It would have helped if therapists opened my eyes to the abusive dynamics in my life, but this rarely happened. I grew up in a toxic family system, and despite my frustrations I expressed in therapy, they did not hear my story and advocate for me. I was treated like why am I still bothered by this, while not knowing why I still felt so depressed/anxious/stressed.
CBT asked me if it was really abuse or was I choosing to see it that way. I tried on many different pairs of rose-colored lenses, and while that may have temporarily lifted my rage at being mistreated, it was replaced with GUILT. I still felt bad, but now I questioned if it was my fault for making an abusive persons life more difficult. This is victim blaming 101. I did not deserve to be treated as such, it was wrong. I had every right to feel rageful anger at being mistreated. Holding a person accountable is not just simply projection, resentment, or denial/refusal to look at my own problems. It’s simply accountability.
Trauma-informed therapy told me to experience the emotions of being traumatized. Um, okay. I did that and by feeling my emotions somatically, it just reminded me of how I originally felt, that the abuse was wrong, and there was nothing wrong with me. That’s ironically the exact validation I was seeking from therapy. I shared my issues to therapists because my entire family system invalidated and gaslit me, so I sought this form of external help. I got reinforcement over the truth of what I experienced in the past, but telling myself that “life is safe now” did not work because it’s simply not true. Abusive people are out there, that’s reality. I asked for help with what should I do if I encounter people like that all over again, and I was halted because “that’s not happening right now.” But it was and it did. I needed more than to just process the injustices of the past. I wanted to defend myself and stop being abused in the future. And to not feel bad about that.
Turns out that’s called BOUNDARIES and stuff like that. But my trauma-informed therapist only had me treat my emotions. Anytime I felt anything strongly, like being really irritated or angry at some unfairness, I was told I was being “reactivated” and going into a cptsd response, and I was supposed to try and re-regulate to avoid 4F acting out. Well, I sorta believe differently now: My emotions did not cause my trauma, my emotions only alerted me to it. Part of CPTSD is the lack of adequate protection going forward, that’s why you still don’t feel safe. That’s why you try to protect yourself with anxiety and hypervigilance. Thank you!!
So if I was gonna stop living in so much constant fear, what was the next step I needed? Just telling myself the lie that “I am safe here in the present” felt wrong and make me feel like my natural anxiety was a sign that I had failed to heal? “Grounding” myself is not the same as building practical skills to make myself safe. I got this knowledge from other adult survivors who had similar family experiences as me, and I am so grateful that they saw me and heard me. I enforced my boundaries and watched as people amped up their reactions and abuse attempts, but I held fast. I showed myself that no matter how people react around me, I’m not gonna fawn to them, I’m not giving in, I’m not compromising my boundaries all over again. If I have to run then I will, if I have to fight then I’m not going down, and I won’t guilt trip myself when it all blows over. The first time I did this successfully my anxiety reduced nearly completely because I proved to myself that id fight to keep myself safe. To this day I do not do that silly “I’m safe” affirmation, it just does not honor me or my experiences.
I started therapy because I was seeking many answers and I don’t think the therapists felt it was their job to provide that. I mean, I think they could, and so like, WHY DIDNT THEY, it would help a lot of people, I found it so confusing that many TRAINED psychologists just did not tell me that bad stuff that happened to me was wrong. Ive been told instead its not about being right or wrong 🙃. Of all the times I recounted abusive, unfair situations, the few that got resolved were the ones where they admitted “yeah they had absolutely no right to say that to you,” or “that should not have happened.” Instead of the blank stare and then asking me about MY part in that, which I think we get how that becomes damaging.
My issue with therapy was: they are trained to deal with YOU, alone, and your emotions, only. So by that very process, it gets you thinking about how you’re choosing to have a problem with stuff. It doesn’t seem like a very great setup to help someone get educated on and get free of abusive situations. Oh sure I left therapy well aware of how SAD and angry my life made me feel. But what did I have to work with?
Therapy inherently tells you to work on your emotions to fix your problems. I really thought that by feeling less distressed, I’d somehow become less traumatized. But my emotions were there for a reason, abuse was happening all around me. My problem WASN’T how distressed I felt about being abused. I did not need to medicate that away. I didnt need to process away my current reactions to active situations.
I needed education on abuse to make sense of what I had experienced, and therapy did not provide that. I found that on the internet and from other survivors. Then I instantaneously stopped hating myself for the way that someone else was treating me. THIS was why “It wasn’t my fault.” Because it wasn’t. I didn’t need to treat depression, I was depressed because of the people around me treating me like shit.
No one in my life told me that the abuse was wrong. Even when I explained. I was told I misinterpreted things. Or I was told to just leave, I wasn’t affirmed that yeah that is fucked up.
The times in my life I HAVE received affirmation, mostly from friends or peers btw, those times have passed in my psyche. They did not become trauma responses. Because my issue was resolved. I did not have to bring these up in therapy because there was no lasting issue. I experienced a life stressor and I adapted to believe in myself more and I felt defended by my friend group. I think that is resilience. And a therapist could provide that if no one else has, but in my case they often miss this and wonder why you’re still upset over it.

Hi- 24 year old male.
This will be a somewhat long post as their is a decent amount of backstory here.
So... for the past two and a half years I have been working full time with the federal government on a indian reservation in rural Montana. I am originally from NJ, born and raised. All of my family and friends are from NJ/NY/PA. I love my job/field(EMT/EMS) I am dislike where I work... it is too rural for me.. I am 3hrs from the closet "Big City" and airport. Also the workplace is slightly toxic and the work schedule we have, dose not allow for me to focus on college classes or have a life outside of work..
I will be leaving at the end of June to go back to NJ, move back with my parents and focus on education, pre reqs for a paramedic program and a associates degree. I will also be picking up a per-diem EMS job, to keep getting experience and fill in my schedule.
Here is my hang up... I am kind of hesitating with this.. as I have been working full time basically since I graduated HS.. I don't know what it will be like for me to go from full time to suddenly changing gears and focusing on school and working a per diem job. I should also mention that I have a learning disability, it makes it harder for me to learn complex things at the same pace that a normal student would. I will/ have learned these complex topics sometimes it takes me a bit longer then other students. I also am horrible at math. I nearly did not pass HS algebra, it was a very hard class for me. However I really love EMS, I have been a EMT for 5 years.. I really want to become a paramedic, I want to further my education and myself. I want to be the best that I can be.
Thank you for reading this far.. I know I want to be a paramedic, I just don't like the idea of giving up full time work, however I want to set myself up for success with this.. and I might find that more challenging to do it while working full time.

So I was trying to create an ssd with a windows 10 install for my steam deck. I used the iso creation tool from Microsoft on my pc and wrote to my external ssd. To test it I booted up my pc from the external ssd and got into windows setup. It worked. I turn off my pc and unplug the ssd. The next morning I turn on my pc (without the ssd) and I get a blue screen telling me my install is broken.
I try to repair but it fails multiple times. I reinstalled windows (as it was my only option). Now I have a fresh windows install. All my files are still on my storage, I have a windows.old file but I can’t figure out how to roll back.
Any help would be greatly appreciated. I don’t feel like starting over as I had a highly custom windows setup.
TLDR: I’m stupid and reinstalled windows. I still have my old files and wish to roll back.

Hello Delhites,
The best part of moving to Delhi was its proximity to countless tourist locations (hill stations, national park, historical places).
But honestly most of these places (like Shimla, Mussorie, Rishikesh) are over-commercialised.
I am a type of guy who travels to have some peace. I travel to explore the local culture and stories.
Last time I visted Nagthat, a small hill village in Uttarakhand. I stayed at a homestay that had hill views from window. The locals there took me to a waterfall that is still remains unexplored by tourists. Had lunch with locals, visited the local diety temple and saw the sunset from terrace farms. Countless memories and infinite peace.
I am planning to visit another village in Uttarakhand (Kaladhungi near Jim-Corbett National park) in last weekend of June.
If someone has similar vibes of mine and are open to explore the rural and offbeat locations, DM me. I have prepared the itinerary. I have contacts with the homestay there. So accomodations,food and guide is also sorted.
We will be having a small trek to waterfall and take a jeep safari to National park apart from enjoying some local cultural activities this time.
DM me if you are interested. Even if you can’t make it this time but belong to this club, let’s stay in touch.

Bottom hosting near the airport looking for fun. private entrance. Let me know what kind of release you need and I can make that happen for you.
Ass pic https://i.redgifs.com/i/bouncydimwittedpug.jpg

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Chapter Summary: Scopes: Borzun sneaks a signature from her superior to pass on to the Fleet Admiral
First Contact: Human Security Forces Patrol gets dispatched to investigate the radio signals, and are killed. They do not get a report off, but go missing

Scopes

On Board Space Station 13

"-Got a signal," Chief Data Officer Remec's live audio feed cut out from the video she was richly enjoying, the interruption immediately spoiling her lovely, if otherwise lonely weekend night.
"What was that?" She choked out, lurching awkwardly in the low gravity. She may have been off her shift, but if she was being bothered now... It had better be important.
The Chief Data Officer muted herself on the new local call, a wave of the hand switching her mic back to what she had been watching. She whispered an apology to the cam-boy, and paused their private session, guilt wracking her, Some part of her mind liked to believe that he genuinely would miss her.
Using the fully immersive setup for this constituted a degree of misuse of her equipment, but she was far from alone in the practice.
Supposedly, low gravity enabled all kinds of exotic positions, and she intended to take full advantage of the noiseproof cabins each Data Officer was provided. Curiosity had given way to vague plans after enough sessions. First, she was thwarted from having alone time with the Asset. Now, she felt she was building trust with one who had caught her eye.
The special bodysuit may have kept her insulated against the faulty old air ducts' temperamental nature as she moved about the station from office to office, but it was restrictive and uncomfortable. More consequentially, taking it off and putting it on was noisy, if not easy to do quickly for the sake of any emergencies that might happen on-board a ship.
The bodysuit's crinkling finally tapered off after wrapping itself around her form with an almost vacuum seal firmness, and she switched on her camera, hoping she didn't appear flushed or sweaty. Borzun's gracile, almost-masculine face filled the main view screen.
"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said. I think the comms array on this old hulk's finally starting to give out," her junior officer apologized.
Great. If Borzun went ahead and filed a report, that would require an inspection. Remec silently mourned the waste of credits. Even if it wasn't her purse, Remec knew she had a limited number of credits she could skim for 'Cultural Research' before someone would take notice, especially if the allotment for maintenance didn't amount to enough to effect so simple a repair.
"Perhaps it was just a software bug. I can hear you just fine, you can hear me, right? I was just asking: 'What seems to be the issue?'" Remec fibbed and tried to change topics in the same breath.
"We've got a rogue signal, unencrypted. Apparently the emergency radio system has been hijacked, priority one ticket from the surface."
She lamented that with this potentially pending repair bill hanging over her head, she couldn't tap it for the bribes she'd need to sneak him, or someone like him up here like she'd hoped. What a waste.
"'Priority one'?"
"Ma'am, please, we have to hurry, it's an emergency," Borzun's shamelessly pleading voice was grating, and Chief Data Officer Remec forced herself to not grunt in annoyance at being addressed in that tone, and she shook her head free of the mental cobwebs and out of the pleasant, lingering tingles of the afterglow. What a terrible way to come down from such heights.
"Yes, I'm aware what a priority one is. I was just...settling another fight between The Decimals. Apparently their Data Teams are threatening to hurl themselves out their airlocks, just so that they can board the other's space stations and attack each other."
"Of course, ma'am. I did hear they'd recently been placed upon separate vessels. This isn't about that, though."
Remec almost felt insulted that Borzun sounded almost like she didn't believe her; The excuse was grounded in truth well enough. Her last meeting having been a debriefing of what went on at Space Station 92. It had been split into decimals, 92.2, 92.4, and '92.6', or 'Data Team Balkans,' as they were now known, with the probability they'd soon need a 92.8 just to cover the same geographic are of what had once been just 'Satellite 92.'
Apparently the posting had been an unending migraine for their poor Chief Data Officer, and equally as frustrating for the General on the ground who found her troops making a show of firing ineffectually at units from other postings to curry favor with the locals. Remec could still hear the seething tone of their Chief Data Officer, "I don't care how effective it is at ingratiating yourself with them, firing your weapon at other law-abiding Shil'vati without provocation is still a crime! It is considered what civilian governing authorities call a 'War Crime' on this planet! No, being a 'War Criminal' is not 'Based,' and their continued existence is not a provocation! It could potentially violate our treaty with Earth's government! Other factions could legally have grounds to jump in to conduct 'peacekeeping'!"
Borzun's expression seemed pensive- lost in thought despite the so-called emergency that had pulled Remec away from her fantasy.
The only consolidation she had was that as bad as things were for Space Station 13 presently, at least their problems were temporary, and confined to the planet's surface.
"What's the issue? I already read that the Public Address signal was hijacked. Just reset it." That didn't require bothering her.
"We did," the young svelte Data Officer offered apologetically, skin looking more blue than purple in the artificial light. "No effect. We need them turned off for now, and that requires your clearance. The message is instructing the insurgent humans how to resist, and is spreading disinformation that we are kidnapping everyone. That's greatly hampering the efforts of the Governess-General, so she really wants this done, fast."
"It's not 'everyone'," the commanding officer snorted in annoyance. "It's a...couple dozen thousand." The number was high, she had to admit, and still climbing. Quite an impressive percentage of the state's small population. She had a nagging sense that an even larger pile of work was about to be placed squarely on her desk for all this mess, and fought to resist dumping the resentment she felt at this near-certainty on her subordinate, when simply dumping the paperwork would be far more productive.
"It's certainly distressing the local population, causing a great deal of unrest. Even the reinforcements that were deployed to Delaware may find themselves embroiled in riot control," Borzun agreed readily enough, though she sounded somewhat distracted as she spoke, her eyes flicking to the side, likely as she prepared the form signature. "Since it's an emergency system, that requires an override, and since it's a communications signal, that's our domain. I've attached the paperwork for you to forward to Acting Fleet Admiral Admiral Ra'los and the System Governess."
"Done," she muttered, signing it without even reading and giving it a hand gesture. and felt grateful that at least Borzun was efficient in her interruptions. So much better than dealing with the Asset, who remained under the Marines' lock-and-key, but kept trying to lodge all kinds of complaints and empty threats. The file disappeared off her desk just as quickly as it had appeared, and Borzun seemed relieved to have gotten her permission.
Hope blossomed in the bosom of Remec that this would be over fast enough to rejoin the session.
"Was that all?"
"Sent," Borzun chirped, though her face was mirthless. "There's also the matter of local shortwave radio signals. We've been operating on orders to jam the channels, but they are operating on military bandwidths reserved for use of security forces and other agencies, but are clearly local individuals. This is in defiance of local and federal law. Again, that will require clearance to do so. Human authorities consider this quite a significant breach of law."
"You have my permission to shut those down, too, or otherwise jam them."
"Rather than shutting them down by jamming, since they seem to just jump channels and crowd the airwaves further, Lieutenant Goshen- sorry, Captain Goshen and Lieutenant Lesha believe that this presents an opportunity to steer us toward their points of origin, and to add them to any prosecutions we mount on the arrested, and to make up for the missing data we lost when the Data Center was destroyed. We can try mobilizing small task forces to isolate the busier signals and disrupt them. That won't drain manpower too much, and might even bring peace to the state. Or, we may end up achieving Azraea's goal of flushing the rebels out, and finding others who are sympathetic to the insurgency and bringing them to justice. At the least, it might reclaim some equipment out of their hands, temporarily crippling their ability to continue coordinating before the 'primary' election."
"I see. So you're asking me to not shut the signal down, in case anyone else asks. Is that right?"
"Yes, ma'am. If the signal is jammed, they'll jump channels, and we may lose information we're gathering, too."
"Alright, sure. I'll refuse any requests to shut them down, make sure the officers are informed to not lodge such requests to us." Anything to get her moment alone back. "And Borzun? Just a reminder; You don't need my permission to cooperate with the Governess-General's forces or to comply with her orders," Remec added. She noted with mounting irritation she had enough time to restart the session, but that the timer was ticking down, while Borzun didn't hang up.
"These ones seem to be live signals, delivering instructions to teams and coordinating chaos. Can I be dedicated to that, and use your clearance to utilize visual scanning once the sun rises? I may be requested to guide patrols to investigate these."
Remec was almost ready to pull her hair out. Visual observation from the satellites was always fiercely resisted by noblewomen. She almost denied the permission, but knew Azraea's wrath would likely follow if the Data Teams were held back on her orders. Like she doesn't hate us enough.
"Are they evacuated?"
"Who?"
"Who do you think I mean, the Empress? I'm asking if the Noblewomen from Delaware are still there, of course!" Remec finally snapped, and the slender Data Officer recoiled as if she'd been slapped by the rebuke.
"As-a-aah...yes, ma'am?" Borzun tried. "The order was sent out, I believe all families are off-world, spare one. They're apparently looking for a girl, gathering the family before liftoff per the evacuation order, but I've got two files here? Must be a clerical error."
A judgment call, then, but a simple one.
"Fine. Permission granted. But keep your gaze confined to areas of operations, and only if you think it would help an already active operation. Don't let your curiosity get the better of you."
"Yes ma'am," Borzun reported, sounding overly-repentant. Naturally, fragile Borzun wished to dodge witnessing or working with the unpleasantness of rounding up terrorists. Likely she'd been hoping for a 'no.' "What if I find and intercept a signal? Should I trace it?"
The content of the signals they'd shut down and guided to the interior after intercept were likely disturbing, and Borzun was undeniably among the softest of those aboard the old relic that served as Space Station 13. Remec had hoped the girl would have gained some toughness in Earth's gravity, or at least a hardened heart from being in approximate proximity to a terrorist strike's explosion. Then she might have learned to understand what a terrorist riddled state truly meant, and the necessity of their duties, but instead the opposite had happened. She'd come back with an even softer spot for the humans.
Oh well, there was little point in having a potential sympathizer in such a position or subjecting her subordinates to it out of some vague, unhelpful cruelty. Maybe more exposure would finally do her good. Toughen her up, and get her to stop crying to her seniors whenever something went wrong. Remec, sign this. Remec, can I do that? Now that Remec thought about it, even the level of permission she'd been bothered for didn't require her signature- Borzun was senior enough to shut down signals on her own.
"Of course. Find the signals, the broadcasters, and shut them down locally, if you know what I mean."

They Say First Contact's the Hardest

[Meanwhile, back at Camp Death...]
The staccato pops of gunpowder rifles sent me from 'fast asleep' to wide awake in a heartbeat.
I threw the blanket and sleeping bag off of me, boots flopping loosely after I'd left them undone to avoid cutting off my circulation as staggered to my feet, finding my way to standing tall but disoriented.
The muffled crack reports of energy weapons being discharged responded, and I ran to the light- finding myself staring out at the almost empty stream below. I doubled back just in time to hear deafening responses of rounds fired from railguns split the air.
I passed over the hard dirt floor, pushed my way past a sentry who had come to find me, and climbed up the trench ladder to watch, dozens of others pushing their way out from the claustrophobically packed bunkers and tunnels to see the commotion.
Blinking the sleep from my eyes and grateful for the rapidly adapting shaded lenses, I saw distant figures pushing their way through the tall grasses as ever more rounds began to fire at them, several charging down from Camp Death and running them down where they fell, chasing the path of beaten down grasses to finish the job.
Maybe they were true loyalists. Maybe they were just well-trained. Maybe they came from countries long locked in bitter civil wars, where surrenders led to fates worse than dying on one's feet. Whatever the reason, the last of them finally staggered and fell. None of them had even tried to surrender. I could respect that, even if I found myself on the other end of the conflict as them.
By the position of the sun and season, I guessed it might be around six in the morning, and we'd just had first hard contact- that I was aware of.
Shit.
I looked over to Radio's pile of equipment, a masked insurgent with the golden stripe of yellow electrical tape wound around their mask to indicate their role flashed me a thumbs up. I approached the sentry after seeing no more movement, hearing the distant gunfire as insurgents fell upon the Security Forces soldiers with zeal. I didn't hear any more lasgun fire. "Please tell me that was turned on," I gestured to the jammer.
"They were spotted on approach from the field. I powered on the jammer in the way I was instructed. They promptly stopped advancing on us, likely having lost contact with their superiors, and began to turn back before coming up the hill. We decided it was better than letting them wander out of jammer range and summon reinforcements."
"Good," I muttered. I could see G-Man poking his head out of the Command Cabin. Had he and George put that idea in my head just to steal my bed off me? I shook my head. George wasn't that underhanded; Not that I minded. He'd had a rougher day than almost anyone.
"Haul them and their equipment in. Get any wounded of ours to the doc bot. We can interrogate them."
The sentry gave a hand on heart. "Sir."
And so the first blood had been drawn. The squad was only six soldiers, I learned. Half a squad, or two 'pods.'
In the time since last night, the slow trickle of ones-and-twos had turned into a steady stream pouring into Camp Death. Now that the morning shone through the thick trees ringing our little forest. I wondered idly if the trees had always been so- certainly it didn't seem to me Verns had ever mentioned such heavy machinery as to bring those trees, and my swing of a hatchet hadn't even caused the bark to split off from the trunks.
Knowing I was stalling, I paced the ramparts, delivering quick reminders, last second orders to the new arrivals. Eventually it became clear even to me that I was being more of an annoyance than helpful leader; The sentries knew their duties well. So I resigned myself to dutifully patrolling the grounds, never far from the radio tower, nor the ramparts, keeping a chest puffed out and a brave face again, occasionally striking a pose as I squinted through my mask, as if I could make the enemy materialize.
I dared not call it a facade, no matter how true it might've been.
[Author's Note: Almost did it again, had to delete the first attempt at a post because I left in too much.]
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I don't know if this is just a me thing, but I have this irrational fear that people are able to somehow hear what I'm listening to if I happen to be out somewhere. And this is despite the fact that I have earphones on, so logically speaking there's no way they should be able to hear anything.
Sometimes when I'm outside, I take one of my earpods off "sneakily" and check to see if people can hear the music through it (or worse, to see if my phone has randomly decided to glitch out and start blasting music through its speakers).
It's gotten so bad that I have to pause my music if I'm walking near other people because it feels like they can hear it and they're judging my tastes and entire personality.
Anyone else?

So I'll say straight away that physical attraction is a must for me.. (don't hate me lol) but also personality is a big one too! Also I'd prefer if you had your own place and lived near ish to me and possibly drove as it would make things easier etc. As for work I can't support us both so hopefully you work as well 😅.
Hobby wise I'm into gaming, baking and just spending lazy days eating snacks and watching movies. I love going out for meals and watch things at the cinema so it'd be great if you did too :). I'm not looking to rush anything or jump into a new relationship unless things go super well! But we can just see how it goes etc.
Looks wise I'm 5'4ft , curvy and have short hair with a shaved side and back 😅. ( it looks good dw). So if I sound like your type then hit me up with a photo and location ! Thanks.x

I’ve decided to start opening up to my doctor about my clinical depression. He was taken aback when I mentioned it and had an aghast look on his face. But regained composure and ran me through a depression quiz. I answered every day to every question nearly and he prescribed me Lexapro and that was that.
I am hesitant to start taking it because I am on a journey right now to climb out of rock bottom. I am determined to speak to some professionals more equipped to handle mental health issues (a mental health clinic nearby, behavioral therapist, psychiatrist, autism specialist maybe, social worker even) I just know that once I start taking it I will be locked out of taking any other medications.
The question is, should I just wait and see what my other options are available to me medication wise or should I start taking this now so it can start working sooner

I’ve worked in a jewelry store for several years, and it’s a pretty routine job. One of the best parts of the job is when you work with a customer who is celebrating something, and you get to be part of their excitement and happiness. That’s a big part of the experience of buying jewelry. Someone isn’t just buying a ring or a watch, they are commemorating a moment, and the jewelry is simply a tangible symbol of that. And sometimes those tangible reminders of timeless moments need to be repaired for one reason or another. That was what started my strangest experience on the job.
It was a Wednesday afternoon when the first customer came in. An older gentleman wearing a flawlessly tailored three-piece suit, he had slicked back grey hair and eyes that seemed to study everything they encountered.
“Hello, how may I assist you?” I asked him with a friendly nod when he approached me while I was at the counter.
“Yes, I’d like to have my watch repaired.”
“Of course. What is the issue?”
“The clasp isn’t working.” He took the watch out of his suit pocket and placed it on the counter. It was an expensive gold wristwatch with a small diamond in the center. To demonstrate, he tried to fasten it shut and it wouldn’t.
“I see. We can certainly fix that.”
Then I launched into our rates and prices, which he agreed to. Once he’d signed all the paperwork, his watch was taken to the back where it was properly cataloged and stored away until one of our professionals would fix the clasp. Once that was done, I went back to work and that was it.
I didn’t see the gentleman in the suit until a week later, and the watch was ready to be picked up. He came dressed in a different, but equally expensive suit. Then he gave his name, and I hustled to the back to pick up his now fixed watch.
Once he signed the paperwork confirming he’d picked up his order and paid the bill, he took the watch, placed it on his wrist, and closed the clasp, where it shut with a satisfying click. The gesture made him smile.
“Good job Michael,” he said to me.
“Thank you. Our staff are the best.”
“I know, that’s why I’ve always come here. There’s no chance I would go anywhere else for this. It means the world to me. I had a nasty spill at home, and the clasp was probably broken in the fall.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“That’s very kind of you. But I was fine. Lucky too. But anyhow, you have a wonderful day.”
“You do the same.” I smiled as he turned around and left the store.
I didn’t think anything more about him until about two weeks later when I saw on the news, he had been in a car accident close to where he lived. He was unharmed, but his car was completely totaled. No one would be able to fix that.
Since I was about to leave for work when I saw that, I shut off the TV and headed out. My day at work was uneventful until the end when a young woman in her late 20s walked into the store. By that time of day it was quiet, and she was the only customer. She was casually dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, and she looked like she felt a little out of place in the store.
“Hello, how may I assist you?” I asked as I gave her my most welcoming smile.
“Hi,” she smiled in return as she hesitantly walked to the counter. “I’d like to get a bracelet repaired.”
“Of course. And what bracelet would we be working on?”
“This one.” She reached in her sweatshirt pocket and took out a black velvet box. She opened it, took out the bracelet inside, and placed it gently on the counter. It was a beautiful gold bracelet dotted with sapphires. Right in the middle, there was an empty space where a sapphire should have been.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She nodded solemnly. “And here’s the sapphire that fell out.”
She reached into her pocket and took out a small plastic bag. The missing sapphire was inside.
“Very good.” I took the bag in hand, set it on the counter, and got to work with the paperwork. Once she had her pickup time in hand, she left the store, and I went to put both the bracelet and the bag with the sapphire away. I had just put both away when I got a very odd feeling. The best thing I can describe it as is unease. But I shrugged it off, reminding myself that the customer was obviously going through something. It happens a lot, as jewelry can be inherited for sad reasons, or just bring a lot of emotions to the surface. So I finished logging the order and returned to the counter.
I was there a week later when she returned for her repaired bracelet. This time she seemed slightly more at ease, and when she saw the repaired bracelet, her eyes lit up.
“Thank you so much,” she said with a wide smile. “I feel so much better now that it’s back to normal.”
“That’s terrific. That’s what we’re here for.”
“This bracelet means the world to me, so I was beyond upset to see it get damaged.”
“Completely understandable.”
“It was a gift from my husband. For our wedding anniversary. We took a vacation together and it was a disaster. Our luggage got stolen and it was downhill from there.”
“I’m truly sorry to hear that.”
“Thank you. And I’m sorry for rambling in the middle of your store.”
“No, it’s ok. That’s what we’re here for. Jewelry tells a story, and no two pieces tell the same story.”
“That makes a lot of sense.” She nodded. “Thanks again for your help.”
“Of course. Have a great day.”
“You too.”
She turned away from the counter and walked back outside. Then I went on with the rest of my day.
The rest of the month went by without anything noteworthy until one day, a woman with long grey hair came in towards the middle of my shift. She was dressed in a black business suit, wore glasses over intelligent green eyes, and carried a small black purse.
“Hello, how may I assist you?”
“Good afternoon, I was hoping to get a locket engraved.”
“We can certainly do that. Which locket would we be engraving?”
“This one.” She reached into her purse and took out an elegant gold locket, which she carefully placed on the counter.
“And what are we engraving on it?”
“For Marissa.”
I wrote that carefully on the order.
“And where do you want that?”
“Inside the locket.”
“And what script would you like?” I asked before I presented her with a list of the various options she could go with.
She studied it for a moment before she pointed to an option halfway down the list.
“That one.”
“Good choice.” I nodded approvingly before I wrote that into the order as well. “Is there anything else you would like to incorporate? Or that we should know before we file this order?”
“No, that’s it. It’s for my niece. She’s getting married.”
“Congratulations to her.”
“Thank you. We’ve always been very close, so I’m very happy for her.”
“That’s great.”
Then she finished signing the paperwork, and once she was able to leave the store, I filed away the order and the locket for our experts. The rest of the day passed by, until I was left to close the place up. I went through the end of shift routine, closed up, and headed to my car. As I was walking towards it, I suddenly got the feeling I was being watched. So I immediately looked around to check the area.
Nobody was watching me, and there was nothing going on. Still, I carefully walked to my car, got inside, and quickly left once I had locked the doors. I immediately felt better as I drove away.
I didn’t see the woman with the locket again, but she picked up her order, and my boss told me she was thrilled with it. I wasn’t surprised I wasn’t there, because I was on vacation that week. I’d long been looking forward to seeing my best friend Craig’s new cabin out in the woods, so the first chance I got, I’d made plans with him to go see it.
It didn’t disappoint. It was like something out of a painting with its log structure and stone fireplace. And it had all the modern conveniences you could want, and plenty of room for guests. Craig’s parents and his sister Christina were also going to be there, so I was looking forward to seeing them as well.
“There he is.” Craig greeted me with a grin before he and his whole family took turns hugging me and saying it had been too long. Then I took my bags inside, got settled in my room, and we had some dinner. Then we all headed out to the backyard, where Craig and his dad built a fire that we all sat around for hours. After we all had our fill of s’mores and it had gotten late, we all went inside, said goodnight, and headed to our respective rooms. I was tired from the long drive out of the city, so I fell asleep quickly.
It felt like moments later when I was shaken awake by Craig.
“Mike, wake up.”
“Huh?” I mumbled out.
“Wake up,” he whispered intently.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s someone outside.”
That woke me up immediately.
“Someone outside?”
He nodded. “And we think there’s more than one. You weren’t followed here, were you?”
“No,” I said quietly.
I quietly got out of bed and crouched by Craig on the floor. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest, and I had no idea what to do. Not only was I in an unfamiliar area, I was in a house I had never been in before. But I took a deep breath and tried to stay calm.
“Did you call the police?” I asked after what felt like an eternity.
“Yeah. They said they’d be out here as soon as they could, but out here, who knows what that means. At least we have an alarm system. And you know my dad.”
I did. Craig’s dad was the kind of guy you wanted to have with you in a situation like this. That was the one thing that kept me at least relatively calm, aside from the fact I wasn’t alone.
“Did he send you in here?”
Craig nodded. “Told me to stay here until he told me otherwise.”
Time seemed to stop as the two of us sat there, silently watching each other while I tried my best to ignore the fear creeping in the back of my mind.
It seemed like we’d been sitting there for hours when suddenly, there was a loud crash from downstairs that was immediately followed by the sound of an alarm screaming to life. Then came several loud bangs in rapid succession that were followed by the much quieter sound of footsteps fleeing from the cabin. Then, I heard Craig’s dad yelling at whoever was running away. I couldn’t quite make out what he said, but I didn’t blame whoever had been fleeing.
Craig and I had bolted upright at the commotion, but we stayed inside as Craig’s dad had said. Moments later, the alarm was shut off and there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Come on out guys,” Craig’s dad instructed us.
He didn’t need to tell us twice. We immediately bolted out of my room while Craig’s mom came out of Christina’s room, where the two of them had been during this time.
“Everything’s fine. They’re gone,” Craig’s dad said before he walked back to the living room where he’d been keeping watch with his gun.
We all quietly sat there until the police arrived and took statements about what had happened. They agreed to put a car outside the cabin for the night and keep watch on the area. By the time they left, I felt exhausted. So I fell asleep even quicker than before. Fortunately, no one interrupted my sleep this time, and I woke up late the next morning.
Craig’s mom made pancakes for breakfast, and since we were all starving, we were happy to dig in.
Once we all had our fill and were sipping coffee, the conversation drifted to other matters. At some point, I noticed Christina was wearing a necklace I hadn’t noticed before. It was a simple, but elegant gold hoop on a chain.
“Nice necklace Christina,” I said before I took another sip of coffee.
“Oh thanks. It was a birthday gift from Aunt Helen.”
“Nice.”
“She didn’t get it from your store, but it’s still nice.”
I chuckled. “No doubt.”
Then Craig’s dad, who had been reading the morning paper, turned the page. As he did, I saw the front page and saw there was a headline about some company declaring bankruptcy. The company didn’t sound familiar to me at all, but there was a photo of the family that owned it. In the middle of the photo was the woman who had come in to get the locket engraved.
My stomach sank and the pancakes I’d just eaten now felt uncomfortably heavy. Craig must’ve sensed something because he immediately asked, “Mike? What’s wrong?”
I managed to explain the story of the customers who’d recently come into the store and the unfortunate incidents that seemed to have happened to them. Craig and his family quietly listened to the story until I finished, then added that nothing like last night had happened to them before. Once we all got back to the city, Christina gave me the paperwork her Aunt Helen had given her with the necklace, and I did a little research. Since jewelry stores keep tons of information on file, it didn’t take me long to find out the scoop on Christina’s necklace.
The gold in it had come from a local mine in California. It had been doing quite well until one day there was a cave in, and a ton of workers died in the accident. The mine was eventually shut down, but not until all the gold that could be retrieved was gotten. And I didn’t need to look up the mine to know rumor was the place was considered cursed or haunted by locals. I’d been to the area years ago on a vacation, and the place had given me the creeps. But even I got chills when I looked later through the store’s records and saw documents that the man in the suit and the other two customers had all brought in items containing gold mined from the area.
Christina wasted no time in trading in her necklace for a ring made of silver. When she did, I got a text from her that had a picture of the ring next to a joke about hoping it was her own personal silver bullet to ward off monsters. It made me laugh.

I'll be having my initial interview for a mechanical engineering job. unfortunately, I wasn't regularized after my probationary period. TBH, it was very unfair how they graded me that lead to me separation with my previous employer. Although I admit I have lapses when it comes to communication, my technical skills on the job surely is sufficient to carry my probationary grades. The fact that my 5th and final grade was much lower than my 4th month grade was very upsetting. Should the topic come up why I left the company, will I mention I wasn't regularized or tell my interviewer that I resigned on my own? BTW, my previous employer was a 1.5 hour drive from my home, so I rented. If I were to be accepted in the company I'm applying, they have free shuttle service near my home.

You see, although I'm just a new member, I've known Deftones for some years now. Like a fair chunk of fans here, I've discovered them alongside with some of their nu-metal "contemporaries" (Slipknot, Korn, etc). Sure, from White Pony onward Deftones pretty much stopped being a nu-metal band, but you get my point.
The thing is that this band was such a breath of fresh air for me at the time. White Pony was the first album I decided to listen from them (Back To School included lol), and I perfectly remember the first time I heard Digital Bath. After all these years, that's still probably the only Deftones song that was actually love at first sight. Don't get me wrong, I also love lots of different songs from them, but most of those have been growers, so my reaction has never been as immediate as with DB. That song was so inexplicably special and different to anything I've had listened to at the time. First of all, Chino's vocal inflections weren't nearly as angsty or tortured as most of the nu-metal/alt-metal vocalists from that time period. Second, there's not a single scream in that song, so instead of this stereotypical passive-aggressive type of vocals building up to a full-on screamed breakdown, Chino maintains his signature smooth, sensual, almost ASMR-like vocals that remind me of sophisti-pop artists like Sade. Instrumentally, it's still a heavy and dense chorus, but when he actually decides to make use of his higher register, he belts out this falsetto that makes the climax of the song feel even more cathartic and satisfying. That's what truly captured me about the song: it manages to feel menacing, euphoric and elegant at the same time. I literally couldn't ask for more.
I would also like to mention that Frank Delgado's waterfall samples and synthwork add so much more to the overall experience (which is also why most of Adrenaline and Around The Fur feels like it's lacking something for me). As you will see, every Deftones song I truly love has at least a little bit of Frank's input. If I had to make my own 11 song Deftones album, the tracklist would be the following:
-Digital Bath
-Change
-Lovers
-Beware
-Diamond Eyes (save for the scream at the bridge)
-Beauty School
-Tempest (again, removing Chino's scream at the bridge for my taste)
-Gauze
-Rubicon
-Headless
-Ohms
I should also note that I'm not at all into their more post-hardcore oriented tracks. They sound way too juvenile for me. That's why almost every single alternative metal band I've tried to get into was really not for me. The genre itself is really not for me, Deftones is pretty much the exception, as they've always experimented with their sound by effectively mixing a lot of interesting genres outside of their sphere. Today I challenge you to recommend me some bands/artists whose style you could describe as the trifecta I've described above: menacing, euphoric and elegant. It doesn't even need to be "heavy" by rock or metal standards. I'm willing to be open to any western music genre that features vocals, no matter if it's acoustic, electronic or a mix of both, like Deftones. Anything goes. Thank you so much for reading this!

I posted here a few weeks ago about an incorrect charge where I was charged $175.00 after pumping gas at a gas station where I only spent ~$45 for 13 gallons of gas. My dispute had been denied after the merchant submitted a receipt claiming I purchased over 48 gallons of gas.
I resubmitted the dispute with the following letter explaining the circumstances of pumping gas/why I didn’t have a receipt l, my attempts to resolve with the gas station, as well as screenshots of over a dozen google reviews. This is the letter I sent in:
To whom it may concern,
Below is a detailed account of the events surrounding the disputed Exxon mobile charge for $175.00 at XXXXXX in XXXXXX. This information was also provided to the XXXXXX Police on Sunday, May 14th. The police report number for your reference is: XXXXXX.
I pulled into a gas station I have never been to before on my way home from work as a resident physician at a nearby hospital. I began pumping my gas and shortly after began to be harassed by a man. He seemed to be one of multiple men who were hanging around the gas station going up to customers. He stood very close to me, next to the pump. I was worried about the possibility of being mugged, car jacked or attacked. He began asking me many questions including about my job, the scrubs I was wearing, if I work at the nearby hospital, if I was a nurse, if he could get a job at the hospital. He asked multiple times to pump my gas which I declined. He also asked for cash multiple times which I also declined. I filled my gas tank with ~13 gallons for a total of ~40-45$. I finished pumping gas and quickly got in my car and left, happy that I was not mugged, car jacked or attacked. I do not know if he used the pump after I left and I did not get a receipt as I was focusing on leaving safely.
Later that night I noticed the charge from the gas station was pending and was for $175. I assumed that was the hold and it would revert to the appropriate amount, $40-45. However, over the next few days this did not happen and the charge was finalized, prompting me to attempt to contact the gas station. I attempted to call the gas station several times without answer. When I was able to get through to someone I was asked if I had let anyone pump my gas for me and I was told to call back as this cashier was unable to help with the issue. I spoke with corporate Exxon mobile by phone as well who reported there was nothing they could do, I would have to speak with the local gas station. When I again spoke with the gas station, this time they told me that Exxon mobile owns the pumps and there is nothing they can do about charges, I would have to contact corporate Exxon mobile. I again called corporate who again said it would have to be the local gas station. Unable to achieve any resolution, I filed a dispute with AMEX as I only pumped and received ~13 gallons of gas for $40-45.
The gas station provided AMEX with a receipt showing purchase of over 48 gallons of gas totaling exactly $175.00. I certainly did not buy or receive over 48 gallons of gas. I drive a Mazda CX-5 with a 15 gallon tank. This is more than 3x the amount of gas I could possibly fit in my car. I do not own any other vehicles or even containers that can hold gas. I attempted to obtain video footage from the gas station, but was told I could not. I attempted to speak with the manageowner but was refused further information. I spoke with a woman named Debbie who said it was her first day and that she was the manager. She refused to provide a last name. She refused to provide the name or contact information for another manager or owner of the establishment. Please obtain the CCTV footage from the gas station of the time of the purchase and I assure you you will not see me pumping nearly 50 gallons of gas, nor was I even at the gas station long enough to allow for enough time to pump 50 gallons. You will see me fill my Mazda cx-5 with ~13 gallons of gas while getting harassed by a strange man and then leave.
Upon review of the gas station google reviews, it appears this is not an uncommon problem for this gas station. There are over a dozen recent google reviews noting similar experiences being overcharged with many of the reviewers experiencing the same problem of being overcharged at exactly $175.
Please let me know if you need further clarification or information regarding accepting this dispute. Thank you for your assistance in this matter.
After submitting with this letter, I initially received a credit for $130, but this was taken away and my dispute was again denied as the merchant resubmitted the same receipt for purchase of 48 gallons of gas.
I spoke with someone on the phone on Monday and resubmitted the dispute under goods not received as I did not receive the gas. I also submitted a complaint with the CFPB on Monday as well. This morning, my dispute has been denied again due to the receipt stating 48gallons were purchased. AMEX has been adamant that it can not be submitted as fraud since I originally used the card my self.
Very frustrated by this outcome and the time spent talking to AMEX who have over all been pleasant but useless. Not sure if there’s anything to do from here.

As the title says...
I will be heading to Cubao tonight - (near Gateway). Will be driving off Makati at 8, kasi coding pa. Meet up or pick up location along Carlos Palanca. Anyone who's also headed the same way, sabay ka na? Working professional po tayo, kaya don't worry harmless tayo. 😊
DM me. PS - with a selfie of your company ID (para sure lang din ako)