O'neill-hayes funeral home newport ri
my newport academy experience. VERY long but important
2023.03.29 08:48 fermentedyouth my newport academy experience. VERY long but important
All of this is how i remember it but i have memory loss/distorted memory after attending newport. This WILL be VERY LONG. I was admitted to newport academy in san Rafael, California. Its their location known as maoli. I was admitted on march 2 2022 and it was my first and only experience in a residential but i have 3 other (at that time) stays at mental hospital back in illinois (where i live).
I was admitted in the beginning of january of 2022 to a mental hospital and it was my 3rd time in the hospital so my counselor recommended residential. I didn't agree but then later on changed my mind. I was supposed to go to one in the area but was denied because i "set fires" (i do not and never have). My mom found newport by just googling residentials. I dont know how it came about because she set it all up but i had a interview at the end of january with them. I was accepted (i dont know if thats the right way to put it) except they didn't have an available bed. I was in php for a month and a half waiting to go in which i met a gorl that had just gotten back from a newport in a different state and she said she liked it so i had hope (she has now relapsed on nic and weed. I know because we are in touch). They assigned me to a location and changed it twice. With each time they changed the location i had to do another interview. When a bed was available i was given 24 hours to arrive or my spot would be given up.
I got there and did the paper work. I believe i chose the option that they could intervene which ever they felt suitable which i greatly regret. When i arrived there was 4 other girls. The house holds 6. I later found out that there was only 2 girls in the house for 2 weeks so i do not understand why there was no bed available. The other 2 girls arrived a day or 2 before me.
It wasn't horrible in the beginning but there was already a few things that bothered me. It was one specific lady in the beginning. She'd wake us up by blasting music and i didn't eat meat at the time so i asked her not to serve me meat which she didn't listen to. I have anger issues so the more she didn't listen the more mean about it i got to the point i was swearing her out. The people that were there with us all day were not trained for mental health. One being through a temp company. At somepoint i pushed down the toaster button with nothing in it and forgot about it in which the smoke alarms went off. No fire. Just burnt the crumbs. Remember this. Its important later. Ill use letters instead of whole names. My roommate was j. I talk in my sleep and obviously cant control it. She stopped sleeping in our room and slept on the couch which nome of the other people liked because thats where we hung out because we weren't allowed to be im eachothers room. She went to sleep around nine and wed stay up till 1-2 even tho lights out was 11. J told the staff i threatened her while i was sleeping and the staff yelled at me but the other people heard and defended me. Staff didn't apologize. We switched rooms because j was scared of me. Another time i needed a knife for cream cheese and as a joke i said i needed a really sharp one. J took it as i was going to use it on her. The other people took to throwing j's things out of the window. We weren't ever supervised. We had equine therapy and at somepoint i believe we tried to steal the barn cat. We figured out how to take the batteries out of the windows alarms, the pictures on the wall were canvas so we hid things behind them, we would cook our own food twice(?) A week so we were in the kitchen that was typically locked and stole bags of chocolate chips, sugar for tea, and food labels that we put all over the house, z1 (theres 2 zs) was level one so she was allowed to have an electric razor which we gave n an undercut with, we stole command strips from the therapy room to gang up our canvases, people took the staples out of the canvases, broke plastic and took the screws out of the vents to sh. We also used the screws and pen ink for stick and pokes, we had acupuncture and stole the needles to try to do piercings (not stiff enough. Thankfull gor that in the long run) we were actively refusing school on the daily. We would swear eachother and staff out (mostly staff) z2 had an eatting disorder and z1 would make comments about it. N would constantly get misgendered and dead named because he was trans (i would get deadnamed but i used all pronouns at the time). The teacher talked about how he would smoke weed and hed disrespect our boundaries. Our fitness instructor quite literally taught me how to punch someone correctly (swing with hips hit with knuckles 😋) one of our ccs, annie (i believe they were called ccs aka care coordinators) was always talking about her boyfriend. Our therapist was really good at reading us but was never in because she had a new born but the one time we met in person she told me i probably had a loose vagina 😐. Someone wiped there shit on the wall. N, z1, and a constantly made tea and theyd leave their sticky cups all around the house which meant we had no cups available ever. We had a group setion with a counselor over zoom in which she specifically asked me very personal questions (i believe it was about me getting raped but i dont remember too much) Theres probably more but ill move on.
The most tramuatic experience was my last day there which was march 16th. Only 2 weeks in. I was watching a youtube video on the tv and our fitness lady came in. I asked to finish the video and she responded by grabbing my wrist with one hand and prying the remote with the other. Obviously i was mad so i was yelling and cursing and she didn't like that because she was on some shit that she automatically deserved respect even for her bad actions because she was ex military. No one wanted to do fitness in the first place. I went to my room and closed the door. Kim, a cc, came and tried to reprimand me when i wanted to be alone. Shed leave and come back a few times in the span of a few minutes and id reclose the door. I put the bed infront of the door and she shoved the bed on my foot (which sprained my toe and now its deformed) and the hinge to the door fell out. She then blaimed me for destroying property and then i literally just slid it back in place. At this point they evacuated the other kids because they were saying i was a danger to myself, others, and destroying property but the real reason was because the other kids were arguing and defending me. I put my shoes on and grabbed my stuffed animal and just left. I made it probably half a mile down the street and the cops pulled up. I dont know if the cops were called before or after i left. They pulled the car infront of me and annie was behind me so i had left and right. Left was a fast pace road and right was a field with a with a hill on the other side. At this point i wasnt actively suicidal but i was in the beginning of a panic attack. (This is where it starts to get distorted) I made it halfway up the hill when i had officers pulling my ankles to get me to the ground. They said something about how i should get off the hill because of ticks and i told them i didn't care because i didnt want to live. (Not that i wanted to kms. Just that i didn't want to live) at this point i was crying and was in a full panic attack and this is when they got aggressive. I believe i had about 7 officers on me and dragging me down the hill and obviously i was fighting it cause im freaking out and no one wants to be in that situation. They got me to the bottom and hand cuffed me. They gave me the option to stand up and go to the car but i was basically paralized with fear and couldn't really talk. Cops treat the mentally ill like criminals. They carried me to the car and basically horizontally shoved me im the car but the whole time they were talking about ticks and seemed to care more about that then the fact they were hurting me. I was driven to a hospital and i dont remember in between details but somehow i made it from the field to an isolation room. The 2 cops that took me, like 2 nurses and 2 security guards came at me with a needle. Obviously i don't want to be drugged so im struggling. Im cuffed still so im trying to defend myself by biting. I never land a bite. im more or less just snapping at them. They leave, take the cuffs off and im screaming and banging on the glass because im in a paniced state, locked in a room, and dont know where im at. There is a single matress on the floor amd i take the sheets off and try to strangle myself. They come and stop me and take them. I then try again with the string of my mask and now they are saying im just doing it for attention/trying to get them to open the door. They come drug me again and take the mask. There was a water bottle on the floor do i poured the water on the floor and pushed it under the door (idk why tbh). I got very weak from 2 rounds of medication and gave up. I wasnt concious but could feel the coldness of the room on me. I was very cold. I woke up in a different room after being unconscious for about 16 hours and my mom was there. She took me home. They wanted to admit me to the mental unit there but somehow luck was on my side and they didnt. I was coverted in brusies and cuts for weeks after from the cops and the meds they gave me led to my dissociations to become extreme. Remember the toaster? Yeah they said i tried to burn the house down. They also accused me of threatening people and destroying property.
December of 2022 a contacted me on snapchat. I told her my snap while there and out of no where one day she remembered it. We talked about what happened after i left. The staff had told the kids that my mother lost custody of me and i basically belonged to the government now and that i was to stay in a mental facility till further notice and that i was physcotic. Even though it wasnt true it is against hippa. A told me that she had exchanged personal numbers with staff. She told me that z1 stole the teachers phone so everytime they went in and out of the building they were to be metal detected (the school was a seperate building of the house). She told me that kids continued to sh and z1 and her almost got in a fight because z1 was supply people with things to sh. A also told me that the girl i was replaced with they caught her masterbating multiple times. We had yoga pillows we took from the gym and i domt know what they hid in them but they hid something and after the phone incident they did really deep searches and found the things in them.
Honestly newport was wild and didn't even feel real. There was literally wild peacocks roaming the property. I have ptsd from all of it but mostly the cops. I get flash backs, cant get near a cop and cant get handcuffed without panicing (i used wear them for fun time wink wink. Now i cant). I dissociate horribly now. My memories dont feel like my own unless they were tramatic. I became addicted to sex and began using it as a form of sh like i did previously. I got addicted to weed and nic to cope. Ive since got over both but i wasnt sober at all from may 2022 to january 2023. Fuck you newport.
submitted by fermentedyouth to troubledteens [link] [comments]
I was admitted in the beginning of january of 2022 to a mental hospital and it was my 3rd time in the hospital so my counselor recommended residential. I didn't agree but then later on changed my mind. I was supposed to go to one in the area but was denied because i "set fires" (i do not and never have). My mom found newport by just googling residentials. I dont know how it came about because she set it all up but i had a interview at the end of january with them. I was accepted (i dont know if thats the right way to put it) except they didn't have an available bed. I was in php for a month and a half waiting to go in which i met a gorl that had just gotten back from a newport in a different state and she said she liked it so i had hope (she has now relapsed on nic and weed. I know because we are in touch). They assigned me to a location and changed it twice. With each time they changed the location i had to do another interview. When a bed was available i was given 24 hours to arrive or my spot would be given up.
I got there and did the paper work. I believe i chose the option that they could intervene which ever they felt suitable which i greatly regret. When i arrived there was 4 other girls. The house holds 6. I later found out that there was only 2 girls in the house for 2 weeks so i do not understand why there was no bed available. The other 2 girls arrived a day or 2 before me.
It wasn't horrible in the beginning but there was already a few things that bothered me. It was one specific lady in the beginning. She'd wake us up by blasting music and i didn't eat meat at the time so i asked her not to serve me meat which she didn't listen to. I have anger issues so the more she didn't listen the more mean about it i got to the point i was swearing her out. The people that were there with us all day were not trained for mental health. One being through a temp company. At somepoint i pushed down the toaster button with nothing in it and forgot about it in which the smoke alarms went off. No fire. Just burnt the crumbs. Remember this. Its important later. Ill use letters instead of whole names. My roommate was j. I talk in my sleep and obviously cant control it. She stopped sleeping in our room and slept on the couch which nome of the other people liked because thats where we hung out because we weren't allowed to be im eachothers room. She went to sleep around nine and wed stay up till 1-2 even tho lights out was 11. J told the staff i threatened her while i was sleeping and the staff yelled at me but the other people heard and defended me. Staff didn't apologize. We switched rooms because j was scared of me. Another time i needed a knife for cream cheese and as a joke i said i needed a really sharp one. J took it as i was going to use it on her. The other people took to throwing j's things out of the window. We weren't ever supervised. We had equine therapy and at somepoint i believe we tried to steal the barn cat. We figured out how to take the batteries out of the windows alarms, the pictures on the wall were canvas so we hid things behind them, we would cook our own food twice(?) A week so we were in the kitchen that was typically locked and stole bags of chocolate chips, sugar for tea, and food labels that we put all over the house, z1 (theres 2 zs) was level one so she was allowed to have an electric razor which we gave n an undercut with, we stole command strips from the therapy room to gang up our canvases, people took the staples out of the canvases, broke plastic and took the screws out of the vents to sh. We also used the screws and pen ink for stick and pokes, we had acupuncture and stole the needles to try to do piercings (not stiff enough. Thankfull gor that in the long run) we were actively refusing school on the daily. We would swear eachother and staff out (mostly staff) z2 had an eatting disorder and z1 would make comments about it. N would constantly get misgendered and dead named because he was trans (i would get deadnamed but i used all pronouns at the time). The teacher talked about how he would smoke weed and hed disrespect our boundaries. Our fitness instructor quite literally taught me how to punch someone correctly (swing with hips hit with knuckles 😋) one of our ccs, annie (i believe they were called ccs aka care coordinators) was always talking about her boyfriend. Our therapist was really good at reading us but was never in because she had a new born but the one time we met in person she told me i probably had a loose vagina 😐. Someone wiped there shit on the wall. N, z1, and a constantly made tea and theyd leave their sticky cups all around the house which meant we had no cups available ever. We had a group setion with a counselor over zoom in which she specifically asked me very personal questions (i believe it was about me getting raped but i dont remember too much) Theres probably more but ill move on.
The most tramuatic experience was my last day there which was march 16th. Only 2 weeks in. I was watching a youtube video on the tv and our fitness lady came in. I asked to finish the video and she responded by grabbing my wrist with one hand and prying the remote with the other. Obviously i was mad so i was yelling and cursing and she didn't like that because she was on some shit that she automatically deserved respect even for her bad actions because she was ex military. No one wanted to do fitness in the first place. I went to my room and closed the door. Kim, a cc, came and tried to reprimand me when i wanted to be alone. Shed leave and come back a few times in the span of a few minutes and id reclose the door. I put the bed infront of the door and she shoved the bed on my foot (which sprained my toe and now its deformed) and the hinge to the door fell out. She then blaimed me for destroying property and then i literally just slid it back in place. At this point they evacuated the other kids because they were saying i was a danger to myself, others, and destroying property but the real reason was because the other kids were arguing and defending me. I put my shoes on and grabbed my stuffed animal and just left. I made it probably half a mile down the street and the cops pulled up. I dont know if the cops were called before or after i left. They pulled the car infront of me and annie was behind me so i had left and right. Left was a fast pace road and right was a field with a with a hill on the other side. At this point i wasnt actively suicidal but i was in the beginning of a panic attack. (This is where it starts to get distorted) I made it halfway up the hill when i had officers pulling my ankles to get me to the ground. They said something about how i should get off the hill because of ticks and i told them i didn't care because i didnt want to live. (Not that i wanted to kms. Just that i didn't want to live) at this point i was crying and was in a full panic attack and this is when they got aggressive. I believe i had about 7 officers on me and dragging me down the hill and obviously i was fighting it cause im freaking out and no one wants to be in that situation. They got me to the bottom and hand cuffed me. They gave me the option to stand up and go to the car but i was basically paralized with fear and couldn't really talk. Cops treat the mentally ill like criminals. They carried me to the car and basically horizontally shoved me im the car but the whole time they were talking about ticks and seemed to care more about that then the fact they were hurting me. I was driven to a hospital and i dont remember in between details but somehow i made it from the field to an isolation room. The 2 cops that took me, like 2 nurses and 2 security guards came at me with a needle. Obviously i don't want to be drugged so im struggling. Im cuffed still so im trying to defend myself by biting. I never land a bite. im more or less just snapping at them. They leave, take the cuffs off and im screaming and banging on the glass because im in a paniced state, locked in a room, and dont know where im at. There is a single matress on the floor amd i take the sheets off and try to strangle myself. They come and stop me and take them. I then try again with the string of my mask and now they are saying im just doing it for attention/trying to get them to open the door. They come drug me again and take the mask. There was a water bottle on the floor do i poured the water on the floor and pushed it under the door (idk why tbh). I got very weak from 2 rounds of medication and gave up. I wasnt concious but could feel the coldness of the room on me. I was very cold. I woke up in a different room after being unconscious for about 16 hours and my mom was there. She took me home. They wanted to admit me to the mental unit there but somehow luck was on my side and they didnt. I was coverted in brusies and cuts for weeks after from the cops and the meds they gave me led to my dissociations to become extreme. Remember the toaster? Yeah they said i tried to burn the house down. They also accused me of threatening people and destroying property.
December of 2022 a contacted me on snapchat. I told her my snap while there and out of no where one day she remembered it. We talked about what happened after i left. The staff had told the kids that my mother lost custody of me and i basically belonged to the government now and that i was to stay in a mental facility till further notice and that i was physcotic. Even though it wasnt true it is against hippa. A told me that she had exchanged personal numbers with staff. She told me that z1 stole the teachers phone so everytime they went in and out of the building they were to be metal detected (the school was a seperate building of the house). She told me that kids continued to sh and z1 and her almost got in a fight because z1 was supply people with things to sh. A also told me that the girl i was replaced with they caught her masterbating multiple times. We had yoga pillows we took from the gym and i domt know what they hid in them but they hid something and after the phone incident they did really deep searches and found the things in them.
Honestly newport was wild and didn't even feel real. There was literally wild peacocks roaming the property. I have ptsd from all of it but mostly the cops. I get flash backs, cant get near a cop and cant get handcuffed without panicing (i used wear them for fun time wink wink. Now i cant). I dissociate horribly now. My memories dont feel like my own unless they were tramatic. I became addicted to sex and began using it as a form of sh like i did previously. I got addicted to weed and nic to cope. Ive since got over both but i wasnt sober at all from may 2022 to january 2023. Fuck you newport.
2023.03.29 08:45 Deno_Live New maps. My petition, part 1
Hi guys! Sorry for my English, this is an automatic translation. I have read many posts in this community. I read about the balance, about the offers of the players. Many people want to make changes to the game, but few offer their specific ideas. I decided to write a petition to the developers to bring all the problems into the game. Please support me and express your thoughts. This is the first part. I have a lot of ideas, and they won't fit in one message.
All the cards need to be redone, you need to add new places for chests, for the location of scraps of cards. The locations should be the same. For example, the Bluff Road Bridge location is very small, there is only one chest, one place for part of the map and almost no items. It surprises me that the survivors are so adept at jumping over windows and fences, but they can't step over a fallen tree. If the developers slightly change the old locations, add several buildings, places for chests, so that the survivors spend more time searching, this will immediately give the demon a bonus, and it will be more interesting for the survivors to play. Experienced players have studied the old maps, and they need to make changes for a change.
-ValueStop Supermarket (where Ash, Pablo and Kelly worked)
-Airstream trailer parking
- Kelly's parents' house (with grave and cross)
-Street and bookstore
- The Western Moose Diner (where Amanda tried to arrest Ash)
- Rancho Brujo
- Rebel camp
- The forest (where Kelly and Pablo hid from the rebels)
- Bunker (where Amanda and Ashley were sitting)
- The Cabin in the forest (The Knowby Cabin)
I know that Noble's hut and El Brujo's hut are already in the game, but I don't see anything strange in the fact that these locations are repeated. And these locations can be redone, for example, the Brujo Ranch in the series - it's not like the El Brujo hut in the game.
Map of Elk Grove. (Season 2)
- Trailer Park in Jacksonville
- Police station
- Hospital with morgue
- Stadium
- Elk Grove Street
- The local bar where Ash competed with his father on the bull.
- Ash's parents' house
- Sawmill (its advertisement flashed in the series)
- Sewer (where Ash and Ruby met)
- A hut in the forest
- Kenward County Asylum (in my opinion, it should consist of two or three locations like Kantara Castle)
Map of Elk Grove. (Season 3)
- Auction House (where Ruby comes for a book)
- Rubin's office
- Brock Williams Hardware Store
- Sperm Bank
- High school (in my opinion, it should consist of two or three locations like Kantara Castle)
- Church and funeral home.
- Ambulance station
- Coffee shop (was in the dark world)
- Ash's parents' house
- Prevett mansion
- The Knights of Sumeria Headquarters
- Military base
submitted by Deno_Live to EvilDeadTheGame [link] [comments]
- We need to redo the existing maps. I and many experienced players know the existing maps by heart. I know the location of the chests where the scraps of cards are stored. I know where the final battle will take place and where the Ancients are. I know where you can find a lot of items, and where looting is useless.
All the cards need to be redone, you need to add new places for chests, for the location of scraps of cards. The locations should be the same. For example, the Bluff Road Bridge location is very small, there is only one chest, one place for part of the map and almost no items. It surprises me that the survivors are so adept at jumping over windows and fences, but they can't step over a fallen tree. If the developers slightly change the old locations, add several buildings, places for chests, so that the survivors spend more time searching, this will immediately give the demon a bonus, and it will be more interesting for the survivors to play. Experienced players have studied the old maps, and they need to make changes for a change.
- We need new maps. A lot of people talk about Elk Grove, but we don't have a map of Michigan (season 1 of the series). I see the following places in it:
-ValueStop Supermarket (where Ash, Pablo and Kelly worked)
-Airstream trailer parking
- Kelly's parents' house (with grave and cross)
-Street and bookstore
- The Western Moose Diner (where Amanda tried to arrest Ash)
- Rancho Brujo
- Rebel camp
- The forest (where Kelly and Pablo hid from the rebels)
- Bunker (where Amanda and Ashley were sitting)
- The Cabin in the forest (The Knowby Cabin)
I know that Noble's hut and El Brujo's hut are already in the game, but I don't see anything strange in the fact that these locations are repeated. And these locations can be redone, for example, the Brujo Ranch in the series - it's not like the El Brujo hut in the game.
Map of Elk Grove. (Season 2)
- Trailer Park in Jacksonville
- Police station
- Hospital with morgue
- Stadium
- Elk Grove Street
- The local bar where Ash competed with his father on the bull.
- Ash's parents' house
- Sawmill (its advertisement flashed in the series)
- Sewer (where Ash and Ruby met)
- A hut in the forest
- Kenward County Asylum (in my opinion, it should consist of two or three locations like Kantara Castle)
Map of Elk Grove. (Season 3)
- Auction House (where Ruby comes for a book)
- Rubin's office
- Brock Williams Hardware Store
- Sperm Bank
- High school (in my opinion, it should consist of two or three locations like Kantara Castle)
- Church and funeral home.
- Ambulance station
- Coffee shop (was in the dark world)
- Ash's parents' house
- Prevett mansion
- The Knights of Sumeria Headquarters
- Military base
2023.03.29 08:26 Revolutionary-Pass41 What does "steal the script" and "lose right" mean in this context?
 | submitted by Revolutionary-Pass41 to EnglishLearning [link] [comments] https://preview.redd.it/osit1mqbgmqa1.jpg?width=864&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1f10587aa57effcf90f3fb42f74162705bf3d1bd
|
2023.03.29 08:11 Mindless_Macaron_798 Relationship advice
Relationship Advice Please
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
submitted by Mindless_Macaron_798 to AdviceForTeens [link] [comments]
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
2023.03.29 08:10 Mindless_Macaron_798 Advice please
Relationship Advice Please
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
submitted by Mindless_Macaron_798 to dating_advice [link] [comments]
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
2023.03.29 08:09 Mindless_Macaron_798 Relationship advice
Relationship Advice Please
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
submitted by Mindless_Macaron_798 to Advice [link] [comments]
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
2023.03.29 08:08 Mindless_Macaron_798 Relationship Advice Please
Hi. I (15F) have been dating a 15F who we will call “Dani” for almost two months. This relationship started off well, but over the past few weeks I’ve noticed it has become I guess “toxic”. She has these moments where she will feel like she isn’t good enough for me, and will tell me. I help her, then the next day, she will tell me “I was gonna break up with you but you stopped me”. It hurt. She will break up with me, unless I prove to her that I want her to date me. She will make me be on the edge of tears, and it is so mentally challenging. She makes me fight for her, for reasons I don’t know. And when we’re together all she talks about is her ex. That isn’t even the worst part. Last weekend, my grandfather passed away and I had to go across the country and will be there until the end of April to be there for my family. Dani was deverstated by the news, not about my grandfather, but about me. She wanted me to delay the flight so she could see me. She keeps complaining about me being away, she doesn’t care about my grandfather, and wants me to come home right now. She wants me to skip his funeral, which I’m not going to. She wants me to be with her 24/7 and threatens to break up with me if I don’t. She cries whenever I leave, and becomes suicidal. It is beyond mentally draining. I myself suffer from mental illness and experience suicidal thoughts and am in therapy. All this stuff is making my mental health worse but I don’t know what to do
submitted by Mindless_Macaron_798 to teenagers [link] [comments]
2023.03.29 06:49 Mountain-Ad-1195 This woman using food coloring at home. Itna unappetising lga rha h na🤢. Aisa color wala halwa toh mere ghar pe bahar bhi ni khaye koi. Use kesar🫣Market walon ki tarah zeher kha rahe h. Saffola ki jagah olive oil use karlo kyuki paison ki kami toh nhi h. Ptani khudse kyu dushmani nikal ri h yeh
 | submitted by Mountain-Ad-1195 to JanabMadamIbrahim [link] [comments] |
2023.03.29 06:48 Undertakersrus I’m a mortician in training AMA
I (19F) am currently training to be a mortician. I work at a funeral home and am a part of all its operations. Ask me anything, if I’m able to answer I will!
submitted by Undertakersrus to AMA [link] [comments]
2023.03.29 06:33 Viralology Home Theater 5K Budget
Hey all, so I am moving into a new home and it has a bonus room. I am investing into a home theater setup. I got a 77 inch LG C2 and am wanting some surround to pair with it. Looking at getting onkyo TX-RZ50 because I am looking for either a 7.1.4 or 5.1.4. Still trying to decide if I want to get the surround back, I have hear it really isn't worth it. As for the atmos speakers I really like Klipsch CDT-5800-C II In-ceiling speakers. So the budget is about 5-5.5k. I will be mainly watching movies and playing single player video games on a pc setup. I am just looking for the best bang for the buck setup, and do not know the best combination of speakers so I am takin any suggestions.
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2023.03.29 06:28 FindmeinyourAss Urgent Help Required
Hello Everyone
So, I'm in a lot of financial trouble right now. I lost my father a few days ago and had to sent money home for expenses of my family and other funeral related costs.
I have enough money left over to just barely cover rent and not much else. I need a job where I can work for longer hours and good pay.
To preface, I am an international student so I can work 20hrs/week on SIN and rest on Cash basis. Yes, I do know that's bad but I've never done it before and only doing it now because it's literally to Survive.
I can do anything security, moving, anything.
I am also in the process of finishing my bachelors degree in business and very well versed with computer systems and administrative tasks in which I have 2 years of experience but those jobs are hard to come by so I'll take anything to make some money.
Any help would be greatly, greatly appreciated.
✌🏻
submitted by FindmeinyourAss to VancouverJobs [link] [comments]
So, I'm in a lot of financial trouble right now. I lost my father a few days ago and had to sent money home for expenses of my family and other funeral related costs.
I have enough money left over to just barely cover rent and not much else. I need a job where I can work for longer hours and good pay.
To preface, I am an international student so I can work 20hrs/week on SIN and rest on Cash basis. Yes, I do know that's bad but I've never done it before and only doing it now because it's literally to Survive.
I can do anything security, moving, anything.
I am also in the process of finishing my bachelors degree in business and very well versed with computer systems and administrative tasks in which I have 2 years of experience but those jobs are hard to come by so I'll take anything to make some money.
Any help would be greatly, greatly appreciated.
✌🏻
2023.03.29 06:15 whitesound41 I called the funeral home looking for Myra.
Myra mains
submitted by whitesound41 to dadjokes [link] [comments]
2023.03.29 05:10 sweetsidedish Any idea what book this is?
I can't remember the details we'll because I never read the book to the end but it started off with a guy returning to his home town where something bad had happened causing him to hate a woman who worked in a libaray. His friend/brother died and she came to the funeral. He insulted her I think and she looked afraid. But someone was after her life if I remember correctly and he took her in (idk if it was his or her house) and he'd bring a woman to sleep with to annoy her or smth. Idk what happens after that. Any ideas?
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2023.03.29 05:00 Sushi_chan18 Weekly Manga Live Tracker: 29-03-2023 to 04-04-2023
This Table updates every 15 mins. You can save this post and come back later! ( ´ ▽ ` )Top Manga in last hour
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2023.03.29 04:44 Difficult_Drama_1767 AITA For saying I wanted to go back to church as long as it wasn’t a homophobic one?
So my older sister[30] was coming back home for her friend's funeral.Me[16] and our mom[60] were both going with her.The funeral was really beautiful and it just brought back some memories for me of when I was younger growing up going to Catholic school and going to church. After the funeral me and my mom were already in the car and my sister was outside finishing up a conversation with someone and I asked my mom if Sunday we could try this church by our house and said I don’t think it’s one of the homophobic ones my mom said sure that we could go next Sunday and my sister got in the car and asked what we were talking about.I told her and she asked why it would matter how the church feels about gay people I said I’d just rather go to a church that doesn’t believe it’s a sin and is just more accepting since I’m bi which they both know.My sister told me that I shouldn’t push my beliefs onto other people and that it is a sin and isn't natural and that you can’t be Catholic/Christian and be gay I started to try to defend what I was saying but then I just stopped because she just kept talking over me.I was trying hard not to cry because I didn’t want her to see and point it out but her saying all of that just hurt.I leaned my head against the car door while my mom started driving and ended up crying anyways no one noticed.My mom and sister kept talking though my mom agreeing with me and my sister still upset.I brought up the argument with my sister before she left to go home.I tried to tell her that everything she said hurt my feelings and explain what I had tried to say before but it just ended in another argument.She called me a snowflake and a crybaby and said that she shouldn't have to feel like she has to walk on eggshells around me.And I tried to tell her that she can believe whatever she wants but she doesn't have to tell me that.And that the whole argument was unnecessary she said what do you want me to lie to you or something?I'm not going to it's the truth and she never apologized.I don't understand how she just didn't get why I was upset. My sisters Pagan and bi too so i don't understand why she was bothered by what I said?It took me years before I came out to my family I knew how I felt since middle school but because of how I was raised I was really scared.Plenty of years of feeling like I was disgusting and that God didn't love me anymore and that I was going to go to hell which was terrifying.I remember praying a lot when I was younger that God would fix me and make me stop feeling like this and that I wanted to be normal like all my friends.This is something that has been really hard for me which she would know if we were close at all.
submitted by Difficult_Drama_1767 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
2023.03.29 04:43 friedcalamari3 Barbershop
Hi I just moved to RI (Newport) and am looking for barbershop that can do skin fade, and has online booking system in either on Aquidneck island or in west bay (I work in east Greenwich).
Any recommendation? Thanks!!
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Any recommendation? Thanks!!
2023.03.29 04:34 Longjumping-Stage270 And he fought cancer too!
 | submitted by Longjumping-Stage270 to UrbanRescueRanch [link] [comments] |
2023.03.29 04:33 glossyenthusiast What does this say?
 | submitted by glossyenthusiast to Handwriting [link] [comments] |
2023.03.29 04:09 NotPraisedNotABother Hope is a Heart-Killer
This story contains existential material some readers may find distressing. Please be advised.
—
Nine o'clock on the dot on a Sunday morning, James Newton put on his suit and tie—tweed and checkered yellow, the ones he wore to his parents' funeral—and spent fifteen minutes in front of the mirror psyching himself up. "Come on, James," he urged his reflection. "A miracle, that's what you need. Gimme a miracle, somethin' that'll make this whole thing go away!"
He told himself that, and he got excited for the good news he would surely receive, and he got ready to go out the door. Three times he did this, and right as his hand touched the knob, he suddenly found he had to go back for another go at it.
Eventually, though, there was only so much psyching up he could muster. He finally left his apartment, walked down many flights of stairs, and got on his way walking down the street to his appointment.
It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear of any clouds or smog, a rare thing indeed, and the sun was merrily shining. Birds chirped, though their song was somewhat obscured by the roar of passing aeromobiles as they zipped by in the skyways. Below, where roads were needed no longer, the people were out and about on the promenade in their Sunday best, going about their business and having a grand old time.
James fit right in, a smile plastered on his face and a nod for everyone he passed. He swung his arms easily and let his gait fall into a comfortable strut, and no one would suspect a thing was wrong; no sir, no one at all.
James' path took him right into the heart of the city, where buildings rose to two and even three stories tall, brick-built all of them, with a marble state building here and a library there, and the sky was filled with aeromobiles. Trees grew in their little holes in the center of the promenades, and small gardens and parks littered the places where parking lots used to be. A flock of pigeons pecked at the ground around the garbage bin for people's leftovers. James scattered some crumbs from his pocket that he'd prepared just for them. "Good will to all the world!" he said heartily to the flying rats. "Good will, or who knows what might happen? Ha ha!"
His destination was a private practice in the middle of a lot park, fenced in with a tree in each corner, ferns and vines imported from somewhere stretching from leafy branch to leafy branch. The building itself was brick, of course (God's chosen building material, that), and space enough for only one corridor and three rooms—a waiting room, the good doctor's office, and the operating room. Humility was all anyone needed these days, and by God the owner of this establishment was practically drowning in it.
James pushed through the glass door into the waiting room with gusto. "Morning, Caroline!" he greeted the secretary by her desk. "I'm here for my appointment!"
She smiled up at him. Caroline was a sweetheart to be sure. "Hello Mister Newton," she told him. "The doctor's in if you want to get to it. You know he doesn't have anyone else to see."
"That I do, miss, that I do." James unbuttoned his suit and went to hang it on the coatrack in the corner. "Don't mind if I leave my jacket here, do you, Miss Caroline?"
"Please do!"
"Thaaank you kindly." James cleared his throat. "I'll just be on my way back then!" He stepped back into the corridor and strode to the good doctor's office with a whistlin' tune and readjusting his tie. Good thoughts, James, he reminded himself. Good thoughts and good will only, and you're sure to get good news in return!
—
"I'm terribly sorry, Mister Newton." The good doctor's voice was tinny and cool as his steel exterior. "Your diagnosis has not changed. I predict you have six months to live, possibly less."
James couldn't look at him. He couldn't look anywhere 'cept the linoleum beneath his best brown dress shoes. The ones he wore to his parents' funeral.
He didn't know if he could speak. He tried anyway. "I thought—" He swallowed the frog in his throat. "I thought I was gettin' better."
The good doctor leaned forward across his desk, his metal hands folded in front of him. "Mister Newton, I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that your chances were good, even probable. The truth is that very few people with your diagnosis live long after symptoms begin to appear, and you are well on your way to showing symptoms. I believe you were told—"
"I remember," James said hoarsely. He chanced a look at the wall to his left, then had to look away again. It had a poster of a cat hanging to a branch that said, Hang in there! in a speech bubble. It didn't make him feel better.
He tried looking at the good doctor instead. That was a mistake as well; James couldn't help it, and he knew it weren't fair, but something about the doctor's unmoving expression and cold lamplit eyes gave him the chills something awful.
He looked back down at his shoes. "What can I— what can I expect?" His voice wobbled. "Is it gonna hurt? When the symptoms start showing up?"
"Oh, I imagine so," the good doctor replied. He stood and went to pull a projector screen from its holster in the ceiling, as wide as man's wingspan. The doctor touched something at the top, and graphs and timelines filled the screen. It was one of those special screens; the ones that didn't need light shining on them to show pictures.
"See here," the doctor said, pointing to one of the graphs. "Around this time, about a week from now I'd say if my projections hold, your throat will begin to constrict and lose some of its elasticity, making it harder to breath and swallow food and drink. It will only take a week more before you're completely unable to do either. I suggest seeking hospice before then, the medical professionals should be more than capable of providing equipment that can ease the burden on your body to perform these functions. During this time, however, you'll have these symptoms to start looking out for as well…"
The good doctor's voice blurred and became background noise. James clenched his hands tighter and tighter together between his knees as the robot droned on and on about the terrible, painful things he would endure before he finally died.
Good things, James, he thought to himself desperately. Good will and good news will come to you eventually. Good will and good news will…
But the good doctor just kept droning on.
—
The drink plunked down on the bar before him. "There you are, chum, your fifth Molly's Got It All of the night! You sure are looking to forget something fierce, aren't ya?"
James pushed up his head and looked at the robot serving drinks at an awkward angle. The bartender's voice was just as unnatural as the good doctor's; only, where the doctor was cool and neutral even with a scalpel in hand and a terminal diagnosis in his processor, the bartender was painfully, infinitely cheerful.
He took his drink and swallowed half of it. "Thanks barkeep," James slurred. "Y' really know how to take care of a guy." He sluggishly raised his glass in celebration, but the bartender had already moved on to the next customer, that tinny, unnatural cheer stabbing James' ears.
He shook his head and scoffed into his glass before he took another drink. Good news and good news and good news.
"Bartender's right," a voice to his left said. A human voice, teasing. "You really are lookin' to forget."
James listed that way and looked at the person up and down. The lady was dressed in oversized overalls, big black construction boots and a button-up beneath it all, flatcap pushing her unruly curls into submission. Construction worker chic. She had a smile on her face just shy of a smirk.
James looked for a moment more before grunting and turning back to his drink. "I got my diagnosis back today," he said, not caring who heard. "I'm on my way south."
"Aw, shoot," the woman said sympathetically. "Well that's too bad, I'm sorry to hear it."
"Yeah." James polished off the last half of his drink and raised his hand to get the bartender's attention. "Same thing that killed my daddy." And my mama, he added in his head, but she din't have the same disease. Naw, it was his daddy dying from it that killed her. She couldn't live without him.
"Nothing the doc can do?" the woman asked gently as the bartender came over.
"Naw." James ordered another Molly's Got It All. Dangerous, he knew, but he was already going to die, so he might as well splurge. No one to take care of at home, no one to take care of him, so he din't have to care.
"You be sure to drink some water now, friend," the barkeep said even as he made a new drink and set it before James. "You're deep in your cups now."
"Yeah, yeah." James waved the bartender away and sipped from his sixth Molly before realizing the woman was still looking at him. "What?" The question came out ruder than he meant.
Her eyes sparkled in the low-key bar light. "I find you interesting." Her smirk stretched into a smile of the same kind.
James flushed. He liked her attention, but… "Sorry," he said, looking into his cup. "I don't think you want to get mixed up with me. Dying and all."
"Oh, who said anything about anything?" the woman dismissed. She scooted her stool closer to James' and leaned her chin on her hands, looking at him with that smile of hers. "Annabelle," she introduced herself, "if you'd like to know. And if you'd want to return the favor…" she trailed off expectantly.
James flushed deeper and found himself smiling back. "Jem—" He cleared his throat and tried to focus his drunken brain. "I'm James." He thrust his hand towards her for a handshake without thinking about it and felt stupid.
Annabelle looked at his hand with raised eyebrows, then took his hand in hers and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Mister James," she said in a serious tone. It was the twinkle in her eyes what betrayed her. "Now why don't you tell me what's going on?"
—
They talked for hours after that. Well, James talked, mostly, but whenever he tried to direct a question at Annabelle she returned the prompt to him, asking a deeper, more thoughtful question than a heavily inebriated man could come up with, so of course he went along with her. They talked so late nearly everyone else had gone, but there were no closing hours courtesy of the barkeep, so there was no rush. James couldn't get anymore Mollys after a time, though, owing to the alcohol limit law programmed in the bartender's processor and all.
But he didn't care. He was enthralled with Annabelle and her thoughtful questions and her genuine interest in him. At least, she seemed genuine, but James was too drunk to tell. All he knew was that it felt nice to have someone to talk to, finally.
And he did talk a lot. He told Annabelle things he hadn't told anybody, alcohol loosening his lips. He talked about his mama and his daddy, his childhood home out in the boonies where they didn't have no aeromobiles or robot doctors, his friends growing up and the games they used to play. He talked about school, and neighbors, and hopes and dreams, and sorrows, too.
He told her about his parents' deaths. That wasn't the first or last time he'd cried that night. He told her about his daddy's affliction, the thing what put him in the grave, and the thing that would put him there too. "It was so hard, watchin' him those last few days," James said, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "He couldn't get out of bed, with all those tubes in him and what not, and he couldn't talk, obviously, and Mama couldn't stand it either even if she didn't say so, but the doctors said, they always said, 'It's our oath to help people, ma'am, if there's even a percent of a chance we can save them.'" He shook his head. "My mama used to say to that, she used to say," he gave a snort of amusement, "'doctors: they're gonna help you, even if it kills you.'"
Annabelle smiled at that and rubbed his back. She'd gotten real close to him over the night's conversation. So close James could feel her there even when he wasn't lookin'. It made him flush and blush and gave him the butterflies, the amount of attention she was giving him. Thoughts of his impending demise were banished by her wonderful smile.
He didn't want her to go away. He didn't want to think about death again. "Hey," he said hesitantly, wondering if his request was appropriate. "D'you think… well, do you think we could—"
Annabelle smiled wider and put a hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "Honey, I was thinking the exact same thing." She patted his hand. "Just let me freshen up in the ladies' room and we can get going, yeah?"
James' heart leapt into heaven. He agreed enthusiastically, and Annabelle slipped off her stool and went into the back to the ladies' restroom, leaving James by himself positively brimming with joy.
Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen. Then twenty.
James started to get anxious. He wanted to go and check on her, but, well, was that too much? The bartender asked him if he wanted to pay his bill, but James distractedly said he'd pay while he was heading out with Annabelle.
Thirty minutes passed. Forty.
"Y'know," he said aloud, mostly to himself as he got up from his seat, "I think I will check on her, y'know, in case something happened to her." He wouldn't go in, obviously, but he could always knock, right? So James went to the back of the bar and knocked on the door to the ladies' room. "Annabelle? You okay in there?"
There was no answer.
James' fear peaked. "Barkeep," he called, "can you check the ladies' room with your sensors? I think my friend might be hurt."
The metal man behind the bar looked up from the glass he was polishing. "I'm sorry, mate, I didn't want to say anything according to how much I saw you enjoying her company, but I'm pretty sure your lady friend up and booked it from my establishment almost an hour ago. My scanners are only picking up one body signature, and that's yours." Analytical words, all spoken with the stupid cheer of an empty-headed tin man.
Fear became disappointment. "You sure?" James asked, hoping against hope.
"Scanners don't lie!" the bartender replied.
Peachy. Just excellent. Good news and good news, James thought bitterly. Crestfallen, he slumped back to the bar and sighed, "Guess I'll pay my bill, then."
"Right-o!" The bartender whipped over to the cash register and waited for James to sullenly follow him there.
He reached into his suit pocket. Then his other one.
Where was his wallet?
"Something the matter?" the bartender pipped.
James couldn't handle the robot's overly happy voice right now. "Yes, just—give me a moment," he nearly growled, reaching inside his suit jacket to the pocket there.
Nothing. He patted his pants and the back of his pants. Nothing. James crouched low to look at the ground beneath his stool and nothing. "I—" He didn't know what to say. He'd had his wallet walking in. Had to; needed his worker card to get served. Where could it have—
By now the alcohol had worn off enough that James could mostly use his brain. He put two and two together and realized what had happened. "I'm sorry, but I think my wallet was stolen," he told the bartender, stricken. He hadn't noticed; but of course he hadn't noticed. He'd been drunk. Very drunk. And Annabelle had known that, if that was even her real name.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that!" Again, the unnatural cheer, especially considering his next words. "And I'm sorry to say that if you can't pay, I'll have to be calling the sheriffs!"
"What?" James stared at the bartender. "I can't just open a tab and pay it off later?"
"Sorry, no can do!" The robot was already moving towards the rotary phone on his side of the bar. "My processor isn't powerful enough to retain information longer or more complicated than my regulars' names and the laws I was programmed with, and I'm afraid I wasn't programmed to read or write! If you want to blame anyone, blame the Howie Blayton Manufacturing Company!"
Good news and good news and good news. James felt a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. Stranded in the local detainment center while his body collapsed in on itself? No way!
"Hey there officer!" the bartender said brightly into the transmitter. "I'd like to report a miscreant here at—hey, where are you going?"
The door was already closing behind James as he fled into the night.
—
He ran until he was sweating through his nice tweed suit and breathing so heavy he wheezed. He hadn't made it as far as he would have just weeks ago. It felt like his throat was caving in.
James looked around. He was standing on a little bridge that spanned a creek to a forest path, an overgrown jungle of a place. The grass was so long it hung from the lip of the creek bed to the still water below.
He was still in the heart of the city, but the roar of aeromobile traffic was far away. He must be at the edge of one of the city's massive replanting projects.
He sat down heavily on the bridge, letting his legs dangle. Good news, his mama always said. Good thoughts and good will, and good news will come to you. She said that while daddy was sick in bed and she sat by his side. She never left his side, really. James had had to work double shift at his delivery job just to keep things afloat, there.
And now he was soon to be right where his daddy was, and no one like his mama would be there for him.
James thought he had cried all he could cry that night, but tears began to form in his eyes and spill down his cheeks nonetheless. He put his face in his hands and let the sobs wrack his aching throat once again.
As he cried, a secret memory unearthed itself in James' mind. It was a memory from long ago, back when his daddy was dying, on one of the rare moments his mama left to go to her job and take care of things on her own instead of relying on James. James, like his mama, barely left his daddy's side when he could manage it.
And on that day, while his mama was far away, James watched as his daddy suddenly began to thrash and writhe, flinging the tubes in his mouth and his stomach and his private parts every which way, his eyes rolled back in his head. Little ten-year-old James didn't know whether his daddy was awake or half-comatose, but he knew he was scared, and he couldn't be scared. Scared weren't a good thought, and James needed to think good thoughts.
So he tried to calm his daddy by telling him how brave he was, how everything was gonna be alright and mama would be home any minute—but his father couldn't hear him.
"Shauna!" his daddy shouted, voice obscured by the tube jammed down his throat. "James! I can't see, Goddammit—Shauna! Shauna, where are you?!"
James was terrified. He reached to grab his daddy's hand before remembering that he couldn't touch him 'cause it would hurt him. "Daddy," James cried. "Daddy, it's alright, I'm here!"
"Shauna! Shauna!" Tears were rolling down Daddy's cheeks, his unseeing eyes staring terrified at the ceiling. "Shauna!" he sobbed. "Shauna, I'm scared! I'm scared!"
"No!" James shouted over his daddy. "No, you can't say that, daddy, good thoughts! Only good thoughts, you gotta—"
His father's thrashing grew more violent as he continued to be unable to hear his son. One of the tubes lashed James across the face, and he fell to the ground screaming. On the floor, James could only see the writhing blankets and the occasional flash of a hand, all while his daddy sobbed and screamed like a child having a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
Mama came home to find James sobbing on the floor and her husband dead under the covers.
A secret memory, and a secret fear. James remembered the terror on his daddy's face as he died. He remembered his father's blindness, his father's deafness, all caused by his disease. He remembered his father, unable to be touched, machines surrounding him, nothing anyone could do for him.
James remembered his daddy crying for his wife, unable to tell that his son was right next to him. Even with someone there, his daddy had died alone.
Alone. And there was nothing anyone could do.
James clutched at his hair and breathed through gritted teeth. He didn't want to die alone. He moaned in fear, his teeth chattered, he rocked himself back and forth on the edge of that little bridge. He didn't want to die alone.
But he would. Even if he wasn't, he would die alone, and all the good intentions and good thoughts in the world wouldn't save him. Everyone dies alone. No one can share in your last moments, even if they're right next to you. No one will know, even if they care so much for you they'd die without you. You're trapped in your head until the bitterest end.
James wailed and beat at his legs with his fists and screamed at the unfairness. He didn't want to die alone!
"I don't want to die alone!" he shouted into the night. The night did not respond.
He continued to sob and scream and wail, all alone.
submitted by NotPraisedNotABother to HFY [link] [comments]
This story contains existential material some readers may find distressing. Please be advised.
—
Nine o'clock on the dot on a Sunday morning, James Newton put on his suit and tie—tweed and checkered yellow, the ones he wore to his parents' funeral—and spent fifteen minutes in front of the mirror psyching himself up. "Come on, James," he urged his reflection. "A miracle, that's what you need. Gimme a miracle, somethin' that'll make this whole thing go away!"
He told himself that, and he got excited for the good news he would surely receive, and he got ready to go out the door. Three times he did this, and right as his hand touched the knob, he suddenly found he had to go back for another go at it.
Eventually, though, there was only so much psyching up he could muster. He finally left his apartment, walked down many flights of stairs, and got on his way walking down the street to his appointment.
It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear of any clouds or smog, a rare thing indeed, and the sun was merrily shining. Birds chirped, though their song was somewhat obscured by the roar of passing aeromobiles as they zipped by in the skyways. Below, where roads were needed no longer, the people were out and about on the promenade in their Sunday best, going about their business and having a grand old time.
James fit right in, a smile plastered on his face and a nod for everyone he passed. He swung his arms easily and let his gait fall into a comfortable strut, and no one would suspect a thing was wrong; no sir, no one at all.
James' path took him right into the heart of the city, where buildings rose to two and even three stories tall, brick-built all of them, with a marble state building here and a library there, and the sky was filled with aeromobiles. Trees grew in their little holes in the center of the promenades, and small gardens and parks littered the places where parking lots used to be. A flock of pigeons pecked at the ground around the garbage bin for people's leftovers. James scattered some crumbs from his pocket that he'd prepared just for them. "Good will to all the world!" he said heartily to the flying rats. "Good will, or who knows what might happen? Ha ha!"
His destination was a private practice in the middle of a lot park, fenced in with a tree in each corner, ferns and vines imported from somewhere stretching from leafy branch to leafy branch. The building itself was brick, of course (God's chosen building material, that), and space enough for only one corridor and three rooms—a waiting room, the good doctor's office, and the operating room. Humility was all anyone needed these days, and by God the owner of this establishment was practically drowning in it.
James pushed through the glass door into the waiting room with gusto. "Morning, Caroline!" he greeted the secretary by her desk. "I'm here for my appointment!"
She smiled up at him. Caroline was a sweetheart to be sure. "Hello Mister Newton," she told him. "The doctor's in if you want to get to it. You know he doesn't have anyone else to see."
"That I do, miss, that I do." James unbuttoned his suit and went to hang it on the coatrack in the corner. "Don't mind if I leave my jacket here, do you, Miss Caroline?"
"Please do!"
"Thaaank you kindly." James cleared his throat. "I'll just be on my way back then!" He stepped back into the corridor and strode to the good doctor's office with a whistlin' tune and readjusting his tie. Good thoughts, James, he reminded himself. Good thoughts and good will only, and you're sure to get good news in return!
—
"I'm terribly sorry, Mister Newton." The good doctor's voice was tinny and cool as his steel exterior. "Your diagnosis has not changed. I predict you have six months to live, possibly less."
James couldn't look at him. He couldn't look anywhere 'cept the linoleum beneath his best brown dress shoes. The ones he wore to his parents' funeral.
He didn't know if he could speak. He tried anyway. "I thought—" He swallowed the frog in his throat. "I thought I was gettin' better."
The good doctor leaned forward across his desk, his metal hands folded in front of him. "Mister Newton, I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that your chances were good, even probable. The truth is that very few people with your diagnosis live long after symptoms begin to appear, and you are well on your way to showing symptoms. I believe you were told—"
"I remember," James said hoarsely. He chanced a look at the wall to his left, then had to look away again. It had a poster of a cat hanging to a branch that said, Hang in there! in a speech bubble. It didn't make him feel better.
He tried looking at the good doctor instead. That was a mistake as well; James couldn't help it, and he knew it weren't fair, but something about the doctor's unmoving expression and cold lamplit eyes gave him the chills something awful.
He looked back down at his shoes. "What can I— what can I expect?" His voice wobbled. "Is it gonna hurt? When the symptoms start showing up?"
"Oh, I imagine so," the good doctor replied. He stood and went to pull a projector screen from its holster in the ceiling, as wide as man's wingspan. The doctor touched something at the top, and graphs and timelines filled the screen. It was one of those special screens; the ones that didn't need light shining on them to show pictures.
"See here," the doctor said, pointing to one of the graphs. "Around this time, about a week from now I'd say if my projections hold, your throat will begin to constrict and lose some of its elasticity, making it harder to breath and swallow food and drink. It will only take a week more before you're completely unable to do either. I suggest seeking hospice before then, the medical professionals should be more than capable of providing equipment that can ease the burden on your body to perform these functions. During this time, however, you'll have these symptoms to start looking out for as well…"
The good doctor's voice blurred and became background noise. James clenched his hands tighter and tighter together between his knees as the robot droned on and on about the terrible, painful things he would endure before he finally died.
Good things, James, he thought to himself desperately. Good will and good news will come to you eventually. Good will and good news will…
But the good doctor just kept droning on.
—
The drink plunked down on the bar before him. "There you are, chum, your fifth Molly's Got It All of the night! You sure are looking to forget something fierce, aren't ya?"
James pushed up his head and looked at the robot serving drinks at an awkward angle. The bartender's voice was just as unnatural as the good doctor's; only, where the doctor was cool and neutral even with a scalpel in hand and a terminal diagnosis in his processor, the bartender was painfully, infinitely cheerful.
He took his drink and swallowed half of it. "Thanks barkeep," James slurred. "Y' really know how to take care of a guy." He sluggishly raised his glass in celebration, but the bartender had already moved on to the next customer, that tinny, unnatural cheer stabbing James' ears.
He shook his head and scoffed into his glass before he took another drink. Good news and good news and good news.
"Bartender's right," a voice to his left said. A human voice, teasing. "You really are lookin' to forget."
James listed that way and looked at the person up and down. The lady was dressed in oversized overalls, big black construction boots and a button-up beneath it all, flatcap pushing her unruly curls into submission. Construction worker chic. She had a smile on her face just shy of a smirk.
James looked for a moment more before grunting and turning back to his drink. "I got my diagnosis back today," he said, not caring who heard. "I'm on my way south."
"Aw, shoot," the woman said sympathetically. "Well that's too bad, I'm sorry to hear it."
"Yeah." James polished off the last half of his drink and raised his hand to get the bartender's attention. "Same thing that killed my daddy." And my mama, he added in his head, but she din't have the same disease. Naw, it was his daddy dying from it that killed her. She couldn't live without him.
"Nothing the doc can do?" the woman asked gently as the bartender came over.
"Naw." James ordered another Molly's Got It All. Dangerous, he knew, but he was already going to die, so he might as well splurge. No one to take care of at home, no one to take care of him, so he din't have to care.
"You be sure to drink some water now, friend," the barkeep said even as he made a new drink and set it before James. "You're deep in your cups now."
"Yeah, yeah." James waved the bartender away and sipped from his sixth Molly before realizing the woman was still looking at him. "What?" The question came out ruder than he meant.
Her eyes sparkled in the low-key bar light. "I find you interesting." Her smirk stretched into a smile of the same kind.
James flushed. He liked her attention, but… "Sorry," he said, looking into his cup. "I don't think you want to get mixed up with me. Dying and all."
"Oh, who said anything about anything?" the woman dismissed. She scooted her stool closer to James' and leaned her chin on her hands, looking at him with that smile of hers. "Annabelle," she introduced herself, "if you'd like to know. And if you'd want to return the favor…" she trailed off expectantly.
James flushed deeper and found himself smiling back. "Jem—" He cleared his throat and tried to focus his drunken brain. "I'm James." He thrust his hand towards her for a handshake without thinking about it and felt stupid.
Annabelle looked at his hand with raised eyebrows, then took his hand in hers and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you, Mister James," she said in a serious tone. It was the twinkle in her eyes what betrayed her. "Now why don't you tell me what's going on?"
—
They talked for hours after that. Well, James talked, mostly, but whenever he tried to direct a question at Annabelle she returned the prompt to him, asking a deeper, more thoughtful question than a heavily inebriated man could come up with, so of course he went along with her. They talked so late nearly everyone else had gone, but there were no closing hours courtesy of the barkeep, so there was no rush. James couldn't get anymore Mollys after a time, though, owing to the alcohol limit law programmed in the bartender's processor and all.
But he didn't care. He was enthralled with Annabelle and her thoughtful questions and her genuine interest in him. At least, she seemed genuine, but James was too drunk to tell. All he knew was that it felt nice to have someone to talk to, finally.
And he did talk a lot. He told Annabelle things he hadn't told anybody, alcohol loosening his lips. He talked about his mama and his daddy, his childhood home out in the boonies where they didn't have no aeromobiles or robot doctors, his friends growing up and the games they used to play. He talked about school, and neighbors, and hopes and dreams, and sorrows, too.
He told her about his parents' deaths. That wasn't the first or last time he'd cried that night. He told her about his daddy's affliction, the thing what put him in the grave, and the thing that would put him there too. "It was so hard, watchin' him those last few days," James said, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. "He couldn't get out of bed, with all those tubes in him and what not, and he couldn't talk, obviously, and Mama couldn't stand it either even if she didn't say so, but the doctors said, they always said, 'It's our oath to help people, ma'am, if there's even a percent of a chance we can save them.'" He shook his head. "My mama used to say to that, she used to say," he gave a snort of amusement, "'doctors: they're gonna help you, even if it kills you.'"
Annabelle smiled at that and rubbed his back. She'd gotten real close to him over the night's conversation. So close James could feel her there even when he wasn't lookin'. It made him flush and blush and gave him the butterflies, the amount of attention she was giving him. Thoughts of his impending demise were banished by her wonderful smile.
He didn't want her to go away. He didn't want to think about death again. "Hey," he said hesitantly, wondering if his request was appropriate. "D'you think… well, do you think we could—"
Annabelle smiled wider and put a hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "Honey, I was thinking the exact same thing." She patted his hand. "Just let me freshen up in the ladies' room and we can get going, yeah?"
James' heart leapt into heaven. He agreed enthusiastically, and Annabelle slipped off her stool and went into the back to the ladies' restroom, leaving James by himself positively brimming with joy.
Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen. Then twenty.
James started to get anxious. He wanted to go and check on her, but, well, was that too much? The bartender asked him if he wanted to pay his bill, but James distractedly said he'd pay while he was heading out with Annabelle.
Thirty minutes passed. Forty.
"Y'know," he said aloud, mostly to himself as he got up from his seat, "I think I will check on her, y'know, in case something happened to her." He wouldn't go in, obviously, but he could always knock, right? So James went to the back of the bar and knocked on the door to the ladies' room. "Annabelle? You okay in there?"
There was no answer.
James' fear peaked. "Barkeep," he called, "can you check the ladies' room with your sensors? I think my friend might be hurt."
The metal man behind the bar looked up from the glass he was polishing. "I'm sorry, mate, I didn't want to say anything according to how much I saw you enjoying her company, but I'm pretty sure your lady friend up and booked it from my establishment almost an hour ago. My scanners are only picking up one body signature, and that's yours." Analytical words, all spoken with the stupid cheer of an empty-headed tin man.
Fear became disappointment. "You sure?" James asked, hoping against hope.
"Scanners don't lie!" the bartender replied.
Peachy. Just excellent. Good news and good news, James thought bitterly. Crestfallen, he slumped back to the bar and sighed, "Guess I'll pay my bill, then."
"Right-o!" The bartender whipped over to the cash register and waited for James to sullenly follow him there.
He reached into his suit pocket. Then his other one.
Where was his wallet?
"Something the matter?" the bartender pipped.
James couldn't handle the robot's overly happy voice right now. "Yes, just—give me a moment," he nearly growled, reaching inside his suit jacket to the pocket there.
Nothing. He patted his pants and the back of his pants. Nothing. James crouched low to look at the ground beneath his stool and nothing. "I—" He didn't know what to say. He'd had his wallet walking in. Had to; needed his worker card to get served. Where could it have—
By now the alcohol had worn off enough that James could mostly use his brain. He put two and two together and realized what had happened. "I'm sorry, but I think my wallet was stolen," he told the bartender, stricken. He hadn't noticed; but of course he hadn't noticed. He'd been drunk. Very drunk. And Annabelle had known that, if that was even her real name.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear that!" Again, the unnatural cheer, especially considering his next words. "And I'm sorry to say that if you can't pay, I'll have to be calling the sheriffs!"
"What?" James stared at the bartender. "I can't just open a tab and pay it off later?"
"Sorry, no can do!" The robot was already moving towards the rotary phone on his side of the bar. "My processor isn't powerful enough to retain information longer or more complicated than my regulars' names and the laws I was programmed with, and I'm afraid I wasn't programmed to read or write! If you want to blame anyone, blame the Howie Blayton Manufacturing Company!"
Good news and good news and good news. James felt a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. Stranded in the local detainment center while his body collapsed in on itself? No way!
"Hey there officer!" the bartender said brightly into the transmitter. "I'd like to report a miscreant here at—hey, where are you going?"
The door was already closing behind James as he fled into the night.
—
He ran until he was sweating through his nice tweed suit and breathing so heavy he wheezed. He hadn't made it as far as he would have just weeks ago. It felt like his throat was caving in.
James looked around. He was standing on a little bridge that spanned a creek to a forest path, an overgrown jungle of a place. The grass was so long it hung from the lip of the creek bed to the still water below.
He was still in the heart of the city, but the roar of aeromobile traffic was far away. He must be at the edge of one of the city's massive replanting projects.
He sat down heavily on the bridge, letting his legs dangle. Good news, his mama always said. Good thoughts and good will, and good news will come to you. She said that while daddy was sick in bed and she sat by his side. She never left his side, really. James had had to work double shift at his delivery job just to keep things afloat, there.
And now he was soon to be right where his daddy was, and no one like his mama would be there for him.
James thought he had cried all he could cry that night, but tears began to form in his eyes and spill down his cheeks nonetheless. He put his face in his hands and let the sobs wrack his aching throat once again.
As he cried, a secret memory unearthed itself in James' mind. It was a memory from long ago, back when his daddy was dying, on one of the rare moments his mama left to go to her job and take care of things on her own instead of relying on James. James, like his mama, barely left his daddy's side when he could manage it.
And on that day, while his mama was far away, James watched as his daddy suddenly began to thrash and writhe, flinging the tubes in his mouth and his stomach and his private parts every which way, his eyes rolled back in his head. Little ten-year-old James didn't know whether his daddy was awake or half-comatose, but he knew he was scared, and he couldn't be scared. Scared weren't a good thought, and James needed to think good thoughts.
So he tried to calm his daddy by telling him how brave he was, how everything was gonna be alright and mama would be home any minute—but his father couldn't hear him.
"Shauna!" his daddy shouted, voice obscured by the tube jammed down his throat. "James! I can't see, Goddammit—Shauna! Shauna, where are you?!"
James was terrified. He reached to grab his daddy's hand before remembering that he couldn't touch him 'cause it would hurt him. "Daddy," James cried. "Daddy, it's alright, I'm here!"
"Shauna! Shauna!" Tears were rolling down Daddy's cheeks, his unseeing eyes staring terrified at the ceiling. "Shauna!" he sobbed. "Shauna, I'm scared! I'm scared!"
"No!" James shouted over his daddy. "No, you can't say that, daddy, good thoughts! Only good thoughts, you gotta—"
His father's thrashing grew more violent as he continued to be unable to hear his son. One of the tubes lashed James across the face, and he fell to the ground screaming. On the floor, James could only see the writhing blankets and the occasional flash of a hand, all while his daddy sobbed and screamed like a child having a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.
Mama came home to find James sobbing on the floor and her husband dead under the covers.
A secret memory, and a secret fear. James remembered the terror on his daddy's face as he died. He remembered his father's blindness, his father's deafness, all caused by his disease. He remembered his father, unable to be touched, machines surrounding him, nothing anyone could do for him.
James remembered his daddy crying for his wife, unable to tell that his son was right next to him. Even with someone there, his daddy had died alone.
Alone. And there was nothing anyone could do.
James clutched at his hair and breathed through gritted teeth. He didn't want to die alone. He moaned in fear, his teeth chattered, he rocked himself back and forth on the edge of that little bridge. He didn't want to die alone.
But he would. Even if he wasn't, he would die alone, and all the good intentions and good thoughts in the world wouldn't save him. Everyone dies alone. No one can share in your last moments, even if they're right next to you. No one will know, even if they care so much for you they'd die without you. You're trapped in your head until the bitterest end.
James wailed and beat at his legs with his fists and screamed at the unfairness. He didn't want to die alone!
"I don't want to die alone!" he shouted into the night. The night did not respond.
He continued to sob and scream and wail, all alone.
2023.03.29 03:59 queuwu My grandma and disbandment
Recently, my grandma died. I wasn’t paying attention in my coding class as everyone does, got a text from my dad to call him after class.
He tells me my grandma died. I knew it was coming based on what updates I was getting about her in the past weeks but it just makes me sad my mom now lost both her parents. My mom and sister flew to the home country to prepare for the funeral. I was asked to come home early from uni to say bye to them at the airport, but I had work and I kind of need the money. I did see them off from our house.
I’ve had mixed feelings because the announcement of her death overlapped my band finally disbanding and having a final meal together. My band and bandmates are extremely important to me as I struggle finding people I actually care about ever since I entered uni. I’m grieving the loss of a grandparent and the loss of people I finally felt a connection to. We are still friends but not being able to continue the band breaks my heart so much I cried for two weeks about it and couldn’t focus in class. I’ve never felt so attached to a group of people and I am quite lonely at school as well. I am a female engineering student so I personally find it hard making other girl friends who share my experiences. Honestly just wish I had more girl friends. My bandmates are all older than me so I’m still gonna be in school while they pursue jobs/careers. One already graduated 4 years ago. We will be in different locations.
While yes, we can talk online, I have enough long distance friends as it is. I’m extremely lonely in real life since everyone has to keep moving. I meet up with good friends literally once a year. This just adds to the list of friends I’ll see on a very rare occasion.
Back to my grandma, since I’ll also be alone at school, I’ll be a bit lonely at home too since my mom and sister are going to be in a whole different country for a month to grieve.
I’m just dealing with a lot and I can’t stop this feeling of anxiety in my heart that makes me want to vomit all the time. I usually never cry, but I’ve cried everyday the past month. I feel as if I’ve become too emotional to keep doing my studies and I cannot study or focus on homework. Coding is awful, I feel more drawn to music because of my two years with my bandmates, but I can’t take a break. The way my classes are structured will have students fall behind if you miss a day. Catching up even if given accommodations is going to make it harder. I might as well finish my degree.
To distract myself, I took up learning a new instrument. Everything just feels so blank, I’m like a walking brick.
submitted by queuwu to GriefSupport [link] [comments]
He tells me my grandma died. I knew it was coming based on what updates I was getting about her in the past weeks but it just makes me sad my mom now lost both her parents. My mom and sister flew to the home country to prepare for the funeral. I was asked to come home early from uni to say bye to them at the airport, but I had work and I kind of need the money. I did see them off from our house.
I’ve had mixed feelings because the announcement of her death overlapped my band finally disbanding and having a final meal together. My band and bandmates are extremely important to me as I struggle finding people I actually care about ever since I entered uni. I’m grieving the loss of a grandparent and the loss of people I finally felt a connection to. We are still friends but not being able to continue the band breaks my heart so much I cried for two weeks about it and couldn’t focus in class. I’ve never felt so attached to a group of people and I am quite lonely at school as well. I am a female engineering student so I personally find it hard making other girl friends who share my experiences. Honestly just wish I had more girl friends. My bandmates are all older than me so I’m still gonna be in school while they pursue jobs/careers. One already graduated 4 years ago. We will be in different locations.
While yes, we can talk online, I have enough long distance friends as it is. I’m extremely lonely in real life since everyone has to keep moving. I meet up with good friends literally once a year. This just adds to the list of friends I’ll see on a very rare occasion.
Back to my grandma, since I’ll also be alone at school, I’ll be a bit lonely at home too since my mom and sister are going to be in a whole different country for a month to grieve.
I’m just dealing with a lot and I can’t stop this feeling of anxiety in my heart that makes me want to vomit all the time. I usually never cry, but I’ve cried everyday the past month. I feel as if I’ve become too emotional to keep doing my studies and I cannot study or focus on homework. Coding is awful, I feel more drawn to music because of my two years with my bandmates, but I can’t take a break. The way my classes are structured will have students fall behind if you miss a day. Catching up even if given accommodations is going to make it harder. I might as well finish my degree.
To distract myself, I took up learning a new instrument. Everything just feels so blank, I’m like a walking brick.
2023.03.29 03:54 xsadfairy483x My Hometown will be the Death of Me
I genuinely think I might die if I don't leave my hometown. I think it's slowly trying to kill me. So many bad things have happened. I genuinely feel like I'm cursed at this point. I was thinking about it yesterday, would it be better if I just left? My life is filled with so much pain that it's hard to do anything else but just my job. I go to work, come back home, eat, fall asleep; repeat. I think what scares me, is that the thought of killing myself is becoming more of a thought out plan. I've thought about doing everything I could to make it so the funeral process is easy for my family. Give my Grandparents my car. Write out letters to the most important people in my life, even if they aren't in it currently. Just so they know that I'll always love them, even if we had a falling out. I'd want to make sure my parents wouldn't think it's their fault. I don't know. I feel like I'm dying already.
submitted by xsadfairy483x to SuicideWatch [link] [comments]
2023.03.29 03:52 Murky-Road WDC and WCC with Aston Martin in second year
Ok, I think I'm finally done with this game. If I can win with AMR in 2023, not too much left to do
submitted by Murky-Road to F1Manager [link] [comments]