Whole foods san mateo

I'm getting to ready to move out pretty soon and I'm terrified. I know better than to tell my mom and ask for help, but doing something so major behind her back after I tried so hard to be good my whole life is really scary. It's doubly hard because I don't have a car or a license, she forbade me from pursuing these things sooner specifically so I couldn't leave. Now she's wanting to help me with a car and I'm in knots about it, I know that even if I accept the help, anything I receive will be held over my head. I'm worried about leaving because I still have those ideas in my head about not being capable, and even though I'm miserable and depressed here, I know I'll always have food, water and safety. I know how badly I need to leave if I want to heal but I honestly don't even believe that anything bad happened to me and feel like I'm just overreacting on the inside. If you moved out, how did it go? how did you feel about it? How did you change afterwards? And how much help were you comfortable accepting from parents?

I contacted UberEats because there was a missing item. Customer was supposed to have some funnel cake but...they were out. I had the entirety of the order and was on my way to deliver it to the customer. Everytime something like this happens, I make sure to call support just in case the customer doesn't remember to call. Support says, Ok I need to reach out to the restaurant to verify this and I'll be right back. No problem, I'll just continue driving to the customers location, take your time.
​
She comes back on the line and IMMEDIATLY the order cancels!
Support - So since the order is missing an item I have cancelled the item for you.
Me - No No NO....I'm en route to the customer right now with their food!
Support - Ohh Ok Well in that case, could you continue to deliver the order?
Me - Hold on a second....How am I supposed to deliver this without an address?
Support - Let me call the customer and make sure it's ok for me to give you their address.
Me - ... Ok, I'll just pull over and wait...
I'm pretty pissed at this point...because I already know where this is going...Uber has been pulling some REALLY shady stuff on me lately which has caused me to take screenshots of EVERY order, but that's a whole other story. She get's back on the phone and gives me the address to the customer.
Me - Ok Cool, so before I proceed, am going to get FULL compensation of $5.05 + $8.00 TIP?
Support - Yes, we will make sure that you get full compensation of $13.05. In addition I will add $5 compensation for all of your trouble with this order. Just make sure that you call us after the order has been completed and have the customer call us as well.
Me - Absolutely. Thank you.
​
I completely fulfilled my obligations and then didn't see any update to my wallet.
40 minutes goes by and I call. They tell me that I only got paid so much because I cancelled the order. I wouldn't be getting the tip and there is no reason for compensation to be added to this order. Even after I explained the situation about the order, she proceeds to tell me that the representative didn't cancel the order, "I" cancelled it.
​
I contacted another representative directly through Chat on the app. They took a very long time responding to my messages and then once they pulled up the right "Copy Paste" they were a typing savant. Something along the lines of "Sometimes a Earner will earn more than what a Customer pays and other times, it will be less." You know...just latch onto one word and then send a script. I casually explained that this isn't a matter of confusion on my end, it's a matter of a representative giving me false information in order for me to complete an order that was messed up through no fault of my own. He proceeded to apologize immensely but cut the chat off when I asked who I could contact about this issue to discuss it further. That's when he tells me a specialized team member will contact me by email and then cut the chat...
​
I have a really good feeling that I will never see that money. But...traight up lying to get an order delivered is probably the lowest thing that I can think of. I've had so much crazy stuff pulled by these companies...but I've never been lied to in order to cover for a mistake that a representative made. Feels really...gross..

“What have you found, Stryder?” asks Oganessian as he is standing in the command center of an Eraconi Invasion Support Craft, a flying military and logistics base and one of the largest craft built by the draconic Eraconi.
A wireframe image of the planet with dots scattered across its surface appears on the vertical, transparent glass screen at the center of the room, “They have InterPlanetary Ballistic Missile silos and anti-air turrets placed across the surface.”
“Those are rather accurate scans,” comments the red scaled General Allgemein, “How’d you get them so quickly?”
“My creators' sensors are far more advanced than anything you can imagine,” answers Stryder, an organic supercomputer built two million years ago by a long extinct race, “I’ve considered putting them on your vessels, however they are incompatible without designing and building a new vessel from scratch.”
“I see.” Nods Allgemein, “Just one of those IPBM’s can destroy a warship, and forget about landing an army with those cannons.”
“You could throw asteroids at them.” Suggests Oganessian, “Something I never did, as it was a waste of valuable resources, but it would be effective.”
“From what your machine has told us, that planet is the primary source of food for the Hr’Haing. Food that we could use ourselves,” retorts Allgemein.
“Titan has a few squadrons of escorts and tactical bombers left back home from before the switch to missile systems.” suggests the human, “They may not have long range FTL drives but they can still cross a system. You can use them to selectively eliminate the silos and AA guns.”
"We'll accept them, but they would be better as support." Denies Allgemein, "Does your machine have any ideas?"
Stryder taps her chin with an insectoid leg before answering, "It's likely these silos are networked. For missions like this my creators would send an infiltrator and upload it with an AI to land, sneak through a base, insert itself into the network, and rewrite it to obey them."
"The only AI we have is you," argues Ogane, "You're too valuable to risk."
Stryder releases a hiss, her version of a sigh, "Your thinking of me like a human, which is charming don't get me wrong, but I'm a computer program. A program that can be copied and uploaded as needed, the whole process takes mere seconds."
"Sounds like a plan!" Calls Allgemein with a smile.
"I'll get started right away!" Calls Stryder as she sends a message to the ship.
Minutes later Stryder asks, "I've sent the infiltrator, do you want me to route the feed through your display?"
"Procede." Nods Allgemein.
A camera feed appears on the display that shows the view of the infiltrator just as its heatshield burns away on the night side of the world. After a free fall the centipede-like machine opens a pair of diaphanous wings within the walls of a military base and flies to a wall over a door. There it waits for a flatworm-esque Hr'Haing to open the door so it can crawl in and on to the ceiling, thermal scanners reading doors, Stryder explains that it's looking for an unusually cold room. After a quick hide from a soldier that happened to look in just the right spot the infiltrator finds its target. Sneaking through a vent it enters a large server farm. Jumping from server to server it finds the one that connects to the silos and gets to work. Once its mission is complete it escapes the base before self immolating in the farmland beyond.
"And I've received a return ping," cheers Stryder, "A copy of myself is now inhabiting their military network. You may launch your invasion."
"Do they have a nation spanning network like we do? And can you access it?" Asks Allgemein.
"Of course they're primitive!" Answers Stryder.
"Good send this speech through to every connected device then scramble both networks." Orders Allgemein.
On a cargo port, which doubles as military command for the system, over the planet a Hr'haing named Tinatini is idly tapping on the touchscreen on his desk with a whip-like tentacle when the screen goes black and is filled with the visage of a red scaled Eraconi.
"Hello from Zycie. For too long have you filthy worms kept us contained, destroying our science ships and pilfering the wealth of our system, but not anymore for your reign is now at an end! We have placed an outpost in the outer reaches of the Soplis Meurneoba System, by your laws we now own the system and as far as we're concerned there is an infestation to clear out!"
Rushing to the command center buried deep within the station, Tinatini calls out, "Report!"
"P’olk’ovnik’i Tinatini!" Jumps Leit’enant’i Pridon with a sloppy salute, "A fleet of unknown vessels have just appeared on the scopes. The only things the computer can identify are Fusion Thermal Drives and Human FTL technology. What are your orders?"
He lets out a gurgling growl, "Humanity has been hiding in their own system for five hundred years, and selling tech to primitives is the first thing they do. Raise the IPBMs. Target the Eraconi! We'll deal with humanity later."
With a nod Pridon's tentacles dance over the screen inputting commands with impressive speed, however after confirming launch the display is replaced by an insectoid face which speaks in a cheery tone, "Looks like you're trying to launch missiles, unfortunately your network is unavailable. Please try again… Never! Hope your affairs are in order!"
Glancing at the screen Tinatini sighs, "Our tiny anti piracy fleet doesn't stand a chance. Evacuate the station and send the fleet to Sakhlshi, we can only hope to hold them at Terminus until help arrives."
"Should we use the space elevator to get down to Terminus?" Asks Uprosi Serzhant’i Zaal, the head of the non-commissioned and enlisted soldiers.
"It's too slow, stick to escape vehicles and auxiliary craft." Orders Tinatini.
With a salute Zaal sounds the alarm and departs.
Safely away from the station Tinatini glances out the window of his shuttle in time to see a swarm of missiles strike the elevator which, like a taut rope, snaps a portion swinging towards its counterweight and cleaving through the toroidal cargo station. Unable to maintain integrity the spinning station shatters flinging debris at high speeds in every direction. As the grounded portion of the elevator snaps downward it, and the debris shrouding it, destroys the few late departures as it passes his shuttle, and onward to wrap one and a half times around the green world below, crushing anything built on or near the equator.
The knowledge that the only things crushed will be hyperloops, crops, livestock, and the narrow portions of Terminus directly below the elevator, does bring a sweet bit of relief to Tinatini's mind as his shuttle spirals towards the only city on this verdant world.

Any San Antonio newbies (like me) looking for new friends to explore the city with? In my early 30s, no kids, and work in healthcare. Enjoy travel, going out for food/drinks, concerts, hanging at the pool…looking to get some things checked off of my San Antonio “bucket list.”

What you are about to read is both a confession and an apology. I don't know how much time I have so I will keep it as short as I can. I was coming back home from work a few nights ago. It was dark and I was tired from my shift when suddenly a deer ran out in front of my truck. I locked my brakes but couldn't stop in time. Feeling my heart pounding I just sat in my truck, staring at the motionless deer laying in the middle of the road. I had never killed anything before, intentionally or accidentally. As much as I wanted to get home, take a shower and go to bed, I couldn't just let it lay there. Someone could run it over causing real damage to their undercarriage or, God forbid, they swerve to avoid it and end up falling over a hundred feet into the river below, hitting dozens of trees on the way down. I couldn't let that be on my conscience, so I did what the good lord Jesus would have done. I put on my emergency lights and got out of the truck to pull the carcass off the road. However, as I was doing this I saw something move in the deers lower gut. Seeing this made my heart sink because at the time I thought maybe the dead deer was going to give birth. While holding in a gag and pulling the body to get it off the road, whatever was in the deer crawled out of its… backside, ran up the leg I was holding onto and bit my hand. It was too fast and the night was too dark so I have no idea what it could have been. Instinctively I flung the creature off of me and heard it scamper away through the grass. Wondering what the hell just attacked me, I inspected the wound. The wound produced very little blood and looked no worse than what a cat would do when it plays a little too roughly. Since my heart was pounding out of my chest and I had most of the deer carcass off the road, I figured I had done my duty and it was time to head home. As soon as I got home, I barely had the energy to take off my clothes, so all hopes I had of taking a shower were lost and as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light. The next morning I felt sluggish and cold. My teeth were chattering violently. It reminded me of a flu, however my nose wasn’t stuffed up and I wasn’t congested. The wound on my hand was red, but not swollen. Still, I was worried and made a call to set up a doctor's appointment. Thankfully I was able to get seen right away, however after the exam the doctor said he could find nothing wrong with me but the blood tests would take a few days before the results would come in. I am not the kind of person to tell someone how to do their job, especially if their job meant years of education and twice that many having their own practice. However I made it clear that I strongly disagreed with what the doctor said. When I got home, my stomach was complaining. I ate shortly before getting off work the day before so there was no reason for my stomach to complain as much as it was. I tried eating soup but it tasted like fermenting compost. No joke, that's what it tasted like. When I checked the expiration date, I was surprised that it still had eight months left before it was considered bad. At the time I figured that whatever was wrong with me was affecting my senses. My grandma said that 7Up and ginger ale was as close to magic as it gets when it comes to being sick, but since I didn't have any in the house, I made a few calls and had it delivered. However, that too tasted bad. My stomach kept complaining so in an attempt to silence it, I decided to make something that I could never resist. My moms specialty: meatloaf. If nothing else, it was comfort food and my favorite as a kid. Lo and behold, it tasted amazing. However when I tried adding ketchup like I always did, I nearly gagged from the smell of it. I ended up eating all of it in a single sitting and afterwards I felt really good. So good in fact that I decided to head into town to pick up a few groceries. As I walked around with the shopping cart, going down the same aisles as I always did, the items I usually got held no appeal. I love bananas, but they smelt like they had been soaking in gasoline for a few days, the vegetables stank of curdled milk and the cheese might as well have been… Well, I’ll let you imagine what that smelt like. The only thing that smelt good was the meat. No, it didnt smell good. It smelt divine, the way I imagine heaven smells like. I filled up my cart with hamburger, chicken breasts, pork chops, pork butt, whole turkeys, chicken legs, ribs, spiral hams, bacon, hotdogs and so much more. People looked at me funny as I went to pay for the items and some even asked if I was planning on having a cookout. I am ashamed to admit it, but I snapped at those people and told them it wasn't any of their business. When I got home I felt sick again and decided that some pork chops were in order. As I started to get everything ready, I opened the cream of mushroom and the smell that emerged from the can made me throw up in the sink. Later I checked the expiration date and saw that it still had a few months to go. The can wasn’t dented or punctured, so there was no reason for it to smell rancid. I cooked the pork chops plain only adding a little olive oil on the bottom of the glassware so it wouldn't stick. The wait seemed to take forever. At some point before the pork chops were done I found myself mindlessly eating away at the raw hamburger. Taking grape sized pinches here and there. I knew it was disgusting, but I couldn't stop myself. Each bite hit the spot and scratched an itch I didn't know I had. By this time it was after office hours but I called the general practitioner to see if there were any updates. All the while, I kept eating the raw meat. I was too embarrassed to tell them about my new eating habits and instead sounded like an idiot when I had nothing to say other than to ask about the blood test, which I knew the results would be in sometime next week. Because of this I could tell the person on the other line was annoyed. I spent the rest of the day eating and worrying. I must have paced for a few miles before I decided to go to bed. At the time I figured that I might be able to sleep off whatever was happening to me, and if this was not to be it would make the day that the blood test comes in arrive faster. However I couldn't go a few hours without food before the cravings made me wake up and rummage through the fridge. I blacked out at some point during the night and found myself outside at the wooden fence, trying to bait the neighbor's cat with a raw chicken leg that I already ate half of. I was scared. Paranoid that whatever bit my hand might have given me something really nasty. But I knew that worrying about it wasn't going to do me any favors so I decided to do what I normally do to clear my head and went for a drive. Usually this would have worked, but my stomach kept complaining. I had been eating for nearly a day straight, so I knew I wasn't hungry. What else could I do other than wait for the blood test to come back? Trying to distract myself, I decided to turn on the radio and listen to one of the three radio stations that worked in town. As I was fumbling with the knobs in my old beat up truck, I turned the corner and saw a man walking across the street to get his mail. I hit the brakes as hard as I could, but it was too little too late and he bounced off the grill and went flying through the air. Terrified, I ran out to see if there was anything I could do to help him, but when I drew close I could see that he was all sorts of messed up. A broken shoulder, wrist and his leg was bent at a horrible angle. He was conscious and asked me to give him a ride to the hospital because he would not be able to afford the bill for an ambulance. However, that was when I noticed that the femur was sticking out of his leg. I licked my lips and before I knew it I started biting and eating around the bone as the man screamed, and in his condition he was unable to get away or fight me off. I don't know how much time passed, but at some point I became aware that people were starting to gather. All of them were too shocked to do anything but stare. Embarrassed and terrified, I ran to the truck and drove off. It wasn't like I could go anywhere. Since Gray Hill is a small town, most of the onlookers knew who I was. So I did the only thing I could think of and went home. There is so much more I want to say, but I don't have much time. The sirens are getting louder. I am sorry. WAE

Sorry in advance for the long post, but I feel I need to give full context I am 18 and doing summer classes, which they are paying for, and will be taking fall classes(free through scholarship) this year. I have been applying to jobs and hopefully will get one soon, especially since I have more credentials (working my ass of high school year and getting certifications and such). HOWEVER, my parents have a joint account with me that we created when I was a minor, they take my money(have taken over a 1000 dollars) and refuse to give it back for bs reasons, and have made it clear that they will not stop taking out my money since I haven't "proven" myself yet. To most people, the solution seems simple, "stop being ungrateful, your parents pay for everything", and while I am extremely grateful to have food on my plate, clothes on my back, and a place to sleep, my parents are extremely strict, and have made it clear that now that I am 18, if I dont obey them completely or piss them off in any sort of way they legally have no obligation to feed me, clothe me, or even give me a place to live. This wouldnt be a problem if they didnt keep taking my money so I would actually be able to afford my own food, clothes, and place to live. So far its only been 2000 plus a couple extra here and there, but once I get a stable source of income, it will escalate. It will start of with 6000, "we're just holding on to it so you dont spend it all, 10,000, "we are investing it in the stock market and will give it back to you when you *really* need it", my entire savings "we are your parents, were just doing whats best for you, its not like you need it anyways since you are living under our roof rent free". And once again, I know that I am lucky to have a place to live in a decent neighborhood, theres no denying that it is their house and they dont have any obligation to let me live there and they are just being generous, I dont have a problem with that, if they want to kick me out they have that right since they have no obligation to take care of me, what I DO have a problem with is taking *MY* hard earned money for bs reasons then complaining that I dont have enough money and that i'm not developing my money saving skills, which I cant even develop if they constantly take away my money. I'm being kept on a leash, and holding their generosity to let me stay over my head and taking away any other options. They said that they dont want me moving out for the next couple of years. My previous plan was to work and save up enough money to leave, I was under a fantasy that they would give my money back, let me open my own account without any sort of threats or fights, and help me/support me with the move in process, but after they've come clean about what they're really using my money for (investing in the stock market) and that they have no plans to give it back or stop taking what is mine, I have no other choice but to take out student loans. Will I be able to take out student loans during the fall semester, is it through fasfa? Can I even do that since I am still technically dependent on my parents. Will they take into account my parents income knowing that they wont be financially supporting me? I've already filled out my fasfa with my parents so I could do the summer college courses, so can I even take out loans? (I didnt get any money from fasfa btw, grant, loan, or otherwise). Can I just walk into my colleges financial aid center, ask for a student loan, get the money and walk out? I know i'll have to create my own bank account, but that might start a fight so I need to do it when I am 100 percent certain of my plan. I dont have a car but I can always use uber, and I do have a drivers license. I know I should be grateful but I cant live like this! Constantly worrying if when I come home my shit will be thrown out on the street and I wont be let inside because i'm "not doing good enough in class" or "not adhering by our impossible rules". To make things worse, they are hardcore conservatives and i'm gay, trans, and a whole bunch of other shit that they constantly complain and say I cant be as long as I am living under their roof. And when I say they are homophobic and transphobic I mean *hardcore* kick you out of the house kind.

What you are about to read is both a confession and an apology. I don't know how much time I have so I will keep it as short as I can. I was coming back home from work a few nights ago. It was dark and I was tired from my shift when suddenly a deer ran out in front of my truck. I locked my brakes but couldn't stop in time. Feeling my heart pounding I just sat in my truck, staring at the motionless deer laying in the middle of the road. I had never killed anything before, intentionally or accidentally. As much as I wanted to get home, take a shower and go to bed, I couldn't just let it lay there. Someone could run it over causing real damage to their undercarriage or, God forbid, they swerve to avoid it and end up falling over a hundred feet into the river below, hitting dozens of trees on the way down. I couldn't let that be on my conscience, so I did what the good lord Jesus would have done. I put on my emergency lights and got out of the truck to pull the carcass off the road. However, as I was doing this I saw something move in the deers lower gut. Seeing this made my heart sink because at the time I thought maybe the dead deer was going to give birth. While holding in a gag and pulling the body to get it off the road, whatever was in the deer crawled out of its… backside, ran up the leg I was holding onto and bit my hand. It was too fast and the night was too dark so I have no idea what it could have been. Instinctively I flung the creature off of me and heard it scamper away through the grass. Wondering what the hell just attacked me, I inspected the wound. The wound produced very little blood and looked no worse than what a cat would do when it plays a little too roughly. Since my heart was pounding out of my chest and I had most of the deer carcass off the road, I figured I had done my duty and it was time to head home. As soon as I got home, I barely had the energy to take off my clothes, so all hopes I had of taking a shower were lost and as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light. The next morning I felt sluggish and cold. My teeth were chattering violently. It reminded me of a flu, however my nose wasn’t stuffed up and I wasn’t congested. The wound on my hand was red, but not swollen. Still, I was worried and made a call to set up a doctor's appointment. Thankfully I was able to get seen right away, however after the exam the doctor said he could find nothing wrong with me but the blood tests would take a few days before the results would come in. I am not the kind of person to tell someone how to do their job, especially if their job meant years of education and twice that many having their own practice. However I made it clear that I strongly disagreed with what the doctor said. When I got home, my stomach was complaining. I ate shortly before getting off work the day before so there was no reason for my stomach to complain as much as it was. I tried eating soup but it tasted like fermenting compost. No joke, that's what it tasted like. When I checked the expiration date, I was surprised that it still had eight months left before it was considered bad. At the time I figured that whatever was wrong with me was affecting my senses. My grandma said that 7Up and ginger ale was as close to magic as it gets when it comes to being sick, but since I didn't have any in the house, I made a few calls and had it delivered. However, that too tasted bad. My stomach kept complaining so in an attempt to silence it, I decided to make something that I could never resist. My moms specialty: meatloaf. If nothing else, it was comfort food and my favorite as a kid. Lo and behold, it tasted amazing. However when I tried adding ketchup like I always did, I nearly gagged from the smell of it. I ended up eating all of it in a single sitting and afterwards I felt really good. So good in fact that I decided to head into town to pick up a few groceries. As I walked around with the shopping cart, going down the same aisles as I always did, the items I usually got held no appeal. I love bananas, but they smelt like they had been soaking in gasoline for a few days, the vegetables stank of curdled milk and the cheese might as well have been… Well, I’ll let you imagine what that smelt like. The only thing that smelt good was the meat. No, it didnt smell good. It smelt divine, the way I imagine heaven smells like. I filled up my cart with hamburger, chicken breasts, pork chops, pork butt, whole turkeys, chicken legs, ribs, spiral hams, bacon, hotdogs and so much more. People looked at me funny as I went to pay for the items and some even asked if I was planning on having a cookout. I am ashamed to admit it, but I snapped at those people and told them it wasn't any of their business. When I got home I felt sick again and decided that some pork chops were in order. As I started to get everything ready, I opened the cream of mushroom and the smell that emerged from the can made me throw up in the sink. Later I checked the expiration date and saw that it still had a few months to go. The can wasn’t dented or punctured, so there was no reason for it to smell rancid. I cooked the pork chops plain only adding a little olive oil on the bottom of the glassware so it wouldn't stick. The wait seemed to take forever. At some point before the pork chops were done I found myself mindlessly eating away at the raw hamburger. Taking grape sized pinches here and there. I knew it was disgusting, but I couldn't stop myself. Each bite hit the spot and scratched an itch I didn't know I had. By this time it was after office hours but I called the general practitioner to see if there were any updates. All the while, I kept eating the raw meat. I was too embarrassed to tell them about my new eating habits and instead sounded like an idiot when I had nothing to say other than to ask about the blood test, which I knew the results would be in sometime next week. Because of this I could tell the person on the other line was annoyed. I spent the rest of the day eating and worrying. I must have paced for a few miles before I decided to go to bed. At the time I figured that I might be able to sleep off whatever was happening to me, and if this was not to be it would make the day that the blood test comes in arrive faster. However I couldn't go a few hours without food before the cravings made me wake up and rummage through the fridge. I blacked out at some point during the night and found myself outside at the wooden fence, trying to bait the neighbor's cat with a raw chicken leg that I already ate half of. I was scared. Paranoid that whatever bit my hand might have given me something really nasty. But I knew that worrying about it wasn't going to do me any favors so I decided to do what I normally do to clear my head and went for a drive. Usually this would have worked, but my stomach kept complaining. I had been eating for nearly a day straight, so I knew I wasn't hungry. What else could I do other than wait for the blood test to come back? Trying to distract myself, I decided to turn on the radio and listen to one of the three radio stations that worked in town. As I was fumbling with the knobs in my old beat up truck, I turned the corner and saw a man walking across the street to get his mail. I hit the brakes as hard as I could, but it was too little too late and he bounced off the grill and went flying through the air. Terrified, I ran out to see if there was anything I could do to help him, but when I drew close I could see that he was all sorts of messed up. A broken shoulder, wrist and his leg was bent at a horrible angle. He was conscious and asked me to give him a ride to the hospital because he would not be able to afford the bill for an ambulance. However, that was when I noticed that the femur was sticking out of his leg. I licked my lips and before I knew it I started biting and eating around the bone as the man screamed, and in his condition he was unable to get away or fight me off. I don't know how much time passed, but at some point I became aware that people were starting to gather. All of them were too shocked to do anything but stare. Embarrassed and terrified, I ran to the truck and drove off. It wasn't like I could go anywhere. Since Gray Hill is a small town, most of the onlookers knew who I was. So I did the only thing I could think of and went home. There is so much more I want to say, but I don't have much time. The sirens are getting louder. I am sorry. WAE

Woman late 30s, 5‘9“ tall, CW: 213lbs. GW: 175lbs. 10,000 steps per day, no other workouts. Using the Lose It! app and currently eating 1500 cal per day, with lots of homemade/whole foods.
I have a food scale, I have a Fitbit, and I love the Lose It! app! If I don’t eat a lot of candy (my biggest weakness) I am completely able to have three solid meals that do not leave me hungry at all. I do allow treats, and alcohol on very special occasions.
If I find that 1500 cal is not enough for me, I will go up to about 1700 cal. But for now it seems to be working and I’m not hungry or faint at all!
Really looking forward to losing about 40 pounds slowly and surely.
Edit: I forgot to mention, I’m getting all my thyroid levels tested, in-depth with a blood test. I had thyroid issues as a teenager but every test sense has been cursory and I feel like there’s something wrong with my energy levels and hormones. Worth looking into if you are struggling to lose weight!

Sorry in advance for the long post, but I feel I need to give full contextI am 18 and doing summer classes, which they are paying for, and will be taking fall classes(free through scholarship) this year. I have been applying to jobs and hopefully will get one soon, especially since I have more credentials (working my ass of high school year and getting certifications and such). HOWEVER, my parents have a joint account with me that we created when I was a minor, they take my money(have taken over a 1000 dollars) and refuse to give it back for bs reasons, and have made it clear that they will not stop taking out my money since I haven't "proven" myself yet. To most people, the solution seems simple, "stop being ungrateful, your parents pay for everything", and while I am extremely grateful to have food on my plate, clothes on my back, and a place to sleep, my parents are extremely strict, and have made it clear that now that I am 18, if I dont obey them completely or piss them off in any sort of way they legally have no obligation to feed me, clothe me, or even give me a place to live.This wouldnt be a problem if they didnt keep taking my money so I would actually be able to afford my own food, clothes, and place to live. So far its only been 2000 plus a couple extra here and there, but once I get a stable source of income, it will escalate. It will start of with 6000, "we're just holding on to it so you dont spend it all, 10,000, "we are investing it in the stock market and will give it back to you when you *really* need it", my entire savings "we are your parents, were just doing whats best for you, its not like you need it anyways since you are living under our roof rent free".
​
And once again, I know that I am lucky to have a place to live in a decent neighborhood, theres no denying that it is their house and they dont have any obligation to let me live there and they are just being generous, I dont have a problem with that, if they want to kick me out they have that right since they have no obligation to take care of me, what I DO have a problem with is taking *MY* hard earned money for bs reasons then complaining that I dont have enough money and that i'm not developing my money saving skills, which I cant even develop if they constantly take away my money. I'm being kept on a leash, and holding their generosity to let me stay over my head and taking away any other options. They said that they dont want me moving out for the next couple of years.My previous plan was to work and save up enough money to leave, I was under a fantasy that they would give my money back, let me open my own account without any sort of threats or fights, and help me/support me with the move in process, but after they've come clean about what they're really using my money for (investing in the stock market) and that they have no plans to give it back or stop taking what is mine,
​
I have no other choice but to take out student loans. Will I be able to take out student loans during the fall semester, is it through fasfa? Can I even do that since I am still technically dependent on my parents. Will they take into account my parents income knowing that they wont be financially supporting me? I've already filled out my fasfa with my parents so I could do the summer college courses, so can I even take out loans? (I didnt get any money from fasfa btw, grant, loan, or otherwise). Can I just walk into my colleges financial aid center, ask for a student loan, get the money and walk out? I know i'll have to create my own bank account, but that might start a fight so I need to do it when I am 100 percent certain of my plan. I dont have a car but I can always use uber, and I do have a drivers license. I know I should be grateful but I cant live like this! Constantly worrying if when I come home my shit will be thrown out on the street and I wont be let inside because i'm "not doing good enough in class" or "not adhering by our impossible rules". To make things worse, they are hardcore conservatives and i'm gay, trans, and a whole bunch of other shit that they constantly complain and say I cant be as long as I am living under their roof. And when I say they are homophobic and transphobic I mean *hardcore* kick you out of the house kind.

So this happened a few years ago, but it's something I still think about.
A few years ago I went to this multicultal festival in my country. It is a combination of a music festival, a (flea) market and a lot of stalls with different foods from around the world. The flea market had some people selling authentic African tribe stuff, some people selling authentic Asian cultural stuff, some charities selling stuff or you could give donations to them, etc
So I was walking around the flea market and I saw some holowed out cow horns. The person selling them was wearing authentic African tribe clothing and sold some authentic African tribe things. He did not speak my native languae (Dutch) and his English was not fantastic, but ok. I asked him how much he wanted for the pair of bull horns. He says 35 euros. So we agreed I took both bull horns and give him his money. But he refused and said: No no, 35 for each horn. i thought that was a bit much, so we had no deal. (We had a misunderstanding because of the language barrier I think)
So for the rest of the day I enjoyed the rest of the festival, bought some food, some drinks, bought a backpack from another seller,...
So at the end of the festival we pass by the flea market and all sellers are packing their stuff. So I pass the bull horns and say to the man: "You know, I'm still willing to pay 35 euros for the pair". Now he agrees (I think because the market was over and he didn't sell them) and we make a deal. I give him the money and he gives me the horns. As soon as I receive the horns, a white woman, also wearing traditional African clothing, comes running at me and starts swearing at me and says I'm a mayor A-hole. Turns out that the man was there because of a charity project. (Even though I saw absolutely no mention of that on his stall.) She says I need to pay more. She turns to the man and says in English: "You bought those yourself for 35 euros and you it took you a whole day to polish them. You basically worked for free!" She turns back to me and says I'm taking advantage of a charity, etc.
I was a bit shocked and said that I would return the horns if he gave back my money because: a) I dont have 70 euros with me anymore (because of my earlier purchases) b) I didn't know it was part of a charity c) They aren't worh 70 euros to me, the polishing was not needed for what I was gonna use them for. But the man says that he doesn't want to give me my money back and that I can keep the horns. So the man and woman start arguing for a while. After I while I told them that they had to choose. Give me my money back or else I'm leaving. The man keeps refusing to return the money, so I leave. While leaving the woman kept shouting names at me, and shaming me for taking advantage of a charity.
So am I the asshole here?
One last thing I want to mention, I saw multiple instances of people haggling at different stalls. I was a normal thing to do there and it was really not clear the seller was part of charity.
Edit: I think the woman was no bystander. I think she was part of the charity project. I think the charity brought him to Europa to let him make money from the things he made. But I'm not sure, because there was no mention of the charity at the stall and I deducted this from their squabbling.

Just for fun, I asked the exact same question to both and was surprised at just how bad Bing's answer was. It was astoundingly bad considering it uses gpt 4.
My question: "what is there to do in Cebu?"
ChatGPT 3.5's answer:
Cebu, a province in the Philippines, offers a wide range of activities and attractions for visitors. Here are some popular things to do in Cebu:
1. Visit historical landmarks: Explore the historical sites in Cebu City, such as Magellan's Cross, Basilica Minore del Santo Niño, Fort San Pedro, and Colon Street—the oldest street in the Philippines.
2. Island hopping: Cebu is surrounded by beautiful islands. Take a boat tour and visit popular destinations like Mactan Island, Malapascua Island, Bantayan Island, and Camotes Islands. Enjoy pristine beaches, snorkeling, diving, and relaxing in these tropical paradises.
3. Swim with whale sharks: Head to Oslob, located in the southern part of Cebu, and experience swimming alongside gentle whale sharks. It's an incredible opportunity to get up close with these majestic creatures.
4. Explore Kawasan Falls: Located in Badian, Kawasan Falls is a breathtaking three-tiered waterfall. Enjoy swimming in the crystal-clear turquoise waters, bamboo rafting, and canyoneering through the nearby rivers and cliffs.
5. Discover Moalboal: Known for its stunning marine life, Moalboal offers fantastic snorkeling and diving opportunities. Don't miss the famous Sardine Run, where you can witness a massive school of sardines.
6. Take a trip to Sumilon Island: Visit Sumilon Island, known for its white sandy beaches and crystal-clear waters. Snorkel or dive in the marine sanctuary, go kayaking, or simply relax and enjoy the island's beauty.
7. Enjoy local cuisine: Cebu is renowned for its delicious food. Indulge in mouthwatering dishes like lechon (roasted pig), seafood, danggit (dried fish), and sutukil (a local dining experience where you choose fresh seafood, which is then cooked to your preference).
8. Visit Taoist Temple: Situated in the Beverly Hills area of Cebu City, the Taoist Temple is a serene and beautiful place to explore. It offers panoramic views of the city and provides insights into Taoist beliefs.
9. Shop at Carbon Market: Dive into Cebu's bustling local scene at Carbon Market, one of the largest public markets in the city. It's an excellent place to shop for fresh produce, local handicrafts, and souvenirs.
10. Enjoy nightlife in Cebu City: Explore the vibrant nightlife in Cebu City, particularly around Mango Avenue and the IT Park area. Find bars, clubs, live music venues, and a wide variety of entertainment options.
These are just a few of the many things you can do in Cebu. The province has much more to offer, so make sure to explore and discover its hidden gems during your visit.
Bing's answer:
Cebu is a beautiful place with many things to do. You can visit Fort San Pedro which is a military defense structure built by Spanish conquistador, Miguel López de Legazpi in 1565². You can also visit the Taoist Temple which is a multi-tiered temple built by Cebu's Chinese community in 1972³. If you're into diving and snorkeling, Moalboal is one of the best places to visit in Cebu for divers and snorkelers. Here you can explore colorful coral and swim with exotic fish in crystal clear turquoise waters⁴.
Nothing about Kawasan Falls or Oslob's whale sharks, and even though it mentioned Moalboal, there's nothing about one of its most popular attraction, the sardine run.
Neither mentioned Bohol nearby, which was a bit surprising, too.

Anyone notice when they have a new boy they make it their whole personality. Like no one gives af that you have a boyfriend, what it’s been two weeks of being official? Also, fucking weird how you’re on live asking if you should stock up on baby food. Like wtf, that is the parent’s responsibility!! You’re not a parent!!!! I would be embarrassed if I had to buy my boyfriends child food bc he was too broke to do it himself. At this point I think she has some fucking fetish of being someone’s mommy….. bitch take care of your dog. Instead she wanna take care of grown ass adults and a child that ain’t hers.
Btw better start Alcoholics Anonymous if you wanna ever be anywhere near the baby, most court orders have standard orders regarding alcohol and smoking (also, vaping)!

I've worked retail, in one form or another, most of the last 20 years and I've had lots of weird customers. I've only been at Sheetz for about 1.5 months but this guy makes my top 10.
I was running POS during AHOD, and he comes up with his coffee and MTO slip. I notice that the slip has a notch out of it almost like a bite. As I'm ringing him up I joke with him "You know, sir, you don't have to eat the paper. We do sell food here." He said he was fixing his coffee and stuck the slip in his mouth for a minute. "Okay, just want to make sure you don't go away hungry." We continue with the transaction and, out of the blue, he says "You want to see my new tattoo?" Before I can say anything, he's rolled up his shirt sleeve and points to a faint red mark on his forearm. "See this? The neighbor kid bit me there. He's two years old!" He then tells me the kid's name and asks me if I know him. I said "No I don't but he must think you're sweet." He goes to leave and picks up his MTO receipt and crumbles it up and eats it! He literally put the whole thing in his mouth and started to chew!
Like I said, definitely in my top 10. I think we've all have stories like this. What's yours?

Hi -- to forewarn, this a long story that contains... a LOT. There is also a lot of background. Sorry for that.
To give some background, my (27F) father (65M) is very possibly dying from metastatic lung cancer. We found out less than three weeks ago. It has been very stressful for the family and emotions are not exactly level at the moment. I acknowledge that we are all very stressed. It is probably a large contributor to what went down.
So... Given that this is a three-day weekend and we are trying to do more as a family with whatever time we have left, we planned for a small family gathering. Me, my (ex?) fiance (27M), my dad, my mom (68F), my sister (29F), my cousin (38M), and my 2nd cousin (a minor).
Now, this is very important -- Everyone is the household has a dog. My parents have two dogs, one large (2-ishM) and one small (10-ishM). There is also my dog (7M). All of these dogs have met and get a long great and never had issues.
My cousin's dog (2-ishF) and the other dogs have never met. We planned to introduce them in the front yard of leashes and hope for the best. My sister's dog (2-ishF) cannot be around my parent's small dog because of aggressive issues from sister's dog. My sister's dog has undergone "training" to calm her anxiety and behavioral issues, but it has had minor success. The first introduction between my dog and my sister's dog was botched because of a planning issue caused by all sides. My dog holds grudges, so the next controlled introduction was also a failed attempt, and we have avoided having them near each other ever since.
We introduce the dogs. There's teeth and barking, but eventually everything calms down. Once inside the activity picks up. The little dogs start to retreat. It is extremely over stimulating for everyone. My dog retreats to a corner and settles for barking. There is some baring of teeth and lunging involved, too. After the third time of my dog displaying aggression for the cousin's dog, we removed him from the situation.
Eventually, after everything had quieted down a little bit, the dog bones picked up, the dog food removed, and everyone had gotten most of their ya-ya's out, we introduced my dog back to the situation. It was fine, for the most part. We tried to let them figure out the "pecking order" and sometimes that means things getting a little ugly and toothy, but the scuffles were brief.
Now, it is important to mention that my cousin is not staying in my parent's house. Me and (ex?) are, my 2nd cousin is, but my cousin has a bus he uses as a primary residence (go bus/ van life) and so he is staying in there with his dog.
Me and (ex?) run out to go to the gym, the store, and then my sister asks us to go to her house to help with something, which we do. At the point of us leaving that AM, everyone besides my parents were asleep. We get back about two-hours later. At the point when we return, my cousins are awake, the four dogs are all together, and I ask how everyone is getting along. I'm told everyone is fine with each other and that there have been no altercations. The dogs were even laying together for a moment. Me and (ex?) are told to hurry up and get showered and come back down, because we were late for breakfast, and it was getting cold.
We go, shower, get dressed.
(Ex?) goes down first, and comes back a few minutes later saying our dog is bleeding.
Apparently everyone downstairs is saying he banged his head into a table, and it must have happened from that. (Ex?) brings our dog upstairs, and it is very apparent that the bleeding is NOT from running into a table. There are at least four visible puncture wounds from a dog bite on his face. One gusher above his eye (1/2 inch), two superficial bites next to the big one around his eye, and one next to his mouth. My cousin's dog is bigger than our dog. His dog's mouth could absolutely fit most of my dog's head in it.
It is also relevant that my cousin made numerous comments the previous night about his dog being an alpha. He said that she has been known to, "put other dogs in their place" while at the dog park. He did not say any of these ended badly or bloody.
I will also mention here that I know my dog probably antagonized the situation by being a little shit. I know I should have just trusted my gut and removed him from the situation entirely. These are things I am aware of and things I regret.
At this point, we hear my sister come into the house with her dog, and it is pretty apparent that this arrangement is not going to work.
This only adds stress, but it’s not pressing. What is pressing is the fact that the puncture above my dog's eye is still bleeding, that it is larger than a superficial wound, and that I don't want it getting infected and it is a holiday weekend. I text my boss pictures of the bite and ask her to ask her vet if she would advise an emergency trip to the vet, and her vet responds that the bite would probably form an abscess before the weekend was over. So, that was our answer.
We take our dog to the emergency vet. All in all, it takes nearly seven hours. Our dog ended up having to have a sedative and five sutures over all (including two in his ear, which we hadn't previously noticed). We kept being told by the vet that it shouldn't take more than an hour, so we waited. Traffic in that area is BAD. I mean, it took thirty-minutes to go two miles, so we figure it best to wait for him instead of getting into traffic twice to go to my parents' house (20 mins away) and back. During this time, my sister is calling me asking me to run errands delegated to her, my mom is texting and calling asking for status, me and (ex?) had been holding it together pretty well, for the most part. That is until the wait started to get to us, and the constant pings from our phones, and my anxiety and stress about my dad, and my (ex?)’s anxiety and stress about the dogs (he was saying it was he thought it best to take our dog home, which means he would go home, and I know that would upset my dad, so I tell my mom ahead of time)...
Anyway....
After the seven hour wait, we finally get to go back to the house.
Now -- here's the real story now that the brief (HA!!) background has been established.
I call my mom on the way and ask what the current dog situation is, and what the plan is to avoid any more confrontations. Now, me and the (ex?) already discussed that we need to alternate my cousin's dog being in the house and my dog being downstairs. My cousin's dog lives in his bus, so we think that she needs to be in the bus half the day to let our dog be with everyone inside, and then the other half we would put our dog upstairs and let his dog be with everyone. As always, we think my sister's dog just shouldn't be there at all.
My mother pleasantly informs me that "all the big dogs are getting along GREAT!" She says that the plan is to keep all the big dogs outside together, and the little dogs sequestered together inside upstirs. I inform her that it will be raining, and therefore the big dogs cannot stay outside all day, and there is no way that I am OK with my dog being isolated while the other dogs are there barking and playing. She repeats her previous plan, and this is where I kind of lose it, because I'm not here to manage doggy daycare. I'm here for my dying father, and I have seen him for maybe a few hours total and the other time has been spent stressed about dogs.
All the rage and frustration boils to the top, and I go off. I tell my mother that if this was her plan then (ex?) would just take the dog home. She eventually concedes and says that we can do the alternating, but at this point I do NOT trust that this will actually happen. There is a lot of yelling going on, and there is still the variable of my sister's dog (who is still at parents' house). It is too much. I have had enough. I tell my mom that we will just go home if her plan is to keep ALL FIVE dogs on the same property. She explodes on me saying that was my plan from the beginning (mind you, I have been trying for a solid week to help coordinate everyone being there together and brought enough supplies and clothes to last me more than a week. I had planned activities to keep 2nd cousin busy, and there were meals planned as a family -- I, in NO way shape or form, had ANY intentions of dipping on this get together. I am pissed.)
Once I get back to their house, (ex?) stays in the car with our dog, and I run in to get our stuff. I am met with a barrage of blame and accusations as soon as I'm through the door. I am told that this dog bite situation was my fault for leaving my dog downstairs while I took a shower, that my dog was "under-socialized and aggressive." Mind you, my parents both love my dog and frequently have commented on what a good boy he is for the last SEVEN years. Never once mentioning that he was UNDERSOCIALIZED or aggressive. He's a prima donna, sure. He has had moments where he'll lash out when uncomfortable or feeling threatened by another dog, but he has, not ONCE, bitten anything or anyone, or even come close to it. He gets along with my (ex's) families dogs. All of them. And there's a lot.
He has only had two aggressive interactions. With my sister's dog through the fence, which everyone should share blame in, and now my cousin's.
There is a lot thrown around. My sister is smiling and mocking me about wanting everyone together.
My sister fuels the fight, smiling the whole while, and my mother regurgitates sentences that I know aren't coming from her.
It is obvious that there had been discussions that I was not privy too (because I have been stuck in an emergency vet for seven hours), and that everyone (barring the minor cousin and idk about my dad) has come to the conclusion that I am the villain in this scenario and that everything is my fault.
I am in a blind rage at this point. I feel like I am a dog backed into a corner, and everyone is yelling. I am probably yelling the loudest, because I just feel like I have not been heard since getting there. I wanted to keep the dogs separated from the first indication of trouble, and then was told I was overreacting. I specifically said that this would turn very ugly, and was then mocked by my cousin and mom as being overprotective and like a Karen in a dog park, who would jump in between fighting dogs to pull their dog out.
I feel sick at this point. I feel like my back is about to crumble and my head is going to explode. At one point, as I am putting my stuff outside so I can grab my shoes, I come back in to them saying something I can't put together, but I hear my sister say, "Shush! She's coming back" -- and that damn smile is still on her face. I tell my dad I'm sorry, that I would come back to pick him up and bring him to my house, I tell my 2nd cousin the same thing, and then I leave. There is a moment in-between there where I do slam the front door back open, and I admit to putting a hole through the closet door with the doorknob. That's my bad.
I am still fuming while in the car. I tell my (ex?) that when he went back inside to retrieve something he should have defended me, at least a little. Said that the fight was unnecessary on both sides. Something. Especially since I had spent the majority of the afternoon trying to calm him down (he doesn't rage like I do, his is quieter and filled with more anxiety that clouds his ability to think). I called my mom on his urging to begin with. I was just going to go inside and put the other dogs away, smuggle our dog inside and upstairs, and deal with the planning part afterwards. But (ex?) has diagnosed OCD, so sometimes going with the flow is the best option. So I did. I tried, at least.
During the ride back, my (ex?) boyfriend decides out of the blue and without saying anything to me to call my mom, tell her that he doesn't want to associate with them anymore, and that he doesn't plan to see them every again. Yes. We can all agree how childish that is. He would agree too. My terminally ill father is yelling and cussing him out in the background, and my (ex?) clarifies that he would have liked to see my father, but if he doesn't want to see him that that's what it is. My family is complicated. There is a lot of past trauma to unpack, but to put it simply my dad is the most unreasonable person sometimes, but also the one that I get along with the best. My (ex?) also agrees with that.
The call ends. I comment (because I just can't help myself) and tell him how stupid that was. I am in that rage-mode where everything I say is super calm and super condescending. (Ex?) says that I wanted him to defend me, so that's what he was doing.
My (ex?) then decides to take this as a very opportune moment to tell me that he had spent the previous week contemplating breaking up with me. Mind you, that Friday, the Friday that we went to my parents' house, was our eight year-anniversary.
I am mind-boggled.
I continue to drive and the hate in me grows a little more with every mile we go.
Eventually, I hear my (ex?) talking, but I know it's not meant for me. He has called my mom to apologize for everything, for the things that he said. He is the one crying now. Balling. He is so emotional with the things he's saying that I am forced to pull off the highway and into a gas station because the tone makes me uncomfortable to be in a moving vehicle. That was me projecting, but still...
He continues the conversation, continues the apologies, and then says, "I was in a no-win position and being told I didn't defend her (me) and so I called and made the worst mistake of my life."
Naturally, I am beside myself. I feel betrayed. I feel crazy. I feel so outside my body.
To be clear, I never once told him to call her. I just wanted him to defend me, because we both were in agreement about the situation and that their plan on how to handle to dogs was wrong. He was the one pushing the idea that my family was in the wrong.
There is a lot said afterwards. Nothing matters, at this point. He ends up calling my mom again (this time on my urging) to say he was apologizing for what he said on the phone, not the situation as a whole. He says he wasn't taking sides. He stops his conversation more times than I can count to ask me if that was what he was supposed to say. I am livid. I feel disgusting. I tell him repeatedly that I am NOT putting words into his mouth and that he is an adult and can speak for himself. He then proceeds to basically have a conversation with my mother in which he outlines the reasons why me and him may not be together anymore, and how we want to different things, etc...
I'm disassociating out of my body while going 70mph down the interstate in the rain, forced to listen to this conversation coming from the back.
We argue. I drive. He asks me to make permeant decisions about us and that he's going to quit his job and go back home to live with his parents if we aren't together. I tell him I am not continuing this discussion while under duress. He continues to ask. I continue to drive. I scream. It gets quiet.
We don't talk the rest of the drive. We only talk about the dog while we get him situated at the house. My (ex?) starts crying. I don't have the energy to cry..
We have spent the day isolated and away from each other. I have not spoke with my family. I don't know if I will ever again. My sister sent me a text of the door with the hole and a smiley face.
I feel like my entire world just crumbled at once.
I don't know where or who to turn to in this scenario. I feel the lowest and loneliest I have ever felt in my life.

idk if i really should say this but i'm pretty sus of her psychologist. I AM NOT A PSYCHOLOGIST, but it's a field i want to go into, and have been in therapy myself for like a decade. so take all of this with a grain of salt, but i do have some amount of familiarity with how therapists and psychologists are expected to act and the shit she's supposedly doing and being told in therapy has me giving side eye.
one more thing before i get started-- i want to stress that i am not trying to say this psychologist is bad at his job. obey rule 2 + leave bro alone and out of this. he's just some dude, and he may not be saying any of what amber says he does. hell, he might not even exist. this post is PURELY to discuss, subjectively, the qualms i have with how amber's therapy is being handled (on both ends) exclusively using word of mouth from amber's very warped videos. heaps of salt (and decency) all around.
okay enough preamble, we're starting with the PTSD.
i'm currently being treated myself for PTSD (this is not to debate whether she has that though), and i think the test she referenced a bit ago was the PCL-5. the PCL-5 is NOT to diagnose PTSD*. the PCL-5 is to measure symptoms associated with PTSD. if you have not yet been diagnosed or treated for PTSD and your score is a 33 or higher, it does not inherently mean that you have PTSD, but rather, means the possibility of PTSD is present and should be looked into by your mental healthcare provider. this is not what amber said. amber said 33+ = PTSD and she had SOOOO much more than 33 so she's the PTSD queen of the world.
*the PCL-5 is a tool used IN PTSD diagnosis. it on its own cannot diagnose anything, but this does not negate its importance as a factor in diagnosis.
so either her psychologist told her that the PCL-5 was essentially a magic diagnose-er, or he told her what it actually is and she warped it (but it might also have been something in between, which is still not good). amber is amber and she will always find a way to blow something out of proportion, but the fact that she felt inclined or was able to present it the way she did tells me that her psych may not have stressed what these things actually are, which in my own experience, is an issue. as a therapist you need to accurately present things to your patients, and you shouldn't throw diagnostic language around willy nilly or pin diagnosis on literal inanimate objects (ie, this test diagnoses disorders). that is not appropriate, and can give patients a warped idea of themselves, their mental health, and the wider mental health sphere (i also think it's a little odd that, if this is the PCL-5, that amber may not have been told as much. sure, her psychologist absolutely could have introduced it correctly, but amber has basically only called it "this test" or "a worksheet" as though she isn't sure what she's talking about. the ambiguity there, while also presenting it as this inanimate wizard of diagnosis, feels very off to me).
PTSD, like any other disorder, also takes some time to diagnose completely. you don't just walk in there, do one or two sessions with a therapist, and BOOM diagnosis. that's not appropriate. for most diagnoses, a therapist needs to (or at least should...):

1. actually get to understand the patient, who they are, any conditions they may have already been diagnosed with, the medication they're on, at least a rough idea of the lifestyle they have, the symptoms they're dealing with, etc
2. know of the specific incident (because generally, PTSD is caused by one major moment of trauma) that would have caused the disorder (not necessarily in detail, but just know what it was, e.g., a car crash, a fire, an assault, etc)
3. evaluate whether hearing "you most likely/do have PTSD" will actually be helpful to the patient, AND if they're completely ready to be treated. not everyone does well with diagnoses. some people freak out at the idea of being 'broken' in some way, some people think that once they get a diagnosis it means that's their identity now and they can't be fixed, some people hear a diagnostic term and take it as a scapegoat, many people experience a combo of these things. personally were i amberlynn's therapist i would be extremely hesitant to offer up concrete diagnoses unless i thought she may need to talk to her PCP/psychiatrist about medication, because she mistreats her diagnoses. with PTSD it's not something you can really treat without any form of PTSD diagnosis, but also, PTSD is not something people are always ready to conquer treatment for when they first present to you. i'll expand upon this below, but for the sake of this bullet, someone who will treat their PTSD diagnosis the way amber does imo (i.e., her quirky identity and something to be quantified in numbers) may not yet be ready to hear the diagnosis, and likely isn't ready to treat it either.

amber effectively was diagnosed with PTSD on her, what, second appointment? third? first? either way, that just doesn't spell fantastic therapy work to me. i've been seeing my current therapist for 4-ish years and was just diagnosed with PTSD this year (after around 2 years of lightly discussing my trauma). when i was diagnosed my therapist already knew me very well. she at that point was familiar with my trauma, familiar with my life, with my symptoms, with how my mental health impacts me, and knew that i was finally ready to actually deal with it. they were interested in tackling it a year or two ago, but at the time, recognized i just wasn't ready and we've saved it for now. on top of that, my therapist waited until i showed them that i was comfortable with the situation + was prepared to hear it to refer to my condition as PTSD in order to avoid creating any anxiety before we even got started with treatment.
i think it's very strange that, at least by the sound of it, her therapist jumped on the opportunity to diagnose her with this very serious disorder (though entirely curable-- let's all be reminded that it is not an identity. if amber starts treating this/talking about it like it's part of her that can't be fixed or changed that'll be yet ANOTHER red flag, PTSD is absolutely curable and that's the whole point of treatment).
what i also find inappropriate as someone being treated for PTSD is that he has her write physical essays recounting major traumatic moments. maybe this is something some therapists do, but to ME it's a little problematic. why would you instruct your patient to keep a physical log, that any other person could access and read, of the worst moment(s) of their life?!? i've already gone into enough detail about myself and my treatment, but TLDR, i have to do something slightly similar but it's in a way that is completely private and confidential (i.e., behind a passcode only i know, not physical, and digitally stored in a way that literally cannot be breached and is DESIGNED for use in this kind of therapy). confidentiality is a big part of this and amber should understand that. why does she find it appropriate to record herself immediately before and immediately after therapy, share what she's going to do, what she did as homework, etc, and why does her therapist find it okay that she's writing these extremely personal accounts on physical sheets of paper (or even recommended it) when she has every resource in the world to keep things confidential?
but speaking of weird diagnostic shit, let's talk about how he addressed the BED that she suddenly, officially doesn't have.
idk about any of you, but not once have i had a therapist say "y disorder is when z. that is the definition of that disorder and it cannot be experienced in any other way". i sound like a broken record but i find it pretty damn inappropriate that a mental health professional would tell her "bingeing is when you eat 3x what you normally would. if you don't eat 3x what you ordinarily would when you binge, then you simply don't binge", partly because it's just not good practice to speak about mental disorders with such strict absolutes, but also because it's just... wrong? Mayo Clinic defines binge eating disorder as follows: "Binge-eating disorder is a serious eating disorder in which you frequently consume unusually large amounts of food and feel unable to stop eating." these are the symptoms they list (but they are not limited to the following):

• Eating unusually large amounts of food in a specific amount of time, such as over a two-hour period
• Feeling that your eating behavior is out of control
• Eating even when you're full or not hungry
• Eating rapidly during binge episodes
• Eating until you're uncomfortably full
• Frequently eating alone or in secret
• Feeling depressed, disgusted, ashamed, guilty or upset about your eating
• Frequently dieting, possibly without weight loss

(cred. Mayo Clinic)
do we see "bingeing is when you eat 3x what you normally would" anywhere on there? no. idk where he even got that. not to mention, there IS no normal for amber. every meal she consumes is excessive and is what many of us would call binge eating or at the very least overeating. by this definition if she binges at every meal, well, she doesn't binge at all because it would all be the same amount, not 3x whatever. this whole concept is a crock of shit. the language is all kinds of bunk (why would you use the word "normally" when referring to behavior outside of the disordered behavior? not only can it be ableist in some context it's also just.. incredibly loose) and completely negates the actual symptoms of bingeing, ALL of which amber displays.
yes. i understand that amber could have (read: probably... definitely) lied about her symptoms for the sake of her WLS (allegedly, in my opinion, don't sue me please). however, that's irrelevant to what the psychologist supposedly told her. even if she told him she did all of the above, if he really believes in such a rigid (and ridiculous) definition, it wouldn't even matter.
i'm very curious and suspicious about the whole BED un-diagnosis. for years amber has said she binge eats, she's presented all of these symptoms, and IIRC she has been told by other therapists/psychologists/drs that she has it. i think most of us, even without being mental health professionals, have at least some level of understanding of binge eating. the fact that he has this definition in his mind (according to amber anyway) baffles me, but what baffles me more is that he so easily said "oh, you definitely don't have BED" just a few weeks in to therapy with a woman who would otherwise have had to see him for a full year because of BED. from what we've heard he's incredibly eager to pounce on diagnoses, which is a huge red flag. again. yes. she could have lied to him about her current symptoms but that wouldn't change the fact that she's BEEN saying, to the clinic with which he is affiliated, that she has BED for an extended period of time. that wouldn't change the fact that she's been told this by so many professionals. both of these, i would think he'd have some kind of awareness of. it also wouldn't change the fact that his supposed definition of BED is just literally wrong.
this whole situation type deal has me BEYOND suspicious. please tell me i'm not the only one who thinks this therapy sounds very strange...

So, i don't even know where to begin, when I first started noticing weird issues with my digestion was about 4-5 years ago, every time I went on a plane, and was waiting for said plane to reach liftoff (Where you can't stand up no matter what) I would get this INSTANT urge to use the bathroom, it happened every single time on airplanes, and along it came a panic attack, somehow I was able to control it and eventually when I could get up I went and used the restroom, ended up always being diarrhea. This happened on AIRPLANES only for the longest time, but eventually once randomly while in the highway I got stuck in a traffic jam and the same exact urges came onto me, but iwas able to control them (Not without a panic attack) and after leaving the traffic jam instantly went to the nearest bathroom and basically destroyed it.
So, those are the 2 main places where it happened, but it slowly developed without me even noticing and nowadays, every single day is a day where I'm totally stressed and trying not to shit myself everywhere I go.
School? Problem, daily commute? Problem, leaving the house going to a place I don't know and don't know if ill have access to a bathroom? Problem. Its literally taken control over my whole entire life and its absolutely driving me wild, the stress, the anxiety and everything related to it is driving me nuts. I've started different medications, and even had a colonoscopy and came out clean.
My current medication is Clonazepam 2.5 mg/L droplets 12 total thru ought the day, 50MG Amitriptyline during the night, alongside 5MG Olanzapine I feel like it's not working, and I'm at my wits end. Anybody experienced the things I've mentioned?
How did you deal with them? I'm really starting to lose all hope regarding their being a cure for what I'm experiencing, my psychologist alongside psychiatrist feels like they have been no help.
I've started only eating at 2PM and having no breakfast or food at night due to the anxiety getting worse the next day because i actually still have MORE food in my stomach. Before all of this my life was perfect but in a span of like a year it feels like it's been totally ruined. I'm tired, stressed, and absolutely overwhelmed by this issue. (Pardon any spelling or redaction mistakes, I'm not a native English speaker.)

Just got a charcoal grill recently and have cooked one it once.
We have about 20 people coming over tomorrow and I’m doing burgers, hot dogs and bbq chicken.
I have an offset smoker grill, so just doing charcoal in the main compartment. Figured I’d do the dogs in high heat for a few min, transfer to my top rack, drop the burgers about 6 minutes before we eat, and then have the chicken over low heat the whole time, and then move them to high heat once the burgers and dogs are done to char.
With the high heat and low heat zones, any tips on regulating temp of the grill and keeping the temp steady throughout? Last time I did chicken, as soon as I dropped the chicken, the temp went down about 30 degrees, even with keeping the lid closed when I wasn’t actively flipping it.
Please any tips are appreciated. Just trying to give my friends some tasty food and not food poisoning.