Currently dealing with the worst skin of my life, seeing a derm but don't really know what to do and unsure of what is causing it.
For reference, I've dealt with acne in the past, it took a couple years to fully clear my skin but I was able to do so in late 2020 and up until the end of 2022. However, previously it was quite different--smaller and more so all over my face. Epiduo forte + erythromycin did the trick.
Back in December, I had a bad reaction to the moisturizer that was working really well for me-- Korres Wild Rose Cream is used AM/PM, and recovery from that caused a small breakout. I saw my derm in January, and he decided to put me on Tretinoin 0.025 (alternating nights), BP cleanser, and Clindamycin lotion, and I switched my moisturizer to Laneige cica sleeping mask (living in extremely dry/cold climate) AM & PM to compensate with tret dryness.
I purged immediately all over, but then as my skin on my forehead/nose cleared up, the rest got gradually got worse over the course of four months so I ended up seeing my derm again in early May and he told me to stop and put me back on epiduo forte and erythromycin and also added a sulfur wash and doxycycline. I also changed my moisturizer to INNbeauty's 10+10 "more-sturizer" thinking that the cica sleeping mask was too heavy and maybe part of the problem. Skin has continued to get worse, even faster this time around. Recently switched to neutrogena hydro boost wondering if cetearyl alcohol (in both the laneige and innbeauty moisturizers, but NOT the Korres that worked so well) was the culprit.
**This is the kicker for me--it's concentrated entirely along my cheeks and jawline, nose and forehead are basically clear.** My left cheek in particular is nearly covered in deep cysts/nodules like I've never experienced before.
Current routine:
AM- Wash face with prescription sulfur cleanser, erythromycin, neutrogena hydro boost extra dry cream, la roche posay SPF, Doxycycline + probiotic
PM- Wash face with prescription sulfur cleanser (double if SPF day), epiduo forte on alternating nights, neutrogena hydro boost extra dry cream, doxycycline

Hello all, Im in Houston and the costco near me is super busy, i love their product and thinking about buying tire there. However when I spoke with the store associate, she remind me that even with appointment, I have to schedule at least 2 weeks out and average wait time is 4 hours.
I really want to be a loyal customer here, but waiting that long is quite …. Unique? If anyone have experience in the Houston Area please shine some light on this matter. Appreciate all yall help.

Really sick of modding skyrim myself for 5+ years so i'm looking mainly for modpacks where everything is already setup and i can easily install it and play with a few clicks. I don't mind paying for it as long as it's good obviously. it's to the point where i'm even down pay $60 for someone to send me their completely modded third person skyrim
the closest i've gotten to that is custom Project Skyrim w/ patreon mods but it wasn't nearly as nice enough as some of these youtube videos I see where it pretty much looks like a different game

So there is a girl i Went out with the other day. We had drinks and saw a comedy show for an hour. We made a lot of pleasant and fun small talk. She took my hand with her hand and placed it on her right thigh for nearly an hour. .... She then said right away, 'we should go to a hookah bar since you like it next time.' ... We then had some food and had a good time. At the end she said she had fun and said 'you have my number' and hugged me.... Next time il get a kiss i didnt try. But the next day i said i texted her i said somethig liek 'hey! i have fun yesterday. i feel we had good chemistry, i like you. wondering if you were free tomorrow for a music show or wanted to go to a hookah bar like you said.'
she said 'hey! i also had fun yesterday. i have plans this weekend but another time!'

For context the time of this trip report was during my 9th grade year, which was about 4-5 years ago
Back in grade 9, I went out to the woods behind my school during lunch to sesh (smoke) usually a good 50+ people was out there partyin at lunch. Anyways, I seen my plug takin a toke so I approached him and asked to cop a gram or two (of weed) he said “yo fam I got you lemme just go grab that from ____ he just over there”
so he goes and comes back and hands me this little pink plastic circular container (looks sort of like a small grinder) I open it up and it looks quality fosho, solid nugs not much leaf but it did have an odd colour so I asked if he knew the strain. He said “nah but trust me this shit good” Being 14 and stupid I was like yeah bet fuck it and grabbed my plugs pisser to toke out of. (a pisser is pretty much a gravity bong, will include a pic here: https://ibb.co/n7cjBBg)
I pack the bowl pretty fat, rip my toke and immediately start dying coughing which lasted a good ten minutes nonstop. People around me started to notice and was asking if I was okay I was like yeah i’m bless dwbi. Eventually one of my friends approached said it’s time to head to class, so I stand up. That’s when the nightmare officially begins.
As soon as I stand up my vision goes completely wavy and I got really dizzy. I said to my buddy I need to sit down so I found a log and sat down. Once I sat down again, I lost all feeling throughout my body I was paralyzed. I put my head in my hands and was immediately transported to a different reality that I was trapped in.
My hearing went fucked and everything started changing in tone and pitch and was muffled. I was seeing myself from 3rd person but also seeing hallucinating inside my mind at the same time. It felt like I truely vanished from earth and that my soul was in another realm. I had this horrifying visual that kept replaying and it was a clown face with its tongue sticking out and I was running on the tongue while some sort of object chased me and while this happened all I could here was this fucked up frequency going up and down in pitch. (According to by standers I was literally crying and “screaming for my mommy” and was screaming “please make it stop someone please make it stop” for a good 10 minutes)
Then for a few seconds I was able to see and hear again, I looked up and 20 or so people were surrounding me just staring at me in shock like “yo wtf…..” All I remember saying is “what’s happening? someone please help me” and then I was sent right back into this nightmare realm. Eventually everyone must have left because I came back to reality a bit later and was accompanied by 4 stoners I had never met. I asked them to call my mom since I couldn’t move.
They did their best to keep me calm and grounded, played some music which helped distract me. Eventually my mom came and had to carry me out of the woods. In the car ride home I clocked out again and felt like I was in a spaceship hurdling towards a brick wall so each second I braced myself for death (which at that point was nearly relieving as I was ready to commit suicide to stop the high which in my mind was never gonna end)
When I got home my mom helped me inside and i layed on the couch. she got me some water, after about an hour of me staring into nothing my body began to seize. No, I did not have a seizure as I was fully awake and conscious… My body literally began to violently shake uncontrollably and I just stared at my mother and begged her to make it stop, she said I can’t i’m sorry. I then spent 10 minutes pleading with her to end my life to stop the suffering I was in (The whole time I was in a state of pure fear and discomfort. I was helpless and the most vulnerable i’ve ever been. I have never truely wanted to end my life more)
After that I had worked myself up so much I just passed out and the rest is a blur. I’ve had to go therapy after that as it caused me to develop derealization at random times especially when being around weed smoke. Therapist said it’s most likely PTSD. Im obviously past it now (4-5 years later) but for a good year or two I couldn’t even touch weed. I know now that it was 100% not weed, but even to this day the most I will smoke is a couple hits off a joint.
edit: soon after this experience, I began abusing prescription meds like benzos to help me cope with the anxiety and also the fact that I couldn’t even be around weed anymore. Thankfully I haven’t touched that shit in years now though. Just goes to show how much this shit can fuck up ur life

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ mention of various forms of abuse including SA, mention of suicide in some detail, mention of death
PREFACE
I understand this is the internet and I cannot expect people to have grace or mercy on me for any of this. All I can do is ask that if you’re going to give me your input, that you try and be as kind as possible. My heart is hurting and I really don’t feel I am in a place to hear that I need to entirely -drop- this therapist right now. My background of abuse and trauma will hopefully explain why that is, but I am not ready to let go. I am mostly posting this to vent, but also hoping that if anyone does have any advice that could help me even just in the short term with coping, that it will be gently shared.
BACKGROUND
I will try and keep this as short and sweet as possible but there’s a whole lot of history here. I am 27F, and I grew up in an unimaginably abusive home. Sex trafficking, severe physical, sexual, and emotional abuse from my father and my older brother (very patriarchal family), and a slew of very complicated and scary health issues including a liver disease and cancer. My family set me up to never be able to move out or live independently because they genuinely have viewed me to be their property. The severity of this can hopefully be summed up in just a few example:
Was never allowed to even get myself a glass of water in the kitchen or learn to cook Was not potty trained and had to rely on my mom to go to the bathroom into my teenage years Drinking only from sippy cups until teenage years Location monitored on my phone Every credit card transaction / finance watched closely Could not move away from college
My brother was allowed and able to do all these things, but I was not. My entire life, teachers and “adults” that were supposed to catch these things did not even bat an eye. They instead placed me in remedial classes and ESL assuming that I just had a learning disability or a language barrier (which I do not). When I told teachers in the past about my abuse, it was handled extremely poorly and no authorities ever got involved. My life felt worthless; meaningless. Like I could scream from the rooftops of my school that I was being abused and no one cared.
This past January, I did the unthinkable. I left my family and got my own apartment. Friends, therapists, coworkers, everyone who remotely knew me has been pushing me to do this for years and I genuinely thought I would die in my situation. I developed severe Stockholm syndrome so a huge part of my lack of leaving was due to my own internal thought patterns. I did it through the help of my current therapist, which is my… fourth? therapist that’s attempted to help. The last ones took advantage of how naive I was and hurt me (one of them has been arrested). This therapist, however, invested everything to get me out. He really wanted to see me free. And I am forever grateful for him.
MY CURRENT THERAPIST & BACKSTORY
I started seeing this therapist early in 2022 when I was still living with my family. I became severely bedridden and could not even go to the bathroom without my mom or dad escorting me. My anxiety and panic were at an all time high. I was on a leave of absence from work, and this therapist was the only reason I had for HAVING to get out of bed and forcing myself to drive, and most days I couldn’t even do that. He was patient, compassionate, and was willing to go to great lengths to help. Though mostly irrelevant, he’s 45M. He got into school for counseling later in life so when I started seeing him, he was just an intern under the director of the practice. At the time, the director of the practice was seeing an old time friend of mine (who happened to recently become my coworker). My friend had gotten concerned about why I wasn’t showing up to work and why I was struggling so much. I didn’t want to open up to her about it because I couldn’t open up to anyone at the time. However, my friend asked the director of the place if she knew anything about me. The director broke into my therapist’s file under the guise of “he is my intern, I can look at his stuff” and then relayed all of that information to my friend. It became an entire case against the state board and I fought tooth and nail to get that director in trouble. In the end, nothing was done and in retaliation, the director fired my therapist and I had to wait until my therapist found a new job in order to see him (he was pre-graduation by just a few weeks so he couldn’t ethically talk to me until he had another practice). During the worst moments of my life, I was without my therapist (no fault of his, and he checked on me frequently), but it was really only for a few weeks. To me that was a lot since I had been going 2-3 times a week, sometimes 4 because of my situation.
THE CRYSTAL AND THE SAGE
My therapist had gone out of town briefly and came back with a crystal he got. He told me when he purchased it he knew he wanted to give it to someone. And he said that it made him think of me and he wants me to have it. He said he wants it to be a reminder that he cares and others care and that it represents my truth to hold close. Months later, he went on another trip and said he got sage that someone gave him that was super special and he wanted me to have it. He was very invested in making sure I felt like he cares and has my back. I was never into spirituality in the same way as him so I respectfully accepted his kindness but kind of scoffed at him. It became more of a joke.
HOW MY BROTHER AND MY THERAPIST STARTED TEXTING
The director of the previous practice had tried to harass me with a fake number, as well as to my therapist. She wanted to try and get us to drop the case, I guess? When I continued to get texts from fake numbers, my therapist asked me to give him the number that was blowing up my phone. It turns out, timing was absolutely terrible. My brother (who moved out of state) was the one who started harassing me. My parents/brother allowed me to go to therapy to “work on my panic attacks” but they began hating the fact that my therapist was helping me become independent. My brother was outraged and texted me anonymously to kill myself. Because I still thought at the time that it was the director of the place, I went ahead and shared the number with my therapist. And that’s how it all began.
THE VIDEO THREATS FROM MY THERAPIST
Things got out of hand over the months. My therapist felt extremely protective of me and a “savior complex” kicked in. The reasoning for this is worth noting / important. My therapist lost his sister to suicide when they were young, and he also lost his father shortly after. His sister apparently had also been assaulted and my therapist had mentioned to me before how he views me as a friend, someone to protect, like a sister. He admitted his struggle with transference and said his main and only concern was to get me to move out of my family’s house. To take a leap of faith. He was desperate to do that. He offered to help me get an apartment near him so he could help me out, he offered to babysit my dog for me (my golden retriever is my emotional support animal that my parents have used as a bargaining chip), he offered to see me in therapy 5 times a week if I just moved. I just wasn’t ready. But my brother would not relent.
My therapist still does not know that I know this, but my brother showed me some of the videos my therapist sent him. Three separate threatening videos. In them, my therapist was shirtless with a ski mask on saying he was part of the FBI and that if my brother didn’t behave himself, that he would have his people come after him. My brother said that I was threatening him and that if I didn’t get this man to stop, it would be trouble. My therapist got extremely activated and decided to take it as a challenge.
My therapist also at some points asked my brother “how to assault me” because he wanted to know what my brother did/wanted him to admit it. But if an outsider saw the texts, it would seem like my therapist was asking to participate in assaulting me. It looked HORRIBLY incriminating.
THE MOVE OUT
I got the courage one night. Drove my dog over to my therapist’s house and moved in with a friend while I apartment hunted. My therapist was incredibly proud of me and poured so much love and care into my dog. I truly felt hopeful and optimistic and I eventually applied for my own apartment and got approved. Because of severe Stockholm syndrome and lack of knowing how to do ANYTHING, I would end up visiting home (somehow, they allowed that and I did not die!)
THE ASSAULT
Long story short (I am not super comfortable going into this part), people from the temple I was sex trafficked in (linked with my family), showed up and assaulted me at gun point in a van. I told my therapist. He was extremely upset on my behalf and called the police. He told me it was essential that I get restraining orders and that I stop going over to my parents house even if I have Stockholm syndrome. He said he could no longer be patient on that because I was actively being attacked. I told him I was still too nervous to go no contact and I could tell he was frustrated with me.
WHEN MY THERAPIST SECRETLY SAT OUTSIDE MY APARTMENT
My brother / someone from the temple decided to start things up once he figured out the person he was texting earlier was in fact my therapist. He threatened my therapist and challenged him to meet up. My brother was bluffing but my therapist took it seriously. My therapist arranged to meet him outside my apartment at 9pm that night. I had a weird gut feeling so I texted my therapist that night and asked him not to do anything stupid, but I had no idea what he had up his sleeve. Without telling me, my therapist sat outside my apartment waiting for my brother (who never showed) to meet him. Why my therapist chose to meet him RIGHT OUTSIDE my new residence was extremely irresponsible.
I went to take my dog out to the bathroom that night and my friend and I were hanging out. She noticed a dark car with someone sitting and staring with a mask on. We walked closer and it was my therapist. I yelled at him because I was so worried he would’ve gotten shot or attacked and that he would get hurt as a result of trying to fight. My therapist apologized and was so embarrassed. He awkwardly said “you weren’t supposed to know about this…” and drove off full force. We hopped in my friends car and followed him to wherever he tried to run off to. He then promised me he would leave. About 20 mins later, my friend and I decide to go out to get food and we see him sitting in another part of my apartment complex still ready to fight. I was so upset that he lied to me multiple times and that he was risking his life. What would’ve happened if he got attacked? But my therapist apologized again and said “I just need to look him in the eye” implying he was ready to kill.
THE DREAMS ABOUT MY THERAPIST’S LATE SISTER
As my therapist had told me, his sister had passed away from suicide when they were young. He admitted to have transference in a way where he viewed me in a sisterly way. For a while, I continually had dreams about his sister and it was very weird. I told him I don’t believe in a lot of things like crystals or burning sage but that these dreams felt incredibly vivid. In the dreams, her sister was assuring me that my therapist was sent in my life to be the brother I couldn’t have. That he was sent to me as a brother, and I to him as a sister.
THE HOSPITAL
Just within the span of days after he showed up to my apartment, I was hospitalized due to complications with my liver, and I reached out to my family for help. My therapist was upset with me for interacting with my family at all. My therapist even visited me in the hospital and said that I don’t need to call my family for help and that I have him and my other friends who will have my back. After I was discharged from the hospital, I asked my therapist if I could take my dog back for at least a weekend (he took my dog in while I went to the hospital in order to help me. He said he would hang onto him while I recovered and caught up on rest). So when he gave me my dog for the weekend, out of guilt, I took my dog with me to visit my family. I just felt the need to run back. My dad manipulated me a lot about missing my dog so I felt obligated.
MY THERAPIST’S FRUSTRATION
I admitted to my therapist that I had taken my dog to my parents for the weekend (after I already gave him my dog back). My therapist was so upset about it. He had put so much love and time into my dog and helping me, and then I took him back to the hands of my abusers. This is when him pulling back began. He felt like he was doing all of this extraneous stuff for me and I was just taking steps back.
THE SUICIDE METHOD
As he got over his frustration a little bit, I became very suicidal to the point where I purchased a rope and planned it out. I made him the beneficiary of my bank accounts as a thank you to him for everything. He told me he would do what he could to help me. He said I could bring my dog back to him if I just need a life break. He didn’t know I had the rope but he knew I was thinking suicide. When I went back to drop my dog off, I admitted I had a rope. I gave it to him. He realized I was genuinely going to kill myself and was so grateful I told him the truth. He told me he would be there for me to help me through it. Showed me grace and compassion and everything.
THE MAJOR PULLBACK
No warning. No indication. My therapist immediately pulled back. Hard. He told me to call him later that week (I usually have therapy 3x a week but he was out of town), and so I did as he said and called him to update him. He immediately flipped out. “Ugh, I cannot be in anything extra to your therapy space. I am going through things on my own and I need to pull back. I can’t take calls any hour of the day anymore. I can’t take your dog. You don’t even listen to me anyway. You do what you want and go to your parents. So, I don’t know what to say. I am committed to you as your therapist but that’s it. If you feel suicidal outside of that, go to a hospital and get sedated.” I was absolutely crushed and felt so awful and guilty like I did something wrong. I didn’t want to bother him. I didn’t want to lose him. He made me feel loved and cared for (platonically, as a brother) and I felt so safe with him. Until this moment. He was very hung up on the fact that I kept going home to my family despite his efforts.
After calming down he explained how he feels like he needs to step back because his emotions shouldn’t affect my therapy and that he’s doing it to help me. But it felt very selfish. He over exerted himself by showing up to my apartment and sending threatening videos when I never asked for it, all because HE wanted to. And now he pulls back because HE wants to. None of his decisions were based on what I would feel, but what would best serve him.
THE RELAPSE AND THE DREAMS
Because my therapist stepped back so hard, I relapsed and said “screw it” / went back to my parents. I still had my apartment but I backslid majorly.
During this time I was so distraught. This therapist made me feel supported. And no, I didn’t attach onto him in an unhealthy way where he became my only hope. But he did feel like the brother I wished I had, and he felt like such a deep and important part of my life and I was devastated.
I started having dreams again about his sister and I cried. I felt like I was given this gift and then it was taken away.
THE BACK AND FORTH
My therapist began telling me that he thinks I should have additional support in this season especially while he “takes a break from extraneous stuff” with me. He said when he was younger and going through things, he had two therapists.
A week later I told him I found a second therapist and he said: “ummm I don’t know. I feel protective over that. Maybe don’t get a second one. Find a support group but I don’t want you seeing another one.”
I stood my ground and said I might still find one and he said “well then make sure the other one is a woman and is closely in touch with me.”
It felt very wishy washy and he did a lot of similar things like this for a while.
But when I listened to him and decided against a second therapist, he pulled back again. He said he wouldn’t take any more texts or calls outside of session once again and made me feel like an obsessed freak when I wasn’t even really doing much at all. Or asking for anything.
VISITING MY THERAPIST’S LATE SISTER’S GRAVE
My therapist is a famous author and singesong writer. Online, it’s very easy to find his sister’s name and I did some digging and found out where her grave is located. I was feeling really awful, like I was grieving the loss myself which is so incredibly psychotic. I know. But it more so felt like I was grieving the loss of this brotherly love I once felt from my therapist. But it’s been a couple months at this point and he still refuses to take texts or calls, and is very argumentative and angry in sessions. And I just wanted to take some flowers to the grave in private, not tell him, and just accept that he can’t be what I needed him to be for me.
MY FAMILY FINDS OUT
When I went to the cemetery, the place was huge. So I had to go into the office and ask for the location of his sister’s grave. They gave me a piece of paper with her name and grave location on it and I eventually just threw it in my wallet. My dad stumbled upon my wallet while I was at home one of the days and noticed the last name and asked me if I was still seeing my therapist. They don’t like him for obvious reasons. But I admitted to my parents that I do still see my therapist and that he’s more like family than they’d ever be. They abused me. But I stood in my truth. At the end of the day I will not deny that my therapist DID help me immensely and if that means I have to be abused for the truth, I’ll do it.
MY THERAPIST INSISTS ON INFORMATION
He knew that I was hiding something. I told him my family was abusive again but I didn’t say why. He spent an entire session saying he needs to know what happened. I said no multiple times and that I didn’t want to talk about it. He used language like “you have to tell me before you leave my office” and “if you care so much about me you’ll tell me.” He even told me he was going to take my hand and promise me that he won’t react. He held it and looked me in the eye and promised he’d meet me with compassion. I refused. He then asked me if I’ve been lying to him. Deceptive. It broke me and I felt like it was just such an insult. But I stayed strong and he apologized for bothering me about it.
Last week comes around and it feels like such a hindrance. He’s continuing to be short with me and not answer my texts, not taking emergency calls, and just… is continuing to be cold. I even texted him that I was genuinely feeling suicidal and he told me he can’t help me outside of session. Period.
So then after my latest session, I told him I’d text him what happened because I was too uncomfortable to say it. I told him I visited his sister’s grave, about the dreams, everything. I said I felt really hurt at his pullback and how it felt selfish.
He responded by gaslighting me endlessly and it absolutely crushed me furthermore. He responded as follows:
“Ok crystals and dreams? I don’t believe in them. I don’t believe that was my sister. I don’t know how I feel about you visiting her grave. I am not your brother and I can’t be your brother. And yes it was a nice gesture I guess but clearly you are focusing on the wrong thing. Let’s not talk about the weeds and the details. Let’s focus on you.” And completely shut down any further conversation about it.
In the past I have insisted and begged him to process him showing up at my apartment with me because I am still shaken up. He just always says “I never should’ve gotten involved like that but we are NOT going to talk about this ever again” and has always refused to hear how I felt about it.
He went back on vacation this past weekend and refused to take my call when I needed help, refused to text me, or anything. I called off work two days in a row because I was so devastated at his anger toward me and the gaslighting. It felt so unfair. I wanted to talk to him over the weekend because I was genuinely so hurt and felt like I truly lost him. He didn’t care.
WHERE TO GO FROM HERE?
I had an appointment in person tonight. First in person one since I told him about everything. I am embarrassed and feel so guilty that I visited his sister’s grave behind his back. It makes me feel psychotic. But at least I was honest and didn’t wait until I got caught / did not gaslight him.
I have a major surgery tomorrow and he won’t help me with my dog. I’ve gone back to my parents for now until I am recovered.
I want to tell him how hurt I am but I have tried that. He never understands. I miss him. As a brother.
I ended up going to session and he asked me why I feel off in therapy. He literally said “other than me slightly having to pull back right now what have I really done?”
I don’t know if I ever can get him to see my side or my pain in this.
FINAL THOUGHTS / MISC
I was seeing him three times a week and one day he randomly cancelled my third session, and every week after “something came up” that day and he just kept canceling. Eventually he just exploded and said “I DO NOT work that third day anymore.” Without giving me any explanation or time to adjust or heads up. Like he clearly needed a break.
I was in the hospital just now for my surgery and I wanted so badly to reach out to him for support. I couldn’t. My heart hurts knowing that I once had this brotherly love in my life that I had lost.
Even now in session he uses the analogy of “if you were my sister” or “if you were my wife” after knowing I am clearly struggling with accepting he has pulled back. He used to say I am his friend over and over and now he just acts so cold. I know he’s trying to maintain boundaries. I know. But too late. He screwed with my emotions SO much.
I have horrible, horrible OCD and my brain keeps trying to do stupid things to fix this. I also keep asking myself over and over:
1. Will he ever take my dog back if I really needed him to? (obviously I can find other pet sitters but my brain is so hung up on —— if I asked him in an emergency situation, would he refuse?)
2. Will he ever stop ignoring my texts? I’ve reached out to him about being suicidal. About being in a state of panic. Previously, he would call me and stay on the phone with me while I got through an attack. I AM NOT EXPECTING THIS. I do not expect him to be available on demand. But his SUDDEN extreme pull back makes me think that I was the one that did something wrong.
3.Does this mean he emotionally does not care about me and my situation anymore? Did he just turn his emotions off? Did he ever even care? He would make me send him a text every day listing three things I am grateful for as a means to check in. He would also randomly send me quotes from books he was reading that he thought I could relate to. All facilitated by him. All of this has randomly stopped and it makes me feel like he hates me. Is it at all possible that this is a reflection of him not caring?
4.Is his pullback a temporary extreme and will he readjust and go back to being there for me? Or is this a permanent shift, likely? Can I expect things to even out or go back to him investing care and time? Again I KNOW the focus is on me having to do that for myself. I know I CAN move on from this if needed but I really, really began to love him (PLATONICALLY like family) and having him around. It breaks me so much. It was so important to me to have him.
I have been taking major time off of work and from seeing friend or leaving my house. I have completely self isolated. Refused medical treatment against doctor’s advice. Risked my job by calling off so much. Taking a leave of absence. Become bedridden. I know it sounds like I’ve become obsessed with fixing this situation and that seems psychotic and sad. But given my history with everything I have been through, this therapist had given me hope to feel like someone had my back. Losing him feels like a major major loss that’s soul crushing. Yes I have other people and no he cannot be my focus. But this is how I feel and I cannot help it. I do not want to be shamed for it. It just freaking hurts.
Again I know the majority of people will want to come at my therapist or me for doing wrong things. I know it doesn’t seem like this, but he really isn’t intentionally manipulative or gaslight-y, he’s just trying to regulate himself.
I have grace for him. And for myself. So please, please try and respond with compassion. I don’t want to lose him. But I feel like I kind of am.
What are your overall thoughts, in the most gentle way possible? Was I wrong for telling him the truth about the grave?

Here's an anecdote. I'm not sure how useful it would be for all of you.
I planted some tomatoes with a row of mustard leaves in front, intending to harvest the mustard before the tomatoes got big. I was running an experiment where I was giving urine to some of the tomatoes, a high phosphorus potassium fertilizer to some, both to others, and nothing to a single control plant.
The mustards planted in front of the urine only tomatoes Got eaten down to nothing by these little white c***s. The ones in front of the urine and phosphorus/potassium fertilizer got hit but there was still some left for me. The ones in front of the phosphorus / potassium only tomatoes are still growing. My harvested what I wanted to eat and left the others to flowesee how long they would survive. Spider mites are getting after them now but the cabbage moths will barely touch them.
And the near future, I plan on doing another experiment with brassicas similar to this unintentional experiment. See if it was just a fluke or if there's something there.

So basically, a week ago my girlfriend (18f) (18m) of four months broke up me (for reasons that are not up to me). I didn't contact her since then, and I really want to see if she's okay. I want to get back with her at some point if she wants that as well because I still love her (she said she loves me too last time we spoke) and I think she's worth the waiting, but I'm not really sure what to do. I saw a lot about something called "no contact" and all of them said the same thing "don't bother her for one, two, six months, she'll miss you and text you", but I think doing this shows more that I don't care about her that much, or that I moved on and don't want her anywhere near my future. Honestly, I not really sure what to do, I want to talk with her, but at the same time I don't know if I should, because I don't want to annoy her somehow, or make her upset and ruin my chances to try to get back with her. So, what to do? Should I text her? If so, what should I write her? 

This is the post where I explain more things in detail (idk if it's okay to post links, so here's the copy):
"So my girlfriend (18f) of 4 months broke up with me (18m) a couple of days ago (to make the story short, she needed more time to heal from the past relationship before getting into a relationship with me). I love her and she said she loves me too, but it would be better to break up because she's not feeling good in the relationship and can't give me the affection that I need (that's what she said the day that we broke up). I still love her and think about her and I wish to get back with her after a while when she heals (of course only if she wish this as well, if not I understand that and I respect her decision, can't force her to be in a relationship with me). I have some exams next month, so it's the perfect opportunity to leave her alone and give her the time she needs with herself. My question is: I'm doing the right choice here? (leaving her alone and waiting for her to heal for a bit before contacting her again to try and get back with her if she wants that too) Any advice or opinions would help.
Thanks in advance and sorry for making such a long post."

Hi there! So I'm 36 years old from Pennsylvania. I have always had a thing for much older men and don't even really know why exactly. Part of it might be that I've always been very mature for my age and tend to get along much better with people who are older than me. The idea of being in a committed long-term relationship with someone older just feels right and natural to me. I am somewhat of a traditional person and do want to be properly married at some point.
Like the title says, I am willing to relocate if I find a genuine connection with the right person, but I would strongly prefer to remain on this continent, so that means please only message me if you're in the United States or Canada.
I also don't want you to message me if you're into the whole dom/sub dynamic or daddy/daughter dynamic; I'm not interested in those dynamics at all. I'm just a traditional woman. I'm a very loving and affectionate person by nature and a strong believer in romantic love, and I just want to find my one-and-only who I can fall deeply in love with and devote myself to forever. I'm the type who sees human sexuality as a very deep and meaningful act of affection between two people who are in love, and I would rather make love than just have sex for the sake of sex. Looks aren't really important to me; I'm the type of person who bases romantic attraction on personality and chemistry more than anything else.
In the spring and summer, I regularly attend an all-ages family nudist camp that is near me. My mother raised me to be a social nudist, so I have been going there all my life. I'm not one of those nudists who is nude at home all the time; for me it's more of a social thing that I do at a family-oriented camp environment. I find the social cohesion in an environment like that creates friendships and bonds that are unlike any social dynamic that you would ever find in any other regular social situation. My own theory regarding this is that it triggers a dormant social-cohesion mechanism in the human psyche that we had way back in our early history when we were living in small communal tribes. Back then, it was probably more normal for people to be casually nude if they wanted to be during the warmer months because everybody knew everybody and nobody was a stranger, and I think that kind of thing would kind of solidify your bond with the tribe. That's just my theory anyways, but it makes a lot of sense because I'm friends with families at that camp and am much closer to them than I am with anybody outside of the camp.
But if you think that your lifestyle values align with mine, free to message me in chat, and we'll see what kind of chemistry we have! 😊

I’ve been relatively quiet about my diagnosis, only really divulging to friends and family but I figured this could be a good place to ask for advice. As of May 8th this year, I’m in remission after nearly a year and a half of dealing with diffuse large b-cell non-Hodgkin’s. Between several different types of chemo and car-t cell therapy, multiple picc line placements, false scan results that showed progressive activity (the mass was benign), I’m over the moon to start my life again. While I have a newfound appreciation for the little things and how beautiful life can be, I feel so lost.
How do you adjust back to normal life? I know I need time to recover and that I should be kind to myself, but everything feels foreign. How do you deal with the emotions? The moments of joy that somehow turn into apathy. I’ve always been a caring person but sometimes I have moments where it’s hard to sympathize as much as I want to. How do I accept the scars, discoloration, and bruising left on my body from countless procedures, much less the mental and emotional ones?
I was 25 when I was diagnosed, and I just turned 27. I should’ve finished my degree and had a job in my field, but instead that was delayed. While I’m excited to resume that, I’m almost bitter that I lost that time to illness. Bitterness won’t solve anything and I can’t control what has happened, but I can control some of what lies ahead. I’d like to take my power back and regain my sense of self. I know things will improve and that it takes time (I do plan on starting therapy as well), but I would greatly appreciate any advice you may have for me. Thank you all. <3

Adrian Wilson was the Head Security Chief of the Human Sector of the Hedron, and he had a problem.
Well, it was more that he had several smaller problems that led up to one massive problem. There had been a quarantine, a small rabies outbreak that nearly got the Canician Councilor killed, another outbreak that was directly related to a xeno not giving up their- he could never remember the word for it- lizard dog, and on top of that, someone was smuggling shit into the Hedron through his sector and the aforementioned quarantines only stymied his efforts into figuring out who was behind it all.
On top of that, he had several delinquents causing problems before and after the quarantine, someone had abducted one of the wolves brought into the sector's wilderness reserves, at least five gallons of maple syrup had been absconded with, and he was saddled with a rookie from another sector who needed to learn how Humans handled stressful situations as well as learn how to handle said Humans in the event of an incident.
Grrorram watched him whaling on a punching bag, each violent strike causing the Canician a new level of discomfort at the ferocity of the miniature human- not that he expressed such a thought out loud, considering the warnings he'd been given regarding the Human subspecies 'Dorf'.
Adrian was proud of his height, and having it remarked on in any manner he felt was insulting led to what many called, some smirking as if it were the funniest thing ever, 'his short temper triggering'. Grrorram didn't understand, but nonetheless he help quiet.
Adrian let loose a kick that could crack bone before taking a moment to catch his breath and center himself. Hair-trigger temper or not, he prided himself on keeping his cool at the best of times, and reserved his worst outbursts for the people who got on his nerves. He regarded Grrorram coolly, the Canician avoided eye contact, out of respect.
<"So, you're here to learn about Humans."> The lack of a snout, and the shoddy attempts at growls gave Adrian a heavy accent, Grrorram was fine with his translator, but his tail thumped with appreciation at the Human's attempt.
Grrorram let out a few growing sounds before his translator automatically translated. "The attempt is appreciated, please, do not trouble yourself." The words were more formal and polite than Grroram's own, not that he said anything insulting. Grrorram spoke again. "And yes, that is what I was assigned to do."
Grrorram had a minor speech impediment, he couldn't make the same sounds that a Human could, so he was reliant on the translator. After recent events, it had been decided that the Sectors would cooperate more, that meant species other than the norm working in in specific sectors, taking on duties that were equivalent elsewhere.
Though, assimilated Humans were the only ones allowed in the Vagraxi sector and were required to swear allegiance to the Vagraxi Empire, so nobody filled that spot quite yet, and the Gixx didn't really need regulation in that sense, since they shared the same hive mind.
Nonetheless, Grrorram was selected to fill in the spot in spite of his speech impediment for one simple reason: He liked Humans, and he thought Adrian was absolutely adorable. He knew better than to mention this, however, he was a professional after all. He had thought the role was a long shot, and was absolutely delighted to learn he was the only one who bothered to apply.
<"Here's the deal."> Adrian persisted, ignoring the translator and focusing on Grroram's actual words. <"We like it when people leave us the grrahragrah alone."> Grrorram blanched at the word used. He didn't have the heart to tell Adrian that it was an extremely foul expletive. Even worse than the Human word 'shizno' that he'd found on Human internet archives.
<"Just stay quiet and observe. No unnecessary chatter, no bothering the people. Understood?"> Grrorram simply gave a large, exaggerated nod, an indication of knowing body language in theory, but only just now getting the opportunity to try it out. Adrian sighed. <"Follow me.">
Grrorram followed the Dorf Human out of the security station. Sector biospheres are designed to mimic homeworld biospheres, including air content, plant life, animal life, and smaller subsections dedicated to culture. While Grrorram knew that Humans had a variety of cultures, similar to his own people's, he was amazed at how different they could be.
His people, a handful of thousands of years ago, had gotten together, realized that their myriad spiritualities were very similar, and homogenized it into one whole that effectively accepted every interpretation, ethnically, Grrorram was from a tribe that believed the only way to join one's ancestors was to live long and die honorably. This had led to a culture of expendability that meant his Tribe was endangered, but not everyone saw that as a particularly bad thing. Not like he did.
The Humans, by contrast, had a myriad of different cultures, informally segregated, but otherwise blending together at the seams in a way that confused and delighted him. He accidentally bumped into a Human, who when he looked and uttered an apology, bowed and he did the same before moving on. The interaction was surreal and exciting, the words spoken were completely different from Adrian's language.
Grrorram growled a question, "What Tribe is he from?"
"Japan." Adrian replied. "Don't piss them off, they have the power of God and anime on their side." The cryptic warning given, Grrorram merely nodded and followed after. There were many other kinds of Humans, but he noted with a pang of sorrow that there were few Dorfs. Was their Tribe endangered too? The thought troubled him.
It was as Adrian explained specific protocols for the human sector that all hell broke loose. Just because Humans generally managed to live together didn't mean they were united. Some Humans were part of an anti-xeno faction, and seeing a Canician walking around in their species' space wasn't going to fly.
The ballistics flew and hit Grrorram, though since he was build like an Earth bear, the projectiles, while they did sting, lacked the stopping power to really do anything to him. Nonetheless, Grrorram yelped from the pain and backed away from the irate Humans.
Adrian stepped in their way, his service pistol in hand and a ballistic shield deployed. "Drop your weapons!" He commanded.
"Stand aside, that fucking mongrel's breathing our air." One of them said.
"C'mon, we know you can't stand those damn xenos either. What's one mongrel gonna do that's worth dealing with their shit?" Another pointed out.
Adrian couldn't stand xenos, even so, he was the Head Security Chief. "He's not a mongrel to me." He said calmly. "Now, drop the weapons."
The Humans walked forward fearlessly, so Adrian fired. It was a concussive round, barely lethal, but still capable of rupturing eardrums, popping eyeballs, deflating lungs, and so on. He hit center mass, sending one of the Humans flying, the other four froze, Adrian gunned them down all the same.
"This is Adrian Wilson." He said, turning on his comm unit. "I've got five aggressors and one injured here, please respond..."
Once everything was said and done, and Grrorram was brought to a clinic to get the bullets pulled out and healed, the Canician couldn't help but be awed at Adrian's efforts to save him.
He growled out a thanks, then touched his damaged translator with a forlorn expression.
"Don't mention it." Adrian said. "They were right, I really can't stand your kind, but I'm a professional dammit, and I'm not letting some idiots kill you while I know better."
Grrorram nodded, he was hurt that Adrian didn't like Canicians, but all the same, he was grateful, and was certain that he would learn a lot from him. Even if it was all mostly self-serving lies...

Today is my birthday. I'm 37. And I have decided not only to end things but have figured out a way to do it that is relatively painless, per the research I've done. It will admittedly take a few days to work, but in the end, I will be gone. But I wanted to leave something behind, I suppose, something that maybe people could find later to discover why I did what I did. I didn't want to post it on Facebook because the last time I did something like that, I got the cops called on me, and I'm in no mood to have that happen again.
I have battled depression in one form or another for a long time. Definitely from my teenage years, but possibly even earlier. I only learned in the past few years why that was. It turns out I have Schizoaffective Disorder. For those who don't know, this diagnosis essentially combines the symptoms of schizophrenia and a mood disorder. In my case, that's Bipolar Type II. And it turns out my particular brand of depression is treatment resistant. I have tried everything that is available to me. Some treatments I can't access because I have no car nor do I have anyone who is willing to drive four hours round trip three times a week for something like ECT. But I have tried talk therapy, I've tried numerous medications, and I have been taking Spravato in the past few months. It seemed to do something for a while, but now, just like all other medications, it isn't working as effectively. I maybe have relief from my symptoms for a few hours, a day at most.
But as it happens, life has given me the opportunity to end things. It's summer in America and my air conditioning is not working. During my recent Spravato treatment, the nurses noted my blood pressure was lower than normal, lower than is considered 'healthy.' I feigned ignorance as to what it could be and, upon returning home, double-checked what I knew about the symptom of dehydration, and sure enough, not only is low blood pressure one of those symptoms, but so are other things that have been going on of late. I had previously researched dehydration as a potential method and it turns out that it is a relatively painless way to go that terminal patients use as a way of dying with dignity. Since I am already dehydrated to a degree, stopping drinking anything or eating should put me beyond the point of no return within a couple of days. I feel a sense of peace, knowing I will soon be free from this utterly insane, chaotic, and turbulent world.
Unlike some, I am not afraid of what comes after death, because I have bothered to research such things as near-death experiences, sticking primarily to those who study it from a scientific perspective rather than a religious one. The general finding is that, even with suicide attempts, these experiences see the individual feeling a sense of peace, acceptance, and love, and in no case was any 'journey to hell' reported. I don't particularly believe that any religion is true, therefore, because the vast majority of religions proclaim suicide is a one-way ticket to hell. But these people had the same experience as someone who suffered cardiac arrest or who crashed during surgery. Now, yes, it may just be the last gasps of a dying brain, but I've always agrees with the philosophy that our 'energy/spirit/soul/etc.' continues on long after our bodies are dead and forgotten. I don't particularly subscribe to any religion, but I believe there is a life after this one and, by all accounts, it is a life where one finds peace, love, acceptance, and can continue learning about themselves and the universe around them. Spending an eternity learning without needing to pay a dime sounds like quite the reward, IMO.
Now, I don't particularly care if this post gets removed. But I wanted to write up what I was feeling. But according to what I've read, dehydration is a simple, painless way to go. All it takes is supreme willpower and a firm belief that this is the only path, and now I have that.

Howdy everyone. Ive been trying to go to college via green to gold. I want to pursue the 4 year scholarship option but in all honestly, I’m not sure how to start. Ive asked near half of my units officers if they knew anything about it or how to start my packet and they’ve never had experience with it or know anyone who has. Anyone willing to share with me a basic rundown, tips, and tricks for this process? I need all the knowledge and experience I can get please! Thanks. Ive applied to my college of choice and I am working on recommendation letters
Ill take some chili cheese tots since yall were out of chili last week

Tldr: my sister woke up to a man standing over her. She has had similar experiences since elementary school. I believe something demonic is attached to her & would love advice on how to cleanse our house of these spirits.
When my sister was in 3rd grade, she bought a wand and spell book at her school’s scholastic book fair. Ever since bringing that thing home, we’ve felt spirits in our home. My mom broke the spell book in four pieces and threw the book & wand in a dumpster. That was in 2012 or 2013. Getting rid of it didn’t really do anything. Some things that have happened: I saw a chair scrapping back and forth on the floor two different times (my sister also saw this on a separate occasion), my mom started having bizarre dreams of stuff in three (e.g., three lizards running throughout the interior & exterior of the house, covering each room of the house), our dogs would go crazy barking at closets, chairs, main hallway, etc. My twin sister has seen white hands hovering over me and pointing down at me (what does this mean??), my oldest sister saw a big beam of blue light shoot through her room, etc, etc. There’s always been an eerie feeling as well. Our house feels so dark and gloomy. Things even felt evil for a bit. Ofc there were also the random doors opening/closing, lights turning off/on, cups moving on the table, and footsteps. My boyfriend and I even clearly heard “STOP” and “mmhmm” during different instances from the same voice.
Anywaaays, my sister is 26 now. About once a year, she’ll wake up in the middle of the night to an apparition near her. The first time she saw our great uncle the night after he passed. She was nine and didn’t even know he had died.
Last night, she woke up to a man standing over her bed. She sat up and screamed. My older sister ran to her room and turned her light on. For those 15 or so seconds, my sister sat up & was screaming at this apparition.
We are Christians & don’t know what to do. We don’t do sage or catholic priests. We don’t know how to get these spirits to leave. I feel as though demons are attached to my sister. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

OK, so I've been trying to find this snippet. Basically someone exposed Rebecca Costa-Brown, through a car bomb, as Alexandria, the Triumvirate followed in support and she kind of kept her position as Chief Director of the PRT and Taylor was more or less a tinker rebelling against the system while also taking donations.
Tattletale convinced her to joined the Undersiders near the end after being tracked down by Armsmaster.
I don't remember where I last saw it was either in SV or QQ? Can somebody point me in the right direction?

These are general questions, as to why certain things were/are standard practice. The "why" is really bothering me. Why are things this way? Why weren't they what they are now? Where are the role models? I know that any answers won't be specific to the psych referral I'm waiting for. (Change of insurance, moved to another state.)

When I was 13 the school talked my parents into a psych eval. The psychologist said that I was more depressed than an adult but that's normal for a teen. 18, a counselor at the college I went to acted like she was out of her depth but other than recommending ECT she did nothing. Military at age 20, the psychiatrist said I needed a big sister and said therapy.
22, out of the military, I was finally diagnosed with bipolar disorder. That the psychiatrist was certain kicked in prior to age 13.
So why did the psychologist at age 13 act like there was nothing wrong?
22, the psychiatrist started me on an antidepressant. Most don't work on me, one did but had bad side effects, one did but wasn't perfect. I've since learned that I was prescribed the wrong stuff, I should have been on an antipsychotic from day 1.
So why wasn't I put on one right away?
Now that I'm nearly 50, I'm looking to my future. There doesn't seem to be a lot of people middle-age that have been on treatment for 25-30 years. There doesn't seem to be anyone that's been on treatment 40-50 years, people that can tell me what it's like when I hit 70 with nearly 50 years of treatment.
So where are they hiding?
It seems my past is riddled with missed chances and there's no guide for my future.