In college a few years ago, I decided to spend that time building up a foundation of beliefs and philosophy while my brain finished developing that would serve me for the rest of my life. This focus on self-improvement led to less mental energy spent on other people.

I think this has given some the impression that I’m a little narcissistic, but I’ve been pretty good at avoiding overconfidence. I’ve long considered myself self-absorbed but not self-centered, focussing on myself but only so I can be a better person than I’ve been.

Last Friday I realized that at some point I moved from one to the other. I stopped listening and started waiting to get conversations over with, only wondering what I was going to need to do for them. I stopped growing because I ran out out of things I had thought of that I had a reason to learn.

I don’t like being like this. I am trying to shift from a “what do I need to do?” attitude to a “what do others need that I can help with?” Any advice?

When you walk into the room and the people in it exchange glances to one another, and then laugh, it doesn’t make you want to work here. For me, and where I live, it makes me want to move to Europe, or the U.K. and never come back. I’m treated like crap. I don’t like what I do for a living since 2017. I wish I had stood up to an abusive boss in 2017 and hired a lawyer. The guy would call me into his office during my scheduled breaks to grill me over my identity, while filming me with a camcorder he had set up on a tripod. I am literally the same person I have always been and my prints have been on file since I started my career in 2010, before becoming fully licensed in my field to have a salaried position. If that isn’t good enough, I’ve been a blood donor for Red Cross since 2009, and even have record of myself giving blood at mobile drives that were located on my university’s campus. Oh, and my former pediatrician took blood samples from me as a child. They can check my fingerprints from the early 90’s when local police enrolled my prints in the “find a child” program to prevent missing children. Anyway, I have been treated like crap since filing for divorce from my husband. I was treated better when we reconciled and were expecting baby number two. Then we split again, and I was treated like crap for filing for divorce for a second time.

Long story short, the world is really shallow and only cares about how your personal life appears. Oh, here is this woman with a math degree who is very good at math and loved her career. Oh, who is her husband and what does her marriage look like? Not good? Let’s shun her and bully her. That has been my existence since this all started. No one cares to honor my achievements and licensures. My parents celebrated more when my son was born. I’m treated like unwanted packaging that once held the prized gift inside that they were expecting on a holiday. Like some Amazon box that has been tossed to the curb after the shipment has arrived.

I know it’s a strange question, and I’m sure it would be removed from Ask Lemmy, or other parts of Lemmy. I have this situation where one of my relatives killed another relative in 1990, and buried her body on the property without law enforcement ever knowing. He also buried another relative who was killed (by a different person), and buried her body around 1996. I have made posts venting a little about it. It is always met with downvotes and people denying that it ever happened. I have even been called crazy and told to remove my posts.

I’d like a chance to show Lemmy readers that I’m not fabricating this story. I would love the opportunity to have cadaver dogs brought to my relative’s house and used to search the property. I’d be willing to film the process and post it to Lemmy for doubters to see. I have asked K-9 Hire if they will rent cadaver dogs to me, but they never returned my email, or called me. They were the only private business that I found in California that rents cadaver dogs to individuals without involving law enforcement. I have filed a report with law enforcement, but they haven’t responded to it.

Let’s not wait until “Dad” is dead. Let’s have him start answering some questions about the 1990’s while he is still here, and claiming to be my biological father. Speaking of which, I look nothing like him, and he often expresses how much he hates the way my face looks. Friends often asked if I was adopted, when I was younger. There are no legal adoption papers for me. I don’t think it would hurt to take a dna blood test from “dad” in a medical facility, where he can’t go walk a saliva tube to some other man and brag about it later. I am owed some answers. I am owed several apologies for the child abuse I endured between 1988 and 2006. I think I’m owed for the threats made towards me when I tell him that I am considering unearthing those bodies.

So the world takes his side, and hates snitches? How would the rest of the world have liked to have been those two relatives of mine that are buried here? How would they have liked to have been an abused child? Lemmy readers always complain about police not doing their job well. How well would they perform as police if they don’t care about murder and child abuse? So what am I asking for here? Help? Yes, actually. Does anyone know of a place that could rent cadaver dogs to me in California? If so, that would be such a great help to me.

People in my community are ignoring the dark brown, obvious, hair roots in nearly every photo of me and they’ve managed to spread a rumor that there are two of me. There aren’t. There is a bitter, short, adult male that is six years older than me and is trying to say he dated a prettier copy of me that doesn’t exist. I dated this guy for about three months, when he was a security guard. He is now a police officer in my home town, where he never lived or attended school. Apparently, he wanted to impress other guys, or protect his ego by saying he dated someone who looked like me; someone prettier who just had the same name.

My dna hasn’t changed. My fingerprints on file with dmv haven’t changed. My fingerprints on file with DOJ for job site clearance have never changed. Neither has my thumb print on my exams that I had to pass in order to work in my career field.

Regardless, I still am being put through hell since dumping him. Why did I dump him? He put my dog in a headlock in 2013, and tried to claim she attacked him. She was a puppy. I dumped him after he said, “I’m sorry for whatever you think you saw.” His daughter was the one that yelled at him to stop choking my dog. He told her to be quiet. Did we both see something? Oh, and apparently all custody of her went to her mom. The last time I saw her, she was running around a local pizza place in tattered clothes, and he wasn’t anywhere in sight. Maybe it just wasn’t his custody day? I didn’t see her mom there either, though. I really hope he didn’t let her go to foster care when he lost his security guard job.

If you had tried to pry a Monster or Rockstar from my hands last year, I would have had some choice words for you. I was drinking about two energy drinks per day last year and walking everywhere as transportation in a foreign country. Why so many energy drinks? Well, they were technically free. I had a food card overseas. I was living on less than €40 per week, too. I had no car, and would walk about two to five miles per day to go to various places in town, like shops, museums, libraries, and other public places. Due to being without a work visa, and walking so much, I developed an energy drink habit. When a doctor drew blood from me and analyzed my vitamin levels, the B vitamins were through the roof. I also noticed that I was short of breath, even though I was going to the gym every other day to stay in shape. Then I noticed my stomach was upset. Granted, with a food card of about €20 per week and less than €40 in cash each week, I resorted to living on imported ramen that was made in an African country that I didn’t even realize exported food to other countries. I wasn’t malnourished, but trying to stay on a budget and still afford essentials like toothpaste, deodorant, soap, razors, clothes, and other items, left me choosing the ramen over other items. Ramen and small cans of Red Bull (which I can’t usually stomach because of its after taste, but they were free). After that toxicity test, something needed to change. I decided to give up the energy drinks that are loaded with B vitamins. They DON’T wash out of your system like the nutrition course at my local college stated they do. They are harsh on your body. After that, I decided to give up caffeine completely. It just dehydrates the body, anyway. I feel better now. I’m also not spending a fortune on soda, coffee, and other caffeinated beverages now. I know someone will downvote me, while clutching their Monster, or Rockstar, and I feel for them. I would have downvoted me last year, too. You have to let the toxic cans/cups of energy go. You’ll feel better in a few weeks, if you do. I promise.

My husband and his friends will probably find this, while gaming on their PC’s, and downing their bottles of Redline. I’m sure it will upset them. It is what it is.

That’s all I want to ask. It’s 2024, people. Shouldn’t all of our buildings have more skylights and windows at this point? Why am I still seeing buildings that have lights running during the day? Why are buildings still being built in ways where we need to rely on artificial light when the sun is shining?!? So much money and electricity could be saved.

Either I never belonged in the remedial classes, the GED is a participation trophy, or both are true.

Bonus, I tested out of community college geometry, but struggle with online high school geometry. I mostly wanted the college class to have classroom support for the online high school classes. They refused to let me take the class because I tested out of it.

I've just become aware that this community has a new moderator! Congratulations to @ParabolicMotion@lemmy.world ! Moderating a community is a lot of thankless work, it's great to see a volunteer step in.

Since August of last year, I’ve been coming to terms with my divorce, being single, sharing custody of my two children, and starting over in a new home of my own. It wasn’t easy, and it’s been downright lonely sometimes, not having someone to talk to and share my thoughts with.

I’ve worked hard, put in the effort, and finally I came to terms with my being by myself. I thought so, at least. Then I needed some work done in my house, so I asked on NextDoor for recommendations, and you were the first to reach out to me. So I scheduled a time for you to come out to take a look at the work to be done.

I opened the door, and there you stood. You smiled at me and said hi. I kid you not when I say that my heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t believe how beautiful you were. Your eyes were so amazing. Your smile was warm and inviting. Of course, I don’t want to be “that guy” and say anything. You were there for a job after all. And we didn’t know each other.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and you asked to call me about another job I needed done. We talked for a few hours on the phone, about more than just a job. I hate talking on the phone. But you made it easy. We talked about our failed marriages, and our kids. We talked about how we have a lot in common. I enjoyed it so much. I allowed myself to get hopeful.

But again, I didn’t want to be “that guy”, and I certainly didn’t want you to feel like my business hinged on my being attracted to you. You’ve done nothing wrong. But I can’t stop thinking about you, and hoping to find a natural opportunity to ask you to dinner. But should I? Worse yet, I may have to turn your quote down, because damn she’s expensive. I’m confused. Wouldn’t that be especially fucked up of me? It feels fucked up of me to consider it.

I feel like I do this to myself. I latch my feelings onto somebody I know I can’t be with, and I do it because it’s safer than putting myself out there in real life. I hype the person up so much in my mind, that I scare myself into believing that they would be abhorred at me if they found out. Maybe I do it because I believe deep down that I don’t deserve to be happy. That someone like her would have nothing to do with a guy like me.

This time, though, I feel it’s somehow different. I get butterflies thinking about her. I can’t remember the last time I had butterflies of any kind for someone. I genuinely feel like we have a lot in common. It feels right. And I want to deserve her. I want to be happy. What should I do?

I am truly honored. I hope every blood donation I gave was able to help save a life. I always wonder about how the recipients are doing, and what circumstances led them to need a life saving blood transfusion. The blood bank keeps all of that private for security reasons, of course, along with the name of the donors who donate. I just hope it all helped.

It has been really difficult to live in a state that is notorious for gangs, especially gangs that don’t resemble me. It is even more difficult when it comes time to apply for a job and I am faced with hiring committees that often are dominated by one gang, or another. It is even worse when it is a gang that seems to have money and power in this state. I was denied a summer job today after being interviewed by a team of all Latino managerial staff members. I have never been one to say I felt uncomfortable being the only white person, and only female, in an interview session, but I feel like I need to say it now. It made me uncomfortable. I could see them exchange looks to one another, while on the virtual camera, as if to insinuate that I didn’t fit in with their clique. I had the qualifications as a first responder for this job position, and have been previously employed by that employer. I even made a rescue that was noted in a previous year. I hate to say that, because it sounds like bragging, but it is part of my job experience.

I know someone is going to comment to the effect of, “why can’t you just apply in another California city where the hiring committee looks more like you?” My answer: “you want me to go apply in the hills and hope the skins take pity on me?” My blood type is NOT rh+. Why does that matter? Because California is full of blood gangs. There. I said it. I can’t just go sit at a different lunch table with all the other white people, as a metaphor for this instance. I’m not one of them, and it has been like this my whole life. So who can I sit with? I hate to make employment sound like a prison yard from a TV show here, but in some ways it is.

I used to think it was just the way my peers behaved in high school, but I soon realized girls on my volleyball team would never speak to me because it less about “people who went to their church”, and more about people who were part of their blood gang. Their church was a cover for a white blood gang where everyone was rh+. I was more than welcome to play tennis, even though many of my teammates didn’t look like me. Why? Because they weren’t part of some huge blood gang that was pretending to be a clique formed around a church group. Where are they now? Who knows. Maybe they joined that “church”, or maybe they moved out of California and had families of their own. Well, why doesn’t my older sister have these problems, then? She isn’t my biological sister. Apparently, she’s just a distant cousin that was raised with me, but I’m not really supposed to discuss it. There are a lot of issues like that with family, and how people are related, or not related.

Long story short, I feel like I need to move to another state. So where to? Alabama? Texas? North Carolina? I’m a registered democrat who gives blood every eight weeks to save the lives of newborns at the children’s hospital in this area. Most of the time, the babies saved by my blood are Latino/Latina. Oh, and the child I rescued in 2021, was African American. It doesn’t matter. As soon as groups (god forbid I say gangs) see my face, all they care about is the fact that I don’t look like everyone around here. Suddenly, I’m the enemy and I didn’t even do anything wrong. I’ve spent my whole life in California, for the most part. I have over 600 relatives in the South. You think they want to meet me? You think they’d like me? No, probably not. So where the hell am I supposed to go?!?

After two users admitted to doxxing me, and another admitted to digging through all of my past posts and comments, I decided to deleted my past posts. One user put my name, and my husband’s name into a comment box on one of my posts, and then tried to claim he hadn’t doxxed me for that information.

Another user decided to stalk my page, and then followed me to a post about my cat, where he proceeded to tell me I needed mental help for all of my other posts and comments. I called him out for stalking my page and digging through all of my past posts and comments in order to tell me that. I think stalkers need mental help, and a Lemmy user named Steak is totally a stalker. So to prevent people like that from digging through all of my past comments and posts, I have decided to delete many of them. Stalking is a mental illness, and many Lemmy readers don’t want to admit that. I hope readers like him seek mental help. There isn’t something wrong with searching for a missing spouse. There is something wrong with stalking and doxing a woman you’ve never met.

Two years ago, I was on the low end for BMI range. I went overseas and didn’t have a place to exercise. Despite walking everywhere, as transportation in that country, I put on weight. I blame it on having what I think was a sinus infection for a while. When I’m sick, I tend to eat more. Anyway, I gained a lot of weight over the course of two years. I have finally returned to a workout routine, along with giving up sodas and caffeine. I also have cut calories , and am keeping a calorie journal each day. I think it is helping.

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Met this guy online on Reddit three years ago, a few days after I was going through hell physically, a doctor called me and said I'd have to live the rest of my life not knowing what's wrong, and I wanted to end it all. He messaged me first after I made a post on Reddit saying my type is obese nerds. (A few hours after that phone call with the doctor and me breaking down, my mom took me shopping, to try and take my mind off of it, on the way there, I said to my mom "I feel like I need to get a boyfriend").

He seemed really into me and was a little horny. Basically stuff you'd expect from a lonely stereotypical nerd who is socially awkward. When he showed pictures of himself he was literally my dream guy. Horn rimmed glasses that look like movie theater glasses, a soft, cleanshaven face with cute dimples and a double chin, thick black hair neatly combed to the side, a snubby nose, unusually long eyelashes and large, shiny black eyes and gorgeous chubby cheeks making him almost resemble a cherub. He sent me about 4 pictures that included his body, and he is enormous (5"11 and 350 lbs). His arms are so thick and he sent me pictures he took of himself where his arms were outstretched as if to hug me, and he sent me photos of himself posed in a way he was throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me, and he told me to imagine myself on his shoulder.

I later looked at his profile, and a few days before he messaged me (his message was literally "hi I'm an obese nerd") he made a post saying he wanted to crawl into a hole and give up because every woman he loved abused him and he wouldn't mind if he died.

Everything about his appearance was something I found attractive and I'm very specific. I'm not attracted to any other type of guy. He kept messaging me all day every day, complimenting my pictures, music tracks I'd made, and voice chatting. He'd show me his collection of Marvel figurines and comic books that he was very proud of. He's in University studying Physics. He had a lisp whenever he talked, it was an unusual lisp where he kind of slurs his l's and s's. He's showed pictures of his house, his car, workplace, etc. but.... if I search him on nuwber I can't find any matches. I've tried several other sites too. I was able to find my old friend on nuwber and all other sites, but not him. I'm physically healthy now and he doesn't seem to be as interested in me before as he used to be but he says he's been busy with work lately. Part of me wonders if I made him up as some kind of coping mechanism and he isn't talking to me as much now because I made him up and I don't need coping methods anymore since I'm cured.

Keep having weird dreams where all of a sudden I can't find him and I search and search the internet but it turns out he doesn't exist and I'm insane. Or I'll find out all the pics he sent me, were actually just me using an ai and forcing myself to forget I did. I find people with his name, but none of them are him. Every day I half expect that when I log in to my messaging app he won't be on my friends list because my brain would've let him go.

I even looked his name up on Ancestry with his birth year, and there were only two people alive born in his year and they had fb profiles and weren't him. All the others were dead people. But if it wasn't for this guy messaging me when I was going through hell back then, I don't know if I'd be here now.

Last week, my cat was tracked by something. He has wounds on both sides of his face. I took him to a 24 hour vet, after I returned from work. After meeting with the vet, I was told that the worst case scenario for his treatment would be a procedure that was over $2000. I was shocked. I told the staff that I couldn’t afford that until payday. I was presented with a denial of treatment form, and another form that offered a $103 antibiotic injection, in addition to the $75 exam fee. I paid for the injection and the exam fee, but left with my cat. I am cleaning his wounds each day, and keeping him inside for now. He will need it surgically drained soon. He will also need stitches. If I can fundraise the rest of the money by today, I can take him back to the 24 hour vet tonight and have them finish the process. If I can’t, he will need to wait until next week, but my work hours conflict with the local vet’s schedule. I will try to rush him to the local vet Monday, after work, just before they close their doors. I am hoping their fees will be less than the quote presented by the 24 hour vet, because I have not managed to raise enough for that, just yet.

I am SO GRATEFUL for the generous Lemmy donors that have reached out and donated to my cat so far. I can’t believe how many wonderful people have taken time out of their day, and money from their own budget (which is probably as stressed as my own), to donate towards my cat. Lemmy is truly a life saver. You all are amazing human beings!

If anyone would like to help, as well, please feel free to visit my link. I hate asking for financial help. In fact, this is the first time I have ever had something like this happen. I am embarrassed to be so financially stressed between paydays, but this month has been rough. My elderly relative suffered some type of minor stroke this month, too. The cat was actually his, but I have taken over in seeking medical help for him. We appreciate any, and all help! Thank you all so much!

I’m collecting $2,239 until 05/20/2024 for Blue’s Medical Treatment. Can you help? https://www.paypal.com/pools/c/93OoEyefdT

I have made it to 25 donations of donated whole blood so far. I was told last week that I qualify for the 3 gallon award! That’s not why I donate, but I’m really excited to have such an honor bestowed upon me. During my last donation, they actually told me which hospital they would be sending my blood, since it was going to be used for an immediate need. I hope it helped saved lives.

I get it, ok? Gen Z's reputation isn't great. Many people see us as lazy, unmotivated, and broken.

Can you seriously blame anyone who is a millenial or younger? Be honest with yourself here. If you really have to compare the war times to say that these generations had it easy, your metrics are messed up to begin with. That is a terrible bar.

Many people are heavily thinking about using services like MAID (Canada) when they get old because they know that they'll never be able to retire, even if they work 50+ hours every week.

An entire generation is being written off, despite the fact that some of them are barely even in high school. Who was supposed to teach these kids how to act, and what to know? Who was supposed to guide them? You don't just get life skills from a box of cheerios.

I'm heavily disappointed with a certain group of Millenials for following the exact same things that they've complained about for multiple years. You can't complain about being judged as an entire generation while also complaining about another entire generation without being a hypocrite. Millions of people are usually not a single monolith, sorry to tell you. You are not an exception. No one is.

I do feel lucky in the sense that Millenials dispelled the "American dream" way before I had a chance to hope for it, although I do feel unlucky in the sense that that hope was never there to begin with. It's felt grim since elementary school, and it's just gotten worse. "Look at all of these bad problems that we'll leave you to solve, well after it's financially or environmentally feasible!" Yet, supposedly young people are dramatic for complaining about it. Hell, a lot of us can't even legally vote yet. Do we have to follow the footsteps of France?

People actively and happily ignore science everywhere. In fact, many older adults have recently tried to LOWER education funding, yet these same people will still choose to blame the kids when they don't magically know things.

There has been a massive uptick in mental health issues in young people. Instead of wondering "What caused that?", many people are very eager to just dismiss it all as kids being dramatic. A handful of kids, maybe, but THIS many? You're kidding yourself. You should keep thinking about the "why". Why are so many kids too depressed to function at a basic level?

Let's see here:

I'll probably never be able to retire.

I'll probably never be able to own a home.

People are still actively ignore environmental change, yet they whine about the price of foods going up. (Look at how the farmers are faring this year ffs)

People actively fight medical science.

People actively fight to control the lives of complete and total strangers.

I'm done pretending it's all ok. I'm done acting complacent for random people to feel better about doing nothing for decades. I'm done dealing with it. Aside from my loved ones and my hobbies, what is there to look forwards to? I know people who have a freaking masters degree, yet they're stuck working in fast food. University is NOT a magical "fix-all" solution. That poor dude is paying off that schooling with a minimum wage job. There are only so many high paying jobs.

We're expected to care about everyone else's struggle but our own. We're expected to just deal with it in silence. All for the sake of older generation's egos? I think the fuck not. I fuck up all the time. If you do, you should own up to it. I'll always respect someone who owns their mistakes WAY more than someone who just pushes the blame down.

Don't lie to us and tell us that life is better than it's ever been. If you truly believe life is fully affordable on these wages, donate everything you have to charity and start from scratch. No degree, work experience, nothing. If it's so easy, do it. Just do it. Please, start all over again if it's so easy. Show us. Let's see how long you last, especially if you're single.

Be angry at me, idk. I am not alone in feeling like this, by a long shot. This collective anger will just keep growing. You can't just brash people into being happy. That's a great way to get ignored.

Again, this is aimed towards the people who say those things. Awesome people are in every generation.

When someone broke into my house, ransacked it, and left, I thought it was my husband. We were separated in 2013, and had agreed to live apart, and even to date other people. I had a restraining order against him, because he physically abused me. We reconciled, and he told me he didn’t break into the house. No one seemed to know who did it. When I filed a police report, one of my friends was with me, and so were my parents. Neither my parents, nor my friend broke into my house. The officer who took the report kept smiling while he took the report and acted like he wasn’t taking it seriously. He treated it like a joke. My parents were upset, as was I. It was not something we found to be funny.

Two years later, I was at work, when another individual confronted me and told me that groups in the community wanted me dead. Due to my line of work, I figured that some people were bitter over end of the year reports. I shrugged it off and told her thank you for her concern. I didn’t take her comments seriously. I thought she was being overly dramatic.

My family and I moved to another city the next year. We had new jobs. My brother-in-law babysat for us, and lived with us. One day, he was physically attacked in the community, while walking down the street. Then it happened again. He tried to let an officer know that he was being attacked by what appeared to be a homeless man, but the officer tased my brother-in-law. We lost our babysitter due to that. My husband then began to notice his hours being cut at work. They cut his hours so greatly, that he finally questioned it. They told him that they would be firing him soon and didn’t explain why. I told my boss about all of this, and told him that I didn’t know how my family would afford to stay in town. Then, I began to encounter a person at work who would throw items at me while I was doing my job. This began to occur on a near daily basis. She would scream at me, often saying rude, or abusive things at me. I reported this to my boss, but all he could tell me was that “there are certain powerful groups in the community and it was best not to ruffle any feathers.” I resigned and told him that I worried for the safety of my family. We moved again.

I took a job mid-year in the city near where my parents had raised me. I began to encounter harassment. I began to be bullied by individuals at my job site. One day at lunch, I went through a drive-thru and was served a frozen coffee drink that contained the contents of a broken thermometer and possibly some chem lab chemicals. I was also called into my boss’ office and grilled over my vital records. He filmed his interrogation of me, and told me that we would be having more of these conversations in the future. I felt uncomfortable and left my job.

My parents were furious that I left my job. I tried to join the army and become a medic. I met with recruiters, took an ASVAB, scored really well, and was ready to ship out to BMT. I didn’t pass the physical health portion: I have a metal clip on one of my arteries from a past surgery. I had already signed over my children to my mother. I was left with nothing. I had even sold my vehicle, and given away my dog. I picked up work as a lifeguard after that, and eventually found a new job in my old career field. Unfortunately, I was chased out of that job by a gang member that approached me in my home town, and verbally explained that she would shoot me, if I kept my job. I told this to my boss, and he didn’t deny the presence of territorial gangs in the vicinity of the jobs site. He recommended that I resign for my own safety.

I spent a lot of time traveling. I have visited 14 different countries, in all at this point. It is all due to trying to avoid the gangs in California. They would have had to apply for a passport and then buy plane tickets to follow me to some of the places where I went. I chose countries that wouldn’t tolerate their gang presence there. I had a wonderful time abroad. I was never bullied, or threatened, until I visited Ireland, but I stayed for far too long, and began to notice Americans around me when those things occurred.

Around 2022, I accepted a full time job in my career field and immediately experienced another threat. This time, a teenager handed me death threats written on card stock that I had been using at my job. The threats specifically mentioned that a local gang wanted to hurt me. I took the written threats to my boss, who said he couldn’t offer much help. He suggested that I resign and work someplace safer. I did. I left that job, booked a ticket to France, and stayed there for about a week. I then traveled to Scotland, and then stayed almost a year in Ireland. I could t work abroad without a visa, and couldn’t attain a work visa without finishing my case for permanent residency. I became so financially distressed that I asked to have my application removed from the immigration process. I asked to be sent home, to California.

I took another job, as soon as I arrived home. It was going really well. I had a great time working at various assignments for about five months. Then it happened: Someone threatened me. I was told by a male that some gang wanted to shoot me (I paraphrase here). He then threatened to beat me up himself (again I paraphrase to remove obscenities). I took this information to my boss. One of my coworkers was in the room when this occurred, but she often flirts with the individuals that are part of this male’s social circle within the room. She refused to back me up on what was said. She played dumb and said (and I quote this word for word), “I didn’t see nothing!” That is the local clientele with which I work, everyone! That, right there! My boss decided to do an investigation into the matter. Another male in the room then announced he had overheard the threats. I was so happy to hear that someone (besides myself), was being honest in regard to what was said to me! Regardless, of this fact, my boss called me into his office and asked me to resign. He told me, “you deserve to work someplace safe.” He didn’t deny that I was threatened. He removed me from my job assignment. I have not been threatened since March of this year.

So what is my problem, right? Why am I posting this. For the past few weeks, planes and police helicopters have been flying really low over my parents’ isolated house in our rural community. They aren’t doing this at all times of the day. They specifically do this when I am outside, exercising, after work. I have also noticed bikers riding by our house, very slowly, and staring at me. I ride motorcycles, too. I owned more than one motorcycle between 2018 and 2020, and have yet to buy another one since selling those. Why does this matter? Two of my ex boyfriends work for law enforcement. One works for a local police department and the other works for a local sheriff’s department. I feel that since my husband and I separated, they have been abusing their law enforcement powers to harass me. I believe that my house was ransacked and robbed in 2013 by someone affiliated with one, or both, of my ex boyfriends. I fee that is the reason my police report was not taken seriously by the reporting officer. In 2017, I was picked up without an arrest, or a warrant, or even for suspicion of a crime, just so that the sheriff’s department could have me strip searched at a local facility in front of their staff members. I had not even committed a crime. They tried to say that I was being strip searched and held because my parents were worried about me. My parents told me they had not contacted them at all. That day, I was targeted on the freeway, followed off the off-ramp, pulled over by a sheriff’s car (outside of their jurisdiction) and told that they wanted me searched. They would not tell me why. They did not accuse me of a crime. They simply called an ambulance and told me that I had to get into the ambulance. I wasn’t speeding. I wasn’t driving erratically. I wasn’t drunk, or on drugs. I was driving my own vehicle that I had legally purchased that year, and insured. I had never been arrested. I had never had any past criminal record at all, aside from past speeding tickets. When I arrived at the facility, a male staff member decided to watch my strip search, which was being conducted by female nurses. I am physically female and did not look male at all before shaving my head many years later. The male who watched me, was a former classmate of mine from college. He was not assigned to be part of the strip search. He was there on his own, to observe, apparently without permission from his supervisor. I want to sue. I would like to sue the local sheriff’s department for all of my pain and suffering since at least 2017. If they have any ties to the robbery of my home in 2013, then I would like to sue them for ALL of my pain and suffering.

That’s it. That’s all I wanted to say. Oh, and if any commenters want to attribute the harassment to the fact that I shave my head, just be reminded that I first shaved my head about seven year AFTER this harassment first started. I don’t care if some ex boyfriend of mine is lashing out at me, because he’s bitter and spiteful, or if it’s because he’s lonely and thinks this is a way to force an ex girlfriend back into his life; I want to be left alone. My trip to that sheriff’s facility ended with me being told that I had PTSD! A doctor was brought in to evaluate me and my past medical records (including my gallbladder removal from 2008). The doctor looked at my chart, saw that surgery, and declared that I was probably having discomfort from that surgery; prompting a PTSD diagnosis from him. I left with forms that said PTSD. I later returned to their records office to ask for a copy of my report from that day. My ex-boyfriend opened the door to the records office, wearing another man’s name badge, smiling cruelly at me, and handed me an envelope of forms. I opened the forms and the wording the doctor had used and written on the first report was changed. The papers were warm, like they came off of a printer a moment before I arrived, and the report on the form was hand-written in black ink. The ink was still wet, as if someone had just written the report a minute before I arrived. I am convinced that my ex-boyfriend rewrote forms after reprinting blank ones. There are no words that I can use to express how frustrating and dehumanizing this whole situation has been since about 2013. I have tried to find low cost lawyers. I have filed federal reports. No one seems to care. I hate to say this, but if I were black, people would care, because it would be a race issue. I’m not, though; I’m a white, female, in her mid-thirties, and absolutely no one cares.

Not sure if this is the right place, I didn't see a 7CupsOfTea on lemmy. If this is out of scope, let me know and i'll move/delete it.

For a while i've been doing game development and I have been thinking to both better develop my skillsets and engage with the community, streaming my development on YouTube or Twitch. The problem is, I am not really photogenic (i'm out of shape and working on it) and I don't think people would be interested following just another development streamer.

Also, I want a female avatar, which makes little sense as someone who identifies as a man (bi at that), which has me really self-conscious and worrying i'll be accused of sexism or egg. I've seen males using female models and don't care anyways. I'd also have to pay for a model or make one in VRoid, and i'm all so green to it. Not that I don't mind!

So, I dunno. I wish there were some tips for this to help me figure out if this is worth doing.

So I've followed Aaron Carter's public life since some time in 1998 and since his death I've tried to find a way to grieve my first parasocial relationship and understand what on earth went one with him, his life and his family.

It's slowly coalescing so now I need to get it out of my head by writing it down. I've chosen this community to share these random ramblings.

A short introduction about me: I come from a dysfunctional family. Aaron has helped me stay alive during my teenage years. Abusive people don't allow their offspring to develop an identity if they can help it. This was the one bit I clung to. Everybody made fun of me for it similar to how people made fun of early Justin Bieber fans. But this helped me hold on until I could get out. I stopped calling myself a fan around 2005 ish when I started to cotton on that Aaron liked to play the victim.

Figuring out Aaron Carter is so difficult because a) people in the entertainment business aren't known to be honest in general b) lies are a very common occurrence in drug addicts and dysfunctional families and c) the Carters in particular are very obviously changing their stories all the time. Figuring out what is actually true, what was hidden and what is a lie is thus difficult. As a result I tend to watch how all the Carters act around each other and look for stories being corrobated ideally by multiple family members multiple times.

Aaron himself has been known to lie in interviews when he was 9 already. His mother Jane complained about this in the fan book she wrote about her son 3 years later. In the beginning it was obvious lies. Aaron claimed he already broke his fingers multiple times and the draconian punishment dealt by his mother. Quickly corrected by Jane.

Even back in the 90s these stories always were about medical issues or perceived slights. And it shows how normal lying was in this family. The irony of Jane complaining about Aaron lying still is something to behold.

But three stories from this time do stick out. The first is about a scar Aaron had above his nose. Apparently toddler Aaron was unsupervised when he fell into a pool and barely survived. Jane has corroborated this story. What sticks out is that when telling the story Nick is always framed as the one who should have watched Aaron. Nick was all of 10? 12? Even this early on Nick was made to carry adult responsibilities and no one in the family questions where the actual parents were.

Another story that sticks out is that Aaron said in multiple interviews his mother was strict without elaborating. Indeed in the first home video that was commercially released Aaron is seen goofing off with everyone but Jane. I think that was his 10 year old way of verbalising being verbally and emotionally abused and the very demanding way of being worked like an adult. A former moderator once saw Jane yell at and manhandle Aaron before a concert when he didn't want to do the show. He did do the show not showing any signs of turmoil. 10 years old and well versed in hiding his emotions and pretending to enjoy it. A skill sadly familiar to me as well. How much worse it must be when there's thousands of people cheering you on like this.

The third story that sticks out is that Aaron often said he and Nick had playful fights. Jane disapproved but Aaron back then always said it was in good fun. And early on Aaron and Nicks relationship when seen in public was filled with mutual teasing, cuddles, hugs, Aaron clearly looking up to Nick and Nick often playing the role of a parent still by teaching Aaron various skills and looking out for him. There seems to have been a growing rivalry between the brothers that wasn't as well publicised.

All 5 Carter siblings also say their communication was always dysfunctional. The father Bob ruled by fear, apparently he randomly shot his gun into the air at times, the parents fought in front of the children and angrily demanded the children pick one parent over another in a divorce that wouldn't come for a few more years. Both Jane and Bob had a history with drugs already. In the House of Carter show we certainly see the siblings as adults with no conflict solution skills other than to yell at each other and occasionally become violent.

Bob seems to have been a very absentee father. Jane went hard on getting her sons into musical education hoping to turn them into famous singers early on. Bob did not agree, the lessions were too expensive. Jane clesrly won out tho and Nick was grateful for the early encouragement even after he be came estranged from Jane. Throughout the early careers of both sons Bob tends to stay home and avoid the media while Jane pushed especially Aarons career hard in classic stage mom fashion.

From what little we've seen from Bob I always wondered about how he felt about not being the main breadwinner in the family. Somebody who rules by fear doesn't tend to rejoice when their victims get fanatic levels of encouragement and a fleet of managers, bodyguards and minders. But clearly in the end he enjoyed the money too much to sabotage it.

He also was home with three daughters with no fellow adult to mitigate his worst behaviour. There's bitter claims about Bob sexually abusing middle daughter Leslie and/or Aaron. When Bob visited on House of Carters Leslie certainly does not react like a daddy's girl.

To be continued. Maybe.

Wanna say you all suck. Also vapers. You also.

I apologize in advanced for this rant, as it's very heat of the moment.
I have struggled with the social aspects of social media ever since the world shifted from MySpace to Facebook. It feels like I can't say anything without it being contentious, and no, before you bring out the pitchforks, I don't mean "omg I said something bigoted and couldn't get away with it."
I left Facebook back in 2013 because while I was dating my now-wife, I posted a short, oozy "She said she loves me back! <3 <3" which blew up into some weird thing in our respective communities, from people at her church throwing a fit, her best friend ending up in tears that she wasn't told first, her youth pastor bringing it up in class, people in my life that didn't know her complaining that either they had planned on dating me or "why don't you date someone more local?".
From that moment, I felt like the magic of conversing online was truly dead, that nothing could be said without needless ramification.
I had not posted since then on any media, passively and quietly enjoying Reddit posts, scouring Instagram, and sharing funny or thought-provoking posts with my partner. Along came Lemmy, with all of the magic of the internet of old, and fellow nerdlings ready to discuss any tech or fandom my little heart could desire. A smaller group of folks, who know that in order to help keep the community alive, you should make an effort to be an active participant.
So I did.
Granted, I have not posted much (and before you go digging through my posts to see what scandalous things that I've said, note that this is not my only account, so this isn't a datapool of only a handful of posts), but I've been trying to make an effort to join the discussion. Now, in real life, people have described me as charismatic and likeable, though it feels awkward to say it of myself, so you can imagine my surprise when the majority of my comments were responded to with rage, taking a flippant remark and mad that I didn't come with sources and thorough research, or angry that I wouldn't be on some bandwagon about what the best (name of function) company is.
I've seen several (no, I'm not including sources currently) posts on Lemmy regarding how to raise user engagement, and at the time of reading them, I got all excited and on-board with wanting to raise engagement, but with my recent experiences, I can no longer blame anyone that chooses not to participate. It's all too easy for text to be misconstrued - where inflection and tonality of voice is missed. People are mad, and rightfully so, about anything, it could be the state of the world, your local governments, how someone else on the internet treated you, or your experience with a particular product, but I am a random person trying to make light conversation on a public platform. I am not your enemy, though I can't blame others for assuming the worst of anything on the internet, a history of trolls and malicious actors have turned us into this.
I miss getting excited, rather than anxious, when I see that I have a reply.
I've seen great conversation on this platform, I know it's out there, and I know Lemmy has a wonderful, intelligent, supportive, and amazing community, so I'd love to hear your thoughts. How can we, as people, remediate this conversational tension.
Thank you in advanced, and I love you all

I need to vent. Mods, if this kind of thing isn't welcome in this community anymore...oh well. It helped me feel better at least typing my thoughts into the void.

I got married to a wonderful, beautiful woman in 2021 after being together for 5 years. My parents are big cruise fanatics. They go on vacation like this about once every year or two. We both told them before the wedding - because they did this for my brother when he got married - they can get us whatever they want for a wedding gift, just PLEASE no cruises.

And they listened! We got some very nice, very expensive bedsheets that were perfect!

Fast forward a year. I get a call. My parents booked a 4 day cruise to Mexico over the week after Christmas '23. I'm not particularly assertive, but I was offering pushback on it. I got told shit like "you're getting a free vacation" and "how many opportunities like this are you going to get" and "we tried our best to accommodate you."

My wife also didn't want it. Neither of us asked for this. But after a few months of talking about it, both of us agreed: it's free, let's give it a fair shake.

Fair shake given. We tried our best to like this. I'm writing this from my cabin docked at Cozumel. We deboarded the ship for 15 minutes and were immediately overwhelmed by the crowd. We turned around, went back to our cabin and are now sleeping the day away. Maybe we'll hit up the hot tub before everybody comes back. The crowd is too much. The longer I spend on this gargantuan vessel, the smaller it gets.

My brother, his wife, and their two small kids are also here. I think they're also pretty exhausted. It seems like my parents have gone out of their way to spend time with that foursome. As for me, I only get notifications once they're already somewhere and I have to catch up. I got a message saying "We're at Senor Frogs." I did not get "We're going to Senor Frogs. Wanna meet up?"

I feel like a piece of shit for not appreciating it. I feel invisible because I didn't ask for this. And I feel angry because I feel like an afterthought. I feel like I got invited to this because my parents wanted to spend a week with my brother's kids and I was given a ticket to tag along so I wouldn't feel left out. I wouldn't have felt left out by not being invited to something I didn't want. I wouldn't feel left out if I had been given the opportunity to say no.

I'm just burnt tf out. I want my house. With my quarter acre. And my neighbor with the stupid subwoofer. I want my bed (that doesn't rock because it's on solid ground), my cats, my dog, my plaid pajamas, my cold weather, and my coffee back at home in Oklahoma. I would have rather stayed home and built puzzles with my (also puzzle-loving) wife for a week. We are slow-paced, solitary, almost antisocial creatures. I'm wired differently from my family. And though I feel guilty for being unappreciative of their gesture, I won't feel ashamed of being different. I didn't ask to be this way.

Anyway, if you've made it this far, thanks for reading my rant. I'm done. We shove off back for the States in an hour or so. We're over the hill. We'll be home soon, and I will never do this again.

Is anyone else nauseated when they read "correlation doesn't equal causation"? Similarly "play stupid games win stupid prizes."

Some people started saying it not knowing what it was, and they'll continue saying it forever, just because.