Pictures of quail eggs

My (31M) ex (29F) started getting close to her coworker and I found out from a conversation with another female coworker that she was really into his body, found him attractive and felt like he was going "get her in trouble with her husband". I felt uncomfortable and told her about this and she kind of gas lit me into thinking its nothing.
Fast forward a year and they have become even closer, hanging out after work and during lunch breaks smoking weed together and walking home together. I discover this and told her im uncomfortable with it. She says ok and agrees to limit their time together.
A month or 2 later I ask if shes still spending time with him (she says no and tries to prove it with screenshots of their messages which are few and far between)
A month later I found out she skipped college classes to hang out with him alone because I checked the phone records and saw that they had been texting a lot more than she led on and was deleting messages and hiding their private hangouts. She slowly started to come clean but swore up and down it was platonic and that he was like a brother to her. They were only discussing the issues in their relationship and there are no romantic feelings involved. Not too long afterwards in a completely separate conversation she casually mentioned to me that she is no longer sexually attracted to me and gave no suggestions or insight on how i could work to fix that for her.
I couldn't take the lying, gaslighting and the uncertainty and things were already on the decline. Sex life slowed down a lot, lots of emotional neglect, insecurity from micro cheating, invading privacy and then trying to tell her not to talk with her coworker who was a threat to our marriage. It wasn't going well, broken trust from the inappropriate conversations she would have with coworkers and strangers, it was all too much and I finally decided to move out and end it all with hopes that she would see my value and come back ready to be a good wife now.
5 months later I was doing well in life, new job, new apartment, 30 lbs lost and a boost of confidence from meeting new women with lots of successful moments. I felt like me again, then her and I started reconnecting again.
We were yet divorced and we missed each other and both agreed to still be friends with benefits and see where things go, possibly in the future we would get back together and i held onto that because of the length of our relationship (10 years) and the fact that she was my best friend.
Things went well at first and it felt like old times and there was clear chemistry and familiarity but she wasnt overly aggressive with her feelings towards me, basically played the friends with benefits role well and never let herself get too into the sexual moments. It made me feel like she was not really into that part of our current relationship and that the friendship was more important. I was just happy either way.
About 2 months after we reconnected she comes over one day, we grab some food and head back to my place to do the deed. It went well and afterwards we were just hanging on the bed chilling when she fell asleep naked next to me. I went out to the living room since i wasnt tired and played some PS5. I hear her phone go off and realize she left it in the living room. I got super curious and realized my fingerprint still worked for her phone.
I snooped around and eventually found a picture of the same coworker in her phone, but it was a picture of him shirtless, in our old apartment, only a few weeks ago. I immediately open up his contact to see he is saved as "Daddy Jason" I do a quick skim through and see all the graphic messages and pictures shared between them and lost my shit.
This looks like it had been going on for a long time but it doesnt look like they started having sex until we split.
I took a picture of her naked on my bed from her phone and sent it to him saying you can have her bro. Then kicked her out of my apartment at 2am. Told her I knew what she did and we cant speak anymore. I will call you with next steps for the divorce.
I then proceeded to draft her the nastiest, most cruel message I could while also letting her know just how much this devasted me. She never responded.
She followed up a week later obviously condemning me for everything I said (I wasnt proud of saying any of it and my only purpose was to hurt her just as bad as I was hurt in that moment). It all went over her head. She called me insecure, said the resentful sex she would give me once every other week was never good enough and the worst was all she had to say regarding what I had discovered was "Im sorry I hurt your feelings".
I'm struggling to move on with other people now because I'm afraid that I'm not enough and that if they dont show their interest the way my ex used to show interest in me (no she shows interest in that way to her coworkers) that it will never work. I just want a girl who likes me for me, thinks im good enough and will always choose me even when we are old an saggy and have been together for decades.
I just never thought women like her existed. I thought she was better than that.
Did she cheat?

Hey there! I am in search of a friend who is willing to do movie nights, read books togheter, voice calls, exchange memes and maybe play some video games togheter. :D (Exchanging cooking recipes and pet pictures is a bonus).
I am a horror enthusiast, listen to lots of metal and goth music, love make up, hair care and goth fashion.
As long as you are older than 18, and understand I am after platonic friendships, we can talk! Send me a message!

Hi guys,
I haven't seen any similar question asked on Reddit for a number of years, so here it goes.
I want to be able to take pictures from my travels, both while snorkeling or possibly diving, but also during things like river floats where I'm taking above-water shots but don't want to risk dropping a sensitive camera.
I've been struggling with this decision. In my research, I've determined that there are really only two point-and-shoots worthy of mention, the OLYMPUS Tough TG-6, and the Nikon Coolpix W300.
These cameras were released in 2019 and 2017, respectively. There's been nothing since then. And given how much camera tech has advanced since then, it makes me feel like they are way outdated.
I looked at some test shots from both, and they were seriously underwhelming. Especially compared to my phone, a Google Pixel 6.
I could also do a GoPro or similar, but I mostly do still photography and I hate how GoPro photos turn out, and even just taking them is a horrible experience IMO.
Also for some context, I am a very serious amateur photographer and my main camera is a Canon R5 with a variety of L glass. I obviously am not looking for that level of quality, but I'd still like to be able to take photos in all circumstances that are at least acceptable on a computer screen.
So unless someone tells me otherwise, I think I'll probably invest in a high-end smartphone underwater housing. I figure that I'll be able to keep using it for years and stick whatever upgraded phone I get into it, so the image quality will continue to improve.
It's either that or a $4000 housing for my R5 and I'm not sure I want to go that route just yet.
Do you guys agree with the decision to go with a smartphone housing? If so, any suggestions?
​

This is gonna be toxic and problematic I'm just venting sorry.
I'm semi friends with this girl who I know self harms as I've seen it. She has a good few scars on her arms. She just fucking shows it. Like, she's in orchestra and stuff and my college posted a picture of her playing, she's wearing short sleeves with her recent scars just on display. Why can she do that? Why can't I have that freedom? Some of hers are deeper than mine, why do I have to struggle so much when she can just do these things and get away with it?
I want to hurt myself whenever I look at her. She's done nothing to me, but just fucking looking at her scars. I'm jealous, too. Everything seems so easy for her. How can mental illness be so fucking easy for someone??? FUCK. I HATE THIS.
I'm supposed to be like, normalising scars and she doesn't present them or anything, I'm just bitter.
I'm also secretly angry she does it when she seemingly had a good life. I know this is bad, I'm sorry, its just she has an amazingly close relationship with her family, she has tons of friends, she's well off, but has a job, she's good at school, she's so fucking confident, and I'm a pathetic insecure socially inept weirdo with a traumatic fucking childhood and a mentally ill mother and little sisters I've had to parent my whole life and have had to face being fucking molested and my mother being abused and a broken family and being neglected and living in a filthy house and everyone thinking I'm a disgusting weirdo I'm whole life and having to pretend I'm not autistic because my mother hates when I show any sign of being a freak and I know its my fault but i can never tell anyone anything that's actually going on because I'm too insecure about being a burden. How can someone who seems to have such a good life do shit like this. And why can she go deeper than I can when I've had 8 whole years of practice.
I hate myself

Hi all, I know for sure that there have been posts regarding this...some posts are a little older than others, but I just want a once and for all understanding on what I am getting into. I have been spending every day after work trying to find schools to get my prerequisites done so I can get into a Physical Therapy program but when I search for things throughout differing physical therapy subreddits, I see a whole lot of negativity about the state of the profession, so much so that people are trying to get out and steer people away from it. I have been fairly excited to get out of my current job and even more excited & looking forward to learning to become a Physical Therapist. I've been told that I light up when I talk about things relating to it and when I try to talk about theories or possible exercises to suggest to someone that could help them that has worked for me. Or I tell them to take a look at Bob & Brad on youtube or whatever.......After being excited about starting my journey, it's just very disheartening and stressful that being a physical therapist won't be as cracked up as I pictured it would be.
So...just tell it to me straight docs, what's my prognosis? :(

Hi,
22M. Mind you, I probably have BPD (Borderline), which may amplify feelings of guilt, and otherwise complicate things. Seeing a psychologist soon.
I'll try to make this as short as possible. My dad probably has NPD. My parents separated at 4, and I had some regular contact with him until I was 10. Practically only raised by my mom.

• She sometimes says mean, passive-aggressive things.
  
• If I do or say something not aligning with her values, then she becomes very disagreeable. For example, I'm moving to another country this fall (which she dislikes), and I asked if I could use her car to drive my furniture down there. She completely opposes it, arguing that "it's dangerous" and when I disagree and tell her it really isn't dangerous, her ultimate argument was "I just have a very bad feeling about this—No!". Maybe I just have too high expectations of her help?
  
• She (sometimes?) withholds affection and praise. For example, I was super nervous for days before holding my first seminar at uni, and I surprisingly did it very well, and later told her about the whole nervousness and accomplishment. No response. No praise, no "good job son". What? Maybe that isn't to be expected from a parent?
  
• She compares me with e.g. cousins, and has done so since I was a kid. (She always implied I'm "better" than them, which feels a little sickening now).
  
• She has this idea of me having to be "perfect in her image"—so to speak. When I was visiting about 6 months ago, some relatives were over for dinner, and she showed them some family pictures on the wall. There was a picture of me as an infant, and she literally said "The perfect child.", and laughed.
  

Today, I've felt so guilty ever since talking with my mom. Like, gut-wrenchingly guilty. But, for a person without BPD, that'd probably translate to "normally" guilty. Her (our?) friends' daughter is graduating from high school tomorrow, and she wants me to come. I'm ambigious toward coming: It's her friends, really, and I don't care much about them, tbh. So, I don't really want to go. But, I feel like I should go, for her sake. For her to not feel alone/abandoned, I seem to think.
I basically told her I'm ambiguous toward coming. Not coming at all seems a bit selfish (maybe not?), and the idea of staying there the entire day seems somewhat dreadful. So, I proposed I come by 12 and stay until 3-4 pm, to partake in the ceremonies and talk some, which seems like a fine middle-ground to me. No... She gets mad at me and seems to start crying (on the phone), which makes me feel super guilty, totally fucking up the rest of the day. I feel like a bad son...
Because, on the other hand, she's getting old and she's realistically going to live 10-30 more years. I'm planning to permanently move 8500 miles away in 5 years (ofc she dislikes that), and will probably see her 1-2 times per year from then on... Which makes me feel guilty for not spending more time with her now....
?????? is how I feel. Long post... Any input would be much appreciated!
Thank you for reading.

This happened last year in July, I was at Hollywood studios in Disney world Florida and I was in galaxy’s edge when I saw a the new dark saber they were advertising. It was of course very expensive and I was hesitant to buy it and my parents could see that. We were on our way out when we stopped at a bench to get cover from the rain. My parents were saying if I really wanted it then they would be willing to buy it. All of a sudden while sitting there a random stranger about 18-21 looks at my shirt and compliments the mandalorian picture this is not the weird part. He compliments it says these exact words “ hey nice shirt I got a dark saber”. My parents and me all were so stunned by the coincidence and the fact that universe was literally teasing me about it was just unfathomable. I ended up marching back and purchasing it. The fact that as I was debating on whether to buy or save my money and some random dude comes out of no where and said what he said just baffles me to this day

On the planet teeming with eight billion others, I was just another face in the crowd, navigating the tumultuous corridors of high school. Today, we were ticking off the second to last day of the school year, and we had the liberty of a half day, making lunchtime the closing bell.
At fifteen, I was awkwardly wading through the stormy seas of adolescence, complete with the scourge of hormonal surges and the unfortunate sprinkling of acne dotting my face. My world was wonderfully wrapped up in a corner of our high school cafeteria, a realm presided over by Emila. The dazzling subject of my dreams, she held me under her spell with her enchanting beauty. Her hair, a river of glistening platinum, formed a comforting canopy around me, filling my senses with a tantalizing mix of coconut-scented shampoo and the memorable reminder of our gym sessions.
“Alex, come back to Earth!”
My Emila-infused daydream was interrupted by Elijah, my only friend in a table full of acquaintances.
“Did you see the TikTok I sent?”
He asked, a twinkle of devilish delight dancing in his eyes. I fumbled for my phone, eager for a dose of Elijah’s promised comedy, only to find the video was no longer available with unsurprising speed.
“Man, it was comedy gold! Imagine Thanos, asscheeks and all, telling the most offensive Holocaust joke. Legendary stuff”
Elijah chuckled heartily, his laughter echoing around the room, amplified by his own creative narrative.
“Sure sounds like it”
I muttered, my gaze returning to Emila. Her attention was stolen by my older brother, the infamous Mikey, whose joke had her laughing. Mikey, a final year student with a solid record of academic underachievement and a proclivity for marijuana, was a walking, talking, stoner stereotype. What was unsettling was his inexplicable charm with the wide-eyed freshman girls, a twisted hobby that gave him an unusual sense of satisfaction.
As the bell shrilled, signaling the end of the school day, Mikey abruptly stood up, the metal chair beneath him screeching in protest. His next words, a slurred mix of colloquial slangs and contemporary cuss words, were aimed at summoning his freshman fan club, a motley crew of wide-eyed youngsters who clung onto his every word like bees to honey. At the same time, he bumbled out a half-hearted invitation for Emila to join their quest for illicit pleasures. Emila's reaction was a fusion of disgust and amusement, an expression I decided to commit to memory for my poetry. She gracefully declined his offer with a well-rehearsed flip of her hair and a disdainful wave of her hand, then she returned to her conversation, laughter pealing from her like sweet music, completely oblivious to my heart hammering in my chest.
Around me, chaos broke loose as the cafeteria, now released from the clutches of academic torture, transitioned into a war zone of wild whoops, boisterous laughter, and the smell of overly sweet cafeteria food. At the corner of my eye, I caught Elijah's failed attempt to record a TikTok, where he took on the guise of a chicken playing Mozart's fifth symphony on a battered keyboard. The sight of him clucking passionately amidst a cacophony of piano notes sent me into a fit of laughter, providing a much-needed dose of comedic relief after the annoyances of my school day. The last sight that graced my eyes as I exited the cafeteria, was the bewildered expression on the face of our school janitor, as he stood paralyzed amidst the storm, mop in hand. It was a fittingly ludicrous end to another thrillingly mundane school day. With that, I picked up my bag, donned my headphones, and began my solitary trek home.
The burden of unrequited love weighed heavily upon my weary shoulders as I trudged homeward. In dire need of a chill-out moment, I fumbled for my go-to vape, only to be met with the light show of a dead battery. Just another bump in the road that is the teenage rollercoaster ride. As I hit the 7-Eleven on my route, I was looking forward to seeing Antonio, the ageless dude who seemed more interested in cracking jokes than caring about checking IDs. But instead of Antonio's playful smirk, I came face-to-face with a new character, with wrinkles that told stories of time gone by. A wave of disappointment washed over me as I nabbed a bottle of Dr. Pepper and headed for the cash register.
"What happened to Antonio?"
I asked, putting my drink on the counter for the mystery guy.
"Who?"
He muttered, his focus on the soda can he was sliding under the scanner.
"Antonio, the guy who's usually here in the evenings"
I explained, a hint of irritation in my voice.
"Dunno. I only started here last week. I just know the young girl who takes over when my shift ends"
He responded, his words leaving a gap in my world, like a punch in the gut of my usual routine.
Taking a bubbly swig of my Dr. Pepper, I tried to swallow the truth of teenage life. It was like walking into my favorite cozy room, only to find the furniture rearranged haphazardly. The change was unexpected, and unwelcome.
Finally trekking my way home after sitting on a bench listening to music for what Must've been hours. I walked under a sky that seemed to be experimenting with shades of orange and purple, I felt a strange kind of solitude sneaking in. My thoughts kept playing a merry-go-round with Mikey, Emila, and now absent Antonio - the trio that had become the stars of my high school drama.
My front door protested loudly under my foot's frustrated kick, and a slurred
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
Bellowed from the living room. My mother, ensnared in an alcoholic haze, lounged over the couch, her shaking finger accusingly pointed in my direction.
"Did you forget that I get migraines?"
The smell of tequila permeated the air, filling my nostrils as soon as I crossed the threshold. I sighed, hoping for a lifeline.
"Is dad home?"
My mother sank back onto the couch, her voice a whisper
"No."
My father, the only one who occasionally lent an ear when I complained about Mikey, was perpetually chained to his cubicle, another cog in the corporate machine.
I ascended the stairs, each creaking step a harmony to the melancholic rhythm of the dark. The silent house held the weight of my unease, my chest tightening with an indescribable yearning. Tucked away in the solitude of my room, I pulled out my phone, the screen's glow illuminating my apprehensive features. I typed out a tentative message to Emilia, a small confession of the feelings that had long been gnawing at my insides.
"Hey, Emilia, I..."
First message sent. But before I could finish my second text, the dreaded words - 'Message Failed to Send' stared back at me. My heart sank. Was it a sign? Maybe the universe was intervening, telling me it wasn't the right time, or perhaps, it never would be. Disheartened, I slung my phone aside, letting the unsent feelings hover in the digital void. Slipping under the comforting shroud of my blanket, I drifted off into a sleep, with dreams tinted in hues of Emilia and unspoken words.
The next morning started out ordinary until it was splattered with the color of angst when I pleaded with Mikey that morning to stay away from Emila. His response?
"Amelia, the freshman? Didn't know you had a thing for her."
His nonchalance was maddening.
"Emila. As your brother, I'm asking you to back off"
I clarified, hoping it would penetrate his stubborn exterior.
His perplexed expression turned into a nonchalant shrug.
"Damn, been saying her name wrong the few times we spoke, and she never bothered to correct me."
Mikey shrugged and walked away, leaving me feeling dismissed and unheard.
Feeling a mix of frustration and confusion, I left for school and shook off the encounter with my brother and headed to my first-period class. As I stepped into the room, I expected to see my usual teacher, Ms. Thompson, waiting at her desk. However, to my surprise, it was someone else entirely—a teacher I had never seen before. I had really liked Ms. Thompson too so to see she got a substitute on the last day was dissapointing. Yet his resemblance to Ms. Thompson was uncanny, from the way he held himself to the tone of his voice. I knew something was off.
I glanced around the classroom, taking in the unfamiliar arrangement of notes and papers hanging on the walls. The subjects and diagrams were foreign to me, not matching the usual decor that adorned this space. It was as if I had entered an alternate dimension, where everything seemed the same yet completely different.
As the class went on, the new teacher droned on with the same monotony I had grown accustomed to, but it felt hollow, lacking the genuine concern and passion that Ms. Thompson always displayed. The other students seemed oblivious to the change, talking and cutting up as if nothing was amiss. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
Throughout the rest of class, my mind wandered, retracing the events of the past few days. Antonios unexpected absence, the failed text to Emila, Mikey's nonchalant reaction to my warning about Emila, the strange teacher in place of Ms. Thompson—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. For the first time, I realized how little attention I had paid to the details of my daily routine. But now, with this subtle shift in my surroundings, I couldn't help but question everything.
As the class finally came to an end, I gathered my things and made my way out.
The unfolding of the remaining classes before lunch did nothing to alleviate the paranoia that was steadily creeping over me. In my second-period class, usually dedicated to cleaning out the science lab, I noticed a set of instruments that we'd never used before. My peers didn't bat an eyelid, but to me, the incongruity was unsettling. Then in English, our final class reading didn't correspond to the assigned book. The text seemed different, as though it had been subtly altered.
Physical education, typically a free play session on the last day, was different too. Coach Peters was blowing a whistle I'd never seen before, its pitch more grating than the usual. And just before lunch, during the end-of-year assembly, the principal's speech, usually so predictable, seemed off. It contained references to events and achievements that didn't match my memories.
As lunchtime arrived, a mix of anticipation and anxiety filled the air. Even with my world falling apart I found time to worry about Mikey's presence around Emila. However, Emila was nowhere to be found. When I mentioned this to the group as I took my seat, my words were met with silence, as if I had become invisible.
Sitting alone at the edge of the table, I sought solace in our group pictures, hoping to catch a glimpse of Emila. I opened Snapchat and scrolled through my camera roll until I found my favorite picture of her. But to my surprise, Emila was inexplicably absent from the image. I blinked in disbelief, rubbed my eyes, and questioned my own perception. How could she have vanished? In the photo, my arm had once embraced her, but now it hung empty at my side.
"Guys, where's Emila?"
I asked, passing my phone to Elijah. He stared at the screen for a long moment, as if emerging from a trance.
"Who?"
He finally responded absentmindedly, his attention quickly diverted by a video shared by another friend.
Taking back my phone, I desperately searched for more pictures, only to find that they had vanished—her Instagram, Snapchat, even her parents' Facebook profiles. Panic gripped me, and I screamed
"WHERE IS EMILA!?"
My voice resonating through the cafeteria, reverberating off the walls. The entire room fell into an eerie silence, and all eyes turned to me, their gazes fixed with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Her social media is gone. I feel like I'm going insane, and none of you even acknowledge me!"
My voice cracked with desperation as I pleaded for answers.
Mikey and Elijah rose from their seats, their expressions filled with compassion, ready to console me. But I couldn't bear their pity, their feeble attempts to calm my tormented mind. Their words would be meaningless. With a surge of frantic energy, I pushed my chair back and fled the suffocating atmosphere of the cafeteria.
As I stumbled out of the school, my surroundings blurred in a whirlwind of confusion and distress. The world itself seemed to warp and twist, mocking my feeble attempts to comprehend the inexplicable. Thoughts tumbled through my mind, colliding and fragmenting like shattered glass. Where had Emila gone? How could she vanish so completely, leaving no trace behind? Was I losing my grip on reality?
A light drizzle began peppering the surroundings, setting a somber atmosphere. Hours slipped away as I aimlessly wandered, searching for answers. Maybe someone had slipped me acid-laced food, or perhaps I was crazy like my mother. The thought of my brother's affinity for drugs crossed my mind, but I had never dabbled. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to find a sense of respite in my vape once again.
Entering the 7-Eleven, a chilling sensation overcame me as I discovered the same elderly man behind the counter. Without uttering a word, I hopped over the counter, desperate to find any clue.
"Kid, you can't be back there!"
The man exclaimed, attempting to restrain me. Swiftly, I pushed him away, unearthing the work schedule from the wall.
"Where's Antonio?" I stammered.
The old man, seemed to recognize me.
"I asked about that. Antonio doesn't work here"
He said, struggling to regain his footing. Overwhelmed with a sense of paranoia, I bolted out of the gas station, gasping for breath only when I reached the safety of my home.
In the dim light of the early evening, I found myself sprawled on the unkempt grass of the front yard. The recent rain had left the ground sodden, but I barely noticed the wetness seeping into my clothes. As the rain mingled with my silent tears, I heard the familiar rumble of my older brother Mikey's truck pulling into the driveway.
"Hey pussy"
He exclaimed, pushing his rain-soaked hair back from his forehead. His voice carried a light-hearted jest that felt foreign amidst the somber atmosphere. He was always like this, quick to crack a joke even in the gloomiest of moments. It was his way of diffusing tension, I suppose. He reached out, pulling me up and leading me towards the house. Once inside and in his room, an aroma filled my nose – a peculiar mix of stale pizza and mildewy old books – that somehow comforted me in a strange, indescribable way. It was an olfactory reminder of a time before things got so complicated.
Catching my eye, Mikey reached into his drawer and withdrew an intricately designed glass bong. I had seen it before, on one of those rare occasions when Mikey would let me into his private world. Now, he was extending the invitation again. He passed me the bong, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I hesitated for a moment, my mind flashing back to times when mom would sit us down in front of the TV after school, her kind and comforting presence a strong reassurance of love and security. That was before the alcohol took over, before the comforting light in her eyes had been replaced by a glassy, distant look. The thought of her brought an odd sense of calmness, as if her spirit was there with me, in Mikey, guiding me through this haze.
Taking the bong from Mikey, I let out a nervous chuckle, matching his playful demeanor. As I took a hit, we fell into a comfortable laughter, punctuated only by the deafening theme song of Family Guy playing on the large TV in the corner of his room. The memory of our shared laughter resonated deeply within me, a balm to the churning unrest I had been feeling.
"It seems today that all you see is violence in movies and -"
Suddenly, the television vanished, replaced by a weathered dresser that had been stored in the attic.
Mikey's phone suddenly blared a familiar jingle.
"Ah, man. One sec, bro,"
"-sex on TV." My brother's phone blared at maximum volume.
"Sorry, bro, my friend texted me"
He explained, placing the phone between us.
"Where's the TV?"
I muttered, the words hardly audible. As the high intensified, the room started to spin, the familiar comfort of Mickey's presence fading away. I reached out in a futile attempt to steady myself but fell onto the cold, hardwood floor. The room seemed to swirl around me, familiar objects distorting into unrecognizable shapes and colors.
Pulling myself up, I lurched out of the room, navigating the labyrinthine house as fragments of memories flooded my mind. It felt like I was walking through a dream – a vivid, disorienting journey through time and space. Stepping outside, I saw the lawn had morphed into a neatly trimmed landscape, A new 'For Sale' sign swaying gently in the evening breeze, dissolved away as quickly as I noticed it.
The sounds of laughter drew my attention to the house. The windows were aglow with warm, inviting light, revealing an unfamiliar family engrossed in their game night. Their joy was a stark contrast to my growing desolation.
As days rolled on, my world reshaped, transforming from the familiar to an enigmatic panorama. Faces blurred, places mutated, my identity itself seemed to wane, fading into oblivion.
Caught in this mutating reality, I felt a quiet observer, my existence phasing out into the ether. Friends, family, Emila - all were melting away into the canvas of my evaporating memory.
Then, amidst the dissolving haze, clarity dawned, presenting a profound revelation. Our Earth was yearning for equilibrium, burdened with the weight of 8 billion souls, a possibly infinite and cruel humanity, now quickly seeking balance before it was too late.
We had pushed our home to her brink. Now, a beautiful transformation is underway. Smiling strangers began to color my world, their joy reflecting the Earth's newfound harmony. Merchandise, once an extravagant luxury, now seemed accessible to all. The battlefield in Ukraine had given way to peace, a testament to the world healing its wounds.
As I type this out in a clean and rather nicely lit alleyway. I find myself blending into the cosmic expanse, my hands and arms fading away before returning as if the universe wants me to finish. As I turn from a solid entity into an echo of existence. The world moves on, its stride unperturbed by my fading presence. Yet, in my diminishing, I realize my contribution to Earth's balance.
Earth is in the midst of achieving perfection. Many of you won't make it and will be gutted like myself, some of you will stay. The rest of you, I catch glimpses of as I fade, timeliness unaffected and left to die without God.
My final thoughts are not of sorrow, but of serene acceptance and profound understanding. As I phase into the ether, I became a cosmic whisper, a gentle reminder of the necessity for balance and respect for our fragile planet.

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Welp. Here I am questioning my damn sexuality. Now I saw a vid that was like "Am I Bi or a lesbian". She said that the point's she will say there are only what helped her and that it could also help you the viewer. Now there was a point like "If you found a guy hot and he would find you hot too would you go on a date with him or would you just wanna by friends. Like is it that you can see if a person is hot but you don't want them to be something more then friends" Or something like that. Now I pictured that moment and I told myself no. No I wouldn't want a guy that I find hot to be my partner like nice abs there friend. And that's it. And then I wondered the same about women. AND THIS IS THE PART I GOT SO FRICKING CONFUSED. I pictured the same thing and.
I DON'T KNOW. Like I just start overthinking it and then I am like "but you also kinda overthinked the men part!" AAAAH I AM SO MESSED UPPPP. Help me. Please. Lol *dying*. So I wondered in that moment. If I really am a lesbian, or a bisexual. Becouse like. I don't think I can say yes to dating a girl yet I don't think I can say yes to dating a boy either. I am confused and becouse I am still very young I feel weird asking like an adult "why do you date guys?". Yet I feel kinda pressured to figure it out. Like a had a lot fo stuff on top of me and I feel like everyone wants me to grow up when I am still a so fricking young. Like I want to run around in the park like small kids I want to have outside breaks when I run around doing stupid shit but now when I do that people are like "How old are you?" I answer "(my age)" "Well you should behave like an (example: tweny year old! But my age)" And I am saying in my mind. 'I am not an adult parent. I still wanna run around doing stupid shit my sibling had this freedom so why cannot I have that?? Why am I pressured to grow up while my sibling had the sweet time??'
So. How did you figure it out? How did you sayd to yourself "Yup I am this. I like this I am attracted to this." Becouse I would really wanna prove that I am strong enough to figure it out.
That's all. Have a good rest of the day.

So this might be obvious, but I'm scratching my head.
A complete mole is when an empty egg is fertilized by a sperm which then undergoes genetic expansion, ultimately resulting in a 46XX karyotype.
It seems to me that since a woman inherits one of her X chromosomes from dad and has a 50% chance of donating this one to her daughter to pair with her husband's X chromosome that this should lead to a viable (though admittedly odd) pregnancy.
I Googled it and saw that it might have something to do with the P57 gene? (Doesn't everything..?) But I still don't see how this could be given my scenario above.
Can anyone help me make sense of this?

I stopped drinking 6 month ago for my physical and mental health, but so far, nothing has happened.
I see all these before and after pictures of people, who look healthier and happier and I just want that.
Ive been eating healthy and working out, but it doesnt make a difference.
My neuropathy disappeared for the first 2 months of sobriety, then slowly came back. Now I have good and bad days, where I barely feel like im inside my own body.
I lost 10 pounds, but I was already underweight, so thats not a good thing. I have trouble eating enough calories without drinking them.
Also, without alcohol I barely sleep and Im insanely tired and unable to concentrate during the day. Melatonin stopped working for me after a month.
I just got my blood test results back and according to them my organs are in absolutely perfect shape.
My doctor says Im fine and that it must all be psychosomatic.
Ive struggled with anxiety and depression before but I never had it manifest so physically.
I just constantly feel so exhausted and overwhelmed.
Ive been to therapy and it didnt help at all.
I dont know what to do anymore.
Do I just have to wait?