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
As I work through therapy, I'm beginning to understand the depth of my own trauma, and the ways in which it warped my perception of reality. The stress of my job, the horrors I witnessed on a daily basis, had slowly eroded my sanity, leaving me vulnerable to the twisted manifestations of my own subconscious.
But there is hope, and there is healing. With the help of my therapist and the support of my friends and family, I'm learning to confront my fears, to come to terms with the darkness within me, and to find the strength to rebuild my life.
Cape Girardeau has slowly begun to recover from the terror that gripped it for so long. The crimes attributed to the Bloodscrawl Butcher have ceased, and the community is working to heal the wounds that were inflicted on its collective psyche.
As for me, I'm taking it one day at a time, learning to live with the knowledge of what I've done and striving to make amends for the pain I've caused. It's a long road, and the journey is far from over, but I'm determined to see it through, to confront the darkness inside me and find a way to let the light back in.
And as I continue down this path of healing and redemption, I can't help but wonder if, perhaps, there is still hope for me – a chance to rise above the horror of my past, and to become the person I once believed I could be.
The Bloodscrawl Butcher may have been vanquished, but the battle for my soul is far from over. And as I face each new day, I do so with the knowledge that I alone have the power to banish the darkness within, and to reclaim the life that was once lost to fear and despair.
For now, I remain a work in progress, haunted by the specter of my past, but resolute in my determination to forge a new future – a future free from the shadows of the Bloodscrawl Butcher, and filled with the promise of hope, redemption, and ultimately, peace.

Hey mom! I’m super excited about going to the cardiologist this morning.he was a lot nicer than my last one,and he explained a lot of stuff to me in a way that made me feel better. I was diagnosed with a heart block, what the first cardiologist failed to mention was that it only occurred at night. My new cardiologist happened to ask me a couple of different questions, and is now thinking it might be a sleep condition, which would cause the same symptoms that I’ve been having! So hopefully I’ll get answers in the next month. But even if it’s not a sleep condition, than I at least feel a lot better, and even with a diagnosis, he did give me some advice to help with my dizziness and heart palpitations. Feeling so much better! Siblings— don’t be afraid to advocate for yourself. If something’s wrong with your body, listen it. Get the answers you need to feel better about whatever is going on. Don’t let doctors ignore you just bc you’re “healthy”.

I have two groups of girls in my house. Group one is 4 girls from the same litter no problems 4/5 months old and 1 girl I got from Craigslist that hadn't been with rats her whole life and she's older maybe 7/8 months old.
Group 2 is 3 babies I'm not even sure how old maybe 2/3 months old. Super sweet and mellow.
The problem is the oldest rat that's been alone. We previously had got a baby and she killed it in intros. But we thought it was our fault that we had gone to fast and that baby was so small. We were told by the women at the store rats will just accept babies so you don't have to wait as long 🤦‍♀️
Now we just did neutral intros and it went really well but we moved them into a 29 gallon tank to try to do the carrier type method and everyone was doing amazing until they the oldest rat had a meltdown.
Previous there way flipping and submission with a few squeaks... but she was aggressively flipping and the baby rats were squeak screaming. I stopped them but the baby was terrified in a corner heavy breathing the other four from group one (the older girls) came over and were comforting her and grooming her but the oldest rat went as far as possible away and was hyper sensitive if another rat touched her she was flipping around like a crazy person, shaking, and shivering all over. She didn't bite me or anything but we stopped it all because she went after the baby again and the baby was screaming with fear. It was scary and the baby was already on her back laying still and submissive.
What do I do? ALL of the other rats are getting along grooming, sleeping together, flipping and being submissive except the oldest rat. I'm really scared of the oldest rat killing the babies I feel like I won't be able to ever trust her with them. This is so scary. Is a 29 gallon tank to long for the carrier method?

Short context - So my brother was enjoying himself while playing this game called Overwatch 2. He often shouts and screams and I had enough and asked him if he could be quiet. He said no, so I expressed that I'd be shutting off the wifi router (which means he'd lose connection playing his game) if he didn't quiet up. I did this and suddenly he storms downstairs where I'm at, calling me an a s s hole and my mother argues in agreement with him, calling me selfish for doing that. So I'd like to know if ITAH or not?
Long context - my brother has his own room and I have one of my own. Ever since he got himself his own PlayStation 4, he's been glued to this OW2 game. The problem is - he shouts and screams and because I'm in the other room, I can hear it all! As I write this, I can hear it. It's late where I live and I've got work tomorrow. -_-
I work early mornings and am often in bed between 07:50-08:20PM. My brother works on and off days. This happens often where he shouts in enjoyment of his game and sometimes argues with people on the Multiplayer game as well. I get frustrated because I'm trying to sleep but often let it go.
When this happened, I decided that I'd give texting him another shot although usually it ends up with him saying, "Just shut your eyes." Anyhow, I texted him saying, "Hey, I know you're playing Overwatch but is there anyway you could keep it a bit low as I'm trying to sleep for work tomorrow. :)" My brother receives the text and moments later replies with, "close your eyes. simple." I then threaten to take off the wifi router, as a means to shut him up at which point he threatens to cut my PlayStation 5 cord which is located next to the router. This is all through text, I don't approach his room because again I'm trying to sleep. That - and our communication styles are terrible.
Anyhow, I decide that I'll take off the wifi for a bit and as explained above, he marched downstairs in upset. He has a pair of scissors in his hands and starts shouting at me about how terrible I am, because he was playing his dumb competitive OW2 game and I shut off the wifi on him. Our argument escalated, but gets us nowhere. My mom jumps in to call me disrespectful and selfish (no surprise, she's got favourites.) I realize maybe I was a bit mean for shutting it off, but wonder if I'm actually TAH here? Let me know, kind of curious lol

Two years ago I went out to the clubs near my house like I usually did almost every weekend (I was 22). I remember I was on my second or third drink of the night and my friends and I had only been there about an hour or so. All of a sudden i blacked out and have no memory of what happened the rest of the night/morning
I came back to reality when I was walking out of someone’s car and into my apartment complex, it was daylight out. I was out of it and didn’t really look to see who’s car I got out of, I don’t think I said bye to them. I was super dizzy and stumbled in my apartment and plugged in my phone and it was 6 in the morning.
Where I live, the bars close at 3am at the latest. I had no memories from 12am-6am
I was so confused as to how I got to my apartment, what I did, who dropped me off. When my phone turned on I had a bunch of texts from my friends asking where I was from 12am-4am, and missed calls from them.
I called the two friends who were supposed to sleep over my house after the bars and they said they came to my house after the clubs thinking I just went home but they were banging on my window and door with no answer. I contacted all the bouncers that knew me and they hadn’t seen me all night.
I have such a terrible feeling something bad happened to me all of the time. I have aphantasia so I can’t get flashbacks of any memory, but there definitely is a feeling in my gut. My boyfriend has told me I have said “I won’t tell anyone please stop” and other really weird things in my sleep. (I wasn’t dating him when it happened and I haven’t told him or anyone) I felt so sick at the time I didn’t even think to go to a hospital, I just sat in bed for two days.
For some reason in my head I thought I had just blacked out from drinking but I’ve never lost memory like that
Has anyone been through something similar? And is there a way to get my memory back?

**I'm going to preface this by saying that I AM NOT DEBATING ABORTION OR MY DECISION WITH ANYONE. IF YOU ARE PRO-LIFE THIS IS NOT THE POST FOR YOU. please do not waste your time commenting.**
I just found out that I (32F) am 4 weeks pregnant. I am not in a position to keep the baby & have already scheduled an appointment to receive plan C. I have to do this out of state because I live in TX & am in the process of making travel arrangements. I've told a trusted family member & they will be making the trip with me. Here is my dilemma: I don't know if I should tell the father of the unborn child who I'm super close with.
Backstory-
The father of the unborn child is someone I have known for 17 years. (We will call him "Z"). Z was my high school sweetheart (took my virginity) & we dated on & off throughout college. The relationship was very special but it was clear that we both had growing to do & needed to "get out there" since we had spent so many of our "younger years" together. I tried to hang onto the relationship well past its expiration date but ultimately broke things off. It was obvious that we needed to go our separate ways but of course, like clockwork, when I pulled away, he tried everything he could to stop it. I left anyways & he claims he was heartbroken.
After we split, I pretty quickly ended up in a serious relationship with someone that I was sure I was going to spend my life with. (We will call this person E). At this point, I cut all communication with Z. Z stayed single for several years but eventually entered into a serious relationship as well. E & I had 2 children together & begun building our life together. Unfortunately, our relationship did not work out & we decided to separate in 2020. Our children were 5 & 3 at the time. It has been a hard transition for them but we have re-established new normals & make sure they know that this has nothing to do with them & they are still incredibly loved by both parents. I have spent the past 3 years focusing only on my kids & re-building my career after being a stay at home mom for many years (prior to separating from E). I had essentially been in a relationship for the past 15 years & am now at a point in my life where I want to remain single for a long time. I feel like I owe it to myself & my children to place all of my focus into our future. I'm an extremely involved mom & my kids are literally my entire life. We are finally in a very healthy place & have established a great sense of community in our town.
After my separation, Z & I reconnected. Ironically, his relationship ended around the same time as mine. Over the past 3 years, we have hung out several times, hooked up casually, gone to concerts, talk pretty regularly, etc. It has been really fun reconnecting & getting to know each other again after so many years apart & it is obvious that there is still a spark. HOWEVER, I have made it clear that I am not looking for a serious relationship for the foreseeable future. I am happy being friends & seeing each other when I happen to have free time, but I do not go out of my way to make it happen & he knows where my priorities lie. Likewise, I have told him that I do NOT want to hold him back from dating/exploring other relationships & he is welcome to do so without it effecting our friendship. He has said that he has never stopped loving me & would like to be in a committed relationship, but respects that that is not something I'm looking for. He says he is happy to be in my life in any form or fashion.
I saw Z at the end of February & we ended up sleeping together. Prior to this, I hadn't seen him since August. Fast forward to today, I find out I'm pregnant. I'm honestly shocked. This is my 3rd pregnancy ever & will be my first abortion. I am at peace with my decision & am now just dealing with the logistics. Enter the dilemma: I think that Z would be devastated to know that I'm getting an abortion. I think he would wonder why I kept my 2 children with E, but am deciding not to keep his. He's super emotional & sensitive & deeply internalizes things. He has struggled with self-worth & depression. Since reconnecting, he has said there have been so many signs as to why he thinks we are meant to be together, that eventually we will end up together, etc., but doesn't make me feel pressured to be in a relationship. He knows I am committed to my goals & my kids & respects that. I think that this will potentially ruin our friendship. I agree that our bond is special, but I am simply NOT in a position to have this baby at all. I really, really wish that I could talk thru this with Z because I could use the support. But I am so worried that it will destroy our relationship & would internally shatter him. He has never gotten anyone pregnant before & I know he wants to be a dad. I have made my decision & am committed to it. I am telling NO ONE except for my trusted family member who is going with me to the appointment. I guess I'm just looking for advice/support on whether or not I should tell Z. Tell him & have it potentially ruin our relationship forever? Or keep it to myself & just handle it? There is no swaying my decision so I'm thinking it's best to just keep it to myself. But I really wish I could go to him without fear of his response. If you actually read this far, thank you so much. I'm sure I included details that weren't pertinent, but I just can't/won't talk to anyone else about it & wanted to paint the full picture. I'm receptive to whatever yall have to say. I'm wondering if there's a perspective/idea I haven't considered. Again, thank you so much for reading.

-So, my parents never stop being angry at me. No matter if I did anything wrong or not. Every day I go up into my room to do my schoolwork on my computer, they think I'm doing inappropriate things and need to check on me constantly (I've never given them a reason to do this, and my history is very thoroughly gone through by them). They'll then ask me what subject I'm working on and I'll tell them, then they'll tell me to go onto something else, and then accuse me of having a bad attention span for switching subjects so much.
-On top of that, they make me feel so uneasy for some reason. If I hear their footsteps coming upstairs my heart starts pounding because it most likely will end up in me getting in trouble for the most minor thing such as forgetting to put away a pair of pants or something.
-They tell my grandparents and other relatives I'm behind on my homeschooling/online schooling, then refuse to help me if I don't understand something because they don't feel like it.
-I can't even ask for a Tylenol to deal with pain or if I'm sick because my parents will call me a drug addict (I'm barely ever sick or in pain)
-They shoot down every dream I have told me I'll never be able to accomplish them
-My mom tells me to enjoy being young and skinny because when I'm old I'll get fat
-They isolate the hell out of me (I have no friends because they think it's unnecessary)
-My mom often walks in when I'm getting dressed, then proceeds to come in because it doesn't make her uncomfortable, so it shouldn't make me uncomfortable
-My mother goes to a therapist where she talks crap about the entire family
-They won't let me have a lock on my door
-They go through my room to make sure I don't have a diary
-My mom looks through my trash to make sure I'm not hiding anything (I don't even have the privilege to leave the home, so I don't know why she thinks its something that has to be done)
-My parents bring me into their marriage issues and want me to solve them (I'm literally 14, I can't do that for them)
-Nothing I do is ever enough for them
-They put the responsibility of taking care of my little sister on me
-My mom thinks I'm possessed, and says she sees the devil in my eyes
-My mom doesn't like me reading books that were gifted to me in case there is adult content (swearing)
-When I was 11, I was wearing a shirt that was tight, but not overly tight, and my mom told me I was trying to get boys to look at my b**bs
-My mom starts crying for no reason if my dad yells at me, and tells me I'm making her upset and I'm a terrible child
-My mom complains she has to take care of me
-My mom makes me wear oversized clothing so I don't get raped, and tells me if I do it's my fault even if I'm wearing oversized clothes
-My mom points out every insecurity I have loudly in front of other people
-My dad talks loudly about how socially awkward I am if we go on a walk together, but they both don't do anything to get me socialization
-My mom accused me of watching porn when I was upset ( I was upset because I wanted to have a normal relationship with my parents, but can't)
-They yell at me for being awake past 2am, but I just can't sleep because I feel so anxious at night time
-I've had to learn to avoid asking them questions in case they take out their stress on me
-My mom yells at me for not being awake in the morning right away, then goes to sleep for another 2-4 hours
-My family makes weird comments about me that make me uncomfortable (for example, my dad says I'm never allowed a relationship, and he'll murder anyone I'm interested in, my mom calls me a hoe, etc.)
*There's so much more*

I had my reservations about joining this group. As a gay M26 with a majority liberal friend group, I was warned about nofap ties to incels, misogyny and rightist propaganda etc.
But this group has turned out to be nothing but the most inviting and positively helpful group of lads.
I’m not addicted to porn or masturbation(I think?). I masturbate as a sleeping aid. (Addiction? Idk) Porn just comes of as fake and I often get bored mid and have to power through so I can knock out.
Anyway I knew I needed to stop cause I always felt lethargic the next morning. I haven’t fap’d for 45 days now and resulted to using melatonin to sleep but that’s becoming increasingly ineffective. Fapping is slowly creeping in.
I’m a new business owner(only employee) and need to sleep to function at my best. The last time I did this it took me 2 weeks to get back to an unaided sleep routine. I don’t have that luxury rn.
I know I eventually have to get my shit together cause I never want to feel post fap shame again.
Anyway just wanted to share that reading these posts keeps me going. It’s a collective healing, despite the reasons. I stand very much corrected.

A pair of leaks have turned up on 4Chan that claim to outline details of Rockstar's forthcoming Grand Theft Auto 6. Fans of the franchise would do well to take these rumors with a grain of salt as there's no way to know for sure if any of these details are accurate. The leaker on 4Chan goes by Rhanadeng and claims to have been a friend of a disgruntled employee working on the game during 2019.
The source claims that this employee allegedly asked him to anonymously leak information about GTA 6. However, things later improved, and he lost contact with the Rockstar team member. One key detail is that this person also claims the game has been in active development since 2016 or 2017, with pre-production starting shortly after GTA V was ported to current generation consoles in 2014. The new GTA VI game world map is also claimed to be the size of GTA V and Red Dead Redemption 2 combined.
gta v mission One of the odder bits that this 4Chan user details is a minigame where players control a stream of urine from a protagonist using motion controls. On the protagonist front, there are said to be four in the game, including a driver called Walther Wallace and an unnamed former Israeli IDF person. Another, Thomas Branigan, is a smuggler who owns an aircraft called the Raven, and Marcus Burke is a drug dealer and father to a young boy.
The area is said to be based in Florida, with Vice City among the three major cities with one smaller city in the far northwest of the map. The game reportedly jumps around in time with part of the timeline set in the 1980s and other parts set in the present day. Missions aren't as linear as they are in GTA V or RDR2, notes the proclaimed leaker. Players will briefly visit a small central American island, but it's reportedly not Guarma. The game starts with gamers playing the role of smuggler, Branigan.
gta v car Supposedly there are multiple child characters in the game that mainly interact with Burke and his son. Switching between the protagonists isn't said to be instantaneous, but the camera reportedly zooms out and travels quickly to where the protagonist the player wants to play is located. Sleeping Dogs-inspired parkour is involved in the game as well, but to a lesser extent without wall running. The leaker claims that weapons function more realistically in the game than they have in past titles. An example noted is rocket launcher back blast that ends up taking out an NPC in one of the missions, where the goal is to destroy a helicopter.
Hand-to-hand combat is supported and is said to be similar to Red Dead 2, with the leaker noting it's harder to fight hand-to-hand GTA VI than in GTA V. Player characters can also gain weight in the game, and it affects character attributes as it did in RDR2. Mori Kibbutz is also reportedly in the game, but not much else is detailed about his character.
This leak isn't the first that has surfaced about GTA 6. Last December, a user on reddit claiming to be a beta tester, leaked a bunch of alleged details of the game. In January, another leak claimed that the game would launch in 2021.

Memory Transcription Subject: Krexel, Arxur Deserter
Date[Standardized Human Time]: December 6th, 2136
---
A dull pain radiated from my left temple as I slowly woke up, I tried stretching and heard the clinking of metal as something dug into my wrists. I noticed a pair of legs in front of me and my heart nearly stopped as I shot awake, struggling against the bindings. I whipped my head around and saw we were alone, I froze as he spoke.
“Why did you save me?” His voice was rough, my memory began catching up as I realized who was staring down at me, my mouth felt dry.
Mike sat at the foot of the bed, his head had been wrapped in bandages, along with most of his face. He had cleaned himself, but still looked half dead due to the sheer amount of blood that stained the visible part of his face.
“Tell me, Croc.” I was snapped out of my thoughts
“We got a new t-transmission from our Chief Hunter…” I choked out, his silent gaze made my scales crawl as I forced myself to continue. “S-She said that she was going to make a c-cattle farm for h-humans..and eat them..” I fought the wave of nausea from remembering her words.
“So you ignored direct orders from your warlord, why?” He said, I couldn’t read him at all…
“S-she said that the un-”
“The U.N.” He cut me off as I failed to remember it was an acronym.
“The U.N had destroyed all her food…that means they had to have destroyed all the farms in this sector!”
His eye widened and a smile crept across his bloodied mouth and I flinched, pressing against the back of the chair. I quickly continued, fear undoubtedly obvious in my voice.
“A-and Kes w-WHERES KES!” I shouted louder than I intended as tears rolled down my face
“Please don't hurt him- H-he didn’t do anything but what he had too!”
“Hurt me! Just make it quick for him!” I thrashed in my bindings and could barely see before I was struck across the face, the impact stinging slightly.
“Christ alive, fucking quiet down!” Mike growled, and then held his hand
“I’ll go get him if you calm the fuck down..” He slowly stood up and walked towards the bedroom door, still rubbing his hand
“^{Fuck that hurt…}” I barely heard him say as the door clicked shut.
---
Memory Transcription Subject: Dehi, Venlil Space Corps
---
I woke up face down in the bathroom, I promptly peeled myself off the tiled floor. Pulling myself up with the counter edge as I looked in the mirror. I looked like an Arxur h-
“MIKE!” I yelped and scrambled out of the bathroom, I stumbled into the wall and rushed down the hall, fear gripping my heart.
“MIKE! MIKE WHERE ARE Y-!” I collided with a huge figure as it left the bedroom and it sent me sprawling on my back, I groaned in pain as a shadow loomed over me
My muscles tensed up as it leaned down over me, I squeezed my eyes shut and kicked my legs wildly at my attacker. It grabbed my leg and I let out an embarrassing bleat of terror.
“Dehi stop, It’s me Mike!” A rough, gravelly voice as began flailing as I prepared for the Arxur to sink its claws into my che-
I opened my eyes, and saw a human holding my leg..My human!
“M-Mike you’re alive!” I gasped
“Are you okay Dehi?” He let go of my leg and pulled up onto my paws “I didn’t mean to scare you buddy..”
The relief of my Human being alive quickly evaporated as I looked up at him and noticed his face was wrapped in bloodied bandages, as were his arms. Something moved behind him and I lunged for his Side-arm, I tried tearing it out of the holster as Mike grabbed my shoulders
“Dehi stop, It’s ok!” Mike frantically wheezed.
I struggled for a moment longer as I noticed the Arxur was shackled by his wrists and ankles, it looked down and its hungry eyes locked onto m-
Memory Transcription Error: Subject Fell Unconscious
---
Memory Transcription Subject: Michael Chres, U.N Peacekeeper
---
I rubbed my temple as I held my hand up and the Arxur fell silent. I took a few deep breaths before opening my eye and looking at the two teary eyed crocodiles tied to chairs in front of me.
“I thought you fuckers didn’t like talking..” I hissed, one of them opened their mouth to speak before closing it.
I had learned their names were Krexel and Kes, they had saved my life and were now telling me it was so that I could kill them. They never stopped crying, with Krexel insisting I torture him in exchange for giving Kes a quick death.
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me you scaly fuckwits.” I sighed before continuing “I am not going to torture, or kill either of you I cannot and will not do that.”
“B-but Jech r-” Krexel tried to start speaking before I interrupted.
“I’m not finished.”
“I need to know you won’t strangle me in my goddamn sleep, nor run off and get yourselves killed.” I looked between the two Arxur.
“Yes, S-sir.” They managed to choke out in unison.
“Don’t call me sir or Human, Just call me Mike, Ok?”
“Yes Mike!” I rolled my eyes as I stood up and turned out the light.
“Don’t try anything, just go to bed or something..” I grumbled as I left the room and walked across the hall into the other Bedroom. With every step pain pulsed through my entire body, I still felt the burning pain in my eye socket. I crawled into bed next to Dehi, I pulled him close to me and rested my head atop his despite his gross matted fur. I had given him the last bits of painkillers so that he could sleep normally. I breathed a painful, but contented sigh as I closed my eyes.
---
Holy shit a chapter that doesn’t need a content warning? I hope it isn’t too much of a let down and I also hope you enjoyed an unnervingly tame chapter. Let me know what you think in the comments :)
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he got so used to me forgiving him. me leaving him was never a thought in his mind & so he never ever changed his behavior. we had the same fight way too many times. too many nights crying myself to sleep. too many times being accused of malicious things and being called a liar. too much time spent walking on eggshells for this man because i didn’t know what little thing would cause him to blow up on me and shut me out for the night. i did it for too long & it never changed. i taught him how to treat me by staying. i finally left when he insulted my new friends (who i was so excited to have because i had literally none) and he yelled at me and called me names. but IM the one who gave up? and “threw everything away”? IM the one who “got tired of trying”? i didn’t want to leave… i just wanted things to change. after a long time of no change, i just lost hope. i didn’t think it could be restored. over the course of a year, it just kept happening. and he still blames everything on me. because i was the one who broke up with him…

I’m a community college student and I’m doing my classes at home online. My Nm did everything she could to restrict me from going on campus. I only intend to stay for 2 years and transfer to a university. But it’s been so hard to just fucking focus.
It’s funny that I gave my Nmom my AirPod pros that have noise reduction and she’s the loudest mothercuker in the house. I’m really wishing I didn’t give those to her cuz I really need a noise reduction device in my ear NOW. She is so annoying and purposefully distracting me from my studies in school. She doesn’t even use the EarPods at all. What a waste. So now whenever I’m studying or doing exams or just in a zoom class she is like a fucking hammer drill.
She has no filters and when I tell her to lower what she’s doing she just doesn’t care! if I am studying or taking an exam or ina zoom! She doesn’t care! She only cares about herslef. So because of this I have to move rooms. She got extremely loud when she knew I was on mute in my zoom call, that was her time to shine. She made loud noises that the entire meeting heard. It was embarrassing. She even barged in my room when I was in a meeting, didn’t even knock. And I knew she did it on purpose to make ppls see her.
I find it saddening when I was asked if I have a room to study in? I thought my own room was fine but my mom is doing her absolute best to make me distracted. During my first semster she attempted to make me fail tm classes. It didn’t work. But man every where I go in the house she follows with her wracket. I can’t even focus or sleep. I’m starting my second year so one more to go! But I have to endure this all over again for 15 weeks. That’s 3 months. I know it’s possible to study and pass my classes. It’s just a lot of hard work to block it out. To avoid this I do most of mt work before mt Nmom comes home but she has been coming home earlier and earlier causing more havoc than ever before. It’s very weird. I get headaches every day because of my tolerance to my mom. It’s running out. She’s such a pathetic wierd woman

This is how I interact with people in my extracurricular (we are planning a health education activity pertaining to birth control):
“I am reminding everyone here of what they signed up to do because we ideally need to have our paper printouts ready by Monday, and because I want you all to look at the slideshow and add in a description of your method if I have not already made one for you.”
“Alright, I started making the slides during third period - a fair number of them aren’t done, I would appreciate it if people here would add descriptions (you can use planned parenthood or really any other website) to the slideshow and then we can maybe j copy and paste those - that way we kill two birds w one stone”
“By the way, we are hoping to finish descriptions (I will actually make a separate document for descriptions right now) as well as the Kahoot (we will need to meet - or chat here - to discuss Kahoot questions) by a Friday, March 31st. This deadline is coming up soon, so please make sure that you are checking the chat consistently and doing your part.”
“I have made the slides and have typed in the birth control methods I remember (I typed 7 of them in so I know we must be missing a lot.) I will type in brief descriptions of what each method is and what their effectiveness rates are”
I’m a senior in high school
I did a lot yesterday. I am tired, but I feel good/energized because of it. Yesterday, I went in and got the QR code for my extracurricular like I said I would, I got from one page to two pages of my white paper for Economics (our research paper on a particular topic) during class, I talked to my counselor about the mandatory number of volunteer hours, I completed all of our psychology assignments… I feel good! I’m depressed and tired and introverted so having days where I’m so productive is nice (I’m more productive this year in general than I was last year when I was taking a greater number of AP’s
Yesterday, I jump started on our slides that we have decided will be due on Monday (I made a few people’s slides for them, just to be polite.) I am partly doing this even though I have two research papers to write because I have been in the EC for the longest amount of time, and feel like the younger people may need guidance (and understand that everyone here has a busy schedule.) I also submitted the Google form and made a document for us to paste our descriptions on. I like the work we are doing (we are planning a health Ed activity - my group is the birth control group so we intend to teach students about our activity.) I am not much of an ideas person, but I don’t think I am inefficient.
I have been blocked by a lot of people ever since the pandemic begun (this really did start happening over the pandemic, come to think of it.) I personally believe that I was not one-hundred percent in the wrong in most of those situations or that this could technically, reasonably be argued or suggested.
I don’t have good social skills, I have really bad sleeping issues (or like I tend to get in bed later than I should, but this is partly bc of the time that my dinner tends to be made at… and the fact that my bed is uncomfortable, and that I have unresolved past trauma. But also because I can have trouble with just putting the phone down and getting in bed, although in middle school and 9th grade - pre pandemic - I was much better about this.)
In the extracurricular I am a part of where we teach the student body about different health topics, I have taken a more active role this year when we have had group projects (that was noticed by the facilitators the first time around.) It is harder to this time around, in part bc people have such busy schedules. However, I would not be bothered if I ended up being the one who mainly took care of things this time around even though in sophomore year I was (this may be a maturity thing, this may be bc I have more time, this may be bc the context of things changed.)
I have depression and anxiety. I actually do think about my older brother who is in rehab a lot even though I don’t like to talk to him on the phone when he calls (I think in part bc it reminds me of how much things have changed. It makes me depressed, and I have a few times, but generally I prefer not to, even though I don’t intend to cut him off and would really like to help him.)
I don’t talk to people a lot in most of my classes. I can feel stressed out thinking about what is likely going to happen or about like idk how the upcoming day will look. I know that it’s partly a mental thing/that I tend to stress myself out instead of just letting things happen naturally.
I do think I want to have kids, I’m just afraid of the changes it will make to my body, especially since I am a little below average facially (and black.)
I think that South Park is funny in spite of how controversial it is/was when it came out. I have the urge to rewatch it (alongside Mad Men.)
Something I put in the comment section:

1. I take on so many responsibilities in part because I am the oldest one in the extracurricular I am a part of, and because I think that in spite of my mental health issues, I want to feel like I’m doing something/like I’m doing a lot of things. I do like it when I feel that the facilitators have noticed/are noticing my efforts.
2. ⁠I can’t decide on whether or not I’d feel better if I did less. When I’ve done less in the past, I’ve found that I have the urge to do something, but whenever I’m over committed or have a lot to do I can find myself feeling somewhat stressed as I think about what I eventually need to get done
3. ⁠When stressed, I find myself overthinking a lot. My hands will start to sweat. My sleeping schedule worsens. Unlike my mother, I don’t think I am the kind of person that overeats when stressed.
4. ⁠I do think I can come off sometimes like I try to control others - I remember this is something my ex boyfriend sort of complained about (he may have used the word controlling… although he himself was not a good boyfriend, so I mean.) I had the impression based off vibes that maybe one or two people invested worked w on the group projects felt like I was bossy. If I am being honest, I did occasionally have the urge to “straighten out” my ex boyfriend when we went out (I once told him to walk w his head high - not like an order, but more like advice. I felt that he should instead of walking w his head down bc he is a boy, and I think that it is easier to respect someone who looks confident.)
5. ⁠My anxiety is usually about finances (I’m from a low income family,) social situations, sometime presenting in front of a group of people even though I’ve been told a few times that I’m good at it, etc.
6. ⁠I actually don’t really want the people I work with to take over what I privately feel to be my “leader” role within the group. Since I have been a member of this particular extracurricular for the longest, I feel like I should be helpful and really know what I’m doing

I become sick easily. I intend to start at community college. I have found twice now that I really enjoy working with kids - other than working with kids and reading (I actually have discovered this school year that I really enjoy reading and discussing the books I have read with both my current and former English teacher - I’ve been reading a lot of dystopian fiction and would love to recommend different books to people/help youth discover reading.)
I have been into Myers Briggs personality types for years, alongside enneagram types.
I recently almost cheated on something - I won’t say what - and the guilt had not left me throughout yesterday in part bc I was sort of caught yet not punished. I sensed initially based off body language today that the teacher perhaps lost respect me for because of it, but I can tell that they will not directly punish me and they did not actually just give me a zero.
My school had a job fair today. I grabbed a lot of things, I was thinking I may want to volunteer at the pre school. I am worried that my appearance may impact me in the workforce/I getting jobs.
I gave an in-class presentation today on Aldous Huxley’s novel “Brave New World.” I was nervous and think I talked a little faster than I should, but listed off facts I remembered and did make an effort to elevate my voice and make consistent eye contact.
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My experience of the world has changed as a result of the contact experience, and some days, I prefer to place the philosophizing on hold, put the material arguments away, and just assert – assert to know I still can. Not repeat, mind you – dogs, birds, fish, insects, blades of grass, all of them can repeat and repeat, all day long, live richly satiated lives as a result. Go ahead, quote a news story, send a link, describe what a character did on a show – sharing is good! Repetition breeds fluency! But now and then, be like the dream that changes your life, and mean something to the world by telling it a truth it wasn’t expecting. For example, in my awful little Florida Avenue apartment that was so dilapidated, the letter of record requested no damage deposit – the place was maximally damaged from the start, I guess. In that severely damaged place, I experienced a number of conspicuous metaphysical visitations of the sort that startle one into states of extemporaneous revelation, with an urgency bordering frenzy. Most won’t know what that last sentence is meant to express because it is difficult to depict in film or print – The Wizard of Oz skips past it with a song-and-dance number. 2001: A Space Odyssey overwhelms the screen with color. Stalker gives us the scene, puts its head down, roll credits. In 2011, I was startled awake in the night to an extraordinary cracking sound – the kind of splitting you sometimes hear at the beginning of a lightning strike, but all of it taking place right there in my bedroom with me. As I opened my eyes, I saw a broken box frame hit the floor across from my bed, right beneath where it had been hanging for more than a year. This occurred at 2am, the rest of the building dead quiet, the room lit blue by parking lot lights outside. I waited a beat to see if anything else would happen, then got up to investigate the mess. The pine box frame was broken in half along the top – a complete break, with the two ends of splintered wood visibly separated. The nail that had been holding the box frame in place was still where it was on the wall – I’d driven the nail into a place where there was wooden support on the other side. You do this by lightly tapping on the sheetrock with a hammer, listen for differences in sound. You could have hung a box of bricks from the nail I drove into the wall to hang that pine frame. Evidence suggested something had pulled down on the box frame with such irresistible force as to crack it in half on the way to the floor. The piece in the box frame was a laser print of a digital collage I purchased at the Artists Against AIDS benefit show, called Aladdin’s Cave. In the presence of the impossible, the mind’s first response is to deny it, as though our expectations wielded some secret veto power over the rest of reality. But sometimes, evidence that can’t be ignored opens the question up for debate – what is the nature of reality? The frame was clearly broken at the top, I saw it hit the floor, woke to the cracking of the timber – and in that moment, every cell in the stir knows: whatever the truth of the universe might be, no one teaches it in schools, states it in public, runs for office under its banner, manages a fundraising campaign around it. Truth, you swamp thing – where are you taking me?! Imagine one’s nearness to the truth of an experience like that is the opposite of what you might expect – the more you believe it, the more belief draws you to the edge of town, eyes fixed on the patch of ground in front of you, then into the country, over the mountains, and across the desert, until you are all but challenging the sun to a staring contest in service to a truth unknown. Was gravity altered beneath that box frame? Did claws of dark matter materialize around it to perform a feat of strength? Can the source of a cause and the target of an effect sometimes disconnect, like a crab from its claw or a lizard from its tail? The specificity with which the immaterial can wrap itself around all that we know, then coax us into taking our rest beside a miracle of missing wishes, sliding down a wall – are we but the disremembered thoughts that precede the waking? I dialect history will soon forget? I stood there in the blue, holding the frame in my hand as though it might tell me where it came from. I might have slipped a few splinters under an electron microscope, measured for traces of ectoplasm. I might have sought out a reputable reliquary with a help-wanted sign out front. Instead, I laid the burst frame back on the floor, thought of all those wishes gushed into the world, then headed back to bed, laid there with my eyes open for a spell. When I first woke – rising through sedimentary layers of sleep, following the sound of the wood splintering of its own accord, I felt my consciousness well up like the mane of a lion – not just awake but the sort of wakefulness that imagines a visitor is standing in the room. Even once I realized I was alone, the feeling did not go away, nor did it go away when I surmised that the rest of the wall art wasn’t likewise plunging toward the carpet. The feeling drew itself up and stood above my body, walked with me to the wall, picked up the remains of western imperialist philosophy or whatever, laid it back down. How many hands of fate are pulling box frames off walls in the halls of congress? How many around the Washington Monument? About the AIDS quilt rolled out now and then? When they cleared away the debris from the fallen twin towers, they used 7.5 tons of the recovered steel to forge the hull of a San Antonio-class amphibious assault ship for the navy, called it the U.S.S. New York. The ship’s motto is: strength forged through sacrifice – never forget. Every morning, the ship’s chaplain dedicates the morning prayer to a different victim of the tragedy.

Ok so basically the night before New Year’s Eve when my cousin ( let’s call him Malcolm) was sleeping over I had a weird dream. So I along with the rest of the kids in my grade were next to my schools building and out of no where I hear a fight break out and when I look to go and see it was my friend (ima call her Rosetta) and this boy who looked like a kid I used to like a lot but the closer I got to him he started to look different. He was Hispanic or Latino with hair going down to his shoulders like Eren Yeager and was wearing black. He looked upset and was yelling at her about something because it seemed like she was bullying him so I went up to them and asked what happened. I don’t remember what he said but Rosetta was teasing him for holding his waste like he was injured which is a weird reason to tease someone but anyways next thing you know we’re at my apartment building just me Rosetta the boy and some random adult. This boy looked upset and tried to open a door that was reserved for the neighbors and had an alarm for when you’d even go close to it and I didn’t want to get in trouble so I told him not to go near it but when he did nothing happened, the door was still locked and he was upset. He sat down on the door step pissed off and I felt horrible for him so I held my hand out and told him that it’ll be alright and he looked at me and smiled sweetly and took it. I told Rosetta to apologize to him and she did and we all went up stairs and that’s how the dream ended. Now, I’ve been seeing him a few times like once a month and every time we’re rather affectionate towards each other. Like I’d have my head on his shoulder with my arm wrapped around him and we’d hold hands and we’ve recently kissed. The weirdest part was that it would always happen when my cousin was around or when I was thinking about him. So one day I asked my cousin if he new a kid like that and he said yes back in 2019 or 2020 around that time and his name was Trevor, he was Puerto Rican and his friend but he moved to Canada. I wonder if I would meet him in the future but since I don’t really work with dreams and stuff I could go here to learn.

So I’m not entirely sure where to start this post this it’s more or less been a super chill, uneventful day. I hate my catheter, I’m sure most of us do tbh. I’ve got this stupid balloon pressing up against my bladder which is making me feel as though I’m holding some sorta flood gates together when in reality I’m completely void of any urine (the pressure is annoying and borderline making me insane lol). The day shift nurse, can’t remember her name at all, was great in terms that she stayed on top of everything including my pain. She probably checked on my at least once every hour to see if I was feeling alright. Dr. Ramineni also did rounds this morning and stopped in to see me (I honestly can’t be the only person that finds this man supremely attractive; I digress) he reassured me that the surgery went perfect and he not only managed to get me great depth and width, but also that my 🐱 would really impress me when I see it, keeping in mind it’ll of course be swollen, and that in his opinion it turned out great. I received dilaudid and an oxycodone in addition to the epidural also still running so I can honestly say that pain is borderline nonexistent, I’m honestly just stiff from being in bed and a little sore from the surgery site, catheter, and packing. Also my vagina has clearly woken up from its post anesthesia coma and has recently just randomly been clenching itself, which is…just wonderful (she said sarcastically) it’s not as bad as it sounds, but the pressure from it doing that around the packing is a little painful and woke me up a couple times from my sleep.
Ps: also can’t remember my CNA/PCA but she was so funny and cool that I hope I have her again in the morning. She wasn’t aware of me being trans though and when I asked for a change of sheets because I’d obviously bled through them her response was “girls it’s fine, if you’ve got your period I can see about finding some tampons. You don’t need to be embarrassed sweetie” Then we had a cute lil haha moment after I explained it to her. 😂
So let’s move onto night shift 😒 I woke up in pain at about a 7/10 because my epidural medication had ran out sometime earlier, hadn’t heard the beeping, plus the oxy and dilaudid from earlier had run it’s course. I pressed the button to get the nurse and of course another amazing PCA/CNA came in (she’d been on her game all night, literally my light wasn’t on 2-3 minutes before she came in to see if I needed anything) and she got the nurse for me whom honestly took her time coming to see what I needed (I’m sure she did it on purpose because she didn’t want to make two trips down to my room when my scheduled meds were due in a couple minutes). I explained my pain level to her and the beeping from the machine to which she replied she’d call pharmacy to get the medication up here, she left and returned to tell me it’d be here in 30 minutes. Prior to her leaving I reiterated my pain and she’s finally like oh let me get the dilaudid, I proceed to raise my hand and noticed that my IV had infiltrated (my hand super swollen because the fluid wasn’t going into the vein, it’s just been pooling in my hand) I’m a nurse so I immediately just raise it above heart level while she’s stares at it and goes “oh crap”. She turns the pump off and tells me she can’t administer the dilaudid (for obvious reasons) but she’s going to go and get the tools needed to start another IV (my hands the size of a Macy’s Day Balloon, but take your time). 1.5 hours later and the machine is still beeping and I’m in even more pain, I call her again, she takes forever to get here and then when I inquired about the med she’s like oh she’ll go down and get it from pharmacy cause it should’ve been here at this point. Ma’am…maybe calling for a follow-up after the 30-45 minutes had passed would’ve been great. Just as I’m frustrated about that, pharmacy comes up with the epidural medication and she does set that up. Then I’m asking her about the IV because mind you I told her I was in pain about 2 hours ago at this point and she’s done nothing for that except refill the epidural med that I’d been waiting on, and my hand is still super swollen from all the fluid (I’ve got pictures). She reaches in her pocket and pulls out the IV supplies to show me that she had it before saying “oh I’ve got other patients to see, but as you can see I’ve got the supplies here” then she leaves and I’m just laying there wondering what the actual (can I say f***k on Reddit?).
So that’s been awhile ago (25-30 minutes ago) and I’m still sitting here with the bad IV in my balloon sized fluid filled hand, in pain while she’s…I’m not even sure. Somewhere doing something. Upon infiltration occurring, every hospital I’ve been employed at has the same procedure of stop the infusion, remove the catheter, apply hot/cold compress to the area, and have them elevate the limb immediately.
So the charge nurse ended up coming in and set up another IV, no issues the rest of the night and I was able to fall asleep and relax.
Day 1