Carnival cruise rooms with bunk beds

My parents are planning a summer holiday for them and me [16F], they’ve found a good location and hotel, the only issue is that we’d have to share a room (they would ask the hotel to set up a camp bed or smth in their room for me). I have done this plenty of times before in the past; however, I am starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable about the situation and I would appreciate having my own space.
I told my parents that I wasn’t entirely happy about the situation as I’ll be almost 17 then and even when I was 13 I wasn’t keen on sharing a room. I said that I would be fine with skipping a holiday this year or perhaps going closer to home or staying with family if finances are an issue. My mother said I was being awkward and my father said that he would share rooms with his friends when he was my age and that I was being hypocritical as I often share rooms with my friends; however, I feel like that is different.
Writing this out I’m starting to realise that I’m acting spoilt and I’m pretty sure I’m in the wrong here but I would like to hear other opinions or suggestions about this.

Hey everyone, I’m sorry if I’m overacting or something, I don’t even know what I want to hear.. I’m struggling with depression and anxiety, I’m in therapy and it’s been 2 months since I’m on antidepressant, I also take benzodiazepines and antipsychotics. I don’t feel like it’s working, I know it takes time but the things is my mum and my sisters are so supportive and they always try to help me. I know that I’m so lucky to have supportive relatives and there are so many people that are alone in this… I live with my mum and her boyfriend, I don’t really leave my room, she always comes here and tries to make me do something with her, she always asks me something, always asks me what she can do for me. Ask me to at least go watch a movie with her so I’m not alone. And I always tell her that I just want to be alone, that I don’t want to do anything and send her away. She comes to my room many times a day to check on me and I’m annoyed of it. I feel so ungrateful and mean. I know she has the best intentions but I don’t even wanna talk to her. I just don’t wanna talk to anyone, I don’t wanna explain my self, I don’t want anything just everyone to leave me alone. I don’t think she gets how I’m feeling. I feel so bad. She does everything for me. I’m embarrassed of myself, I’m just laying in bed all day. I’m sorry for long text, I don’t even know what I want to hear

So recently I became a Foster parent to an adult cat, He's very skittish And shy i've had him for about a month now, He's better as he doesn't hiss as often and is o k with being touched as long as he doesn't feel cornered. He's not a very aggressive cat super timid. He may hiss if he feels cornered but he has never attacked or tried to attack anyone
the problem :
So usually he would spend all his days under my bed and only come out past 9 PM once the sun had long gone down, he would roam around, meow and what not which was fine although I thought it was dangerous as, my bed is a A little shaky and not super sturdy and every time I lay in bed they go to sleep. I know he'll be under there by morning, so i'm always so worried about anything collapsing or hurting him. So yesterday I bought under bed blockers and blocked off the other side of my bed, Thus today he had spent the entirety of the day hiding in the living room Behind the couch or on the window sill. And won't really come out and because he hasn't come out. He hasn't eaten all day or has gone to the restroom at all. And i'm a little worried about him Even though it's only been a day.

Part 1
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to think even.
Emily knows my biological mom?
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I asked.
Emily’s smile was as thin as ice. “I didn’t think you were ready. Now you are.”
“Ready for what?”
“You’ll know soon enough. Sleep tight, Skye. You have to go to school tomorrow.”
I couldn’t sleep. All I saw, in my nightmares and painted on the ceiling, was Alfie’s face. He whispered my name while I dreamed and wriggled into my happiest memories. I woke up screaming as his body twisted and swelled.
We will meet again. Alfie hissed through a series of clicks.
It was too quiet when I woke up the next morning. I was used to Emily yelling for me to wake up for school or my dad rushing to get dressed for work and brushing his teeth or the smell of burned bacon and pancakes and eggs down from the kitchen. Or at the very least Alfie ringing my ears off to tell me he was waiting too long outside.
But the silence whispered through the halls, sneaking into my room and tickling my heart. I rubbed my eyes and sat with my knees tucked against my chest, watching the sun rise. The sky was lit in gold as the darkness slithered away, but it was as if dawn had never arrived at all.
I got dressed and headed downstairs. At that point I realised exactly why the house was so quiet and my heart stopped cold.
Most of the stuff we owned was packed up into boxes; and anything that was too big was covered by translucent tarps. Emily and my dad were huddled together in the kitchen. They looked so lost, so hollow, like they’d just come back from Alfie’s funeral and had not stopped crying since.
“Hey morning,” I said tersely.
“Morning,” Emily said. She still wasn’t looking at me. “Did you sleep well or do you still look like a panda bear?”
“Ha ha.” I made myself some coffee. It tasted like muddy water.
Emily looked at the clock. “You better hurry up or you’ll be late for school, Sleepy Skye.”
“But—” The night before was still spinning in my mind. Questions bubbled to the back of my throat, dying on my lips.
Emily placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, Skye. I’ll explain more later when the time is right.”
School felt like forever. All of my classes passed in a blur. Everyone avoided me like the plague, and whispered behind their hands when I walked past. I didn’t really care. I rested my head on my hands and wished Alfie was here. Whispering that everything would be okay.
Creak
When the last bell rang I plodded through the halls. The chatter around me had blended into a monotonous stream of nothing. I looked around me and saw Alfie’s face around me, in the couples making out near the lockers, in the teenagers huddled together like penguins.
My heart ached again.
Alfie…
My dad’s van was waiting for me at the school entrance, coughing up smoke like an old, retired dragon. It was jammed full of boxes and things wrapped in bubble paper. I was surprised it could even move a centimetre without something breaking inside.
“Hop in Skye,” said my dad, poking his head out of one window.
“Um, where are we going?”
“To my old place,” Emily explained, poking her head out of the other window. “I—we—thought it would be good for you, for…for the both of us.”
“After…after…y’know.”
Alfie died.
The wind was still once more, as if mourning over him in its deep grief too. I crumbled against the side of the van, letting hot tears stream down my cheeks.
Alfie…
Without a word more I climbed into the van and my dad sped off immediately. I gazed outside the window, watching country roads blend into billboards and highways, and let the van rock me into a soothing sleep.
“We’re here. Wake up, Sleepy Skye.”
Emily’s house, as it turned out, was a two-storey monster tucked away from the heart of the city. The paint was peeling away and the bricks underneath were slick with slime. Mold crawled between the bricks and stayed there, dying the house green. I turned away and nearly threw up.
“This way,” Emily said, climbing a set of stairs. It was really dark, and everything was covered in shadow. The only source of light was a small Gothic window that shone through the gloom in a weak white arm. Set at the side of the stairwell was a black iron door. I started towards it, but Emily glared at me, so I abandoned the door and followed her.
The second floor was surprisingly well-kept. The floors were swept and the walls clean of dust. Picture frames depicting bugs and scarabs hung onto the wall, polished until it shone. There was even a pot of tea on the table.
“Knock yourself out,” Emily said as she collapsed onto the couch. She closed her eyes.
“Make yourself at home.”
“It stinks,” I observed, wrinkling my nose.
In fact it was the worst stink I had ever smelled in my life. It tore through the walls and floors like it was made of paper and I gagged. I sprinted to the window, stuck my head out and breathed in relief.
Emily raised an eyebrow.
“There’s some…construction going on downstairs,” she explained. “We just got here, so bear with it a little longer, okay Skye?”
“Yeah,” I choked. My eyes were watering. If I could see the smell it would be a big black cloud hovering in the air, howling and shaking in its stinky fury.
“Can I explore the city? I need some fresh air.”
“Go ahead,” Emily said, turning away. “Just be back for dinner.”
I nodded. I had never sprinted out of my old house so fast in my life, rubbing my smarting eyes. Even at the distance I could smell it, and once again I felt like throwing up.
After some time I slowed to a walk and really started to look around. It wasn’t much of a city—and it also wasn’t much of a town—but somewhere in between. It was getting quite late in the day with the sun streaming slowly in from the west, but the town felt…alive in a way. Shopkeepers hollered their wares from the inside of their ornate walls, and people were strolling on the streets, their arms interlocked laughing and whistling.
I tried not to think of Alfie.
A couple of blocks away I saw a large diner, its neon sign beckoning me inside. Getting closer I could smell heaven: char-grilled meats, fresh cakes and cookies, and something else in a fryer or oven.
My stomach growled. I wiped off my drool with my sleeves.
Pushing the door open, I went in.
The diner was abuzz with chatter and laughter; people were toasting each other with glasses of beer and ale. Yet everything died the moment I came in. Time stood still; heads swiveled to look at me and a collective gasp rose from the frozen crowd. I felt like an animal in a zoo as I navigated through the chaos and found a table to sit.
“Don’t mind ‘em.”
The speaker was a living Popeye, with a big, floppy nose and bigger arms that bulged with muscles and fat and a tattoo of a beetle instead of an anchor. He was wearing a greasy, bloody apron and a cap that was too small for a nest of blonde hair.
“It’s been a while since we had anyone new around here. Thirteen years, in fact. Also, hold on…”
He squinted hard at me, his eyes moving from my head down to my legs.
“Are you Skye?”
Goosebumps pricked my skin once more. I looked outside and realised the wind had once again stood still.
“Yes! How do you know?”
The man opposite me thought for a moment, then shouted something to the kitchens. Then he sat down opposite me and grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.
“Your stepmom talks about you a lot. She adores you, you know.”
He cupped my head in his hands and brushed a lock of hair off my head. Tears welled in his eyes.
“You look a lot like your mom. Same face, same eyes.”
He knocked on my face like it was a piece of wood.
Click clock
“Rock solid too.”
My hair stood up on my skin as I stared straight into the eyes of this man who I just met.
“Y-you know my biological mom too?”
The man’s smile grew even wider. “Let’s just say…kind of.”
He extended his hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself earlier. Call me Mr Lancaster. I’m the owner here.”
“I’m pleased to meet you too,” I replied, shaking his hand.
“Boss? Everything is ready.”
One of the waiters skidded to a halt near our table. He was a handsome youth—freckles and curly red hair. He held out a huge plastic bag to me.
Mr Lancaster smiled at me in a way that made my heart melt.
“Fish and chips. And I threw in some strawberry milkshakes as well. It’s one of our best dishes on the menu. Emily is always going on and on about how crazy you are for ‘em.”
“Wow! Thank you Mr Lancaster!”
“It’s on the house too. A welcome gift from me. Tell your stepmom she doesn’t have to pay back a single cent.”
He glanced out at the darkening sky, sweat mopping his brow.
“You better be going now. It’s getting late. See you soon, Skye. You’re always welcome here.”
And with that, he practically shoved me out of the door.
The bell tinkled as I stumbled onto the street, nearly tripping over the food. It was really heavy, mind you. Like a thousand dumb-bells made out of solid gold. By the time I reached my flat my arms ached.
I dropped the takeaway on the floor and sat down on one of the stairs to rest. The sun had completely set at this point; long, thin shadows crawled across the wall to the corners. Soon I was plunged in darkness. I could barely see my hand in front of my face.
My vision suddenly cleared, and I realised I could see. Somehow. Dark shapes shifted and twisted before my eyes, but I could still make out details of every brick, every scratch on the stairs and wall. The takeaway sat untouched before me.
It was like looking through an extremely grainy CCTV.
BANG BANG BANG!
As the bangs echoed throughout the hallway I froze, the excitement of my discovery gone.
BANG BANG BANG!
SKYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEE!
My name was shouted with great abandon, the call tinged with sorrow and pain. I inched closer and realised that it was coming from the iron door.
SKYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEE!
Whoever was calling me was thrashing against the door, making the hinges shake. I backed away, my heart in my throat. All the hair on my skin was standing up straight.
BANG BANG BANG!
The stink slapped me in the face, making my nose itch. My eyes didn’t leave the door as I scrambled up the stairs to the main apartment, leaving everything in the dust.
It was only when I slammed the door behind me and sprinted down the hallway to my bedroom did I realise I forgot the takeaway still sitting at the bottom of the stairs.
Oh well I told myself, trying to calm my shaking heart. I can go back in a few minutes.
I’m sure Emily and Dad won’t mind.
The city had fallen asleep. The hustle and bustle seemed to have vanished with the last of the sun. The streets were illuminated faintly with lamps that shone like a halo. My room looked like it belonged in a horror movie.
I lay on my bed for a while, squeezing my eyes shut and listening to my heart beat. The screams had long died down, but I somehow heard them long and clear in my mind, as if blasted by an invisible loudspeaker.
SKYEEEEEEE!
Low and loud, like a foghorn from a ship lost at sea.
SKYEEEEEEEEE!
“Shut up!” I screamed, my eyes welling with tears. I curled up in a ball and squeezed my head with my pillow. Even then the screams rammed against the sides of my head, over and over again, and I was dizzy from the pain.
Eventually I got out of bed and wandered throughout the house, hoping for something to distract myself from the eternal noise. The apartment was shaded in the same grainy darkness, except for the dining-room, which was glowing invitingly like a crackling campfire. Something clanged and tinkled. Cutlery probably. Either Emily or my dad setting the table. My stomach grumbled. The smell from the diner was making me hungry.
I started towards the dining room but then I heard it. A strange chitter-chatter. Like crickets, even though we lived so far from nature.
It was coming from the pictures hanging on the wall.
I hadn’t paid much attention to them when I first came in, but now it was drawing me closer like a moth to a flame. The bugs chittered again, and their legs twisted and struggled, almost like it was dancing. Looking closer, I realised that all the pictures depicted the same figure. A woman in various poses with the head of a bug with too-large eyes. She was wearing a dress that shone like fire and was glaring at the camera.
“Mom?”
I clapped my hand over my mouth. I didn’t know where that came from. I looked nothing like her. I didn’t know her. It was my first time seeing her.
But Alfie…
No, no, no! I’m mad! I must be going mad! It’s the screams, I thought, the screams were driving me cuckoo! Making me think crazy thoughts!
I forced myself to look away and shove those thoughts out of my mind. I didn’t know what to believe anymore.
“Skye? Dinner time!”
Emily’s calls broke through the confusing mess in my head. I was grateful that she came to my rescue. Glancing back at the photo of my mum (no, she isn’t! How can I be related to…that?), I scurried down the hallway and into the dining room.
Emily had saved the takeaway.
It sat between us on the newly-dusted table. Emily pulled out foil containers and set one each before me and my dad.
“Mr Lancaster called about the fish and chips,” she explained. “He was delighted to have met you, Skye.”
She ruffled my hair, and chuckled as she handed me a strawberry milkshake. “But it looked like his little delivery girl got cold feet on her first order, eh?”
“Emily!” I groaned. I took a long sip and licked my lips. The milkshake was delicious. Rich, creamy and filled with enough sugar to make my insulin go straight into overdrive.
“Hey,” I noted, sitting down after a while. The pure sweetness of that drink was enough to make my head spin. “Mr Lancaster made some extra fish and chips.”
And it stank too. Almost as much as whatever is behind that iron door.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” Emily said quickly, sweeping the bag off the table and rushing it to the kitchen. “Mr Lancaster always makes me extra. He knows I’m always hungry after midnight!”
I chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of my worries lift off my shoulders. Emily did eat a lot after midnight. A couple of times I had spotted her sneaking to the living room with the television on and a bag of chips.
Yet this particular container stuck out like a sore thumb. Not just the smell, or how big it was compared to the others, but…but, was it me or was it glowing?
I buried that thought into the deepest recesses of my mind. No. I had enough wild and crazy thoughts and visions for one night.
Succumbing to them was not what Alfie would have wanted.
That was not what any of us would have wanted.
Once we had finished dinner, I helped to clear the table and wash the cutlery. Emily turned to me and said:
“I’ve got some things to do tonight. Take care, Skye, and take care of your dad.”
“He does not look well.”
Sick actually. Dad looked like he was going to throw up. He staggered to the couch and passed out on the leather. I couldn’t help but pity him. Fifty-six years old, and all that oil into the fish and chips was not doing his heart any good.
“I’ll look after him,” I promised.
“Good girl.” Emily gave me another thin smile. She pulled on a jacket—a black jacket with a golden rim—and gave me a kiss on my forehead.
“I won’t be long.”
Emily strode out of the house, taking the last box of fish and chips with her. There was something clinking in her pocket, like suits or armor banging together. And just as she stepped out of the front door, she pulled out that something from her pocket. I only saw it for a brief second, but it was enough to make my heart race.
It was a key. But not just any key.
This one was black. Like evil. Like ash. Like the iron door.
It smirked at me as it hid back in her pocket. A shiver ran up my spine.
“Emily, wait!”
“Is there a problem, Skye?”
“Yeah. I wanna ask you something.”
I took a deep, shaky breath. There was a lump in my throat and my heart was beating way too fast.
“The iron door on the first floor…what’s behind it?”
“It’s nothing, Skye,” Emily said. Her eyes darted to somewhere behind me and fixed on one of the bug women. “Just some of my old stuff, y’know? From before I met your dad?”
“Right…”
“Now I have to go. I’ll be late otherwise. I’ll see you later, okay Skye?”
I swallowed as I watched her leave. Uncertainty still sat tight in my stomach, wound up like a spring, and wouldn’t let go.
“Dad? You okay?”
No response. My dad was out like a light.
Then his eyes shot open.
I gulped.
They got bigger and bigger. I saw each individual vein popping out and weaving into each other like mini spider webs.
Then it bulged and swelled. His head enlarged to accommodate it.
Chills shot down my spine as I realised exactly what was going on.
“Dad?”
Click click click.
His lips split and burst into mandibles. I scrambled over and held his hand.
“Don’t do this to me. Don’t be like Alfie.”
I was crying. I was shaking. Oh god, I was shaking so bad it felt like I was in an earthquake.
Click click click
I scrambled over and held his hand. It only seemed to make it worse, however. I watched as it shrank and turned black and folded into itself.
“Dad! Fight it!”
He hunched over and coughed out so much more blood.
Ack ack ack
“DAD!”
His spine was curving over and hardening into a black shell. I dropped his hand and backed away into a corner, my face white.
Ack ack ack.
The floor was blooming. Grass spread thin like a carpet and tall trees grew. I saw red flowers explode onto new branches, like a bundle of fireworks.
My dad clicked and clacked, as if enjoying the new scenery.
No…
My skin was crawling. Literally. I looked down and saw bumps pulsing beneath the folds, marching along to my heartbeat. Then it broke and a cockroach popped out. It took a deep breath, bowed, clicked and clacked in the same rhythm as my dad’s—slow and steady, a pulse—
And…
And I SWEAR I heard the cockroach say:
“Your Highness.”
I screamed. It bounced off new grass and fresh flora.
I’m really going mad now.
I pinched myself, wondering if I was living in some kind of nightmare. But I wasn’t. It was as real as the still lights from the street lamps shining in through the window.
Click clack.
More cockroaches were spilling out from my skin like a dam left unchecked. My dad looked at me inquisitively. Cement was quickly turning into dirt.
Click clack
My thoughts were clambering over each other as I squatted, paralysed in my corner, watching the cockroaches with my mouth open. My dad—no longer human—crawled into the walls and towards me. Staring at the roaches and slowly reaching out to them. They squeaked and climbed over him.
This was too much. I did the only thing I could think of.
My phone was butter in my hands. My vision blurred and I kept on punching in the wrong numbers.
Thankfully, Emily answered the phone on the first ring.
I took a deep breath and screamed into the receiver. My voice was shaking so bad I was surprised I could say anything at all.
“EMILY! HELP!”
SK

I'm new to Dreams and I'm not sure I gave it the right flair or else, if not I'm sorry for it. To give some context, I'm a 15 m, and last night I had to relive a recurring dream from some time ago.. again.
The dream begins with me and couple friends arriving to some sort of a secluded area far away from land like a resort or island of some kind (They are always 1 or 2 females I've known recently or had a friendly relationship, them being around a similar age or less, though they are never the same in each dream). We are greeted by a middle-aged woman who's in charge of the resort. She welcomes us and informs us about a special program/treatment that will be included for free during our stay. We cut to us waiting for the program until one of us is asked to come in. We are all kind of excited by the idea and we enter one by one, waiting for our names to be called.
​
Once I'm told to come in, I enter a room similar to that of a doctor's office(I'm not sure about that 100%, but it's what I think to remember) and in front of me stands the same middle-aged woman. She informs me that after some discussion, I'm deemed "not suitable for the treatment" and I'm asked to leave and wait outside until my friend's treatment if complete. I wait bored in the waiting room until out comes my friend(or friends). She appears to be in well state but she looks out of place. Her face no longer filled with life, her eyes looking at nothing in particular but the endless void. I try to talk to her but she doesn't respond to me, as if entranced by something. The woman happily tells her that she's alright, to not worry about anything else and to go to her new room. She repeats her words and obliges to her commands, leaving the room along with a pair of guards to escort her.
​
I keep repeating her name(or their names), screaming for a response as guards restrain me from running to her. I'm put to my knees, crying out for their names, asking the woman what she did to them. She responds to me with a sadistic smile that they've become her new obedient submissive puppets. She brainwashed them to forget me and everyone else with the only thing in their minds being to obey their mistress and master. My face fills with tears at the thought of it. She then tells me that I wasn't part of the plan, but that I don't need to worry, and that everything will be alright. After that I normally wake up.
​
That was, until last night. I had dreamed the same, aside from the friends this time becoming a pair of sisters I made friendships with in an exchange, but won't be able to see again for some time. Anyway, the importance of this time is that now that I remember at least parts of it, I know how it goes. I try to be the first to come in and while she tells me the same as the last 2 times and my friends are still brainwashed, I try to fight back against her, against them. It seems that I managed to escape but I woke up once more in my bed.
​
I'm trying to make sense of all this. It's been the third time this has happened to me(That I remember of) and for the first time, I'm writing this down to remember it and try to analyse why is this happening to me. When I remember the dream while awake, I cry a bit. I don't know exactly what it's trying to tell me but at least I made some progress last time. I know for sure that there may be other parts of the dream that I don't remember as much as the one's I recall and that are cloudy at the moment. If anyone could help me in anyway, I'd be very grateful. I hope you all have a wonderful day.

I want to preface this by saying I do not recommend going cold turkey for the potential life-threatening side effects you may experience if you've been taking Seroquel at a high dose or for a long period of time. But I still did it after research and making my own educated decision about this and weighing the pros and cons, and if you're here you may be considering it as well.
I don't want to encourage anyone to go cold turkey, but I do want to share my own personal timeline to help those who are currently trying to quit cold or are thinking about it to share some things you may want to prepare to expect. I am not a healthcare professional, this is just my own experience quitting and the symptoms I had during the withdrawal period. Withdrawal will be different for everyone, so if you do quit don't expect to go through the same symptoms I did day-by-day.
Listen to your body. If the withdrawal symptoms are too severe or painful, taper instead. If you are experiencing any life-threatening conditions, suicidal thoughts, etc. go to the emergency room. I'm not a doctor, you probably aren't either, and no doctor would recommend this. Know what you're getting yourself into, do research, and prepare the best that you can before making this decision.
​
I was prescribed 100 mg of Seroquel once a day at bedtime to manage PTSD and insomnia on February 15th and stopped taking it on March 12th for a total of 25 days on it. I would not recommend going off cold turkey or without supervision of medical professionals if you take it to treat bipolar disorder or any other mental health condition, as it can make those issues much worse during the withdrawal period.
I thought that even though I was taking a relatively high dose, that because I had only taken it for a short period of time I would have minimal withdrawal symptoms. I did not want another 4 weeks of going down 25mg week by week and just decided to suck it up and deal with whatever symptoms hit me.
​
My withdrawal timeline was as follows:
NIGHT 1: Mild nausea and severe insomnia. I took a Zofran to manage nausea and literally could not keep my eyes closed. Tried a bath, tea, reading, etc. and nothing worked. No sleep that night.
DAY 1: On no sleep I was irritable and physically exhausted. Otherwise, not too bad. I had little appetite which I chalked up to insomnia and ate one meal, but had to take a Zofran immediately after because I felt sick.
NIGHT 2: No sleep again, same severity as night one if not worse. My brain could not slow down even though my body was screaming at me to sleep.
DAY 2: I tried to nap in the morning despite construction going on in my apartment building which would normally prevent me from sleeping. I got 45 minutes of sleep on and off and experienced sleep paralysis and kept waking up in cold sweats. The nausea got unbearable and Zofran no longer worked. Didn't eat.
NIGHT 3: Nausea kept me awake this time, insomnia became less severe. 2 hours of sleep.
DAY 3: Felt sick and finally crashed in the morning and slept for 13 hours. Didn't eat. Started to get allergy symptoms of running nose and full-body soreness.
NIGHT 4: Awake all night after sleeping all day, began experiencing flu-like feverish symptoms of being hot and cold. Pulled blankets up, burned up and got sweaty. Threw them off, got cold chills. Repeated every 5 minutes until I gave up on trying to sleep.
DAY 4: On very little, irregular sleep and no food and hardly any water (I'd lost the energy to drink anything and my partner was basically having to beg me to drink water every few hours) I was exhausted. The brain fog I felt from the medicine was still heavy and now my body was exhausted too. I couldn't do anything but stare blankly at the TV without actually absorbing any information. Nausea still had not gotten ANY better but Zofran was no longer managing it.
NIGHT 5: 3 hours of irregular, restless sleep. Back on a loop of "no sleep, crash, no sleep"
DAY 5: Brain fog got worse, partner got very worried for me because I was unresponsive, not eating, not sleeping, and just staring off at nothing all day. Started to get severe migraines that medicine didn't help. I assume this was because of brain chemistry changing after being on the medication, but could have been no sleep, no food, dehydration, etc. Took a 2 hour nap
NIGHT 6: Nausea FINALLY subsided but appetite hadn't returned. I ate a few animal crackers and drank apple juice and water. I tried to eat some grapes but they were too flavorful and made me sick so we decided to only keep me on a very bland diet. No sleep.
DAY 6: Slept all day, had a rough emotional breakdown where I cried over the medicine that was supposed to help my insomnia and fix my schedule and was distraught that it just messed it all up again. Headaches were on-and-off and bad, didn't eat but drank juice, emotional breakdown was actually a relief in a way because I hadn't really felt much or been able to muster up tears since getting on it. I felt relieved I could finally feel again.
NIGHT 7: Appetite returned! After nearly a week of no food other than a single meal and animal crackers, I was finally able to eat something. It wasn't much but helped my energy immediately and alleviated headaches some.
DAY 7: Continued to eat very small amounts of food as appetite got better. Had more energy despite no sleep and mood perked up significantly. The worst of the symptoms were over by this point. Slept 5 hours.
NIGHT 8: Slept again for 13 hours on and off, I think my body was catching up on lost sleep. Woke up with severe muscle stiffness which was personally terrible because I felt out of control of my body which is very scary for me and just wanted to cry. I couldn't lay in any position without it feeling like I was doing a wall sit with how much my hips and legs ached. A hot epsom salt bath, a new mattress pad, Advil, and Ativan helped some.
DAY 8: Emotionally exhausting day. Muscle stiffness still preventing me from getting out of bed, but I was now eating regularly. Napped on and off.
NIGHT 9: The brain fog finally cleared and it felt like I "woke up" for the first time since being on it. I don't even know how to describe it. Muscle stiffness got better, no more nausea or headaches, eating small portions but regularly. Now I was just irritated my schedule had gotten flipped.
DAY 14 (TODAY): It's actually baffling to me that I've only been off for two weeks because it feels like so much longer. Being on it really messed with my sense of time and I'm still getting my footing. My sleeping schedule has been on track for two days now after staying up and pushing a few all-nighters. I'm glad I'm off of it, but still glad I took it. It helped me manage my PTSD and paranoia, but as soon as the cons outweighed the benefits I knew it wasn't for me.
​
Do I recommend cold turkey? No. The efficiency of it will depend on who you are, your dose, the duration taken, etc. I can't recommend this to you without knowing these things and even if I did my answer would be "listen to your body, you know your limits better than I do"
Did it work for me? Absolutely. If you can manage to power through the withdrawal symptoms you will feel SO much better off of it if it's no longer working for you. Again, if you've been taking it for a longer time than me or highemore frequent doses I can't recommend it because the longer you take it/the more you take, the more likely you are to have more serious symptoms that could land you in the ER. I thought I wouldn't have more than just a headache and nausea since I took it less than a month but these symptoms still wiped me and I literally did not leave bed for an entire week.
If you have any questions about my experience or want any advice on how I managed certain symptoms, please don't hesitate to ask! Withdrawal is different for everyone, but if I can give some comfort/advice to anyone currently going through it or thinking of quitting, I will gladly.

As I came to, ice-cold blood rushed into my veins like I’d been raised from the dead. My muscles cramped and my head stung like I’d been bashed in the head with a mallet. It took me a moment for the world to stop spinning and for my eyes to start focusing again.
Getting up from the bedroom floor it occurred to me that I had no recollection of how I’d ended up there. The rug under my feet was stained with blood in a thick, moist circle - the smell of iron giving it away instantly. I realized that my shirt was also drenched in blood, although it had mostly dried off already, giving the formerly white t-shirt a very morbid tie-dye treatment.
With the slight beginnings of panic brewing in my dislocated mind, I started walking towards the bedroom door to check if anyone else was here when my foot coincided with something hard, giving my pinky toe a solid uppercut, the pain making me lift the leg up as if it had to flee from its opponent.
It was a handgun. The make and model were not familiar to me, but as I picked it up it contoured itself smoothly to my hand, its coarse and cold handle a sensory delight for my palm and fingers. As I examined it, something inside its metallic mechanism clicked, and its magazine fell to the ground. Giving it a closer look, it looked almost full, like there could still be space for one more round.
Wait, had I been shot?
Frantically I started patting my body like I was giving myself a strip search. I sighed in relief as I found no holes, blood fountains or other indication that a bullet had penetrated my body. But that brung upon an even alarming question.
Whose blood was I wearing?
Slowly, and looking at the ground more carefully this time, I made my way to the door and opened it. I could see the rest of the small apartment clearly from my vantage point. Hallway to my left, leading outside the apartment, a half-opened door to the bathroom a few feet down the hall. Living room and kitchen in front of me, tied together by a small bar. Minimal decor and only essential furniture: a couch, TV, bookshelf. I walked around the quiet apartment, and finding no one else, I returned to the bedroom for no other reason besides that’s where I had woken up. That’s when the biggest question hit me.
Who was I?
I tried and tried to think of the subject, but there was no recollection or even a sliver of familiarity to the concept of ‘me’. It was like I was trying to think of an answer in the midst of an important test at school; although the question undoubtedly had an answer which I’d at some point known, I just couldn’t locate it in my mind, no matter how hard I tried. I sat down on the bed to think of something more useful. As my body weight shifted the mattress, something tiny slid across and touched my thigh just barely enough for me to notice. The object sparked familiarity; it was a USB stick.
With no other clues to go on, I picked up the laptop that was laying on the single nightstand next to the narrow bed and booted it up. Luckily for me, it wasn’t password protected, so I stuck the USB stick in and waited for the system to recognize it, hoping for some clue as to what was going on.
The screen flashed and the drive’s folder popped up. Inside it was only one file, called savepoint.txt.
I double-clicked the file, and for a short while nothing happened. For a second, I thought the system had crashed. Suddenly the laptop’s fans started to roar and the file flashed open in a jagged glitch. The text editing software was still loading pages as it opened, and after a minute or two the fans relented and no more pages were added to the tally. The final length for the document was 12,421 pages, and it began with the following paragraph.
“Your name is Alastair Stephen White, born to Bethany and Richard White on July 2nd 1987. You were born in the United States of America, in the state of Missouri, in the town of Jefferson City. Right now, you are in your own apartment, located in Topeka, Kansas. You live alone. You are safe there. There’s food and drink in the fridge - help yourself.
If you are reading this and have no recollection of the aforementioned information, it is deeply important that you study this document in full and internalize the information within. You may not remember who you are, but that can be relearned - a risk that I knew well to be probable, and that is why I’ve arranged this document for you. The text is formatted to be chronological, so as to reacquaint yourself with yourself in the same order as you had when you lived through the memories within.”
The text went on to describe certain physical traits (the shape of my ears, a few birthmarks) in great detail, which I confirmed to be accurate descriptions of my body. Although I was compelled by the text, it was hard to comprehend what it was for. Either way, whoever had written it had a very intimate knowledge of me physically, which therefore indicated that other aspects of the text held some modicum truth as well. After a few pages of further prologue regarding ‘my’ life, the author had written a long passage about my first memory.
“Your first memory was of a stroke of genius you had as a child, thereby relaying to your parents both their dim wits and your potential in matters of greatness. Thankfully they furthered your education and prospects thereafter.
You were between the ages of two and three, and you were watching Bethany in the kitchen as she cut cherry tomatoes one by one, dropping two halves at a time into the salad bowl. You saw the efficiency that she so horrifyingly lacked and your first real idea sparked itself to life. Bethany went to the other room for whatever, and you climbed up on a wooden stool to reach the countertop. You flipped the tomatoes onto the counter, bunching them up as you did so, and placed the cutting board on top of them. You laid the knife at the edge of the board, between the board and the countertop.
Once Bethany came back, she was confused and started to scold you for touching the knife. No, no NO, you thought, possibly rambling something childlike through your meek lips, and pointed at the tomatoes, not backing down to the wishes of dumb Bethany.
‘Oh,’ she said to herself, surprise in her voice. ‘I do it like this, I get a bunch more at a time. Clever,’ she mumbled to herself as the cogs in her brain finally caught up to speed. Bethany held the fruit in place with the cutting board as she slid the knife across two dozen tomatoes, cutting each one in half with one quick motion. ‘Is this what you meant for me to do, baby?’ she asked, turning to you. You nodded, victorious. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to convince others to do as you said, for you were different. Better.”
After that, the text held each memory that was supposedly mine, written down in great detail, beginning from childhood. How an apple I’d bitten into had a bug on it, fueling my interest in biology at an early age. How, on my first day of school, the teacher called my parents to tell them that I’d be more suited for an upper class, for my education to be more aligned with my skills and abilities. How the other kids wouldn’t play with me because I’d win at any game they’d throw at me. What my childhood home looked like, with all its nooks and crannies. How I felt when Jeremy from school had pantsed me in front of everyone at gym class. How I’d swore to find revenge through success and brilliance.
The level of specificity was so exceptional, it occurred to me that the only possible author for the document could be me. I’d been a child prodigy - someone clinically better than everyone around me - and I’d held others in contempt because of their lack of appreciation and understanding. A dissonance slowly grew in my mind as I read further, for I couldn’t relate to the ‘me’ that had written the document. I’ll be referring to the author as him from now on. He was brilliant, yet horrible.
The document quickly became nearly impossible to read - the man in the pages growing into a pompous prick, mostly boasting about his greatness and lamenting on how no one understood him. As he grew up, he slowly became more introverted and bitter. He couldn’t relate to other kids, teens, or even adults. He was lonely, hating the world for it, while the world hated him back not for his genius, but for being a self-righteous asshole. Although he’d excelled in most everything he did, nothing seemed to satisfy him.
I scrolled through large excerpts of text, occasionally skimming some in an attempt to decipher the egoistic babble within, until I wound up in his college years, wherein he finally started writing about something other than himself.
He’d started to study theology in college, taking random classes between his joyride of a major in biomedical engineering. He did it just for fun - and to be able to discredit religions with an in-depth view of their infrastructures and holy texts. Each religion and sect within - it was all inane to him; a morbid, practical joke thrust upon the weak minded.
That is until he read about the Bardo Thödol, a Tibetan buddhist funerary text, and for whatever reason, he immediately regarded the text in high acclaim. In short, the Bardo Thödol is recited to a dying person to guide them through death and into a successful rebirth. He said that the ancient text held astounding similarities to the principles of death and life within living organisms.
“They knew things in great detail we have only now uncovered through expensive, back-breaking research. The text is astonishing by all accounts, and its convoluted nature and lack of proper translation has kept it somewhat hidden from modern society.”
That was the beginning of his research, which he soon started calling project Savepoint. Below I’ve highlighted relevant passages from the document relating to his research for a chance at conveying his thought process, and how Bardo Thädol relates to what we know of death in modern times.
“-- and so, there are three bardos, or gaps, when any living thing dies, and it must go through each one to achieve rebirth. The first bardo, also known as the moment of death, is essentially basic biology; the subject experiences hallucinations of luminosity and shapes, as well as vague, overall positive feelings. This is in part due to the neuroprotective activity of the brain's serotonergic system.”
“During the second bardo, the subject is said to become reckoned with by ‘wrathful’ and ‘peaceful’ entities. This correlates directly with the fleeting moments of brain activity after death, wherein the brain releases a concoction of different chemicals in a fell swoop akin to tripping on mushrooms. Existential thoughts are often copious during such strong, mind-altering experiences, giving credence to the deities as innate human morality presenting itself in different physical forms, often called ‘good’ and ‘bad’”
“-- and therefore the mystery lies within the last gap, sidpa bardo: rebirth. The sacred texts regarding the first and second bardo correlate directly with what we have come to know about death - an unprecedented finding in and of itself. For them to have had access to such information with such clear evidence would indicate that the third bardo exists as well, even if humanity has yet to uncover and quantify its existence in the realm of traditional science. During this phase, the subject is selected for rebirth among one of the six realms, all according to their karmic projection --”
“There are thousands of people who have been clinically dead, and then brought back to life. In some cases their return to the living world has come minutes after they’ve become braindead -- and they return to their own body. At first it seemed a direct discordance within the teachings of the Bardo Thödol, but once I researched the most common attributes of experience from victims to such trauma, it all made perfect sense. The victims had accidentally bypassed their karmic projection, breaking the 49 day cycle, and wound up back to their own bodies -- and what if I could recreate that scenario? What if I could make a surefire way of returning back to my body after death, thereby reaching near-immortality? Reverse the bodily harm which had taken the life? Once I reached this conclusion, it was just a matter of execution, preparement, and patience.”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if these were the ramblings of a lone genius gone mad, or something which could potentially be an actual scientific discovery. It was apparent that he had worked on his theory for years, slowly accumulating research as he found new translations of texts and built a vast collection of evidence. Weirdly enough, it started to make sense to me -- although the hypothesis was outlandish, each piece of the puzzle supported one another. He was convinced that there was a system through which any person could prevent their death in the immediate moments after it has happened and return back to life, and frankly, I was beginning to be convinced as well.
He started spending less time on his actual studies, instead allocating most of his time on project Savepoint. Even so, he seemed to do fine in school, on account of his innate brilliance and lack of any social life. Other people were barely ever mentioned by name in the document, besides Bethany and Richard once each year when he’d go and visit them out of obligation. His ego seemed to become severely bloated, as evidenced by the following snippets. Although the text had been mostly written to ‘me’, it had slowly shifted into the first person, betraying its original intent of speaking to the reader directly.
“I am the catalyst. I will change the world. What should they call me? Perhaps the Immortal Man -- no, that’s dumb. I’m not a superhero. At least I will get a Pulitzer prize --”
“No wonder I’ve felt social ineptitude. I should have realized. How could a God be entertained by man? Soon they will all see.”
After years of nonstop work, he concluded his research, and began to prepare for death. He wanted to be the first subject of project Savepoint, further proving that he needed no assistance from anyone except himself, and proving to himself that his theory held true.
It was evident that there might be complications along the process of death, and that is why he wrote the savepoint document. According to him, there was a significant chance that after death, when he came to, he’d have no memory of who he was, or what he had done during his life - his whole life swept under the rug.
That’s why he needed to write it down; to protect his legacy and his achievement. That’s why I was reading it right now: the proof that I, Alastair Stephen White, had killed myself and returned to life using a bastardized version of ancient knowledge. In case things went awry, he wanted me to learn to be him, so that I could share his legacy and live his life as accurately as possible.
Apparently the USB stick hadn’t been the only place he’d injected the document into. There were several more alongside hard drives throughout the house along with digital copies located in every device within the apartment. According to him, there was even a printed copy next to the bookshelf. The fridge was stocked, the upcoming month’s rent paid, and an alibi given to his parents and teachers. Scrolling down to the last page of the document, he revealed his final plan.
“Tonight, I will update the cloud-based files with this final version of savepoint.txt, and distribute plentiful copies of it around the apartment. I will take the gun and insert it into my mouth, pointing straight through my brain - the most surefire way of killing myself. If all goes according to plan, I will wake up at some point thereafter, returned from the dead, having successfully hacked the cycle of rebirth to target my own body instead of another.
This will be my savepoint. This document holds within it all that I am, and all the research and evidence I’ve gathered. There are two distinct risks present in what I’m about to do. 1) The rebirthing cycle continues uninterrupted, and Alastair White dies, his essence given to another lifeform. 2) The hack is successful, but in returning the essence of me, the kyenay bardo is wiped from existence to relocate its clone. Simply put, some or all of my memories and sense of identity will be gone.
Tonight, I will face death, the final frontier.
This is my savepoint. Bring this to the world, Alastair. Show them that we are God.
Yours,
Alastair White”
His plan was airtight, except for one glaring omission. Not once did Alastair White even hint that his post-death self would hate what he read, hate the man behind those words, and despise his opportunistic ‘research’. It’s daring to call his experiment a success, for although his body had been sprung back to life as he’d promised, the monster that had created it hated itself.
I will not tell you the specifics of how he achieved what he did, for the sacrifice was great - and not just to him. What I will tell you is that it took months and months of intense preparations, which not only hurt himself but others as well.
I will not finish his work. He will be known as a lonely lunatic, and savepoint will be nothing but a vague story of a man who tried to defeat death, all his fervent research and preparation for nothing.
I am Alastair White, and I intend to continue this life instead of dwelling on death.

A bit of background first! Myself and my partner have a 3.5 year old cat. We’ve had him for about 3 years now. He’s indoor only, neutered and chipped etc.
He always been quite independent and playful, but in the last year or so has begun to become quite cuddly, too, which is great.
He’s never really been socialised aside from a few things: 1) our back window has a lot of cats that come to visit - one younger one in particular comes and sits there often, and ours will sit at the window with them the whole time - they’ve even sniffed and booped a little through the open window from time to time. Other older ones aren’t as friendly and hiss at ours through the window but he always seems completely unfazed. 2) There was about a week during the pandemic where we had to stay with my sister, who had an older male cat. Ours was understandably overwhelmed and scared (new environment and another, bigger cats territory etc.) and hissed at my sisters cat on the few times he ventured off around the house, but this was always due to fear and never aggressive- he’d just run off back to his safe room.
We’ve recently begun considering a second cat. Lots of folks here seem to swear by it being a must-have for the cat’s sake, and we’d love him to have a friend to play with, as well as us. Plus we have the space/time etc. Why not give a new cat a home, too?
We found one nearby that is being rehomed that seems a great fit, but also raises some concerns: She is 6 months old, super friendly and calm, indoor but well socialised - all in all a good match it seems in terms of personality and age. She seemed to warm to us quickly when we met her which is great, and she comes with lots of her own bedding etc so she will have a comfortable and familiar scent profile if/when she comes.
She hasn’t yet been spayed or chipped so we’re looking at spaying her at least before taking her, if not both, to aid with the introductions. We’re not sure of her medical / vaccination record either as it seems to have been lost, so we’d likely look at doing the same there.
I guess where we need advice is on anything we might not have considered? We’ve read the FAQs and guides on introducing cats etc, but we’re just really keen that - if we go ahead - we put our best foot forward and have thought of everything to make it work out well for the cats. Does anyone have any advice from a similar situation?
Our main worry is how it could affect our current cat, especially given how affectionate he’s become recently (as selfish as it sounds- it’s nice having a cuddly cat!)
Thanks!

What in your opinion are the best dorms? One would say i'm biased because i'm from ravenclaw, but i think the best dorms are the ones of ravenclaw :p. I think they are the most closed and similar to a room, from what i saw the dorms of other houses are almost like living rooms with beds.

My parents got divorced when I was a teenager and we all just felt apart. My parents weren't dedicated parents, they focused on looking for new partners instead of supporting me and my siblings. We are okay now, but not close. Sometimes we don't talk for weeks and I never felt love from my family.
I am single, so I still spend holidays with my family. I don't want to do it anymore though. I feel that it's just a duty and I continue doing it just because I know people will judge me that "I'm a bad daughter". During holidays I stay with my mom and her partner and then visit my father for several hours. Dinners with my family are always very awkward. I am not talking about quitting meeting my family though. I would still visit them, but one-on-one, because the atmosphere is not that toxic then.
Last holidays:
My mom is okay when we are alone, but by the table with her partner, she is awkward and she doesn't talk at all. Then she goes to her room with him and I have to ask her to come when I want to spend time with her. She doesn't want even to go for a walk with me because she is always tired and prefer to chill with her partner.
My mom's partner is awkward, rude and almost doesn't talk at all.
My father got drunk and was telling us how he hooks up with some ladies. It's disgusting to me, my sister is mad at me that I don't accept his behavior.
My sister is mean to me when she is around other people. For example: - We just came and she was like "you and mom irritates me so much, I hate being home, I already regret coming here" - I told her that she looks very pretty in this makeup, she laughed and answered "I look always like this, I just don't put efforts in looking pretty when I visit you, but when I meet other people I always put makeup on" - I don't understand that, I just told her a compliment, right? - She kicked me under the table and I asked her to stop. She made a mad face and said "really, is it a problem?" - I took a picture and I told "oh no, I look bad, let's redo it", she told me "you look always like this". I was just holding tears and looking in my plate. Nobody cared. Then she went to sleep and she spend the half of the day in bed. After it we started talking and she was nicer, because we were alone. - We had a random conversation and I told her "our siblings already started familes and spend holidays with them, one day we'll also spend holidays with our husbands and children". She got super mad and told me "you'll stop spending holidays with your parents because of having a husband? Parents should be always on the first place. You want to have a new, better family? You don't love your family? You will choose your in laws over us!?" I don't understand. She is mean. She says holidays are not nice, but she still wants me to spend holidays with them because it's my duty till parents are alive!?
I don't like complaining about my family, but I know that when I'll tell at work that I am not visiting them for holidays, they will think I am a bad daughter and it's my fault because "every mom is lovely and children don't appreciate it". I cry every holidays. I prefer to spend holidays alone than being with my family and feeling so unloved. This atmosphere is so toxic, they spend half of holidays in beds, they don't want to talk or do things together, my father gets drunk. I'm sorry that my parents get older, but I don't want to sacrifice myself just to make them happy.
I want to lie and tell them that I can't come because I have to work. I am so afraid of their reaction. I am afraid of feeling guilty after hearing how sad they are that I am not coming. Is my attitude reasonable? Do I do anything wrong? Should I sacrifice myself?
I will really appreciate if someone reads that all!
Summary: my parents and siblings want me to spend holidays with them, but it's very awkward, they are mean and always make me cry. I want to stop visiting them for holidays, but I'm afraid of their reaction and feeling "a bad daughter".

Our heroine Becky G is walking around the diva hotel, wearing only a red laced bra and draped bottoms, presenting her very toned abs held beneath her sun kissed skin, carrying her juicy thicc ass, swaying side to side with each step, as she looks for her opponent she’s scheduled to wrestle. That’s when she hears thudding steps running behind her. Before she can look behind her, she’s barged into by the running girl, sending her losing her footing, only to be only saved from falling by hitting the wall.’There you are’ says the runner, turning herself around to reveal herself as Chloe Bennet her rival. ‘So how about I just knock your ass out cold and end this feud, before I really get messy with you,’ says Chloe. Becky, chuckling, replies ‘This isn’t one of your shitty little tv shows, this is real life, where the great women kick ass, and the bitches take the beatings. I don’t want to hurt you Chloe, but if you touch me, you’re going to feel the fiesty side of me, and the fury of these fists wil end you.’ However, as Becky begins to hurt Chloe emotionally by dissing her, Chloe gives Becky a menacing look, and charges at her! Chloe grips Beckys biceps as she pushes Becky back with each step, her taller, thinner frame slightly towering over Becky. Chloe starts gaining momentum, as Becky heart starts sinking,pain clearly on her face, much to Chloes pleasure. Chloe pushes her into the door, and within her room with each step, and finally barrages Becky against the wall, Becky struggling to use her power against her rivals superior strength, due to her height. ‘Now who’s the superior woman’ cackles Chloe, as she plunges her fist into Beckys abs, making Becky whince, and knees her, making Becky crumble onto all fours, then is thrown across the floor a few centimetres by Chloes might. Chloe then quickly shoves her foot into Beckys asscheek, making the flesh ripple around it. ‘I just kicked your ass!’ Screams Chloe, laughing with extreme pleasure, ‘Latina bitch! U latinas are all the same, all talk, but no muscle, no threat. I’m not finished with you yet, I’ll prove to you who the “better woman” is!’Exclaims Chloe. This enrages Becky! ‘I can’t be humiliated by that cunt Becky!’ She thinks, ‘she’s gonna learn a lesson about latinas from this fiesty one’ Her eyes flame up, seeing red. She can’t bare to feel like less of a woman than Chloe bennet. So, when Chloe stomps over to Becky for some ground and pound, Becky rapidly elbows Chloe in the nose, making Chloe stumble back, and Becky pounces back up, like a cheetah, still feeling the pain of Chloes previous knee to the abs, and gives a strong right hook full of hate to Chloes face, after she was already recovering from her elbow, making her let out a little shriek of pain. Becky then uses her boxing skills to her advantage, taking full control of Chloes body, bruising her up and knocking her about the room with straight rights, until Chloes back hits the other side of the room, then body shots to Chloes stomach, Becky screaming with rage as she fires each fist, and Chloe screaming with pain, hunched over by the power of each shot Becky charges up. It looks like Chloe is ready to fall into unconsciousness by Beckys fists of fury any second now. But out of nowhere, Chloe manages to catch a fiery right hand from Becky to relinquish the punishment, making Beckys eyes widen. Before Becky can throw another cannon-like punch, Chloe grabs her other arm, leaving Becky unable to use those weapons of fists! Chloe knows she can’t outfight Becky, she isnt skilled enough, but she can outwrestle the smaller Becky, so that’s what she does. So Chloe, stumbling and near broken from the punishment she took, thrusts aside Becky into the wall, then Beckys pushed back into punishment. One headbutt by Chloe! 2 headbutts by Chloe! Becky needs to think fast, and before she is headbutted again, she pushes her foot into Chloes stomach with all the might she has left, shoving Chloe back, and freeing Beckys hands! Becky grabs Chloe and pushes her into the centre of the room. Becky follows her there, strutting toward her rival with confidence. Becky then charge up her shot and gives a straight right to Chloes face, followed by a hook to Chloes shoulder, and Chloe trades with a kick to the side of Becky and throws her off a couple steps by grabbing the laces of her bra and pushing her aside. They then both run into each other, and due to the punch Chloe has just taken to her shoulder, Becky just about is able to muscle Chloe about as she clutches her and begins to outmuscled and push Chloe toward the gap between the corner of the room and the bed. Her back completely arched forward, ass jiggling with each step she pushes Chloe forward. She exclaims, with her high pitched voice, a cute little ‘YARGH!’ as she gets Chloe and her in between the gap, Becky leading the charge of assault, and knees Chloe right in her abs, which are weaker and less defined than the latinas aesthetically chiselled set. This leads Chloe to flee a few steps away from her rival, currently kicking her ass and showing her what a real woman is. Chloe then fights against her pain and rotates 180 degrees with speed, sending a missile of a hand, a 1 in 1000 shot, that Becky hardly sees before it hits her face, completely connecting. The knockout-worthy punch leaves Becky scrawling away, and falling beside the wall. Still conscious. But barely. She is a wise fighter, so she knows at this point that if the fight continues this way, Chloe will end up heaving Becky above the ground, and throwing her back down, crashing her into unconsciousness and humiliation. She knew the only way to defeating her rival was by sending a spectacular stunt to her, while Chloe still hadn’t fully recovered. Chloe throws her arms onto Beckys bra laces, and shakes her up and down, Beckys heavenly, angelic body suspended by her bra, and being conquered by Chloe. ‘YOU BROKE MY NOSE IN THAT FIGHT YOU FUCKER IMGONNAKILLYOU!’ Beckys hand desperately searches upon the table besides her for any weapon as Chloe begins strangling Becky, draining the life away from her. A vase, that’s it! Beckys hand, carrying the vase, crashes upon Chloes head leaving a shard scratch or two, and resulting in Chloe jerking back to recover. Becky recovers her breath and is once again rushed with fight adrenaline ‘How about the jaw too?’ Says Becky in badass fashion as she eyes up her opponent for her next attack. Chloe starts darting forward, ‘break my jaw! Your gonna get your ass handed to you now latina!’ Becky then leverages one leg on top of the bed, back turned to Chloe, jumps up just before Chloe grabs her again, rotating mid jump in elegant fashion, forming a sprawling knee with her other leg, and grabs Chloes head, pulling her into the knee that crashes into Chloes face, sounding a CRACK from Chloes jaw! Becky lands in a feline-like position on all fours, and turns behind to check whether that was enough for her rival. Chloe was hardly conscious, cradling her hand on her nose and jaw. It clearly was enough; she wasn’t foolish enough to get back up. Becky lay down and caught her breath. She had taken a beating, but nonetheless, the electric spark of physical victory and conquering of her rival rushed through her. She let out a laugh. She was just able to prove her feminine superiority over her villainous enemy! ‘I almost feel sorry for u Chloe’ remarks Becky, ‘but I told you, the better woman wins’ and with that, Becky leaves, victorious.

I feel like this pathetic imitation of my normal self. I initiated the breakup but he forced my hand. I didn't recognise this cold, aloof man anymore. He treated me like a princess. Now he treats me with utter contempt. My heart is broken. Initally I was relieved and coping well. But now 4 days have past and I saw him back on Tinder.
I hadn't cried in 2 days and now I can't stop. I got weak and asked for a hug and a cuddle. He said he didn't want to ,he was too tired. I said OK and then sobbed and sobbed in my room. He heard me and took pity on me and asked me to come cuddle, but I could tell he didn't want to. I felt gross. I just wanted someone, anyone, to comfort me but it was midnight and our roommates were in bed by now. I can't understand why he went from adoring me to seeing me as a nuisance. I miss it so much. I worry this is me, men think I'm great until they get to know me. I want my self respect back. I know I made the right decision and this situation further proves it. How do I get my dignity back?
TLDR: acted weak in front of my ex. How do I pretend to be strong?

Escape The Night PvE w/PvP Zones NO KOS 1PP Raiding Trader Keycards
IP: 51.81.221.168:7915
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This Is A PvE-PvP Survival Server. NO KOS In PvE Zones. Go To A PvP Zone (Red Circle On Map) To PvP. Modded Survival With Traders Keycards, Blackmarket, Airdrops, ATM, Hideouts, Bed-Respawning, Base Building/Raiding.
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So there were three days where we went on a short holiday with one of my friend, his girlfriend and my girlfriend. They had an argument, I did not fully take one's side and now it's getting worse.
The story :
One day, me and my girlfriend wanted to go spend a week-end on holiday, two hours away from where we live. I suggested we invited one of my friends and his girlfriend, who my girlfriend had known at the time and was getting along with. At first, she was reluctant because she had a lot of work and was willing to go only if she was allowed to work. I tried to convince her, and we agreed to go with them.
From now on, here are the names I'll use (not real names) : my (20) gf is Gabrielle, 20, and we've been together for a year and a half. My friend is Josh, 21, and I've known him for 8 years, and his gf is Hannah, 20, and they've been together for something like 6 months.
The plan was as follows : go get Gabrielle 45 mins away from our home town, get some groceries, then drive to the destination for two hours. Upon arrival, I realized I had the wrong keys, so I had to awkwardly apologize, call my parents to let them know, and go to another apartment for which I had the keys. The next day, we met with my uncle who was also spending a few days near us and had the keys to the first apartment. We headed back to the initial place, spent a day there and got back home.
Here is what went wrong :
First thing, of course, I had forgotten the key, which clearly started things wrong, I know that. Gabrielle was angry because I was not taking action fast enough and not apologizing, since I did not know how to react at first.
After that, we had to cook for dinner, which went fine, we had a drink and headed to bed. The next morning, Gabrielle had to work, but we had just finished eating breakfast and were doing some kid's puzzles for fun. She told me she was not happy about it because she didn't have enough room on the table and it was too noisy. She thought we should have either been more quiet or go do something on our own, since we agreed she had to work. After 30 minutes or so, Josh and Hannah went to their bedroom and I had to do the dishes on my own. When they got back, they helped put about a plate and a fork in place at best, so not much help from them.
During the day, we met with my uncle, and headed to the second apartment. We got our stuff out of the car, set everything up and ate some left-overs for dinner. I don't quite remember what happened during the afternoon, but I know it wasn't that interesting, it was pouring and Gabrielle was working.
In the evening, no one was starting to cook dinner. Gabrielle was hungry and as she finished working, she came in the living room asking why no one was getting dinner ready. Josh and Hannah started cooking, and I cleaned the area, dressed the table, etc.
Dinner was taking way too long to get done (everyone agrees on that), which Gabrielle was not happy about later on. When she came back one hour later, she started handling the cooking since it was too slow. After dinner, everyone headed to bed because of how late it was.
The next morning, I was again doing all the dishes of the previous day alone. At the point, Gabrielle was getting mad because it was not an environment in which she was able to work, and Josh and Hannah were way too chill for her. She needed to have a more stable schedule (not eat super late, not have to play the mom for things to get done, etc). I told her that she had to work and they wanted to relax, and everyone wanted to spend their holiday how they pleased. She had to understand that they wanted to relax, and they had to understand that she had to work.
Josh and Hannah woke up very late, pretty much ate breakfast instead of dinner, and it messed up the entire schedule. At this point, we hadn't gone out at all, didn't check anything out (even though we knew the area pretty well) and Gabrielle was getting fed up. In the afternoon, we had an argument, and she decided she wanted to go back home by train (which would almost take 4 hours). We were planning on leaving at around 5.30pm, and it was 2pm. I told her it was not a good choice, and she told me she was tired of Josh and Hannah not helping around and generally us not being responsible.
We were arguing outside and when we got back to the apartment, Josh and Hannah had not done much to clean the place : they basically packed their own stuff and that's it. They said they were heading outside for a walk since we did the same and came back 20 minutes later.
When they left, Gabrielle was basically raging. She screamed loudly that my friends are assholes, they fucked up the holiday, she didn't want to see them again, she was not going on holiday with them again, etc. I said I understood and agreed that they didn't help much but she didn't have to scream like this. For context : she started screaming when Josh and Hannah left the place, so they heard her for a few seconds while walking down the stairs.
A few minutes after they came back, she packed her bags. She was about to go get the first commute to the nearest station, and Josh asked her why she didn't even say goodbye. She did, said sorry for not saying it and that she was very mad about what they did. I walked with her to her commute and she left.
I got back to the apartment and told Josh and Hannah that she was fed up of all this. Josh said that she had to calm down and asked me how our relationship was going. I said that even I did not know, since she often gets mad (not as hard as she did during the holidays though) and it feels like we do not understand each other. We discussed a bit, cleaned the apartment and headed outside to leave.
At this point, I asked Gabrielle where she was at. She said she and the people around her had missed the train since the doors were closed and no one could open them. I suggested we come pick her up, since she had 4 hours of train to do and we only had 2 hours by car. I asked Josh if he was okay since he was the one driving, he said yes but that he wasn't pleased about it. We picked her up and got back home.
[FAST FORWARD 1 MONTH LATER TO TODAY]
My group of friends are heading out tonight, and Josh said he wasn't feeling like inviting Gabrielle until this was sorted out. He asked me if I wanted to join the message group since Gabrielle wasn't on it. I said yes but that I didn't know what to do at this point. I didn't read the messages and waited for the week-end to talk to Gabrielle about it (she studies in another city and her week was already stressful enough).
Gabrielle is still mad that they made a group without her, which I understand to be honest. I probably shouldn't have joined it. She's saying I shouldn't go out with them because I should be on her side, or that I should bring up the subject if I go out. I told her that I didn't think bringing this up with the group was a good idea, but she's really mad that I did not defend her more.
She has already had a discussion with Josh where they argued. They then had another discussion a few hours later and she said it was somewhat sorted out. She apologized for getting so mad, but he didn't quite apologize for not helping around.
My point of view is that I don't want to fully take one's side. I think she shouldn't have screamed bad stuff about Josh and Hannah, that they should have helped more and we generally should have been better organized. I don't want to sacrifice Gabrielle for my friends, and I don't want to sacrifice my friends for Gabrielle.
She's still mad at me for not being on her side, and according to her, being on her side doesn't mean I must think she was right to be so mad. Pretty much like a kid engaging a fight and the other kid defending himself : taking the second's kid side doesn't mean you think he should have hit back, but I don't see how this resembles our situation.
TL;DR : my girlfriend is mad that I didn't take her side in an argument with my friends. I don't think I should have fully taken either's side and she's mad about it.
What are you guys' opinion ? Should I have been more on her side ? How should I have reacted ? What have I done wrong ? How can I repair the damage ?

I feel like this pathetic imitation of my normal self. I initiated the breakup but he forced my hand. I didn't recognise this cold, aloof man anymore. He treated me like a princess. Now he treats me with utter contempt. My heart is broken. Initally I was relieved and coping well. But now 4 days have past and I saw him back on Tinder.
I hadn't cried in 2 days and now I can't stop. I got weak and asked for a hug and a cuddle. He said he didn't want to ,he was too tired. I said OK and then sobbed and sobbed in my room. He heard me and took pity on me and asked me to come cuddle, but I could tell he didn't want to. I felt gross. I just wanted someone, anyone, to comfort me but it was midnight and our roommates were in bed by now. I can't understand why he went from adoring me to seeing me as a nuisance. I miss it so much. I worry this is me, men think I'm great until they get to know me. I want my self respect back. I know I made the right decision and this situation further proves it. How do I get my dignity back?

Hello, I have bought a Mariner 2.5hp four stroke (new) that weighs 18kg. I want to put it on a 1970s wooden Mirror dinghy, which is a 10 foot pram bow design.
The transom is made from 5mm ply. The boat is built using the stitch and glue method. The back of the boat on the inside consists mostly of a buoyancy tank that one sits on when on the tiller. The transom rises only a few inches above this deck, so there's not much room for strengthening above the deck, though can be done.
I have seen a suggestion where I could cut a hole in the top of the buoyancy tank and put in an access hatch, then inside the tank epoxy in a strengthening strip of marine ply along the bottom of the transom where it attaches to the bottom hull, one on each side of the centre line. Horizontal reinforcement, not vertical. Then screw an external transom strengthening plate (vertical strip) into this internal strip through the transom.
Now, I have zero carpentry skills (I still bought a wooden boat though lol), and I am not confident in my ability to even install an access hatch in the deck, let alone the reinforcement.
I wonder if I can avoid the internal strengthening by simply mounting the external strengthening plate that runs all the way down to the bottom hull. And of course strengthening the inside of the transom ABOVE the deck on the inside too, so the inside of the clamps have something strong to get hold of.
Any thoughts on this stuff, any useful links anyone can provide, I'd appreciate. I am a novice sailor to boot. While I would probably like to actually sail with the mast up one day with the motor on board, I'm more interested in using the outboard without the mast (motor cruising on Norfolk broads and UK rivers with my kid), for now.
Here's the forum post describing the inside strengthening idea I talk about above (Kevin Shields post):
http://ukmirrorsailing.com/index.php?option=com_kunena&view=topic&Itemid=274&catid=2&id=9041#9328

I am a second semester freshman this school year, and I am sharing a room with someone (let’s call him J) I’ve never met before. I have been J’s roommate since the beginning of last semester and his behavior has been persistent the whole time. He doesn’t seem to care about his school work, and constantly lives as if no one else is in the room. At the beginning of the year, we set up a “contract” required by the school to help us get along. This lays out things such as how we expect to act towards each other and our things, what we will share and not share, when the lights can be on or off and how we will keep the room clean. At the end, I added a statement that basically said some rules (such as the ones that have been stated above) are discretionary, but we must verbally agree on a change for that day or week. It also stated that we could add or remove rules throughout the year if we verbally agree. We agreed that if any issues arises, we would tell each other and fix it. J also never talks or responds to me, he has said maybe 5 sentences to me since the first time I saw him. He also sleeps 12-14 hours a day, his wake hours being 6p - 6a overnight. He never goes to class and only leaves the room to get food or take tests. Something here that’s important to remember, is that he has disregarded all of the rules we put together even after I reminded him of it. Here’s some key events:

1. (Our school has a roach problem, and our dorm is connected to the dining hall, making it slightly more prone to infestation). J would constantly leave half eaten food sitting out on the counter, leave greasy spots everywhere and spill over his trash on the floor. The spilled trash would sometimes have liquids, making the floor sticky. All of this would be left this way for days at a time, until I would tell him (in a very respectful manner) that it needs to be picked up, reminding him of the contract. The breaking point for me here was one day, I had climbed into my bed around midnight after a long say, and a roach ran over my chest and back into my sheets. As I’m trying to crush it on my bed, he laughed at me as if he didn’t cause it from his trash and food laying out. The next day, I sternly told him to clean up his shit while I go to the store to get roach spray, and it better be clean when I get back. When I got back, it was clean but he refused to spray the roach spray I had purchased with my money.
   
2. This kid smells. He showers maybe 2 or 3 times a week and it took him 2 weeks and 4 days to get a toothbrush. Air fresheners have a hard time working. My friends can’t even come in my dorm cause they say it smells that bad 😳. Honestly it’s so embarrassing. He also wears his clothes for long periods of time, so they’re really stinky when they sit in his hamper for 2-3 weeks at a time.
   
3. He plays video games at night before I go to bed, and there’s no problem with that. He talks to people sometimes and honestly I could care less. I’m glad he has fun. It becomes an issue after midnight, the curfew time we set. He doesn’t chat after that time but he plays games that flash a lot, so it becomes very difficult to sleep. I’m writing this at 4:30am cause I can’t sleep due to the flashing. I put a tarp around my bed to try and mitigate the issue but it doesn’t work well. He doesn’t seem to care and isn’t willing to turn his desk or compromise in any way. He also gets visibly frustrated with me (but won’t say anything) when I make any sort of noise that wakes him up during a regular time to be awake like 2 pm.
   
4. He’s stollen stuff from me and looks through my stuff. (I think he looks through my stuff). He stole a gift card and lied about it, but I knew where he put it and exposed him so he gave it back. He’s also stolen pencils and pens. Not expensive, but I never said he could use them or permanently take them. Lots of my stuff also seems to shift around and I’m pretty sure it’s cause he dig through my things, but I can’t fully prove it’s him. My stuff just seems to shift around frequently without me remembering moving it.
   
5. I’m all for people having their own beliefs and living their own lifestyle, but in this situation it makes me uncomfortable. I’m a Catholic, and I put crucifixes and religious items on my side of the room. He hangs up things on his side of the room that my beliefs don’t always align with, but that’s his half of the room so I’m okay with it. What makes me uncomfortable is when he wears/ buys things that directly attack my faith. I know he’s doing it intentionally because I was hesitant to put religious items out for a few weeks, and none of his items turned up until I had put my religious stuff out. Every time I add an item, he seems to add one or two more. This is also an issue because our rules say we will respect each other and our life styles even if we didn’t support it.
   

These are just the main things that seem to happen, but there is much, much more. I’m hesitant to say this, but I think he has a history of mental health problems, so I try to keep some of this to myself because I don’t want to but a larger burden on him. It just becomes very difficult because all of this starts to take a toll on me after a while. I’ve tried to talk to him about issues that there’s been, but he straight up ignores me or puts his headphones back on while I’m talking to him. I know that many people have a bad freshman year roommate experience but I just can’t imagine it being this bad all of the time. I’m not sure what to do to improve the situation? I’m cool with anything you think of.
Forgot to mention that the RA and HRA have got involved and J doesn’t seem to care. He won’t change. I cannot change rooms, I requested and they declined. There’s no change without special permission I cannot obtain.
TLDR: Roommate doesn’t follow any rules we set at the beginning of the year. He’s caused many issues in our room such as roaches, not respecting me and my religion, preventing me from sleeping and showing anger towards me for making even a small noise in the afternoon because he wants to sleep.
Idk what to do to help the situation. Any advice?

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Hi everyone,
Im in the UK and have just agreed to move into my first place in a couple of weeks. I have decent sized tv but have always used the built-in-speakers as the tv has essentially been at the base of my bed.
Now that im moving out, the tv is going to be the main screen in the front room and part of me wants a decent sound system in place. Surround sound would be amazing but not sure how feasible it is. I do like to make music occassionally on my pc too, i have good headphones but would be a bonus if I could use this new system for that too (again, not sure how feasible this is).
I guess my budget would be around £300ish.. Ive found this system online but havent heard amazing things about it, the price looks very good though:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sony-HT-S40R-Soundbar-Subwoofer-Wireless/dp/B08YNYG35J/ref=mp_s_a_1_3?crid=AUJBKCRUKIYD&keywords=ht-s40r&qid=1679824631&sprefix=ht-s40r%2Caps%2C201&sr=8-3
I do have a few questions about sound systems in general, i think ive read the basics but just need some clarification:
1) Do home theatre systems generally consist of a receiver, a subwoofer, and 2+ speakers (depending on the system like 2.1, 5.1 etc)?
2) can you mix and match speakers? I know going by the same brand is recommended but is there some naming convention/standardisation so you know whats compatible with what? If i want to assemble my own system instead of a predesigned one that i linked above, how do I know its all compatible?
3) can I use studio monitors as home theatre speakers? The only way I would get music speakers at the moment is if they could double up as my main home theatre speakers.
4) i know my budget is quite low. Im guessing, realistically, Id be limited to a 2.1 system?
5) for this price point, should i just get a decent sound bar and call it a day?

Hello I have a 6.5 month old mini poodle and for the past week she has been keeping me up all night barking. My bedroom door leads right out to my apt living room and she sleeps at the end of my bed and can basically see my livingroom area and front door. Every night she will bark out at the livingroom like something is there. I go out turn the lights on to look and nothing. She will sit there and bark and then I will walk with her to the direction she’s barking at and she will walk to it and walk toward a different area and bark. Could she be seeing soemthing im not? She started doing this about a week ago…idk what to do this is new behavior but it’s so irritating. Any advice on what I can do…