Gov t mule bad little doggie

PART THREE
Today my dad is still on life-support while the organ donation stuff is all settled. My mother then calls me [her and my father have been divorced for 30 years. She left him for the same reasons I stopped talking to my father) and said, “your brother and sister-in-law have decided on cremation and it’s going to cost money of course and they are asking how much you will contribute.”
I was so angry and upset about being pushed out of the decision making process, and now I am even angrier that they only want my involvement when it comes to monetary contributions .
So I replied to my mother,
Tell him I’m only a nurse and don’t make as much as (sister in law) and her doctor friends so they can all pay the bill. There is also a death benefit he can apply for. It’s amazing that now that he (my brother) wants money from me he’s willing to include me in everything. Imagine that. Well he can’t have it both ways. Too little too late. It’s insulting actually. He pushed me out of any decisions the last two days and now he is coming around because there are dollar signs attached to it.
They made it clear they didn’t want me involved in any way and that they would take it from there. They belittled me personally, and insulted my profession, looking down on me, meanwhile, they were believing in some sort of miraculous recovery instead of looking at the Medical facts. What kind of “Doctors” are they?
I could have argued with them, demanded to have things my way and to have a say in the final decisions, and I didn’t. My contribution, my gift to them, was walking away. Relinquishing all involvement. Because that’s what they wanted. So to then turn around and ask me for money? How dare they. Now all of a sudden my input is valued. They should’ve thought about that two days ago when they shut me out and told me my input was not wanted.
Obviously, the big lesson here is to have a will and a designated power of attorney because this is textbook as to what happens when families do not agree on care of a person who is in a position where they cannot decide for themselves .
My husband said I should contribute to my father’s cremation, and then just walk away.
I know that my response to my mother was petty and beneath me, but honestly, these last two days have been tough enough with the shocking news of my father’s death, and then having to deal with insults from my brother and sister-in-law. I feel like they wanted to control over everything so they can handle it. I was finally at peace when I walked away yesterday and I was finally feeling the stress leave my body and I was focused on remaining calm for our baby. And now, just like the famous saying in the movie, just when I thought I was done, they pull me back in. (I am paraphrasing but you know what I mean).
I’m looking for opinions on this. If this was my mother, who we are all very close to, and who is an amazing loving person this would be a different story, and I would be fighting every step of the way. But my mother also has a will, and power of attorney (me) and everything is set in stone , so this would never happen. Because it is my dad, and I never had a good relationship with him, this complicates things a lot. So honestly, I don’t feel bad about not contributing to the cost of the cremation. Most of this I guess it’s just me venting because I know my mother also thinks I should just contribute.
Both my mom and my aunt told me that my brother and sister-in-law are “grieving“ and “sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they are upset.“ Meanwhile, I see it a different way. I believe that when people’s backs are against the wall and they are in stressful situations they show you who they really are.
I will never forgive or forget their treatment of me.
I too am grieving in my own way, but I would never lash out and call people names and belittle them and insult them and shut them out this way. And then turn around and ask for money. I cannot justify their actions and I do not want anything to do with them after how poorly this was all handled.
What do you all think?

The Governor gets to declare legislative priorities for a special session, and last night he called for two priority items: a property tax relief package that focuses on rate compression, and increased criminalization for human smuggling.
The House passed both of them to engrossment immediately, after voting to suspend the rules that required the bills to be read over three separate calendar days.
But not until after making a point to observe on the record that the tax cut bill that the Senate was passing across the building at the same time didn’t follow the governor’s stated call (focusing on property exemptions instead), and thus would not be referred to House committees.
Then the House promptly adjourned sine die — meaning they aren’t coming back. The Senate now has little choice but to pass the House’s version of the bills.
To add insult to injury for the Lt. Governor (who is president of the Senate)… Gov. Abbott has allegedly stated this evening, “The Texas House is the only chamber that passed a property tax cut bill that is germane to the special special session that I called to provide Texans with property tax relief.”
…Meaning he’s giving the greenlight to the House’s sneaky-but-impressive strategy, and signaling that the Senate needs to get in line.
These are Grade-A legislative shenanigans. There aren’t too many stories out yet that really explain wtf just happened, but I will post some in comments as they pop up.
Texas politics is not for the faint of heart, y’all.

So to begin I guess I'll start with a little about me I grew up poor as can be I hate working but I hate being broke morey dream job was to go into the military and die in there weather it be a month in or years in but my gf when I was about to be 18 was completely against it so we're my parents I never thought anyone wouldnt want me to join but being the only son in my family I was told I wasn't allowed to join unless I got there permission until a certain age I believe not 100% sure but either way my mother dropped me outa high school in 10th grade witch fucked me joining either way unless I get my GED at this point but now that I have the chance to get it I don't think I want to join anymore I don't wanna fight for the current president. I'm not very political before I just wanted to join to legally kill people I know horrible but I've changed a lot over the years turned into someone I didmt think I'd be incould still definitely kill someone if it came to it but I'd rather protect my homeland if invasion happens that being said that was my whole plan for life my entire life up until a couple years ago I'm currently 23 I've mostly been a happy person most of my life but the last couple years have been ruff on me.. I had another gf that I thought was gonna be my everything so I was happy not to pursue my dreams I wanted a family.. god know I couldn't have afforded it still couldn't. But I started a job where I wasn't home often enough I guess so she left me for a cousin of mine who since I've quit talking to (witch was fucked I grew up with him we were boys I would have died for him) but thats was whatever I just put my head into my work then I meet this other girl who right off the bat I fell for I don't know if it was being alone after the previous relationship or just a rebound or just wanted something to fuck either way I fell for her hard... I'm still at the job where I'm barley home but I had pretty much just started out here so I was making 12 dollars an hour she had a car payment and apartment 2 kids and other shit to pay for witch whatever I get it life is full of bills I don't care take my entire check I never had money for food cigarettes or drinks for at work witch I work construction outside so it's normally pretty hot I went without so her and her kids had food in the fridge her car was paid for and maintenance token car uf cause I'm some what of a car guy so when I had time after work if go fix any problems she had with her car but my time my paycheck witch I worked 50 to 60 hours a week not including the time I took on the weekends to work for my job for some extra money or for her dad's business for extra money then she ended up pregnant weather it was mine or not idk but I was extremely excited finally a family that I've been wanting she tells me we wait to tell my parents I buy her a ring cause I thought she was the one and she was having my baby so why not I'm not bad at saving money the only hard part was hiding it from her but we end up telling my parents and her parents and 2 weeks later she gets an abortion... And 2 days after that she leaves me... So again I just put my head into my work... Then I got really depressed just going to work and going home every day for months... For whatever reason I started doing Percocets to make me feel better and give me the energy to work but now I'm addicted to them I don't want to be but they help me feel normal again they make me able to look in the mirror they make life not so hard to walk through day by day I want to get clean but I like them to much they extremely expensive I'd like to find another hobby to keep my attention so I can forget about my past a little without the need for drugs maybe a decent relationship would fix me and set me straight maybe I need to have a kid to actually mature...idk but I'd love to figure it out I have no idea what to do with my life I hate my job I hate my love life I hate pretty much anything anymore that isn't drugs or my nieces and nephews are the only things that make me happy anymore thanks for listening I needed that off my chest I have no one to talk to this deep only reason I'm doing it on here cause no one on here knows me I hate talking about my feelings to people I feel like a bother and like a Little bitch for not being able to deal with life alone like this thanks

I finally asked for professional help today. My eating disorder has gone through ebbs and flows for the last 20 years and it’s hitting a peak now I’m 33. I’ve tried to discuss my ED with former therapists, specifically since I started chewing and spitting out excessive amounts of food/purging over the last three years, and none of them could ever offer me much help (it was never their specialty).
A few weeks ago, I was able to stop all disordered behavior. I was so happy. I then almost immediately relapsed after two weeks when my routine was thrown, but at least I know I’m capable. There were a number of times the last year where I felt like recovery simply wasn’t possible for me.
Anyway, I’ve kept my current therapist in the dark on a lot of this, but I’ve opened up more lately and finally asked her today to find me help … like my last few therapists, this isn’t something she specializes in, and I’ve barely mentioned it in the time we’ve been working together. All that said, she’s already contacted some colleagues to find a specialist for me, and she wants me to join a support group.
It’s all a little overwhelming. I want so badly to get better, I can’t even say. There’s no one in my life I can really talk to about this, which is part of why I’m making my first ever Reddit post. I really only confided my struggles with ED in a former friend who (I thought) was in recovery — instead, she took every opportunity to comment on my body and other people’s bodies no matter how much I asked her not to. I know she specifically wanted to trigger me because she thought I was doing “better” than her, which was of course her own issue, but absolutely made things worse. I haven’t talked about it with anyone since then for what are probably obvious reasons, but I figured I’d rip the bandaid off because this can’t continue and I can’t do it alone.
I feel kind of stunted for having let it go on this long, but I am promising myself that tomorrow will be a good day. Got to start again somewhere. I’m just a little alone right now and unsure what to do before I have a larger support system.
Anyway, thanks for reading if you did. I really wanted to tell someone (or some people) who might understand.

Just feeling frustrated and need to vent.
My husband works very hard and does a ton around the house, including basically all of the cooking. But he gets antsy with too much time holding the baby because he has a hard time not being able to get all the household tasks done that he wants to get done (welcome to my world/mountains of laundry).
Side note: it’s also annoying because though he does a lot around the house, there are certain basic tasks he just seems oblivious to, because he doesn’t really care if they get done.ֶ So while he’s kind of a maniac about doing every dish as soon as it’s dirty, he leaves his mail and empty containers everywhere, and the mountain of laundry grows taller every week.
My in-laws live very close by and we’re so over-the-moon about the baby. They just couldn’t wait to babysit! In six months, they’ve babysat twice. I feel like a jerk expecting anything, but what’s truly bad is they keep saying they’re going to come over on specific days and then flaking out, or they’ll come by for fifteen minutes to coo over and play with the baby, and then they’ll peace out.
My husband and I fortunate enough to be able to hire a nanny, so my working hours are covered. I might be being irrational (feel free to tell me if so) because I’m kind of burnt out, but I’ve been a little annoyed with the nanny lately. Here’s the situation:
My daughter is generally a pretty chill and happy baby. A few weeks ago, the nanny said she was basically happy all the time. Now it seems like she’s teething, so she’s having some fussier spells.
When I get home, I feel like the nanny immediately needs to tell me every moment of the day that was bad. I get letting me know if the baby’s been fussier or if certain things were setting her off, but it feels more like complaining than giving me information. Today was she was like “I tried to take her to a coffee shop so I could get a muffin but I had to take my muffin to-go because she was crying so much.” And then about how she had to split up washing the bottles because my daughter wanted to be held so she couldn’t get everything washed at once.
It just felt like she needed me to know how annoying it was for her, and while I absolutely respect that the job is hard and don’t want to be unreasonable, it just feels like more piled onto the mental burdens of being a mother. Now I’m supposed to stress because the person I’m paying to care for my child has to eat a muffin at my house instead of a cafe (I don’t mean to be so snarky—I think I’m just burnt out).
I also felt like she needed me to apologize for my daughter. I’ve tried to be very careful with how I communicate around these things. I was always taught to apologize for my feelings and I don’t want my daughter to be trained in that same way. I don’t think she should have to be sorry that she’s teething and in pain and emotional, and while she probably won’t understand if I did apologize on her behalf in front of her, I don’t want to create a habit that I have to break when she does understand more of what’s going on. So I wonder if I come off as rude because I don’t say “I’m so sorry about that.” I might say “I’m sorry to hear that,” just because the nanny looks at me so expectantly, but I mean more that I’m sorry everyone was having a bad time, not that my daughter was upset (if that distinction makes sense to anyone).
I was hoping paying someone for childcare would make me feel less guilty or stressed by the time they were having with my kid, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. I dunno, maybe it’s rude or out-of-touch, but I wish she’d pretend to like my kid more, and not just when my kid is all smiles.
My baby is great, but she’s still a baby, so she’s still going to be challenging at times. I feel like everyone feels compelled to tell me all the ways they’re challenged by time with her (Muffin Gate, my husband not getting to do chores the way he likes to, my in-laws being invited to do things that conflict with promised babysitting time) which then makes me feel more isolated on this island where it’s just me and my baby.
And sometimes I just want a little time to myself without guilt. I know part of that is on me because my husband will take her. It’s just knowing that he doesn’t always like to feels like a mental burden that prevents me from always enjoying my time by myself. I’m slowly getting better, but I wish things felt better and I wish more people did what they said they were going to do.

i have always been on the shorter side ever since i was a little girl and i’m still young (15) but i was told last year by my doctor i’m done growing and stand at a whopping 5 foot. since i’m short it automatically makes it harder for me to lose weight and my genetics and metabolism are no help. i want to lose weight so bad and i always have but again it’s harder when your shorter and i have tried starving myself but in the end i always will loose a few pounds then gain it back due to binge. If anyone has any advice for me it would be appreciated because i need it. Its honestly probably just a me problem and somthing i need to get over and even writing this i’m starting to think about how pathetic it sounds to post somthing like this on the internet for help from people i don’t even know when i probably don’t even need it and just need to get over myself.

He wants me to go, and I have been going with him when he has an issue because it helps him that I am there, especially helping him explain things and remembering what is said. He has a physical exam coming up and I didn’t expect to be going since it’s just an exam, but he does need to ask about a couple of things.
He expected me to go and I didn’t anticipate it. I just feel so uncomfortable. We also have the same doctor. I just found it very uncomfortable being there last time for a follow up when he didnt have any issue. I have no problem with going and I can be uncomfortable, but I just had to ask someone neutral.
I have had my husband come with me to many appointments but it’s usually because I’m going to get a needle and I hate needles. I feel really bad because he expected me to go. Like I’m letting him down. I just feel like does it seem weird? Our doctor is very nice and caring but I don’t know. I felt a little weird last time. I just feel so bad because he thought I’d be going. The appointment is next week.

My(24m) girlfriend(31f) and I have been together for a bit over 10 months now, we met in person over a year ago and instantly became best friends. Then after a while we started dating, once she had moved back. We don't live too far apart, about 7 hours drive, but it's enough that we usually only see each other once a month.
The distance has always been an issue. Much less so for me than for her, though. It's been an issue for pretty much the whole relationship. We're crazy in love, but that doesn't make it much easier. She's always felt like she just needs someone in the same physical space as her, and we talked about moving to each other but neither of us are in a place to make the move.
We've talked a little bit about opening things up but it's never gone anywhere. It obviously hurts a bit for me. I don't feel like I'm lacking anything with the current arrangement, but I can't expect the same for her, it would be too hard for most people.
She went on vacation last week, it started off really rough for her and at one point she contemplated leaving early and we called and I stayed on the phone all night. The next couple nights went better, she found a group of fellow tourists and stayed out til 3-5am. We she got back she called me and said one of them was really into her and it was nice to have that attention from someone in the same physical space and it sounded like she was being flirty back. She felt really bad but I acted like it didn't really bother me. Then we talked more seriously about opening the relationship up and I went with it but honestly I don't know if I can handle it in practice. Even though we're long distance we're extremely close and because of some shared experiences I really feel bound to her. I just don't if it's possible for me to overlay an open relationship on to that format.
I just don't know what to do here and I'm interested to hear if anybody has any similar experiences and if it worked or if it hasn't. I'm interested to try but I'm a little afraid it'll just be disastrous to my mental health.

First Prev
Memory transcription subject: Professor Tevest, FTL Researcher
Date [standardized human time]: November 10, 2136
“They said 10:00 am. Do you think they’re still coming?” Virnix asked from the seat next to me.
I leaned my head against the car window. “It’s only 10:07, they’re just running a little late.”
“Maybe something happened to them. Or they forgot.”
“I messaged them. They know we’re here.”
“Then why didn’t they respond? The car drives itself, what could they be doing?”
I didn’t have an answer to that. I went back to silently wishing they would show up. We’d been waiting in car in the corner of the parking lot for over fifteen minutes. I’d honestly thought we’d be the ones late today given how long it took to get Dwlin to go to the bathroom and Kover not being able to find his data pad.
My pad buzzed. ”Sorry we’re late. We just parked and will be waiting for you out front” I read aloud.
Virnix looked to the back seat. “Everybody stick together. Stay within arm’s reach at all times. Got it?”
We got out of the car and began walking to the front. “Hold my paw Dwlin,” Virnix said, stress and worry seeping into her tone. Her eyes kept jumping around as if an arxur was going jump out from behind one of the parked cars. Was I that nervous my first day out? I grabbed her free paw and gave a reassuring squeeze.
Kover glanced over at us. “I’m not holding hands. Don’t ask.”
“Hey!” A voice yipped out between the cars. Virnix’s grip tightened at the noise, then tightened again further when a yotul jumped out between parked cars in front of us.
“Come on! They’re over here!” Sock yelled out, waving someone over. Following Socks, Kyle and another human woman I didn’t recognize appeared.
The woman smiled, stepped forward with a hand outstretched. “Hi, my name’s Catherine. Pleased to meet ya.” Virnix’s claws began to dig into my paw as she stared in terror. She looked to be on the verge of bolting.
“It’s good to meet you too,” I said grimacing over the pain in my paw. “My name’s Tevest.”
The human woman must had taken notice at my tone in my voice because she took a look at my wife and took a step back. “Sorry about that,” she said, her smile dropping. “You guys got a thing about teeth and stuff. I’m guessing the one on your left is Mrs. Tevest?”
Mrs. Tevest? “Yeah. This is my wife Virnix. Why don’t you introduce yourself Virnix.”
“H-hello. I’m Virnix,” my wife voiced with a robotic stutter.
“It’s great to meet you Virnix,” Catherine said turning her attention to Dwlin. “And what’s your name?”
“Dwlin.” The little gojid said proudly.
“Dwlin, that’s a nice name. Is that your uncle over there?”
“Uncle?” Dwlin said confused. Virnix’s paw went limp. I followed the woman’s gaze to where it landed on my son.
“The tall gojid over there.”
I burst out laughing. “That’s my son Kover!”
Human woman’s smile returned. “I guess I walked into that,” she said with a chuckle.
Virnix looked more confused than I’ve ever seen her in her life. “We’re like over twice his age, how can you not tell?” Virnix asked dumbfounded.
“Hey, I’ve never met a gojid before. The extent of my knowledge is that you guys have spikes and were gene-modded to be herbivores.”
Kyle looked up at Kover. “How old are you kid?”
“Fourteen,” he replied simply.
“Damn….”
“If you guys are done talking, can we go shopping now? I need more frozen burritos,” Socks interceded. “I’m Sokvous by the way.”
---
We walked through the sliding doors and into a brightly lit store with rows and rows of aisles. Soft music played overhead. If there was meat in the store I couldn’t see or smell it yet. I heard a crash to the side as Socks yanked carts from a receptacle.
Virnix huddled closer to me. “Tevest, I don’t like that look,” she whispered with as she pointed to the humans in the lines near the front. They had a look I was all too familiar with.
“Relax. That look doesn’t mean I’m hungry and want to eat you. It means What is a gojid doing here? Why did the gojid come to where I am. Should I talk to the gojid? Just look at what they’re doing.” Several humans in the lines were whispering to one another and others were taking pictures. “It’s not hunger, it’s interest.”
Socks handed me a cart. “You get used to it. Mostly. At least you have spikes. Last time I was here people kept trying to touch me.”
“Touch you?”
“Grab the tail. Sneak up behind you and stroke your fur. Real annoying stuff.”
Catherine led the way into the store. “So, what’s on your shopping list?” She inquired.
“Fruits and vegetables at the very least.” Virnix responded. “I liked whatever those orange tubers were called….”
“Sweet potatoes,” Kover said helpfully.
“That’s it, sweet potatoes. They weren’t half-bad after boiling.”
“How’d you season them?”
“Salt?” Virnix said confused.
Catherine looked like she just heard we ate dirt. “You just boiled them and used salt? That’s not dinner, that’s a food crime. Whatcha gotta do is to toss them in brown sugar, cinnamon, and pecans and roast those suckers. If your feeling real frisky you put a touch of ginger in them too. What else you looking for?”
“Whatever the red smushy ones were called. I think the package said tomatoes.”
“Another good choice, great in all kinds of things. Soups, casseroles, pasta, sandwiches…”
She kept going on like this. Virnix would mention something she wanted to get and the human would expound on it. Sweet potatoes, tomatoes, oranges, onions, among other fruits and vegetables were added, including a few that weren’t at the home when we arrive.
“You sure this one’s edible?”
“Wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. You just got to slice it open. Don’t let me forget, we need to get you some spices before you leave. What else do you need?”
“Juice! I want juice!” A few humans turned to the noise my daughter was making.
My wife pointed a claw. “Dwlin, use your indoor voice.”
“But I want juice!”
“Then don’t yell and ask nicely. If you want people to listen, then speak like a sapient.”
My daughter’s demeanor softened a touch. “Can we get some juice now please?”
“Better. Do you know where the juice is Catherine?”
“Down past the refrigerated section by the meat section. I’ll show you.” Dutifully we followed woman. The meat section. Whatever you do Tevest, don’t panic. If you panic then Virnix panics, then its trouble. Just don’t make a scene… We walked down, and down the aisle and it came into view.
Behind glass encased freezers there was flesh within, packed within plastic wraps. I couldn’t tell what kind of creatures these had once been. Did I even want to know? Virnix looked like she wanted to get away from here as soon as possible. Kover loomed over one of the freezers, peering in. Sokvous walked up to a freezer, grabbed several bags and handed one to me. “You guys need to try this, it’s delicious”
I dropped the bag. That’s it, I’ve lost it. The herbivore is buying meat. I’m stuck in a nightmare. The humans corrupting us wasn’t paranoia. Protector protect me, wait, no, oh god, wh-
“You okay Tevest?” Sokvous asked. My legs swayed and I began heading to the floor. Halfway down something grabbed me by the arm. “Geez man, get a grip.”
I sat on the tile and stared at the man who had a hold of me. “M-meat?”
Sokvous let go of my arm. “It’s not meat. Read the damn package.”
I slowly sat up. Not meat? I pointed my visual translator at the bag on the floor.

Plant-based meatballs. 30 count. Now with new and improved flavor!

“What?” I said confused.
Kyle offered me a hand. “It’s plant-based meat. It means that it’s plants that are processed to taste like meat.”
“Why?” I asked, still confused.
He grabbed my paw and me to my feet. “Because sometimes people like the taste of meat, but can’t or don’t want to eat the real stuff. Reasons vary from religious, to health, to environmental. The real stuff’s better, but with the war going on and the cattle exchange it’s hard to get.”
“So why are you buying it Socks?”
“Because it tastes good,” the marsupial replied roughly. I opened my mouth, but was cut off. “And before you ask no, I do not have predator disease. The Venlil, the Zurulians, and all those other Federation stooges can shove that fucking diagnosis up their ass. It’s a goddamn flavored plant. Besides, eating plants didn’t stop the Kolshians from assassinating diplomats. Where was the predator diagnosis on Nikonous you damn quacks!”
Where’d that come from? I picked the bag off the floor and looked at it. “I’m… not quite sure I’m comfortable with eating this.”
“I’d be willing to try it,” Kover said. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. Besides, even if they do what are they going do? Banish us to Earth?”
Virnix took the bag from my hands and shoved it back into the freezer. “I think we’re good. Let’s get your juice Dwlin.” She looked down only to find an empty space beside her. “Dwlin?”
My stomach dropped. Did we lose her? A moment later I spotted her at the far side of the section by the juice.
Which was on the topmost part of the shelves.
The shelves she was in the process of climbing.
I started dashing over. Nope nope nope nope nope nope.
This was going to be a long day.
First Prev

A few years ago lightning fried our TV and our Onkyo multichannel when it struck a tree close to our house. About a year later another Onkyo got fried in the same outlet. We replaced all the electronics. Today lightning hit very close. I was working on my laptop facing the street and it scared the heck out of me. Not a direct hit but probably across the street. It was loud but none of the lights flashed and none of my other electronics seemed to have issues. I just went to turn on my TV in the family room and it won’t turn on. It worked perfectly earlier today. It’s getting power because I can see the little power indicator light flash when I try to power it in, but it’s just a black screen now and no sound. I guess the lightning strike nearby fried this TV too.
My question, could it be that something is wrong with this particular outlet, or is this all just a bad coincidence. Absolutely nothing else in my house has ever fried except four electronics plugged into this same exact outlet. Nothing else even turned off or flashed. Sadly it’s the only outlet in the big wall where we can hang our TVs.

it's over man. this school thing is crushing me. i've been a good student with like only 2 Bs in high school until now but this year my family, friends, and teachers have broken me.i've been through almost 3 years of therapy against my will bc mom makes me, she calls me a sociopath all the time she degrades me about having no responsibility and being lazy then when i try and have a respectful conversation with her she lashed out and yells at me about how i'm always the problem.
it's no wonder i have a younger sibling it's so obvious that both parents think i'm a failure so why not try again and prioritize the second kid. my dad controls everything i do from what i wear to what i eat when i exercise who i do it with who i talk to and don't. when these two personalities between my parents clash their battles are insane, passive aggressive meets merciless rage and these lasts for days, sometimes weeks. this home is broken, two disfunctional parents that hate each other raising one kid and hating the other. for a little context they've always had a horrible marriage but in recent years it's taken a leap downward.
once when my mom lashed out at me abt failing a class i told her that school takes but all of my life and between all the classes sometimes one gets left in the dust and maybe it would be nice to come home from a hard day at school to at least a functional home so at the time i thought that wasn't asking too much. she ended up chewing me out for the rest of the evening and even came in my room to wake me up early to yell at me. after all this it's hard to feel anything anymore. i can't even remember the last time i had an authentic feeling. the stress of being a bad student, son, brother, friend, teammate, so on and so forth just gets to the point of hating myself to an unreal degree. the therapy started bc the family looked through my phone to find old texts of me venting to a trusted friend and saying i'm feeling like hurting myself and even to the point of ending it all. i'm not even sure if i'm truly past that. maybe i'll cave in to those thoughts, i'll let them win.
i used to cry but thag stopped a few years ago now i feel so numb and just wonder, mom? dad? why do you hate me? they frequently probe about my depression and i ask to try antidepressants but they say i'm already angry enough and the pills will change me, i say mom i'm asking for help to become better and to heal, but she sees me as the problem and gets mad. she says that bc i'm a man i need to toughen up and shit like that.
no friends no girls no anybody. i guess this battle is alone and at this point i've accepted i'll always be a failure, flunk out of school, i feel like i'll always be unlovable. maybe it's me and i'm always the issue i'm so confused so alone. i get called a red flag pretty often but how about this, i'm raising the white flag i give up i'll just live alone or something.

I’m writing this in the present year, but this isn’t my time. I’m from a dark and terrible future, but I’ve been given the chance to write this warning to you. I’m hoping it will help you save survive what’s coming. First a little about me, I’m from the south born and raised. Due to some complicated family drama I ended up the twenty-four year old guardian of my younger sister Teri who was fourteen in 2033, right before…well I’ll get to that soon enough. But either way, the two of us lived in a small house on the outskirts of a tiny town off the beaten path. I worked hard back then to take care of my sister while she focused on her school. It was an OK life if rough at times. We couldn’t have known what was coming no one could. They were coming.
​
I know it sounds unbelievable, but it happened or will happen I should say. Aliens invaded every corner of the planet and world war three began overnight. Of course, it didn’t go well for us humans. In the space of about a month, the narrative of, “We’ll send these aliens back from where they came from,” collapsed and humanity ended up in a losing running battle as the aliens’ robot armies overran city after city, country after country. One morning, a couple of weeks into it my sister and I were eating at the kitchen table. The schools had been closed even though the battles were going down on the other side of the state. We both saw the news on our screens, but I tried telling my little sister everything was going to be OK, although even back then I didn’t believe it. The planet was divided into free land and occupied zones the latter run by the aliens. No one knew what went on in the zones since no reports or news got out of them, but even then I knew it couldn’t be anything good. I had no idea how right I was, but I would find out.
​
Our family homestead ended up behind enemy lines. I decided we’d hunker down and see how things went. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen no one was going to save us at least not yet. Unfortunately, as our supplies dwindled and the fighting got closer I told my sister we needed to make a run for it. We didn’t make it. After being captured by some drone scouts while trekking through the wilderness we ended up in an empty field outside of a burning city in a mob of thousands of people. The aliens divided us humans up into groups and then loaded those groups into trucks. A drone pulled my sister away from me. I started a scene to keep her with me, but all I had to show for it was a mark on my cheek.
​
Next I ended up in the back of a windowless truck. Light peeked in through the canvas at the back allowing us ragged prisoners to look at each other, but no one dared speak a word. The brakes squealed, some people fell out of their seats from the force. The tension in the back thickened until the gray canvas parted revealing the front of an elongated beige alien head its beady red eyes examining us. He swept aside the canvas cover and several drones were around him. The alien spoke in a series of harsh snarls and growls, which I later found out amounted to their language. The wild swings and gestures with his long skeletal arms gave us the message to get out as soon as possible. This alien was freakishly tall at least nine feet about average for their species. He had beige colored skin and a freakishly long head with sunken red eyes and big teeth jutting out of its mouth. I hopped out and joined the group forming in the grass on the side of the road. Another guy hesitated at the sight of the drop. The alien grabbed his arm and yanked him off. The man landed with a thud and then floundered in the dirt as the thing screeched at him. The drones hovered around my group. One of them said to us in a deep voice, “The meat will finish the journey on foot.”
​
The skies above were gray as we trudged towards our destination off in the distance. Chain link fences hanging on wooden poles surrounding drab metal buildings. This was one of dozens of the aliens’ camps spread across the planet. We passed another truck in front of the one we got here in. Smoke bellowed out from under the hood as robots climbed all over it. Closer to the gate some commotion erupted. One guy made a break for it. There was a huge field to the right and at the end of it a forest. There was no way he was going to make it on foot. “Halt meat! Halt!” a drone said holding up a metal hand. Our group waited to see if the man would get his freedom. One of the aliens screeched and stepped away from the caravan. The man raced across the wide field. The alien raised its weapon. One of his friends colored a pale shade of white got behind him and watched from over his shoulder. The runner closed in on the tree line. The gun fired. He dropped in the mud a few feet from his destination. The alien lifted its gun in triumph. His pale friend put a hand on his shoulder and opened his mouth into what I guess was a smile. We got moving again. I passed through the gates into the yard as eyes from the watch towers bore down on me and my fellow prisoners. There was no tour we went straight into the building in front of us. The smell hit me first, blood and other fluids hung in the air as a permanent musk that burned my nose and eyes. The screams of humans and the thumping of heavy machinery in the distant parts of the building mixed together and assaulted my ears. I didn’t see anything that day. The drones herded us into an enclosed area completely walled off and lit with the same low red lighting as the rest of the place. In the middle of room were pens made of sharp wire reaching up towards the ceiling. Ten or so of us squeezed into one pen and the doors closed behind us and were tied off with heavy chains. For weeks, although it felt like months (it was hard to keep track) most of my time was spent there. My days consisted of waking up surrounded by ten random people, being escorted through the maze of hallways to the feeding area, and ending up back where we started. Sometimes the same pen sometimes a different one and usually with a new group of faces. The aliens feed as blue slop, which tasted bad and I would later learn had a very undesirable ingredient.
​
For a month this was my life until the big night.
​
I sat on the cold floor with a sea of legs around me (it was my turn to sit) and then the heavy doors at the front of the room creaked slowly. The aliens didn’t bother us at night one of our few comforts so thoughts of fear and worry erupted in my mind. Clamoring traveled my way from the pens closer to the door. I pushed my way to the wires so I could face the hallway. Figures in the dark moved around the cages. A bearded man in fatigues holding a rifle approached, “Keep it down, we’re here to bust you out,” he said in a harsh whisper. Another man came over with huge bolt cutters. The chain clasped around the door fell with a metallic thud. I went with the flow as we all spilled out into the area around the cages. Our rescuers were part of a resistance group and one of them ordered us to stay put. No one argued. Some of the resistance members went to work on the other locks while others remained in the growing crowd of escapees. Among these armed saviors I spotted a familiar face one I never thought I’d see again. “Kyle!” I said wading through the crowd toward the tall muscular man armed to the teeth. He wore the same discount vigilante outfit like when I first met him the longest month before. I should have mentioned this earlier, but about a month before the aliens arrived, this guy Lew Kyle saved me and my sister from being mugged in a parking lot. He said he was an intergalactic vigilante or something. I thought he was crazy. Back then, I didn’t think aliens existed. Boy was I wrong. In my defense Kyle passed as human if an extremely athletic one. He glared at me with squinted eyes, but then they widened with recognition, “Oh hey dork, good to see you. I thought you’d be dead by now.” "Wait, why would I be dead?” I said. “Well you know, between the global war, Mad Max savages, and being put on the alien’s menu, it was a distinct possibility.”
​
“There are Mad Max savages?” “Not anymore,” he said tapping his massive gun. “I thought you said you were leaving the planet?” “I was until the aliens made getting off a bit of a mess so I fell in with these guys. They’re not the best soldiers, but don’t worry stick close to me and I’ll get you out alive.” He shoved me aside and fired into the rafters. Bullets clanged as they ricocheted off metal. A second later the limp mechanical body of a drone hung over the railing of a catwalk above us. Several of my fellow prisoners got off the ground removing their hands from their ears, while other remained crouched. A resistance member glared at the man holding the machine gun. “Think they heard that?” Kyle said. Alarms blared and the lights came on. “Well,” Kyle said while pulling something out of his vest, “Since our covers’ blown might us well do this.” “What’s that?” I asked. “You’ll see, but first let’s get out of here.”
​
The group of soldiers led us out of the holding room and into the hall. I stuck close to the mighty Kyle confident he’d keep his word. Halfway on our trip the walls shook as a huge explosion roared in the distance in the direction of the front gate. “What was that?” I said resuming my pace. Kyle smiled, “Nothing, I just rammed a truck loaded with explosives through the front door.” The group turned down a hall I hadn’t visited before. There were two doors at the end. “Get ready to run,” Kyle said. Resistance members shoved the gates open. Prisoners flowed out the narrow exit and then scattered. I was in the middle of the crowd, but even in the dim moonlight one quick glance let me know we had come out the side exit meaning the vast field the unfortunate runner tried to cross the day I arrived lay between all of us and the fence along the woods. A floodlight light pierced the darkness and lit up a gaggle of ragged people running across the field of dead grass. I traced the searching beam to one of the guard towers. More spotlights lit up the field coming from all sides of us. The dozen or more spotlights lit up the hundreds of human sweeping the field. Some guy tumbled beside me and I saw he had a weird dart sticking out of his back. He contorted on the ground as everyone ran around him. No one had time to help the wounded. My trigger happy friend halted and I followed his lead. He fired in the direction of a building to our left. Aliens, drones, and spotlights congregated on its roof. His gunfire added to the deafening chaos and more resistance fighters joined the chorus of gunfire. Bullets whizzed by, hundreds of voices screamed, alarms wailed, and electro darts flew through the night sky in blue streaks.
​
“Keep going! I’m right behind you!” He shouted at the top of his lungs his gun going off the whole time. I raced to catch up with the front of the group. I was still a good way from the fence by the woods, but I saw soldiers milled around a hole in the fence through which my fellow captives streamed through. They worked under a spotlight until it vanished probably hit by a bullet. Either way, I had gotten a quick glance of the way to freedom. Though, it wouldn’t be my way. Bullets ripped through the crowd of people to my right. Dirt kicked up, people dropped and either flailed on the ground screaming or else lay still. Resistance soldiers rushed past me. A few seconds later the gunfire intensified and then died. I spared a glanced in their direction. One of the roaming lights passed over a pile of mangled bodies. “Kyle! If we don’t take out that technical we’re blown!” A man said to the vigilante or at least that’s what he told me. I was going the opposite direction when Kyle got his mission. I didn’t get much further though. I felt a sharp pain in my back like someone stabbed me with a giant needle. I tumbled as electricity flowed through my entire body. My muscles wouldn’t obey me so I was left on the ground as legs stomped past me. I couldn’t see well from the angle I landed in, but I could hear just fine. “Hounds! The Hounds!” Someone shouted. I rolled over with a struggle and something drew my attention. I craned my neck and saw the huge figure of Kyle a short distance away. Two soldiers had their arms wrapped around him. They were practically pulling him off the battlefield. “I’ll come back for you! I promise!”
​
He left my limited field of vision and soon the steady stream of running legs dwindled and then ended. One of the hounds followed them with all eight of its legs thundering along the ground. Its body was coated in silver fur and it was the size of a small elephant. A wave of drones and aliens followed the beast. They surged across the field of trampled grass to continue the pursuit into the woods. I wouldn’t see it any of it; my part in the night’s events was over. Except for one last thing…
One of the aliens halted next to me. He towered over me more than usual and we shared glances. He carried a weird baton in one hand with blue sparks flying off it. The thing jabbed me in the stomach as I lay there helpless. I cried out, but he responded by driving the weapon deeper into my flesh. I stayed there on the ground starring at the grinning face of the alien lit up by the blue light of the prod.
​
This is getting long. I’ll continue in another post, but for now watch the skies.

I make this post for two reasons: 1. I want to introduce my favorite Oc til now and 2. I want to ask for future build advice. If you are not interested in his story jump deeper to the post
So here is my character. Zariel (very original i know, somehow this just happened when i was very new in the game) is a Tiefling who once lived in a desert island in a small Tiefling community. On this Island Humans and Tieflings lived sepperated but the Tieflings were always the minority. The lived on the edge of the island under hardest conditions. The Humans hated the Tieflings cause of their appearance, but they have mostly avoided them becausd they were afraid of them. The Tieflings started to believe in the god of war and justice but only for the full justice of the Tieflings. Zariel Was an exception. He wanted justice for everyone. But the day had to come were war started. The Tieflings who were very little in numbers knew they would loose the war why they builded with their few resources boats to save the children in hope they would land on a safe island. Zariel was one of these children and they are actually stranded on a island under controll of the biggest force in the world: The Marine (it is a pirate campaign and the Marine rules kinda everything) The Tiefling children were taken in by the marines and raised as tools to protect the oceans from pirates. Zariel trained very hard to get stronger and stronger and he grew strong over the years. When He was a grown man he raised in ranks and made himself a name. He kept believing only in the god of justice and made an oath of vengeance to end every kind of racism and to fulfil his justice. One day when he was a offizier he was send to an island were many goblins lived. His job was to colonize the island but that wasn't what he wanted. When he arrived there was a pirate crew who wanted to protect the goblins and Zariel was very happy to see that. People who thought against racism. (That was the start of the campaign) Zariel decided to join this crew for a while to look how they act and what they do as pirates. He waspretty ambivalent at first because He didn't think it would be in the name of justice to be a pirate but he grew pretty strong onto the crew. So strong that he left his old Marine self behind him... or at least he tried. He knows that the Marine fought for justice to defeat the evil pirates and now he is one himself ,but he also knows that his people are not bad ones. So he tried to let his old self be but he coundn't. It manifested in an echo and there there are pirate Zariel and Marine Zariel
So yeah here is the Part about the build. We are level 9. I have 6 levels in Vengeance Paladin and 3 in Echo Knight. Str 17 Dex 8 Con 16 Int 8 Wis 13 Cha 14 Feats: Great Weapon Master and Polearm Master (one free feat) I think it is clear what i want- a very very big burst round. I've got thousands of attacks with a glaive and gwm and always advantage with vow of enmity and bless. Our DM gave us the option to change our builds a little. Do you have any ideas to optimize what i have rn? And how could i go on? I want a strenght of 18 with the next ASI but don't know if i should change stats and go with +2 oder a +1 feat and which.
And anothet build question. I plan on going to level 9 or maximal 12 with Paladin because i don't think i need the other features. Would you go 9 or 12 and which multiclass would you recommend after? (Hexblade is no option)

Nothing stays the same. I don't know if I'm more scared of never visiting places that I've called home before than I am of revisiting them only to find out that they don't exist anymore. To be fair, it's not just the place , I've also grown and changed , much like everyone else , living is a metamorphosis with no starting or ending points which sounds great but it also means I have no control on where to draw the line (the old house, my favorite tv shows, playmates and childhood friends, my first day of school, the trees I used for hiding spots and so on ). I certainly have changed enough not to experience the same place in the same way ever again and I don't know what I should feel about that . For years, I've been obsessing over the idea of time, death and how much of this inevitable doom is actually within my reach (spoiler alert; there is absolutely nothing I can do, time only marches forward and the more time I spend thinking about time the less time I actually have -not to be dramatic or anything- ) . Anyway, for someone so preoccupied with the suffocating concept of mortality and the existential dread that follows (all of which I will hopefully come to accept at some point in life ) you'd think that I'm actually living or at least trying to but I've only just realized that I've been living life on autopilot for a while. Eat, go to school, study or pretend that you do, feel bad about not studying enough, sleep and repeat. It's only at almost 24 years old do I realize that I should've achieved more (not academically speaking although there's definitely a room for improvement there too ). For the past five years, my life has been uneventful to say the most not only that, I don't even know if that was an actual sacrifice or if I'm objectively lame.Anyway,not to be depressing or anything, medical school has been rough but it's not the studying part that I had a problem with, it's the soul crushing expectations that I have for myself part , that's the part that's literally making me miserable. I don't know how to have a healthy amount of aspiration and drive for school without caring about grades or numbers, the utilitarian approach is pretty much inevitable , I don't know how to be okay with that , I don't know how to be good at doing that either. I don't know if I have what it takes and it terrifies me. I want to let go of childish cravings that'll only serve as an ego boost or more like a desperate attempt to repair what's left of my self esteem, after all if I get to be a doctor that means I'm not a lost cause, a failure with no direction in life, someone who doesn't know what they're doing, or am I? Turns out doctors can be doctors without being perfect and now I feel like I've been scammed because no matter how hard I try to find an objectively correct method or test that tells me I should feel good about myself if I managed to pull it off I just find more ways in which I am lacking or straight up incompetent so maybe the shadow work stuff is real. This is probably disappointing to hear, I am pretty shallow and I do realize that it's an issue but to be fair the old me also used to enjoy studying and learning new things, the old me used to care a little. Now what drives me is not the fact that I care (well to be fair I do but I also don't) if anything, I'm very empty , my passion is almost inexistent at this point and that's in no way the person I would like to become. I don't know if I can pick up the pieces and get better, for now I'm just mirroring whoever I think has the most genuine, unwavering smile all while hoping that mine somehow also translates to words like "I'm here for you, you're not alone, you can depend on me, I know what I'm doing". I don't know how much time it'll take me to actually become that person, I don't know if I can, I also don't know if all of this rambling is worthy of your time but I thank you for it.

Transmission
by Brian Martinez
Let me start my story by telling you something about me, the most important thing, in fact: I find things, and I fix them. That’s who I am. If you don’t know that, you don’t know me.
I’m a second-generation auto mechanic, born-and-bred. I’ve been repairing cars since before Ford Pintos were blowing up, when cars were made of steel and Route 66 wasn’t just something for the cartoons. These days I’m fortunate enough to own a shop downtown between two of those chain coffee places. It’s small, sure, but it has a reputation for saving cars so far-gone no one else will even touch ‘em. So if you live in the area, and you’ve ever been stuck with the sourest of lemons, or maybe your kid drove your minivan into the pool, we just might have crossed paths, you and I.
That reputation is what led to me getting a phone call from a guy I’d never met, saying he had something that might interest me. His name was Burt and he’d apparently just purchased a piece of property that sat unowned for the better part of twenty years. I knew of the area he was talking about. It’s out in the hills, where there isn’t much to look at. Most of the land there went to weed years ago; acres and acres of old woods and burnt-down barns just waiting for nobody in particular to see the value in them. And, well, it seems Burt was that nobody in particular.
I honestly didn’t know what Burt’s purchase had to do with me, and told him just that, figuring he must have had the wrong number. But the next words out of his mouth told me he knew exactly who he was talking to.
Apparently when old Burt started walking around his new property, digging around in the dirt, so to speak, he made an interesting discovery. So interesting, in fact, that it got me to grab my keys, hop in my truck, and drive up into the hills without so much as a pause to wash my hands.
Some things, you see, don’t wait for a man to look presentable.
As I drove up into the hills to meet Burt, I started to think about my father and the drives he used to take me on. He liked to get a feel for whichever car he was working on, and those drives, they always ended with a detour into the hills. ‘Nothing tests a vehicle like elevation,’ he used to say, and I have to admit, I still agree with that statement. All those long inclines, sharp turns and fast descents- not to mention the occasional slam on the brakes- really put a car through its paces.
Dad knew a thing or two about cars, even if he knew nothing about how to raise a family.
Other than maybe a slight fear of commitment, the main thing I got from my father was a passion for restoring old cars in my spare time. It’s a hobby of mine, and I do it in the garage at my house. I’m especially a sucker for rare cars, and the rarer the better. That little hobby of mine, more so than my day business, was why I ended up driving out to the middle of nowhere with dirty hands and a head full of ideas.
The road up was just as long and winding as I remembered. I almost missed the entrance for the property, a hidden driveway marked with little more than a broken mailbox and a rotting signpost. The private road got smaller and smaller by the minute until I swore the trees were going to swallow me whole and spit the bones back out.
When I finally reached what could pass for a clearing, a guy with a face like a junkyard dog was waiting for me next to the newest, cleanest Ford pick-up I’d seen outside of a dealership. He introduced himself to me as Eddie, an associate of old Burt. I told him I’d been expecting to meet Burt himself, but Eddie explained that Burt didn’t like to meet new people, and rarely came out in the cold weather. It was a bit raw, I had to admit, so I dropped the whole thing and let Eddie get down to the business at hand.
We left our cars behind and Eddie led me into the woods, where the walking was slow-going on account of the overgrowth of vines and dead branches. I’m not one to spook easily, but the more we walked the creepier those woods got, until I was fairly sure Eddie was going to use that French Mastiff face of his to tear my throat out. But just when I was thinking about turning back and saying screw it to the whole thing, I caught sight of what we’d come for.
The very first car I saw was a white, 1974 Pontiac Trans-Am. It was missing its door and tires, and it was buried under a layer of dead vines, but the body shape was unmistakable. Under the rust I could even see what was left of the telltale Firebird emblazoned across its hood in blue.
I couldn’t believe a car like that was just sitting out in the middle of the woods, waiting for anyone to come along and find it. As I got closer, though, I saw just how bad the condition of the car was. The insides were rotted out from rain and mold, and the floor was so eaten up by rust it was ready to fall out.
Before my brain could process the loss of such a beautiful machine, I caught sight of another car. This one was a Datsun 210 with a tree growing right through the hole where its trunk used to be. Wet leaves and newspaper filled the back seat, and the dashboard was an abandoned nest that crawled with leggy insects.
Old Burt hadn’t been pulling my leg: those woods were a graveyard for abandoned cars. From what I could tell, about three acres of woods were absolutely littered with the corpses of old autos. Some were in pieces, most were covered in dead leaves and rust and all the other things that happen when anything is left outside for years and years, but they were there. The sight of so many classic cars in one place, virtually unknown to anyone, both excited and saddened me.
For close to an hour I walked around random piles of tires and glass to stare at rusted-out Range Rovers and Jeeps with their headlights hanging out like popped eyeballs. Finally, like I’d woken up from a spell, I asked Eddie what Burt expected from me. And that’s when he told me the strangest, most interesting offer he could have told me in that moment.
He said if I could make every, single one of those cars disappear in three day’s time, at no cost to old Burt, I could keep them.
The words nearly knocked me off my feet. I’d have to call in every favor to every salvage yard and tow truck operator I knew, but it was possible. Still, nearly all of the cars I’d seen were beyond repair, even for a guy like me. At most I saw some parts that could be salvaged. Maybe a few of the newer, less damaged ones could be saved. I knew a few guys in my circle who might be interested, and I figured if I played my cards right I could make a few bucks out of the deal to boot- or at least land a good trade or two. Still, there weren’t any cars that I was interested in for myself.
Until, at the edge of the property, tucked away in a spot I’d nearly overlooked, I saw it. It was as if I’d been drawn there. Like I was meant to find it.
The car was familiar-looking, yet like nothing I’d ever seen. Cross a Chevelle Malibu Classic SE with the modern retro feel of the ‘97 Plymouth Prowler, add the large rear spoiler and flared wheel arches of a ‘99 Nissan Skyline GT-R, and you still won’t come close. It looked like something one of the big three manufacturers had made and yet I’d never seen or heard of its like ever before. It had no logos, no hood ornament, no identification of any kind. I practically ran around to the back of it to look for a name, a logo, something to identify it, tripping over hidden rocks and broken glass to do it.
But there was nothing. Nothing to betray the make and mark of the strange car in front of me. I even asked Eddie if he knew what it was. He only shrugged, clearly wanting to wrap up our little outdoor meeting. I half-heartedly agreed. It was later than I’d realized. Between the dwindling sun and the discovery I’d made, I’d started to get a chill I couldn’t shake. I had a bad tooth I’d been neglecting, and even that was starting to hurt from the cold.
So I agreed to Burt’s deal. I shook Eddie’s hand on it and got out of there, giving one last glance at the strange car in the woods on the way out.
The next day, after making more phone calls than a politician on election night, a swarm of flatbeds, wheel-lifts and salvage trucks descended on those woods. For two days they scooped out every piece of metal and glass in the place, while I oversaw the operation like a choir conductor from hell. I directed trucks this way and cutting crews that way. They snipped and cut and tore out every dead tree standing in the way so the truck crews could do the rest. I even got in there myself with the old chainsaw when it was needed.
It was an exhausting two days, but I managed to keep my word to Burt and clear every abandoned car off his property with about an hour to spare. Some of the cars went to the junkyard, others to various garages I’d made arrangements with.
I was dead on my feet by the time I got home. I was ready for a shower and a bed, in what order I wasn’t sure. And yet a crackle of energy went through me when I saw what had been dropped off in my garage.
My mystery car. Without the shadows of the woods hiding it, I could see it had been painted silver before the rust took over. It had been a fast sucker once, like a bullet to a werewolf’s chest. That had been a long time ago, and yet I sensed there was still some life in the old girl. I wanted so badly to start digging around under the hood, to see what I could find out, but my legs were ready to collapse and my eyes could barely focus. Intending to wake up early and hit the garage, I stumbled off to bed.
You know that feeling you get when you realize someone’s been talking to you for the past minute, thinking you’ve been listening, and you only just figured it out?
That’s the feeling I woke up to.
I sat straight up like a vampire rising from his coffin. My bedroom was still dark, which meant it was the middle of the night. In my half-sleep I tried to make out the clock on my nightstand but couldn’t read the numbers, so I fumbled for my glasses and shoved them on. It was just past two in the morning: way too early, even for me. No way was I getting up, strange feeling or no.
I was about to take my glasses off and lay back down when I heard the reason I’d woken up.
Whispering.
A man was in my room, whispering in the dark. I lunged across my bed and turned on the lamp, nearly knocking it over. I didn’t have a weapon, but if I could see the intruder I could do something about it. I spun back, back to the whispering, to see who it was, to shout at them or jump on them, whatever I had to do to save my life from the psycho in my bedroom.
But the room was empty. Just me and a pounding heart.
I was so confused, I jumped out of bed and tore around the room, making sure no one was hiding, but I didn’t find anyone. I was alone.
Then I heard it again, and I knew: the whispers were coming from down the hall.
With bare feet I followed it, trying to make out what it was saying, but it was too low to understand. I grabbed a knife as I passed through the kitchen and held it in front of me with sweat beading on my face despite how cold I kept the house.
I followed the whispering to the garage. The overhead light flickered on, lighting up the strange car in my garage. In my half-sleep, half-terror I’d nearly forgotten about it. But there it was, like a bear hibernating in its cave, waiting for the end of winter. It felt alive somehow. Not dead, just asleep and dreaming.
And it was whispering.
I knew how crazy that sounded, how crazy that was, but I swallowed hard and approached the car, knife first. The blade shook in front of me. The whispering got louder the closer I got, and yet I still couldn’t understand the words it was saying. Was someone hiding inside the car? Had I inherited a homeless man when I’d had it towed to my house? If so I had to get him out of there. Get him help, sure, make sure he had a place to sleep, but he couldn’t stay in my garage, whispering through the night. No way.
With my free hand I yanked on the driver’s side door. It didn’t open. Rusted shut. I slowly walked around to the passenger side and yanked again. It opened.
The whispering was louder now, louder but not clearer, like an old television tuned between channels, like a frequency not being picked up, like a…
Like a radio.
The whispers were coming from the radio. I laughed under my breath, realizing how ridiculous I’d been. But then I remembered there was no way the radio could be working. The car wasn’t turned on. If it even had a battery under the hood, it was probably little more than a square pile of rust and battery acid.
I clutched the kitchen knife tight, and with the other hand I slowly reached out to turn the volume knob. I needed to know if the whispers were coming from the radio, and if they were, I needed to know what they were saying. My temple throbbed as the whispers grew louder and louder, louder and louder, louder and-
The moment my finger touched the knob, the whispers stopped.
I felt like I was going crazy. I looked around the inside of the car, noting the strong smell of mildew and animal with a tinge of rotten leather. Other than my own breath echoing back at me, it was silent.
No whispers. No nothing.
I went back to bed, but I barely slept.
The next day was the day I usually took off from the shop, which was a relief since I woke up almost as tired as when I’d gone to bed. As I ate my breakfast, the night before still sat fresh in my mind. But the more I went over it, the more I thought it had been a bad dream, brought on by exhaustion and an imagination run wild. I had to admit the mystery car sitting in my garage had gotten my mind racing faster than a Formula 1.
I’m the kind of guy who likes a simple explanation, something I can touch and feel and, yes, fix, so I started to think that I could have picked up some kind of rogue radio transmission from a trucker, or even a passing plane. The police scanner I owned in my younger days had certainly picked up its share of random broadcasts, and when it comes to working on junkers I’ve learned to expect the unexpected.
After I’d eaten my breakfast and downed my coffee I got right to work on the car. I wanted to clear the air of whatever had happened, and I was dying to see what that baby had going on under the hood. The mystery of who the hell had made the thing was still heavy on me.
But the enigma only deepened the more I looked. Under all that rust and dirt and oil I couldn’t find one damn mark that told me who’d made the car. I almost wanted to say it was a custom build, but the work was too precise, the system too well-planned out to be an after-market job.
I worked on it all day, so wrapped up in it I forgot to eat lunch. I ate dinner like a raccoon digging through a dumpster. Then I worked on it some more.
I was just crawling into bed when I heard it again.
The whispering.
This time I ignored it, hoping it would go away on its own. But it didn’t stop. Not until I got up, walked across my house, went into the garage, and touched the radio. Then, it stopped.
I decided right then and there not to go to the shop the next day. There was just too much work to be done.
I’d been working on the car for four days straight before I got it started up. Four days of stripping and cleaning and rebuilding. Four nights of whispering. I was even starting to hear it during the day, but low, barely audible, like a television playing somewhere in the house.
After I got the engine started, the first thing I did was pull my code reader down from my tool wall and hook it up to the dashboard input. I’d been pleasantly surprised to find an input on the car, even though I was fairly certain it had been built after '96. To my shock the screen filled up with a bunch of random trouble codes I’d never seen before, then went blank. I tried to get it powered up again but apparently the connection had completely overloaded the device.
I’d had the reader for years and it had never given me a problem. I put it down and got back to the car, deciding to stick to the old-fashioned way and get a feel for what was wrong with it. Just like dad used to do.
With my foot on the gas I revved the engine good. It sounded better than I’d expected, like a beast waking up from deep sleep. But there was also something rattling around under the hood, something loose knocking around inside the carburetor or possibly even the manifold.
I tried a few options, opening up this and that, until I narrowed it down to something completely unexpected: the transmission.
With considerable force I managed to open up the transmission, and sure enough I found something inside. Something dark and red. I pulled it out and studied it under the light. It looked like a small rock covered in old transmission fluid. How it got in there I didn’t have a clue. But I decided to clean it off and get a better look at it, in case it pointed to a bigger problem. As I walked it to the slop sink, I noticed the whispering, usually a dull static during the day, had started to grow louder. I could almost make out individual words now. But I ignored it and ran the small rock under the faucet, watching the dark red fluid swirl down the drain.
That was when I discovered something I wasn’t prepared for. The thing in my hand wasn’t a rock- it was a tooth.
A human tooth.
The whispers had grown so loud I could barely hear myself think, barely feel the disgust rising in the pit of my stomach. With the whispers practically shouting in my ear I dropped the tooth and it bounced and clattered inside the sink, coming to a rest near the edge of the drain.
The whispers grew quiet again. A dull roar tickling at the back of my skull. I stared at it, the tooth in the sink, the impossible tooth from the impossible car. I had the urge to throw it out. To get it out of my house and never see it again. But I didn’t do that. I couldn’t tell you why not.
Maybe because that meant touching it again.
Maybe something else.
Feeling like I should give the car a rest, I worked on getting my code reader working again, otherwise I’d have to run to the store and buy a new one. I changed out the batteries and gave it a good, solid whack. A few seconds later I was happy to see the screen turn on. I thought I’d have to do a factory reset to use it again but I was surprised to find it worked perfectly fine. Not only that, the trouble codes it had read off the car were still stored in its memory.
There were pages and pages of codes like I’d never seen in my life, more than I think are even in the tool’s programming. In fact I couldn’t find a single one of them anywhere in the manual. I figured they were probably just random numbers, and yet there was something strange about them, like they had a pattern to them. I dusted off my old computer and typed in the problem codes, figuring if I could get a better look at them I might be able to figure out their meaning. If not, I could at least print them out and show them to somebody who could.
After twenty minutes I’d barely made a dent in typing up all the codes. I gave up on the idea that I could copy them all. I pushed away from my computer and stood up, rubbing my eyes from the strain. Between the glare of the old screen and the noise in my ears, my head was killing me. It all felt so pointless. So inconsequential.
Just before I shut the computer down, I happened to glance one last time at the screen. And when I did, I noticed something that made my skin go cold.
The codes. The pattern. The numbers and letters and spaces between them. They were starting to form a face. A human face, with two eyes and a screaming-
I shut the computer down as fast as I could, then unplugged it to be safe. Then I marched to the garage and disconnected the radio, practically ripping it out of the car.
The whispers stopped.
The house was quiet.
But not for long.
For three days I told myself to get rid of that car, tow it out of my garage and dump it somewhere no one could find it. Maybe even drench it in gasoline and light a match. For three days I ignored the whispers and the doorbell and the phone calls from my shop asking when I was coming back. For three days I buried my head under the hood and worked and worked and worked.
On the fourth day, when the whispers from the radio had grown louder than my own thoughts, louder but still unclear, without words I could understand, I lost it. I threw my wrench at the tool wall, knocking down chisels and socket wrenches and a dozen other tools clattering to the ground. I pounded on my ears, cursing them, willing them to go deaf and stop hearing the whispers.
But they didn’t stop hearing. And the whispers didn’t stop. So I decided. I decided that if I couldn’t stop hearing them, I at least needed to know what they were saying.
I went back to the slop sink. The tooth was still there, perched near the edge of the drain. I’d prayed for it to slip down and wash away on its own but there it was, round and sharp and real as ever. So I picked it up, and the whispers grew louder. Clearer. But still not clear enough to hear. Not enough to make out what the radio was saying. To understand what it wanted from me. It was like a broken antenna, only tuning in half the frequency.
The garage was a mess. I was a mess. Rancid grease stains everywhere. A hole in my tool wall where the wrench had struck it, the ground littered with hammers and screwdrivers and …
Pliers.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed the pliers from the ground, shoved it onto my mouth, got a good hold of my bad tooth, and ripped it out. It was easier than I expected, but it still hurt, and it bled a lot. But I didn’t hesitate. I pushed the tooth I’d found in the transmission into its place.
The moment I did, it was as if everything came into focus. As if the radio was inside my skull. No, as if my skull was the radio, and I was the antenna. I could hear the transmission clear as day now, a man’s voice inside my head.
Whispering to me.
Telling me where to find the rest of him.
I told you all of this, not because I expect you to believe me, but because I’m about to walk out my door and do something I might not come back from. And if that’s the case, if I don’t return today or any other day from this thing I need to do, I want people to know why.
Because I find things. I find things and fix them. If you don’t know that, you don’t know me.

I am desperate for help. I’m going to try and make this short. I (29F) have emotionally checked out of my marriage with my husband (40M) and I am REALLY trying not to…. I feel like if I actually went into detail, you would stop reading before it’s over, and I wouldn’t get advice. So this is the “jist” of it. My husband emotionally abandoned me. Just totally…..turned on auto pilot. For the last four years. I told him. I don’t feel loved by you. I feel taken advantage of by you. I feel extremely controlled by you, I feel like you abuse me…not physically….but in every other form of abuse. I want to get a job, he won’t allow it. I tried to get one anyways. He sabotaged it. I get it, ok? We’ve been through A LOT in the last 4 years. (Just for reference we’ve been together 8 years) We have struggled with infertility, my depression, my anorexia, our daughter got cancer. We finally got our baby but he came the day she was diagnosed. Then there was Covid. Then we had to sell our house and live with family for 18 months. And so much more random little stuff in between. Especially with the cancer. That was extremely…..stressful. But still. I’ve been patient. I’ve understood and accepted every excuse for his crappy treatment towards me. I also. Have been threatening leaving for probably a year. Maybe more. I finally effing had it. His consistency of pushing me away and being a total fricken jerk face (to say the least) has pushed me away. I do not even feel like I am in love anymore. I actually don’t even know if I love him at all. More than the father of my children. I actually feel like he’s made me hate myself. He’s made me hate my life. I’m always sad. I’m always angry. I’m always the “bad guy.” I want to LEAVE!!!!!!!! But now he wants to try. And he has been…..kind of…..And he’s been begging me for one last chance. Part of me feels like I can’t even get there. I dread the weekend and evenings because he is home. Part of me feels just checked out. Emotionally absent. Part of me feels like….should I try to fall in love with him again? They say marriage is hard. They say it takes work….is this what they were talking about? Should I give it one more shot? For the kids? For myself? So I never lay awake at night wondering if we could’ve made it work? What’s another year….I guess….but then again I don’t want to!!! I want to LIVE AND NOT JUST SURVIVE!!

This might be a stupid question but I am new to powershell (I’ve used other languages) and I am building an app to work with AD/SCCM.
I’ve made a UI using some YouTube videos that taught me about XAML and I am very happy with the way my code interacts with AD/SCCM and the UI.
The only problem is pulling collection info from SCCM is very slow, so I wanted to have a local storage location that I can keep this information in like a cache. So I only have to update occasionally.
I’ve been using CSV files to sort, store, and access data but this seems… clunky and bad. I also want to try to do this the right way so I can learn to make a robust solution instead of one that “works”
I’ve looked up storage solutions and my first thought was SQL but the things I’ve found don’t seem very intuitive.
I’m only asking because everything I found seems WAY too advanced for what I need and since I am new to this I’m hoping someone can point me in the right direction.
I’m not scared to get in the weeds with a solution/figure it out by researching.I’m just hesitant because I have very little knowledge of powershell and I don’t know what best practice is so I can’t decide on a solution.
I’m here to learn so any help is appreciated!

I struggle with being very insecure and for a while have sheltered myself from many opportunities to date. I don’t really have a desire to date so I don’t put myself out there but I’d like to date people. However my insecurity is really getting in the way. The past few times I have been approached I just tell them “sorry I’m in a relationship” even if I find them nice and attractive. Or if I move it one step ahead and we text a little the moment they ask to take me out I just stop responding. I know that’s really bad and I don’t exactly lead them on, and I don’t do it in purpose, it’s like something inside of me shuts down. It’s kind of confirmation that I’m not as bad as I think when I do get approached so I don’t know why I feel this way, but I guess I feel like I don’t deserve it. Has anyone else felt like this?

3F , 36lbs, 38inches tall. Healthy. No medical history. History of constipation issues but that’s it. I’m mom to toddler. (Not yet potty trained, still in diapers) She has been dealing with constipation problems since she was a baby so I’m not new to this. But the last few weeks has been really bad and none of my usual tricks have worked. I’m desperate. I’ve had phone calls with advice nurse and a telehealth appt with an on-call doc over the weekend (neither much help)
I honestly don’t remember the last time she has pooped. It’s been over a week, maybe 2+? Usually when she gets really backed up, I will give her MiraLAX for a day and that will flush her out and help her poop. About five days ago when it started causing her pain, I started the miralax but it hasn’t helped. When she feels the urge to poop, she holds it in because she’s afraid it’s going to hurt. So it’s the vicious cycle of her having tummy pain because the poop is trying to come out, but her holding it in because she’s afraid of hurting. She doesn’t want to eat much because her tummy hurts. She is a picky eater anyways on a normal day, so getting her to eat any kind of fruit or vegetables that would help her poop easily. It’s out of the question. I have tried giving her liquid stool softeners, but she doesn’t like the taste so she won’t drink it. She is drinking water regularly and I’ve tried apple juice (won’t drink prune juice).
The last two nights she has been crying in pain because her stomach hurts and she’s afraid to poop. Then she calms down and goes to bed and sleeps fine and she’s fine during the day (until every now and again, when that urge to poop, comes, she cries and runs and lays on the couch)
My husband and I have been talking about taking her to the ER because it’s been so long since she pooped and I’m starting to get worried about her getting a blockage or something. I also thought about maybe doing a liquid glycerin suppository but I’m afraid that I’m going to make things worse or cause her pain (and definitely trauma)
Sorry, I am a little bit all over the place. I just am feeling kind of desperate. I did email her doctor again this morning. But I haven’t heard back. The doctor that I talked to you over the weekend suggested that I up the dose of the MiraLAX (which I have ) and do the liquid stool softener (which she won’t drink). I know and have read that MiraLAX all the time is not good, especially for a little kids so I don’t wanna have to do that all the time but like I said, I’ve given it to her for at least six days in a row now and nothing. What should I do next??? Should I give her the glycerin suppository? Should I take her to the ER? Should I wait another day or two?? I just want my baby to feel better. Thank you

I (44M) was with my ex (40F) for 1.5 years. It was a special relationship for both of us with lots of love, honesty, vulnerability, and passion. We loved spending time together and had a lot of shared interests. And we had been blending our families together (my two tween girls and her younger daughter).
She unexpectedly broke up with me in February without giving me a reason. I think she was going through some difficult times in her life (mental and physical health, along with the start of menopause). I had some temporary life stressors that were stressing her out too. I think I was a little preoccupied those last few weeks.
In any event, it’s been over three months since I last saw her and two full months of no contact. I did some really bad begging and pleading before that. Really bad.
People tell me to move on and I really am. This breakup has been the most difficult time of my life but out of it I’ve started to make so many changes. But at the same time, I fully expect to hear back from her someday. Even if that’s 5 years down the road. No, I won’t wait for her but I need to believe this because I can’t believe there isn’t at least a better ending between us. That thought is giving me some peace.
Is this illogical?

I was an overly anxious kid and was often scared of things that weren’t there. My parents saw it as attention seeking so they largely downplayed or ignored my fears- as was the general parenting consensus at the time- they aren’t monsters.
One night as a 3rd grader, I was falling asleep and suddenly everything felt wrong and sinister. My head was twice as big as normal and my hands were flesh colored Mickey Mouse gloves. I sat up but couldn’t get out of bed because the ground was moving like a walking escalator at an airport- or those hallway scenes you see in film where they move in or out- and everything in my room took a giant step back again. The stuffed animals on my shelf were simultaneously moving away from me but grew in size. I felt ripped in half but couldn’t articulate it. I screamed for my parents who humored me for a minute or two- “At least they moved away from you and not towards you, so there is nothing to be afraid of.” They told me to go to sleep and left.
The experience probably lasted 20 ish minutes. It stopped gradually and I was eventually able to fall asleep.
The next day was totally normal, but right before I fell asleep the same thing happened again- except not only were my hands and head too big, but my body was shrinking and my stuffed animals not only were getting further away from me, but they were replaced by doppelgängers. My parents were convinced it was made up for attention so they didn’t come to me screaming after the first night. This happened to me a total of 4 times over about a week, and hasn’t happened since. It terrified me.
I started sleeping with the lights on, I wasn’t getting as much sleep because I was scared to close my eyes, and eventually it got bad enough that I started having such bad anxiety about going to bed that I refused to brush my teeth or do any part of my bedtime routine because my fear would skyrocket.
That part about night time routines led to therapy and I had to practice brushing my teeth with my parent in the room and I’d get a quarter, the next night 2 feet further, etc. When I regressed I had to pay the quarters back. This process was really long.
The first time I went to a sleepover at my best friend’s house after this week, her mom called my mom that very night and asked if it was possible that I was being sexually abused (in the bathroom) because she observed me experiencing panic, and it was different than my previous behavior. Thinking back, I remember she asked me if she could brush my hair before bed- which she didn’t normally do- I think she was trying to open up conversation and I love her for that. But hair brushing was also part of night time routines so I said no.
I was afraid of the dark probably until around 20 to be honest even though it’s embarrassing, but I moved on and stopped being afraid. I am 36 now and know I have anxiety and depression, so looking back I have always assumed it was an extreme disassociation episode.
Well all this to say, I was mindlessly scrolling the other day and came across a neurological condition called Alice in Wonderland Syndrome- I can’t link here but will in the comments.
“Alice in Wonderland syndrome is a brain-related condition that disrupts how you perceive your own body, the world around you or both. Named for a famous children’s storybook, this rare condition makes things look or feel larger or smaller than they actually are. It can happen for several reasons, many temporary or treatable.”
Reading this made me weep. I’m not exactly sure why I experienced it, it could be related to my history of TBI and migraines. I don’t really care why because it feels like I finally found the missing puzzle piece of what created this fear in me.
Minutes after I read it, I texted my mom and asked if she remembered the incident and she remembers it perfectly. I sent her this article linked above and it seems like it confused her more than enlightened her. That was a little disappointing, but I understand.
But for me, this is huge. I feel such relief.

In the last 2 weeks, I’ve suddenly developed a strong aversion to all meat. Whenever I cook or try to eat it, it smells and tastes like it’s gone bad. Very reminiscent of the wet dog smell.
This happened to me in my early 20’s (about 10 years ago), and I went vegetarian over night. This lasted for 2 years. I experienced it again around 26yo, and went vegan for a few months.
I think this is related to some sort of vitamin deficiency? And to be clear, for me, this isn’t related to pregnancy (both of these situations happened long before I was ever pregnant. I’m also definitely not pregnant now).
Does anyone have any ideas or can point me in the right direction? I wouldn’t mind going back vegan as I felt fantastic, but as a single mom to two toddlers, I don’t have the time or money to do that right now.
And if it helps, I’ve had my levels recently tested.

• Vitamin D deficient - but have been treated with prescription level supplements for 2 months and all symptoms have subsided.
  
• Vitamin B-12 - All good
  
• Iron - Borderline normal, little low.