Apologies to @etiolation, if they are still around and it's a problem, for coopting this thread.

I want to start writing. My goal is to be a famous and well-compensated pundit with lots of beautiful young groupies and first class tickets spilling out of my inbox.

I'll settle for having a minor impact making someone's life a little better.

But, I really don't know how to get started in making it useful, how to engage in a broader community of writiers and develop and connect with an audience.

So I'm reaching out to the highest quality online community of which I am a part:

Is there anyone here who knows their writing has impacted another? Would you care to share the how's, the why's, and the wherefores?

Is anyone here a part of a writing group that's open to new members? Would you share?

Is there anywone here who has made money as a writer?

My particular writing focus is how to increase the level of "goodness" in the world. I don't even yet have a fully formed idea of what I think that is, perhaps a good topic for an essay. But, I don't even really know what an essay is. Somehow I got through a liberal arts education with decent grades, but don't seem to really know diddly squat about abstract thinking. More importantly, I don't have a well defined goal of the point of anything, with one exception: connection. The only time I truly feel at peace in this world is when I feel connected to another human. And it's a thing that perhaps a lot of folks take for granted, but which I was (presumably inadvertently) trained to avoid at all costs as very young person.

So, if you have any thoughts on how to develop focus and form, and identify venue, and raise profiles and get feedback, I'd be most obliged.

All the best and all the blessings

Perhaps this is a bit of an odd conversation topic, but I just humiliated myself by dropping a bottle of red wine (for no reason whatsoever, I just cant hold thigs apparently) that I'd just paid for as I left the store.

The loud gasp from a nearby woman and the man singing 'red red wine' were both objectively funny, but I couldn't help but feel humiliated as I scrambled to clean it up. I'd also like to give a special shout-out to the man who came to help me clean it up.
I'm coming to you Tildes in an effort to feel less shame. What have you done recently, by accident or on purpose that has embarrassed you?

I feel like the general air recently has been pretty down recently, and I feel like it's been downer after downer headlines and discussion.

What are some good things that have happened to you recently? Big or small, what have you been appreciating?

I have stage four colo-rectal cancer. It's not curable. It's not particularly treatable. I'm getting palliative care, but I'm not yet end of life. They're not offering surgery or radiotherapy (yet, that may change). They are giving me chemotherapy (capecitabine and irinotecan) and immunotherapy (cetuximab).

Prognosis is difficult, but if everything goes well I have about 18 months.

I've had 6 cycles of treatment. I had a re-staging PET CT scan and the results were very good.

But, here's the thing: chemo & immuno therapy suck. I don't just mean "I feel a bit bad sometimes", I mean "I feel awful most of the time."

We've just about got nausea under control, but those meds cause constipation and that's causing problems with my stoma. And because the nausea meds are only used for the first week it means the second week I have problems with fast output, and that's causing other problems with my stoma. My stoma team and my oncology team are not particularly joined up. In theory I can build in laxido for the first week and loperamide for the second week but that's complicated because side effects are so variable. And that's just stoma output -- there's a bunch of other stuff around pain, fatigue, skin toxicity (I'm not allowed in the sun, even on bright but overcast days. I have to use three different creams, but not too much of any of them, and they're not compatible with each other), loss of appetite, etc.

One example of how healthcare isn't joined up and I'm getting conflicting advice (there are lots of these): My stoma team want me to wear a hernia support belt to prevent my hernia getting worse, and to help my stoma work properly. But this is a tight broad elastic belt going round my lower abdomen, right where my diaphragm is, and so it makes it harder for me to breath. My physio doesn't want me to wear the belt because it's interfering with fatigue treatment (which is "do more stuff, but do it slowly, and build in breaks, and FOCUS ON YOUR BREATHING"). My oncology team have no opinion and are leaving it to the other teams.

I know some people just want more life, and they don't care about side effects. "Do anything you can to give me more life". But that's not me. I'd much rather have 3 months of mostly feeling okay and then a month of active death over a year of mostly feeling fucking lousy and then a few months of active death.

I don't know how to talk to my family about this. I have spoken to my care team and they're giving me all the options - (1) continue chemo and immuno therapy on 2 week cycles until I die or until it stops working, and try to buidl in better support meds. (2) continue chemo & immuno on 2 week cycles, but build in breaks (3) stop chemo & immuno and focus on pain relief.

Some tricky decisions to be made.

This sci-fi book starts out as a first contact novel. Aliens show up and say "Your planet is dying--we're here to rescue you! Come join our galactic federation!"

Here's the twist: the protagonist emphatically refuses. The world is sick, but humanity is healing it. Successfully. They have been for decades. And they refuse to leave Earth and go explore the stars until the job is done.

Thus begins this story's major conflict. The aliens have visited a few other planets with signs of advanced civilization, and in every case they've arrived too late--the other civilizations have extincted themselves by the time they arrive. The aliens are emphatic that technological societies cannot thrive on a planet's surface; in every other case, either the planet or the civilization dies. The humans are unfazed. Repairing an ecosystem is possible, they say. We've proven it. Are proving it. Yes, there's a hurricane bearing down on us, but the storms get a little less intense every year.

This is a story about meeting people utterly unlike you and finding common ground with them. It's about imagining a better future and working doggedly toward it.

Eco-focused stories usually have a back-to-the-land, pastoral vibe; they want to get in touch with nature by reducing our use of technology as much as possible. That's not this book at all. Our heroes use neural interfaces and networked decision-making algorithms to manage the restoration of the ecology. They write algorithms that weight the vote in favor of community-defined ethical preferences. Technology isn't the enemy--corporations are, which is why the corps were exiled decades ago. Networks and algorithms can be powerfully good when they're used to benefit the many instead of the few.

This book has so much heart and so much beautiful imagery. It is gloriously weird in lots of ways I'm not going to spoil. It's a hopeful book that's giving me ideas I'm starting work on now. You can find it here or in your local library.

A little over a week ago, I got an official diagnosis of hypothyroidism from my GP. Fair warning, this post is going to be a little bit of a rambly discussion of my thoughts and feelings surrounding my diagnosis and other circumstances surrounding it.

I'm a US American, but I moved to Germany to do my master's degree in 2018 and have lived here ever since. I've struggled with depression and social anxiety since before I moved to Germany, but my symptoms got notably worse in 2020 (perhaps unsurprisingly). In late summer of 2020 my psychotherapist finally suggested I go on an SSRI, but she wanted me to get a blood test to rule out any physical causes. I went to my then-doctor and got such a blood test. Everything was within the normal range except for my TSH.

For those unfamiliar, TSH is the hormone your pituitary gland sends to tell your thyroid to get a move on. It doesn't directly measure your thyroid function, but it's a pretty good indicator something's up, so doctors use it to screen for thyroid issues. High TSH is a sign of hypothyroidism, and low TSH is a sign of hyperthyroidism. Your average person with a healthy thyroid will probably have TSH between 1.0 and 2.0, but some variation exists. The normal range that doctors use here has 4.2 as its upper limit. In 2020, my TSH value was 4.8. My doctor then said that people with hypothyroidism have higher numbers than that, so I was fine. She wrote my a prescription for a low dose of an SSRI, which did help me to an extent.

I've been fat for a long time, to different degrees. After I first moved to Germany in Fall of 2018, I quickly lost a lot of weight. There were likely a lot of factors -- I wasn't living at home where snacks were constantly stocked, I was buying food on a student's budget, I was eating out and ordering takeout less because of my social anxiety and shitty German skills, and I was walking a lot more. When I came back to the US for family vacation in 2019, I constantly got compliments about having lost weight, which felt weird. I was still overweight according to the BMI, but more of a classic midsize chubby at that time. But it wasn't to last, and I did start gaining the weight back. For a while it, I attributed this to my getting more takeout and walking less. But a year or two ago it felt like it stopped being directly attached to my activity or food consumption. I went on medication that suppressed my appetite as a side-effect, but I continued to gain weight. Since I was already fat and had been gaining weight for a while, I didn't mention anything to my doctors because I was already getting lectures about how I needed to lose weight and exercise more. I don't know for sure what I weigh right now because I've avoided weighing myself for months, because I'm scared I weigh over 100kg and I can't handle seeing that triple digit on a scale.

I've tried and failed to become more active and start an exercise routine several times. I joined a sports course at university with some of my friends, but I quit after a couple sessions because I was hyperventilating before warm-up was over. I've tried to do some basic strength training, but I'd be sore for days after even incredibly beginner-level stuff. More recently, my wife and I tried to take regular walks through the nearby park during last spring and summer. But I'd tire out after an embarrassingly short distance, not even enough to get to where we see the ducks (the highlight of the park for me). As the weather got worse in winter I basically stopped leaving the apartment. It's a struggle to put my shoes on without an extra long shoehorn so I don't have to bend over, and anything that requires me to tie my shoelaces is basically off the table.

I've been struggling with work for the past several months. I can't seem to focus on it, even if I take my ADHD medication. I look at the computer screen and I just can't mentally handle the work. Every day of work is exhausting, even though I work a pretty cushy job as a data scientist and I work from home. I do way less than 40 hours of actual work a week but I'm still too physically and mentally exhausted all the time to do anything but the most trivial household chores. I haven't cooked dinner for myself in months (thank God for my wife).

I switched to a new GP at the beginning of 2024 bc I was having trouble getting timely appointments at my last one. We agree to do one big blood test covering everything, since I have a myriad of small complaints and it's been years since I've had one. That test comes back mostly normal, except my cholesterol is a little high and my TSH is a smidge above 5. My new GP then says we should do a follow-up blood test to look at other thyroid measurements (this would be directly measuring the hormones my thyroid produces) to see if I have hypothyroidism. I mention offhandedly the interaction I had with my old GP in 2020 and she says that's not how you're supposed to do that; high TSH means further testing even if it's not that high. A few weeks and another blood test later and I've now got a new diagnosis and a prescription for artificial thyroid hormone.

It turns out that pretty much everything I've been struggling with for years now? May be because of my underactive thyroid. Your thyroid is apparently pretty damn important and it not working right (in either direction) can result in a truly dizzying amount of things going wrong. Depression, brain fog, fatigue, and weight gain are all pretty classic symptoms, but apparently it can also cause problems with your lungs or even contribute to carpal tunnel syndrome. Everyone with a properly-functioning thyroid, take a moment to thank that lil butterfly-shaped guy in your neck.

I'm so glad to have something that's basically a "feel better" pill now. But I'm left with a sense of deep frustration that I've had so many problems that even I dismissed to myself because I assumed they were just cause I was a stupid out-of-shape Fatty. It turns out it's actually not normal for someone in their mid-20s at my age to struggle to put on their own shoes without assistance, even when they're obese. Being unable to take a short walk without needing to sit down because I'm exhausted and out of breath isn't just because I'm fat and out of shape. I've had no shortage of symptoms heavily impacting my life, but most of them I hadn't even bothered to mention to my doctor because I assumed they were just Me Being Fat and that all I'd get was (yet another) lecture.

This is, of course, coupled with a lot of anger at my old doctor for not even running any follow-up tests. I've only been on levothyroxine for about a week and I already feel like I have a little more energy. I could have been spared years of suffering if that doctor had only done what she was supposed to. Fuck that.

But at the same time, I feel such relief. This all wasn't just me being a bad and lazy person. There was actually something wrong. And, even better, hypothyroidism is pretty easy to treat. I just wish I hadn't gone through over three years of unnecessary suffering when I could have gotten this treatment then.

I have no idea how to word this, as every similar post that I've seen has had an obvious cause, in some way shape or form. I, on the other hand, feel pretty shitty even writing this up know that others have actual problems that I am taking that visibility from.

When I wake up, I get to go to work a job that mentally stimulates me, teaches me new things (both in terms of a legacy system and in terms of new technology), and lets me work from home 3/5 days a week. On top of that, I have a very solid housing situation where I don't need to worry about rent being raised. I have a (reliable) car that only needs routine maintanence, and has very good MPG. I have a dog that I love, and would easily die for without a second thought. I have family living nearby, that, while we don't agree religiously or politically most times, can all get along and enjoy holidays or get togethers.

And yet, feel like I lied about my life just now.

When I wake up, the first thought isn't that my dog is waking me up to go out, it is the feeling of the weight that merely existing seems to put on me. As I just stated earlier, my job is not the cause of stress, neither is housing, nor food, nor family. I have no reason to feel the way that I do.

I've recently (in the last 6 months) started journaling, and the main theme that I have found is that I am constantly thankful for having everything that I do. And yet, tomorrow, when I open my eyes, either due to the alarm, or due to my dog waking me up to go outside, I will have a weight laying over my chest that I can only attribute to the fact that I still exist.

I try to ignore the news (while staying informed enough to vote properly on candidates), I don't use social media except for Tildes and to share the once a week or two photo on Instagram, and I am both active physically, and creatively. None of this seems to remove the weight. I feel like I am either wasting my existence when I am consuming media, wasting my time attempting to create when others have voices or messages with stronger meaning, or wasting other's time when I hang around them.

I have no right to complain about my life. Hell, two years ago I would have killed for what I have now. And, yet, I feel like I am wasting what I have been given. I am legitimately happiest sitting out in my backyard with my dog, either sipping a beer or just watching the stars. The issue is, that when I do, a weight slowly lays itself over me, one that I do not know the cause of, or reason for. A weight that I cannot shake, and can only attribute to simply existing.

I would like so very much, even temporarily, to remove it.

I'm 46 years of age. My childhood and youth and post-youth life wasn't traumatic or anything. I had an okay life. I guess I might even have had a good life. But for some reason, reminiscing about it just doesn't feel pleasant. Some folks find talking about their past highly enjoyable. So why don't I like it? Is this normal?

To start: I was taught in the 90s when I first entered the "internet" that "everything online is public. The End."
I still adhere to that. I am perhaps a bit overly cautious and whatnot, as I will forego convenience to have the feeling of privacy (though in some cases I believe it's just a smokescreen).

That being said, the main premise to my question is this: I have three cards with which I pay for things. I have a debit card which I use for most purchases, a credit card I use for large purchases I can't immediately cover with my bank account, and a credit card for two specific payments. Every December my company gifts all employees a $100 Visa gift card. I tend to splurge on things I'd rather not have show up in my bank account or credit card, because I feel my purchase habits are tracked (similar as to when I put in a local brewery into Waze... and yeah, I use Waze.)

And now to my actual question: is there a credit company, or a method of credit/debit card I can utilize that will not track/share/etc my personal or purchase info? I had never thought of this idea, aside from the gift cards which usually come with some form of caveat (you lose money on fees for a prepaid card, or you can lose your balance if not spent in a certain time frame, etc) until just now I guess. I found privacy.com which looks kind of legit, but ... I'm always skeptical to start.

All that being said, if you could offer any advice or thoughts on the matter, I would greatly appreciate it. Thanks!

(Edit: the original reason I ask this is because I was thinking that I use Discord a lot and would like to throw a few bucks their way and customize my profile or something "fun" like that, but I do not want them to have my info.)

The book Emotional Agility ascribes the following characteristics to values:

• They are freely chosen
• They are not goals - they are ongoing, rather that fixed
• They guide you, rather than constrain you

And suggests reflecting on the following questions to identify what your values are, if you don't know:

• Deep down, what matters to me?
• What relationships do I want to build?
• What do I want my life to be about?
• What kinds of situations make me feel the most alive?
• If you woke up and all your material concerns were taken care of, what would you do?

So - what are your values? Did you know them prior to this post, and if so, when did you figure it out?

Recently I have been trying to learn a new language, because I need to more so than I want to, and it's been really tough. While this isn't a shocking revelation, I had a bit of a deep dive to try and think about how and why I don't like learning a language. I do enjoy learning about a great deal of other things in my spare time, why not this?

So I pose the following questions to you:

• What kind of thing do you enjoy learning about?
• Do you find a specific format or type of learning helps you when it's tough?
• Do you always use the same format of learning?
• What do you not enjoy learning? Why? Try and explain what it is that makes it difficult compared to above.

Be interested to hear how different people feel.

I wrote a blog post for basically my first time ever. It's a first draft, but whatever. I never share my thoughts because I lack confidence, but I want to work on that. I welcome criticism of the way I've presented my thoughts, but my main priority is just discussing Starfield here! I want to hear what y'all think, mainly about the world of Starfield.

I was starry eyed when I first launched Starfield, but it ultimately left me feeling spaced out. After spending around 25 hours with the game I've realized that I wanted something different from Starfield, and that the game just doesn't keep my mind engaged and imagination running. I feel some guilt saying that. It took a buttload of human working hours to bring Starfield to fruition after all, and I don't want to dismiss that work. It's a very pretty game, with a lot of mechanics, characters, and stories. On paper, it's an ideal game for me. It's a first person adventure through the stars meeting strangers and ogling at alien planets packed in with loot and rpg elements. That's my kind of treadmill to be running on. The type of game loop I enjoy. Ultimately though, it did not fill the space in my head that I wanted it to.

Starting with the core game play, it's what I had the least expectations for. I am no Bethesda mega fan, but I've dabbled in their games. Their combat, stealth, traversal and so on have always registered as just serviceable to me. That's not really even a criticism as I've never gotten the impression that Bethesda's intention was to draw fans on those elements. They want to provide a simple set of tools to interact with their worlds. The tools they've provided here in Starfield feel fine. They all work. Gun play feels fine, traversal feels fine, stealth feels fine. It's the way those tools interact with their environments, characters, and narration that typically attract me, but don't here. Even their newest game play addition in space ship combat echoes their standard approach. It feels simple but solid. No extravagance like a Star Fox 64 barrel roll, but there's enough going on to feel good. Like the rest of the tool set, it's serviceable enough to let the player interact with their world. The world is what has left me cold.

Bethesda introduces us to Starfield's world in a baffling place, a place almost opposite to space, a mine. Sure, they planet isn't Earth, but it might as well be Earth. It's dark, dirty, rocky and far from a feast for the eyes. It's no surprise that mines are in the game as Bethesda has always included similar spaces in their games. Such environments are perfect for stuffing loot and combat encounters into, but imagine if Skyrim had began in a cave instead of out in its beautiful landscape. Starfield could've opened in space on a ship or on a number of visually alien worlds, and I think it's a misstep to begin the player in the most unappealing of its environments. Unfortunately, I think it's telling of a large part of the way you will be seeing Starfield's world. From a lot of interior spaces. It's often easy to forget that I'm playing a sci-fi game set in an open world space setting.

Starfield's world looks like what I imagine it would look like if human space colonization were to actually happen. In that regard, I think they were incredibly successful. It's the realization of this image that I think held Starfield back. Just like a lot of our own real universe, it is often empty and dull. Many landscapes of the planets and moons of Starfield, while sometimes pretty, are more often unremarkable. Procedural generation is an incredible tool that can easily lead to unimaginative results. I'm never able to escape the thought that what I'm looking at was probably computer generated. After visiting around 15 planets, I began to feel as though I'd seen it all before, just in different colors. Often fauna and foliage looked strange but lacked a certain spark of hand crafted creativity. I was never struck by their beauty nor their horror but only their only seemingly random assortment of attributes. On planets with human inhabitants their lacked personality in their work and living spaces with exceptions being the hand crafted major settlements. Buildings and structures felt modular and mass produced by the same manufacturer. All of this is probably an accurate depiction of a real future where we branched out into space, but it doesn't make for a fun video game to see and soak in. Major cities like New Atlantis and Akira City lent much more life to Starfield's world with obvious heart put into their creation. You can see their influences from the sci-fi genre in their construction. Instead of aiming for a large and marketable open world, it's a smaller handcrafted galaxy I wish we would have gotten. Somewhere with its own politics and drama taking place on landscapes with intent and personality. A larger existing universe could be hinted at with follow ups in sequels. Bethesda is bursting at the seems with creative talent, but there was simply too much space to make aesthetically daring from every angle. Instead that talent was stretched an inch thin and a mile wild.

The inhabitants of Starfield are offensively inoffensive and so dry they'll leave you parched. They're boring, full stop. They lack nuance and detail in their personalities. They begin and end at their core archetypes. The meaning of their existence is only to facilitate the player and be impressed by you. In my 25 hours of play, I didn't find my self endeared to any character except for a sweet old grandma exploring space, but I only liked her because I like that trope. Characters are very formal and professional which I believe was Bethesda's intent. After all, the context of most every interaction has you acting in an official capacity for one of the factions. You're a representative for the professional work these factions are doing, like being a volunteer cop for the United Colonies or Freestar Collective's Rangers or an explorer-researcher for the stuffy Constellation. It makes sense that conversations would be formal, professional, and often to the point. Ultimately that just doesn't make for compelling conversation. I engage with fiction, especially genre fiction, for its strong sense of personality. The characters I found in Starfield feel like they're just going through the motions of their 9 to 5 job. Their framing as a talking head when having conversations with them only highlights their stiffness.

I believe Starfield is a well-done realization of Bethesda's intent. It's a very corporate and made by committee vision, but it's well executed. It seems they wanted to create a world that resembles a legitimate future where humans leave Earth and colonize the stars. The result is barren unremarkable planets, sterile labs, boring mining and manufacturing facilities, mass produce modular homes, and plenty of empty space. I think they're right, this is what a settled galaxy looks like, but it just doesn't make for a satisfying video game.

edit: fixed spelling from "feel" to "fill"

I wanted to give an update to something I wrote about a while back, because i have something to show for it and wanted to express some gratitude.

Behold!

I used the eraser tool on the bottom part, we have a business line but we're not open yet. When we are I'll have some more pictures and it'll be included.

That old post was the first time I had committed most of that to writing, and it was really encouraging for folks to take an interest, especially Akir's questions. Being asked and writing out the answers helped me clarify further, what I was intending to do and how I would get there. So, for the folks who read that, I wanted to share an update.

I'm really confident about this endeavor. It makes me anxious to say that but I've come to learn the position we're in just could not be better. Part of getting it started is forming an LLC, so I've gotten some time to talk with folks more professionally connected to the town. From what I gather, we don't actually have much direct competition. That's because the local venues are very high priced, and primarily do weddings. With some of them, it sounds like a case of possibly resting on laurels - one story was of a wedding, $10,000, which did not include things like tables and chairs and the house was not clean. Each venue charges quite a lot, I think because they're renting out most of their own supplies. We don't have to do that - we have enough already to accommodate up to around 150 people, and the space can accommodate up to ~350 if they're hanging out outside. We can do an event like that 10k wedding for around 3k with stuff provided.

No one offers stuff that's smaller scale. At least with all the places I researched, it's just weddings. No one really tries to host things like, say, a dinner for a local business, school groups, smaller parties. The first event we're set to do, is a tea party for around 30 people (it's for a little girl's birthday). I got to speak with someone who owns a local accounting firm, and learned from them what we are planning to do is pretty much an unserved market. Folks want to be able to go someplace nice that isn't a restaurant. The lowest priced venue sits around ~$3500, and that's just the price of being there. Bear in mind, this is Brookhaven, MS - it isn't a wealthy place by any stretch. The venues currently operating seem to be relying on folks finding them online, and catering to those higher end kinds of events (again, it's mostly just weddings. Some of them do bed and breakfast but it's clearly not what their branding is about). We have practically no overhead, no loans, no investors, and our plan targets stuff that isn't available but is in regular demand. We're doing a few small events to get some practical knowledge and in May we'll open officially.

There's a separate story in there, of two independent folks figuring out how to live together. Neither of us is used to having someone around to do things. Changing my environment has meant being more productive and motivated, which has been pretty nice. Grandma rocks, that's really all there is to it. It really feels like having chosen to do something at precisely the right time, at least with respect to making the business work. I can't speak to the more lofty goals and ideals, because I haven't gotten far enough yet for those to really enter the picture. Upcoming: Business cards, a pamphlet, posters. There's opportunities for advertising that are either free or quite cheap. The print shop owner can get an ad out to 10,000 in the local area for around $500, which I think will have to be good because they're the only folks doing a mailer. That's the only consistent issue, things just move more slowly here and choice is extremely limited. I came here from a city of ~1m, so I guess I had gotten pretty used to having about a bajillion choices. On the other hand, it's been very easy to get the beginnings of a professional network going. I grew up in a place like this, so getting along is no big deal, and everybody knows everybody. A good first impression means something; a good conversation travels. Folks have loved the idea thus far, and have been nothing but encouraging. I don't ramble about the long term plan with anyone, ya'll are the only folk who really got that. As I go along I intend to see how that all shakes out, give an account of how it takes shape. I appreciate folks checking it out and responding. Happy to report anything you're interested in.

Anyway, that is it for now. I hope to return with some cool stuff from a big reopening party. I wasn't sure where this should go so I figured ~misc would work.

Follow up to this post

I did my first ever platelet donation!

This one was a bit more intimidating than the blood donation. For platelets, the donation takes around two hours not counting the onboarding time. Additionally, during the donation, you can’t move either of your arms, as you have needles in both. The blood draws from one arm, goes into a centrifuge where they separate out the platelets, and then your blood gets returned to you in your other arm.

I was a little worried about how it was going to go leading up to the appointment, but I’m very happy to report that everything went fine! All of the needles went in easily and it was a nearly painless process. After that it was actually kind of boring! They had a screen with Netflix on it, so I watched three episodes of a TV show.

My least favorite part of the whole thing was not being able to scratch an itch when one arose, which is not so much a complaint as it is an endorsement. If the worst I can say is that I couldn’t scratch my nose once or twice during a multi-hour process involving multiple needles and my blood leaving and re-entering my body, then I’d say it went really well!

The staff kept checking in to see if I needed a blanket because most people feel cold when donating platelets, but, weirdly, I actually liked the chilled sensation I got? It wasn’t like a regular “cold” feeling; I found it genuinely pleasant.

Also, the whole experience was an interesting experiment in forced attention. I couldn’t check my phone, so I just watched a show, uninterrupted. I can’t remember the last time I did that? I got home and tried to continue watching it and, sure enough, now that my arms were free I was looking at my email and checking messages and the news instead of paying attention to what I had on. The whole donation session had a genuinely nice, calm, almost meditative quality to it. It was a nice way to start out a Saturday.

You can donate platelets separately from blood, and platelets have a much lower “donation cooldown” (you can donate them every seven days). I don’t think I’ll be keeping to that rapid of a turnaround, but I’m going to start doing it once a month. One thing I learned from this is that, unlike blood which can be stored for up to a year (edit: turns out it’s only 42 days), platelets have to be used within five days, so they’re pretty much constantly in demand because they can’t be stockpiled.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my little mini-milestone with everyone here. The novelty of being able to donate as a gay guy still hasn’t worn off for me. I love the idea of being able to do it regularly and support people over time!

Let's hear about religious and spiritual (maybe philosophical?) beliefs not considered "mainstream" in the modern West.

The percentage of people who identify as "spiritual", "other", or "none" is rising at the expense of larger "organized" religions.

Disclaimer: it's hard if not impossible to draw hard lines around what is considered a "religion" verses a philosophy, culture, or mere ritual or traditional practice. If you aren't sure if what you believe fits the prompt, err on the side of sharing.

Things that probably fit the prompt:

• Minority religions
• Native beliefs/cultures
• Highly syncretic beliefs
• Non-western religions or beliefs
• "Pagan" beliefs
• Esoteric or occult beliefs or practices

Things that might not fit the prompt

• Mainstream Christian beliefs or traditions
• Naturalism or a lack of belief in any particular religious or spiritual tradition

I don't exclude these two categories because they aren't important, but because they are incredibly important, and most of what we think about religious or spiritual beliefs exist in frameworks created by the above two groups. I want to use this opportunity to learn about others, and I feel that I already know a good bit more about atheism and mainstream Christian theism than most other perspectives.

This is a sensitive subject that is tied deeply to people's sense of meaning; please treat your fellow commentor's beliefs, cultures, and values with respect. Thank you in advance for your input and perspective.

One of the qualities I appreciate the most in people is generosity, however I’ve come to realise that I am not particularly generous and I don’t think many people in my family are either.

I try my best to help people as much as I can at work, but I can’t say I’ve done much more than that.

I’d love to hear what you do to be generous.

I'm not here to talk about the New York Times bestseller, so apologies to anyone who's come looking for an informed discussion on that. Apologies if I'm posting this in the incorrect place, please move or delete the post if it's inappropriate. I had something of a breakthrough in therapy recently and I don't have anyone to share this with (for reasons that may become obvious) so I'm turning to Tildes to vomit these thoughts out into the world somewhere.

Like a lot of us growing older, I've been spending a some time trying to better understand myself and come to peace with the person I am. One of the aspects people around me (and myself) find perplexing is how I'm able to be personable and friendly, even popular in some circles, but given the choice I will stay away from people as much as possible (except for a very select few I can count on one hand). I often joke that if it weren't for my wife and kids I'd probably be feral and live in the woods, bite anyone who tries to get too close. That lady that lived alone in a cave for over a year? Life goals. I thought I was just a mega introvert, but something my therapist and I discussed made me realise that that side of my personality may be (at least partly?) a manifestation of past trauma. So here is my villain origin story.

I've shared before on Tildes that I was very sick with cancer for a good chunk of my infancy. Whenever someone finds out I had cancer (it's left fairly visible marks, so the topic inevitably comes up) I always say it's ok, I don't remember it at all, so really it's my parents who lived through the trauma, not me, ha ha. I no longer believe that is entirely true. The body does keep the score after all. My therapist pointed out that I must have spent many moments alone dealing with the consequences, unable to fully share or understand what I was going through. Moments where I was physically manipulated whichever way, by people and instruments, dealing the nausea, the pain and the fatigue. I was too young to fully articulate my distress, ask for help (beyond crying) or seek solutions to the problems I faced. So for some moments at least I had only myself to rely on. Did the part of me that would normally seek out others die a little then?

My parents used to remark that as a child I never cried out, just tears streaming silently down my face. They speak of how I used to play contentedly alone for hours. How I rarely asked for help when I really needed it. Don't get me wrong, I'm able to form relationships with people, and I'm perfectly capable of functioning in society. I do seek out others for company, connection, validation, love, etc, and vice versa. But I can't shake the feeling that there's something broken in those connections. It feels like something is amiss, even if I've mostly come to terms with being this way. I'm left thinking - did the trauma (at least partly) make me who I am? Where does the trauma end and where do I begin? How many of us are potentially totally different people today because the body remembers when we have completely and utterly forgotten? And if that's the case, is that...ok?

I think I first came across "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas" by Ursula K LeGuin a few years ago. I read something else in conversation with it, but somehow had missed the original. Hugo Award winning and Locus award nominated, I thought folks might be interested in discussing it and its descendants.

LeGuin's original in pdf format

Omelas is a utopia in the middle of a festival. And as the narrator explains the city to you, they understand that you may not believe it is even possible.

Othe authors have written stories in conversation with this,

NK Jemisin's The Ones Who Stay And Fight is directly engaging with it.

The Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik (the 3rd Scholomance book) engages with this idea too.

So I had read all of the above works and been mulling over the topic of Omelas, and then found this story today

Why Don't We Just Kill the Kid In the Omelas Hole

In which people, uh, start killing the kid in the Omelas hole. Sorry, not a lot of room not to spoil that given the title. I'll let you read the story for where that goes.

Risk of spoilers for the above works from here:
I think there is a lot about our society here. LeGuin herself said the story, "has a long and happy career of being used by teachers to upset students and make them argue fiercely about morality." Because what is the right answer? Novik, via El in the Scholomance series says to burn it down. Jemisin says there is a better way. I don't believe LeGuin is arguing that the ones who walk away are "right" in that they leave having benefited from Omelas and the child still suffers.

But I thought folks who hadn't read one or more of these might enjoy them, and I find they make me think and often won't stop letting me think.

ETA: ST:SNW did an entire episode using Omelas as an inspiration. I haven't seen it so I can't speak to it but wanted to add it here for reference.

Recently had a conversation with a good friend about dating, and it had me curious about how everyone on Tildes approaches dating. Tell me a bit about how you date! Here's a few prompts/thoughts I'm curious about:

• How long does it take for you to know if you're attracted to someone (sexually, romantically, emotionally, shared interests, etc)?
• What do you like to do when you date and does it change depending on how many dates you've been on or how well you know the person?
• Once you start dating someone, how long does it take you to understand whether you want to date the person long term or whether it's not going to work out?
• Do you only date people you meet in real life or do you use dating apps? How do you approach going from stranger to dating them?
• What's most important in deciding whether you want to date someone? Do they need to have an interest in activities you enjoy, shared values, emotional intelligence, a certain kind of humor, or something else?
• Is there something you don't understand about dating and want to share your frustration?

What are some of the lessons you've learned about life, love, gender, personhood, etc. because of your LGBT identity?

What wisdom can you share with others here -- whether they share an identity with you or not?

Also, "LGBT" here is being used as an umbrella term as it is in our community name of ~lgbt. It applies to any and all minority sexualities and gender identities. You do not have to be listed in the initialism to answer!

Just wondering what the sense is from others. Is it even a thing that you notice if you are in a more detached, work from home setting? Were “things different in my day, harumph!”

This isn’t intended to be a ranting thread on millennials or such. But I’m rather genuinely curious what is considered “normal” in terms of work ethic and work attitudes.

Inspired by this amazing post and the subsequent discussion about the need for more queer joy:

What's a recent queer milestone you've reached/experienced in your life?

It can be something big, but it can also be something small but still meaningful. It can be an event (coming out!), a realization (oh so THAT'S who I am!), a feeling (dress go spinny!), a moment (holding hands!), a recognition (they used male pronouns!), or anything else that is distinctly queer and noteworthy.

Share what it is, what you think about it, and why it's meaningful.

Follow-up to this post
(Summary: previously ineligible to give due to US FDA rules aimed at gay/bi men which were changed last year, then subsequently ineligible due to anemia which was resolved with an iron supplement)

I gave my first ever pint of blood this weekend!

The appointment went fine. I was a little nervous about the needle going into my arm, but I barely felt it. Taking the bandage off afterwards hurt way more! Even the finger prick at the beginning was worse. The actual blood donation part of the whole thing was painless and effortless.

I had no idea that the machine rocks your blood bag back and forth while it’s filling. As I sat there killing time during the donation, I watched my blood in its little cradle. It felt cute in a weird way?

Once my donation is processed, I’ll finally learn my blood type. My husband and I plan to start doing this regularly. There’s a donation center near(ish) us that’s easy to get to, and the staff were great. I might even try a platelet donation eventually, though that one intimidates me a bit. The idea of 2-3 hours with no use of either of my arms makes me nervous.

Anyway, I know donating blood is not a huge deal or anything, but I wanted to share a little mini-milestone of mine. As a gay guy, I spent a big portion of my life assuming I’d never be able to donate blood, so it feels really cool to finally get to do it!

When I was reading a Psmith novel, I couldn't help but notice that Psmith had a certain similarity with Douglas Addams character Dirk Gently. I can't say for sure if it has any validity, or if it is just make-believe patterns in random chaos. But regardless, these are my observations.

Svlad Cjelli. Popularly known as Dirk, though, again, ‘popular’ was hardly right.
Notorious, certainly; sought after, endlessly speculated about, those too were true. But popular? Only in the sense that a serious accident on the motorway might be popular -- everyone slows down to have a good look, but no one will get too close to the flames. Infamous was more like it. Svlad Cjelli, infamously known as Dirk.

—Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Addams

Thus were Dirk Gently introduced. But who is this Psmith fellow anyways? He is the titular character in a series of novels by P. G. Wodehouse, a great humorist who happens to be Douglas Adams favorite author. Douglas Addams writing, I’ve noticed, share the same whimsical mastery of language:

Deep in the rain forest it was doing what it usually does in rain forests, which was raining: hence the name.

and

Richard stood transfixed for a moment or two, wiped his forehead again, and gently replaced the phone as if it were an injured hamster.

—Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Addams

While both characters have changed their name to something much more fancyful, their motivation contrasts greatly. Psmith wanted a fancier name, simple as that; Dirk Gently, on the other hand, changed his name repeatedly to avoid being held accountable for a lifetime of blatant hustling and has finally ended up with Dirk Gently:

'My dear Svlad.'
'Dirk, please, if you would,' said Dirk, grasping his hand warmly, 'I prefer it. It has more of a sort of Scottish dagger feel to it, I think. Dirk Gently is the name under which I now trade. There are certain events in the past, I'm afraid, from which I would wish to disassociate myself.
—Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Addams

Enter Psmith:

A small maid-of-all-work appeared in answer to the bell, and stood transfixed as the visitor, producing a monocle, placed it in his right eye and inspected her through it.
“A warm afternoon,” he said cordially.
“Yes, sir.”
“But pleasant,” urged the young man. “Tell me, is Mrs. Jackson at home?”
“No, sir.”
“Not at home?”
“No, sir.”
The young man sighed.
“Ah well,” he said, “we must always remember that these disappointments are sent to us for some good purpose. No doubt they make us more spiritual. Will you inform her that I called? The name is Psmith. P-smith.”
“Peasmith, sir?”
“No, no. P-s-m-i-t-h. I should explain to you that I started life without the initial letter, and my father always clung ruggedly to the plain Smith. But it seemed to me that there were so many Smiths in the world that a little variety might well be introduced. Smythe I look on as a cowardly evasion, nor do I approve of the too prevalent custom of tacking another name on in front by means of a hyphen. So I decided to adopt the Psmith. The p, I should add for your guidance, is silent, as in phthisis, psychic, and ptarmigan. You follow me?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“You don’t think,” he said anxiously, “that I did wrong in pursuing this course?”
“N-no, sir.”
“Splendid!” said the young man, flicking a speck of dust from his coat-sleeve. “Splendid! Splendid!”

— Leave it to Psmith by P. G. Wodehouse

As mentioned, Dirk Gently is a hustler. One of those enterprising characters who will push themselves tirelessly and unrelenting in order to aquire cash or commodities without labour. Earlier, he had cast himself as a psychic, something which backfired with terrible hybris. When we finally encounter him, he has ended up as a detective, seemingly specializing in searching for, but not actually finding, the lost cats of old ladies:

'Yes,' continued Dirk into the phone, 'but as I have endeavoured to explain to you, Mrs Sauskind, over the seven years of our acquaintance, I incline to the quantum mechanical view in this matter. My theory is that your cat is not lost, but that his waveform has temporarily collapsed and must be restored. Schrödinger. Planck. And so on.'
—Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Addams

Psmith, by contrast, is no hustler, but fall squarely into the trickster archetype. Think Loki, who tricks the blind Hodr into killing Balder. Think the Joker, whose terror is its own reasoning. Psmith, by his own admission, is bored. He may steal umbrellas and impersonate poets in order to woe a certain girl, but one suspect that the girl is merely a pretext for the means.

Both characters share the same flamboyant ignorance of the fuckedupness of their antics. Compare Dirk Gentlys quantum cat theory to Psmiths approach to being accused of umbrella thievery:

“Mr. Walderwick was in here a moment ago, sir,” said the attendant.

“Yes?” said Psmith, mildly interested. “An energetic, bustling soul, Comrade Walderwick. Always somewhere. Now here, now there.”

“Asking about his umbrella, he was,” pursued the attendant with a touch of coldness.

“Indeed? Asking about his umbrella, eh?”

“Made a great fuss about it, sir, he did.”

“And rightly,” said Psmith with approval. “The good man loves his umbrella.”

“Of course I had to tell him that you had took it, sir.”

“I would not have it otherwise,” assented Psmith heartily. “I like this spirit of candour. There must be no reservations, no subterfuges between you and Comrade Walderwick. Let all be open and above-board.”

“He seemed very put out, sir. He went off to find you.”

“I am always glad of a chat with Comrade Walderwick,” said Psmith. “Always.”

— Leave it to Psmith by P. G. Wodehouse

When the girl feel some reservations upon learning that the umbrella he so gallantly lend her was stolen gods, he casually brush it off:

“Merely practical Socialism. Other people are content to talk about the Redistribution of Property. I go out and do it.”

Psmiths outre clash of upperclass lifestyle and socialist glamour is mirrored in Dirk Gentlys clash between the private detective business and holistic new-age mumble-jumble:

'I'm very glad you asked me that, Mrs Rawlinson. The term 'holistic' refers to my conviction that what we are concerned with here is the fundamental interconnectedness of all things. I do not concern myself with such petty things as fingerprint powder, telltale pieces of pocket fluff and inane footprints. I see the solution to each problem as being detectable in the pattern and web of the whole. The connections between causes and effects are often much more subtle and complex than we with our rough and ready understanding of the physical world might naturally suppose, Mrs Rawlinson.
'Let me give you an example. If you go to an acupuncturist with toothache he sticks a needle instead into your thigh. Do you know why he does that, Mrs Rawlinson?'
'No, neither do I, Mrs Rawlinson, but we intend to find out. A pleasure talking to you, Mrs Rawlinson. Goodbye.'

Psmiths socialism bend is merely a humble joke. The quirky disrespect for property laws and insistance on calling other men "Camrade" is highly amusing, surely, but also a bit on the nose, lazy creativity which everyone else knowing nothing about socialism would come up with. On the other hand, with Dirk Gently, the holistic approach to detective work is mirrored in the novel themes and plotting. In contrast to the way Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy gleefully throws around outlandish scifi mindfuckery with absolutly no relevance to the plot, Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency is a beautifully orchestrayed mystery where "everything is connected". (for another tightly plotted mystery novel in the fantastic genre, I can recommend Who Censored Roger Rabbit)

Another difference is that Dirk Gently is much more complex and deep, his casual money grapping contrasted with a moral compass of sorts. Both are clowns, but we get to see one of them after the show, devoid of pancake makeup.

This can be something you want to tell a specific person in your life, or something that you want to tell anyone but are unable to (for any reason).

Share it here instead.

Also, for everyone reading the things posted here, please be empathetic and understanding. Remember that the person posting knows their situation far better than we do.

I don't have aphantasia - I can generally imagine things pretty vividly. I also don't have face blindness - I am perfectly able to recognize faces when I see them.

I just can't remember any faces. And I don't just mean someone I barely know or someone I haven't seen in a while. I can literally be looking at a person who I know really well, but as soon as I turn away, I immediately have zero clue about what they look like. I don't know what my parents look like, or my friends, or even myself. Everything else - the body, the hair - that I can picture just fine.

What's also interesting though is that I can imagine photos of people. So, for example, I have no idea what my face looks like and I can't imagine it, but if there is a photo of myself that I remember, then I can imagine that specific photo in great detail, including my face. But as soon as I change the photo in any way in my imagination, I stop seeing my face again. This also works with other people, not just me.

Does anyone else here experience that?

Maybe everyone knows this, but I suspect not. For years, I've been using the points I earn on a Chase Freedom card directly on Amazon. I just found out today that I'm only getting 80% of the value. Redeeming 26,345 points at Amazon yields $210.76. Redeeming 26,345 points on the Chase website (for an Amazon gift card) yields $263.45.

The Chase Amazon Prime Visa does give 100% of value directly on Amazon's site.

I’ve noticed that when I’m not at work, I’m at the house and even when I think of going out, I can’t think of anything to do.

I enjoy going to the movies, but that’s pretty much the only getting out I do. When I hang out with friends, it’s typically to bars, but I’m feeling unfulfilled drinking to drink.

What is there to do?

Don't really know the best way to describe this. But I bet people do know the feeling.

It's Sunday, all my chores are out of the way, and I have time to do anything, but instead I find myself not being able to decide what I want to do. I am turning on various games, looking at the title screen for a bit than turning them off again. I pick up my guitar, mess around for a few minutes then put it down again. I think about a creative project I could start, but then decide to not when I imagine how much effort it would take. Then I go back to scrolling various websites, not really interested in anything, cause it's all the same all the time. The weather is way too cold and ugly for me to go outside, so I just don't know what to do. The only nice thing is that I am listening to music in the mean time...

Apple recently released a journal app in their latest iOS update. I used to journal when I was younger and thought it would be a good opportunity to get back into it. I usually use it as a reflection of my day, but some days nothing happens and I feel like there's probably a plethora of things I could be writing about.

So for those of you who journal what do you like to write in it?

I live in the EU. I recently applied for a credit card, and the banker asked me (about my job): "Is it a management role?"

I realized that it is a question I have been asked several times in the past by banks. I tried a cursory google & Reddit search, but I haven't found anyone being curious about this.

I'll try here then. Does anyone know why bankers ask this question? How does it matter? Are "individual contributors" seen as worse/riskier customers than managers?

I have my own informal, anecdotal opinion, but I'm hoping to hear some more informed answer.

Paradise is an exciting action sci fi with a really interesting premise. What if eternal youth, was available to anyone with money... yet it involved literally sucking the life force out of others less fortunate than yourself?



The movie focuses on Max, who after his wife is unexpectedly forced to give up 40 years of her life, he desperately searches for a way to get her youth back.

The movie is filled with the usual plot twists, cool sci fi graphics, true love and the like.



There are two truly interesting elements to this movie. The first is the cynical idea that if the rich could live forever, then they would be much more motivated to think about and solve for the long term health of the planet.

In this movie, only the rich can afford to extend their lives for as long as they choose, so we also see how that would severely impact wealth inequality. 



The second interesting element of this movie is a series of questions very similar to the trolley problem. If you could extend your life, at the cost of someone else's youth, would you, assuming they were somehow reimbursed financially?

What if your youth had been taken from you; or what if youth had been taken from someone you loved. Would you take it back? Would you take it back as ethically as possible, or ethics be damned?

Could you give up your youth to save a loved one from an extremely unkind yet uncertain end, or is it easier to risk your life to save theirs than it is to give up eternal youth once you have it?



At one point in the movie, we learn it is easier to take someones life passively through the forces of economics and medical science, than it is to actively kill someone with a gun to their head. Which is the essence of the trolley problem. But it is also the essence of wealth inequality.

We could easily flip the switch, to improve the quality of life and length of life for many people, at the cost of one rich persons riches, but those with power passively choose to not do so. The movie doesn't philosophize anywhere near as much as I am doing right now, instead focusing on fast action, true love and cool sci fi. But I think perhaps this movie is a very subtle warning to the rich. At a certain point of wealth inequality, some portion of the population will want their fair share of the wealth, ethics be damed.

https://www.netflix.com/title/81288179

I miss the magic of Christmas. Today and tonight feels ordinary to me, and I miss that sense of wonder.

I miss the trips my family would take to visit our relatives. I miss the get-togethers, and the feasting, and playing games with my cousins and the family friends.

Even though I'm an atheist now, I miss having to go to midnight mass. I miss the excitement of being able to open one present before going to bed.

Unless some tragedy befalls me, I'm sure I can recapture that magic in my future. I'm not depressed about it. But that's a hope for later. For now, this is it.

For everybody else out there who's having a so-so Christmas... wishing you all the best, and hope you can still find a moment to appreciate the holiday.

Normally in the evenings I have to myself, I keep busy and find satisfaction in coding, or writing, or gaming. Tonight, those things don't feel meaningful.

I just wish I had somebody special to share Christmas Eve with, like in all those cozy Christmas songs. Instead, I'm just tired and want to sleep... But I can't go to bed until me and my mom can get my dad changed, so he's not wet with urine the whole night. Just like last night, and the night before that, and the night before that.

I wish I could have gotten to know my dad as well as I've gotten to know my mom, as an adult instead of as a child. But I also would have never spent this much time with my mom if my dad didn't end up with PCA, so wishing for that is wishing for an impossibility.

Why are people setting off fireworks in my area, starting at midnight? It's already 2:00 AM. It's Christmas Eve, not New Years. Aren't kids supposed to be asleep for Santa Claus to drop off presents? Do kids still believe in Santa Claus, or do they just stay up late playing video games on Christmas Eve now?

Maybe they aren't fireworks, maybe they're shooting at Santa.

I've been hearing some ambulance sirens. My dog is upset. It's hard to feel sorry for myself when there are some people having a much worse Christmas than me. If you're having a true disaster of a Christmas, I am truly sorry and I hope you pull through.

1. When did you stop celebrating?
2. Why did you stop celebrating?
3. How have family and friends responded?
4. What do you do instead, if anything?

Disclaimer - I am not aiming to shame or undermine those who do celebrate, this is just friendly a discussion for those who don’t.

I'll try to be brief.

I lost my older brother March this year. Barely a year after I moved to the same city as him, he passed away from a bacterial infection he got in a hospital. He went for stomach surgery, everything went fine. Suddenly, a month later, this bacterial infection got to his brain and he was gone.

It was a big shock to our family and things are not the same anymore. My parents are old, mother is 73, father is 78.

My mother is simply just existing these days. She is barely eating and is now weighing 48kgs (105 lbs). She needed to go to the hospital a couple of days ago because she was so weak.

She already had problems before the death of my brother. She is losing her eyesight and despite all the treatments, it does not get better. She can see up close, she can use her smartphone, but it's hard for her to recognize people if they are not right up in her face.

She has three hernias and can't stand too much. She can get up to make breakfast or coffee, but after 20 minutes has to lie down because of pain. It does not help that she barely eats and is getting weaker every day.

She does not want to go to a psychologist. She just says she is not crazy and won't go. I tried contacting one that can go to her house, but she says she simply won't open the door. My father is trying to convince her, but I know it won't change.

I can understand her and I can't see what more can I do. She never had much going for her, now her oldest (and dearest) son is dead all of a sudden, she has all this physical pain going on for years, eyesight getting worse and I can understand the fact that she simply don't care for it anymore. She simply lost her appetite.

She is going to doctors to take exams, she did a battery of tests and everything seems fine. Even her cholesterol which was problematic is fine.

He prescribed something to help with her appetite and vitamins, but it is not the first time. Don't think this will change much.

I don't know really what I'm asking here. I sometimes think I should do more, but there is already my father which lives with her and my other brother who is there in the same city. I already tried sending a psychologist to help her at home, I don't know what more can I do.

I go visit every two or three weeks (i am going for christmas and new year) and she is the same way. 80% of the time lying down in the couch, she gets up to make food or coffee, go sit in the front of the house for some time, then it's time to go to bed. This is repeated every day.

It's not like it was much different before, but at least she ate some food. There was a day that she just ate an apple and that was it.

She goes out of the house if she needs, like going to the doctor or groceries, but avoids for any other reason.

My son shares a lot of my traits, including being Gifted. He's in kindergarten now, and we were looking into getting him a IEP (individual education plan) because he's Gifted.

In doing so though, someone brought up that it might result in an ASD diagnosis essentially - and they were right. Haven't had the formal test yet, but a lot of what I considered "idiosyncrises" in my son are also found in autistic individuals. Some of which I share. I have little doubt in the ultimate conclusion, which is that he's 2e (twice exceptional).

And it seems quite likely I am as well. It's gonna be a niche audience, but anyone in a similar boat? It feels weird looking back and (at 34) retroactively realizing why I do certain things the way I do.

Edit: I should add - it didn't really 'matter' to my development because I was Gifted. I can learn whatever, pretty darn fast. So I just taught myself social stuff, on purpose, when I was in high school and college. It takes a lot of effort on my part, but I can be "charasmatic". I ascribed the effort to my general tendency toward introversion, but it may have been, essentially, the mental cost of masking.

Edit2: oh man I even went out of my way to try and alter my personality towards more extroversion in college because it seemed more normal.

Edit3: and I taught myself to understand body language in high school, particularly to understand and help with reading girls I liked, and how they were reacting to various levels of flirtation.

Edit4:
My spatial sense is god level. My wife doesn't bother remembering where the car is, because I just know.

My audition is similarly unrivaled, I hear things others don't, and my phonological loop is amazing - I can hold audio in my head for a time if I'm truly concentrating on something else.

My imagination is virtually non-existent, I'm nearly a complete aphantasia case - the best I can ever manage is a pulse of a 2d image, kinda.

I'm incredibly good at math, computer science, etc. I know more about science than... anyone else I've met.

I've never really felt like I didn't belong, though. I just learned how to be an effective communicator from books and videos. I almost feel like I have weaponized ASD.

I'm 23 years old. I live a life of luxury—as far as a child is concerned, at least: free to do as I wish, see whom I wish, eat what I wish; play and dance with little material worry. In truth I am rather serious, far from carefree, and not landed or established, but I have designed my life for ease. As I said: a child's dream.

I seem to feel myself slipping. I have regrets now. Several. I believe I have eroded my ethos, my morality; whether consciously or not, I am not exactly sure. I think I am losing something of myself but I don't know what or how. It is as if every day I forget who I am and transform, an atom at a time, into a man I once specifically sought not to become: someone careless, distant, and self-centered.

An outside observer would say that I have had a generally profitable and worthwhile year, and I can't dispute that. However, I think I am spiritually lost, or emotionally lost, and certainly romantically lost, though I have never not been romantically lost. I'm writing now because I am ill, literally and physically but mostly interpersonally, and I have failed to make an appearance in my social circles for the better part of a month, excepting for a few disasters. I do have a professional counselor, but we haven't spoken in weeks. I've reached the point where I've lost both motivation and literal energy to do even the simplest exercise, I cannot cook anything beyond the absolute bare minimum, I feel my work has suffered, I have been almost bedridden for several days, my purpose seems unclear. I am very lovely when I have visitors, but it has strained me recently, and unfortunately I will have more very soon. I am as lovely as I can be when I must leave my home. I will also have to reappear socially in less than a day, which I am dreading.

I can only really talk about my emotions if I lay them out in anecdotes, real experiences but their form taking whatever mood I am in, so here are a few. What do I do here?

In the summer I was whisked to a faraway place, somewhere I had never been. Greener, quieter, hillier, more remote. By the sea; a place with history, but not mine. I was a guest, well-honored, and I found the fine gentlemen and ladies of the court—as it were—to take great interest in me. Flattered, complimented, pampered, invited, smiled upon, oh! So young in this society of elders, so lauded, so respected: I was golden, awash in warmth and welcome, though ego also. I smiled back, I laughed courteously, I bowed politely and nodded, I danced when it was suitable, and I dined and drank respectably.

Many friends though I had, none were there; though some there were those I knew, none were friends; a rare few came close, still they were strangers yet. But ha! My reputation preceded me! A young man I had met once, my equal (and, now, as I know, my greater), learning of my arrival, took it upon himself to show me the ropes of the ship and keep me in good company of her officers and crew, especially those as young as me. We chatted of fine things, snickered of less fine things; we drank very much, we toiled in our work at court; and, oh, I had made a dear friend. A gentleman truly; gentle indeed, kind, thoughtful; soft-spoken, a voice calming and delightful, a presence safe and trustworthy. An angel of this land I strayed into, though he reserved that term for another (he, too, is an angel). Surely I would have survived without his guidance, but he made it worthwhile.

One eve in society I espied a young woman about my age. She too was a guest, well-honored, and found that all the fine gentlemen and ladies of the court were pleased with her. But how could this be? I had been introduced to everyone in the palace. I knew of my contemporaries, their kingdoms and lands, their titles and pedigree and accolades! Who was this woman, unknown but clearly so skillful? I watched as she entertained the whole attendance, laser-focused, dexterous and determined. I was in awe.

Hair almost black as night with perfectly rounded brows; smiling always, brightly expressive: a face so beautiful you could not contain yourself. She dressed quaintly but boldly, observing tradition but disregarding convention. Upon her bronze cheeks there lay the most intense dimples I had ever seen. O Father in Heaven! A gift to me! She was uncommonly striking, and not just because she was a stranger. I was surprised; I restrained my infatuation. I must speak to her, I thought. I would like another friend.

• I, nobly: "You were wonderful tonight. I enjoyed watching you before the court."
• She, politely: "I enjoyed watching you as well."

We stood in the earshot of her appointed guides, and within that of mine, and so we knew to keep our spark civil. For now.

Time passed and we continued to meet, always visible, always on good behavior. She was from my home country, a beacon in this foreign land, metropolitan in taste like me but rather a country girl at heart. She was older than me, by several years, but I was unbothered. One evening, my dear friend the young man proposed an airing throughout the gardens and toward the new wharf, where there were no fishermen (long gone) but still many things of note. His suggestion was amenable to our whole party, all of whom were eager to feel the salt air and, in the case of moi et ma chère, speak beyond the confines of the court, where we would be free.

• I, intimately: "You might find yourself welcome in my quarters after our reprieve."
• She, dutifully: "Kind sir, that I might, but we have matters to attend to, no? We are here, well-honored, for a purpose."
• I, reassuringly: "Of course, ma chère, we are obliged. But after your performance, after my speech, there is a haven. Our time here comes to an end soon and watchful eyes will look away."
• She, demurely: "If so you say, mon cher. I must see to my education, you know, and my career; it is this world, this court. You can escape petty politics by your good manners, your network, your renown; but I cannot draw on such repute. You come here on wide recommendation and accomplishment, I on determination and fortune."

My friend the young man said later to me: "What of ta chère, my friend? What is she to you, and you to her? Your time dwindles." I said to him, "I have hope. What of yours, dear friend? Your angel; he awaits your beckon as well." We talked as good friends do, and in our brotherhood found solidarity in the nature of our respective romances. I was empowered, and he too, for our lives were brighter when we had such unerring and unassailable friendship.

On the evening before our departure she came to our soirée, which had grown half-private beyond our cohort to include those members of society we deemed engaging, and any who stumbled across us. Across the room she placed herself, our eyes locking every now and then, not too often as to be noticed by others, though I'm sure my friend the young man observed all. Silently transmitting suggestive looks, open-ended messages, we grew more restless, until an excuse was made for her to depart. Some minutes later, oh, by coincidence, I must as well. Ta!

It was all I had hoped and more. This woman was unbelievably attractive in character and feature. We had a chemistry I had rarely seen. She confided in me beforehand her reluctance because I was young. But she was young too! I thought her my peer. It's not like this was new to me. She had found me the object of her desires this whole season, obsessed just as I had, but on her better judgment refrained just as I had from exhibiting too much outward favoritism. I assured her that I wanted her and only her in this moment; she reiterated the same. She had been withholding an intense physical attraction. She wanted me and only me in this moment; she was ravenous, all but insatiable, full of life and love, and wanted me to control her. We were a pair; it was exhilarating, ecstatic, exhausting; dynamic and visceral and incredible. She was very gratified by the end, I too. But then it was over and we returned to our home castles.

Not many weeks after our goodbye, we had occasion to say hello again, fleetingly and unexpectedly. It was just as before: she was so beautiful; we were enraptured. I bought us a room and we slept together: she gave me a gift. I was touched and felt ashamed that I had not thought to bring her one. I resolved to purchase an equal trinket for her, a fine necklace to match her earrings. I have since obtained her gift.

But what did I find myself doing? Nothing. Very little contact; incapable of making my true feelings known, I have made little effort to connect. She was from my home country, yes, but it is a large place, and we could not possibly see each other except when nature or fortune brings us near. At least that is what I have told myself. Is that true? Either way, now I think it is too late. Just days ago I reached out, hoping that we could arrange a visit, but I had done few favors for myself. Though apparently excited to talk to me, she found reason for this to be impossible. I am no fool. If she had wanted it to happen, she knew that I would go to great lengths; and she could too. After our flings I think she sees me as just that: a fling. I worry that I can no longer give her my gift, the necklace, which was not just a trinket but a thank-you and an object of remembrance. But it seems that I am the one left now with remembrance, or at least with the object; two such objects and not one. Soon I fear she will forget me, and perhaps I will forget her, piece by piece until there is nothing left but a wisp of a memory. That would pain me.

In the springtime I had taken to a western retreat, a cabin in a woodland far from my home, by a small lake. I was with others, in society of a kind, but with much privacy.

I met someone there, unexpectedly. She dressed in complicated colors and dyed her hair; her demeanor a startling departure from the personalities I had expected here. She was interesting to me. I could not classify her; but she seemed to know my friends. First I overheard, then we talked: she had been a performer, a teacher, smart and industrious, but here was a learner. So was I. She knew her cocktails and wines and liquors and obscure beers, her philosophy, her history, and all the great works. I admitted a certain attraction to her unusual mannerisms; her unabashed, refreshing brusqueness, her contentedness with whom she was as a human being; that she was simply unlike any person I had known, and different from me as well. Yet despite that difference I felt that we could commune. She was older—I could not tell exactly by how much from her person, though it was significant, and from her preferred company I guessed ten or fifteen years. (I did not dare to ask.) One night we looked out at the stars, at the water, and made a connection. We brought it back to the sanctuary of the interior and from then on were linked.

She revealed very soon after in passing that she was autistic. The way she said it suggested she thought I already knew. That possibility had not even entered my mind. I am generally not unobservant. This was a surprise. I almost didn't believe her. I thought, "How? Why consider such things, use such categories? You are just the way you are. I don't care." But I did not say that. I said, "Oh."

Next I saw her, she had expectations. I did not expect anything, at least not romantically, though not for any fault of hers. Not intending to bother anyone in particular, I sought out the romances I desired and accepted the ones I found agreeable, and at the moment we ran into each other, ours was not one of them. I failed, completely and utterly, to communicate my transient and impermanent and superficial nature; my intentions with another woman or more than one. Not only this, but it was obvious; I was not being subtle, for I was drunk on the affection of a particularly sharp woman whom I respected, or I was literally drunk. It was a stark and awkward difference from our interactions before. I was aware of this the whole time but somehow did not detect, or did not care (I am not sure: as I say, I am losing myself) that a boundary had been crossed. One day, as we stood in a field by the mountains, she became very emotional, not contemptuous but upset and extremely critical for reasons I had not anticipated (being so caught up in my own endeavors) but immediately recognized and understood. For an hour, maybe two hours, perhaps more, she explained to me how she was not mad but disappointed, how communication in relationships should work; interrogated me on my behavior and my tendencies; and reminded me what begets trauma. I felt that I was being lectured.

If I am being uncharitable with my phrasing, I ought to reiterate: I deserved a dressing-down. But I did apologize, several times, and I did mean it, resolving to do better, to not seek out such complications among my friends, and to graciously rebuff hopes of complications from others. But I have since failed to do even that; I have only managed to entrap myself in further relationships, further emotional turmoil, and it has all been my fault.

I cannot describe this anecdote. It's not painful (well, not to me), it's just so hopelessly strange, absurd, surreal, ridiculous, narcissistic, and maybe even misogynistic that I can't explain the details. It involves three separate women whom I admire very much and who are also undeniably beautiful, and a lot more emotions than I was prepared for. My role was cartoonishly hedonistic, and I would typically consider it out of character, but after some of what has happened this year... is it out of character anymore? Or am I a different person now?

I don't even know what I'm asking. I just seem to fall into relationship and relationship, none of them ever serious; in some cases I really do try to take it seriously, then it doesn't work out, and I become disillusioned and give up on love again. It's worse in the case (and there are many) that I am the one left behind, rather than it being a truly mutual feeling. I will always respect the wishes of my partner, but wow, does being dumped, ignored, or de-prioritized ever reinforce my tendency toward superficial flings. Where I'm at right now, it just seems so hopeless to consider these things. I am still functional—this is not a cloud of depression that prevents me from cleaning my home or going to work—but the broader reason for cultivating and maintaining relationships has begun to disintegrate.

I see the obvious hypocrisy in wishing for commitment and refusing to provide it myself. As I say, I am slowly turning into a person I despise. This is not supposed to be a whiny thread, and I am not bitter about not getting something I "deserve" (for I deserve nothing), but I am sad that despite all the great fun I can have for a couple days, or even a couple weeks, I cannot create a meaningful lasting romance. What I regret the most is not that things do not work for me, but that I leave a wake of destruction for others as I sail across the water. Every time I engage with someone, they seem to acquire some of my problems, and that makes me feel terrible.

Hey everyone! I thought since the community has grown quite substantially since I last asked this question^[1] it would be nice to bring it back up again. Without getting into whether or not the specific idea that "strong opinions, weakly held" may or may not have merit, I think having flexibility in your thinking and not holding on to opinions out of loyalty or inertia is a valuable skill to have. So, small or big, what is something that you changed your mind about this year?

[1] https://tildes.net/~talk/11mw/what_is_something_you_have_changed_your_mind_about_in_the_last_year

This is a topic that I have been holding to myself for quite some time, mostly because I didn't know how to quite phrase what I wanted to say. I still don't think I am going to do the best job but I wanted to hear what other peoples thoughts.

I'm someone who has always valued my few friendships very highly. My dad drilled into me at a young age that it is better to have fewer, high quality friendships than a plethora of not very meaningful relationships.

As people age and move on to different stages in their life, I completely understand that some people might not have the same amount of time to give you in a day that they previously used to. People get busy, have relationships, get married, etc. Which brings me to my situation and how I feel:

I have a friend who I've known since high school, and we're both 30 now. We've always been pretty good friends and in our later 20's we got even closer. I would say that we both deviate from the 'typical' unemotional guys who don't share how they feel with others. Both him and I would let us know what's going on in our lives and how it made us feel, etc. During this time, he was in a relationship (which he was not super happy with, due to some actions his partner did), but would share some of his more inner thoughts with me rather than her. They weren't the best at communicating with one another.

Fast forward two to three years, I got married, my friend broke up with his then partner. He moved back to his parents place, and the time before my marriage (I lived with my parents and had access to a car) I would try and visit him as often as I can just to hang out at night, or to see how he's doing. I've even driven over at midnight just to hangout with him until 4 AM because he was feeling lonely.

He congratulated me online (my wedding took place in another country, and I know none of my friends could afford to, or would not want to, travel just for a ceremony, so I didn't really invite anyone) but also indirectly told me he was jealous that I was married and stuff and he wasn't. For him, getting married is a much bigger deal than it is for me, I never really minded being single or alone. Please don't misconstrue this as me not being appreciative of my wife. She is very dear to me and I always to provide the best for her.

Fast forward another 2 years, and my friend got married to someone he met online. Since then our friendship has been mostly one sided almost. I had to initiate almost every conversation, and it's like messaging a blank wall, there's no reciprocation, and if there is it is very shallow. On top of that, we hang out much less as well (which I get, you do have to give a certain amount of commitment and attention to your spouse) so messaging is the main way to keep in touch.

Don't get me wrong, I've had this happen to me plenty of times. Mostly in university, had a couple of really good friends (or so I thought), as soon as they get a girlfriend, most of them forget I even exist. Maybe I expected more because I've known him for so long, or maybe I should expect less and accept that in the way our current society is shaped people start forming a bubble around themselves past a certain point in their life and you're no longer included in it.

Maybe this post came off as me being really entitled, I don't know. I just wanted to vent my frustrations somewhere. What does everyone on here think about relationships with their friends when you're married? Are you okay with seeing them less often? Is this just an expected outcome of being married?

https://tild.es/1anp
I am very thankful for your help. It cleared our minds and we could do it in a peaceful way.
His euthanasia was painful for us but not for him.
The vet was awesome and we did it maybe a week after the ideal time. We are sad, very sad, despite our brains saying that it was the best decision we are sad sad sad.
Grief evolves and we kind of know it will get better.
You were a great community, supportive and wise.
Thanks again,

I guess this is just a thing I like to do lol. I got an OLED Steam Deck and have been playing around with it for about a week, so I wanted to share what all I got.

TL;DR: OLED is the definitive version of this product. If you're at all interested, whether or not budget is a concern this model is worth looking at, especially if you can actually get your hands on one to try for a bit. Words aren't quite what they need to be to get across how it looks and feels.

The long of it:

Valve wasn't kidding about stuff like a little performance improvement and better battery life. It feels like someone took the LCD deck and made a checklist of every single thing that could be improved, and then did it. The result is just about the best refresh of a product I've ever seen.

The screen is the most obvious upgrade and it really is great to look at. It is a big jump to go from an LCD at 60hz, to OLED at 90hz with HDR available. As great as VibrantDeck is, no amount of color fuckery can really reproduce what is happening when you have these features. For games that support HDR, it can feel like you've actually made an upgrade, because of how differently it can handle things like bright flashes of light and particle effects on top of the color differences. The refresh rate is tied to the frame limiter by default, so when you drop the frame limit the refresh rate tends to stay double whatever that is. 40fps/80hz feels better than 40/40 to me, like stuttering just isn't as bothersome.

Be aware it's on developers to implement HDR, which means sometimes you run into a game with a shitty implementation. FFVII R comes to mind. Just know that if you run across a game where this feature seems to make the game look terrible, it's not the device doing it.

The improvements to the battery do mean something like a ~40% increase. Games like Armored Core VI and Elden Ring tended to last about 1.5-2 hours on the LCD model, on OLED it's more like 2.5-3, and this is the sweet spot imo. Rare that I'm gonna sit down and play for that long in the first place, so having this much power available means being able to play here and there with much less concern. Games that already played well in a low power state just get that much more time. One thing to know if you're coming from an LCD - it doesn't save your power profiles. Input profiles yes (if you saved them), but power settings need to be redone game-to-game.

The device itself is a little lighter, and it feels like it sits in my hands a little better. The difference is minute, but noticeable, and nice. All of the buttons feel good, the sticks have slightly more resistance to them, and the trackpads are much nicer to use. In particular, the way you click the trackpads is more forgiving by default, so while it is a little easier to mis-click it feels more like using a "real" trackpad. The deck in general is the only device I find doesn't really aggravate my carpal tunnel, and the OLED model keeps that up.

On the software side there isn't really a difference - SteamOS is more or less exactly the same with a few OLED-specific settings. Most of your info gets saved and loaded up when you log in. Cloud saves are one piece of course, but too, any controller profiles you saved will come back, and the SD card can just be freely transferred/there isn't really any setup to it. From boot to play I mostly just waited on the game to download - setting up the device was as simple as waiting for it to do an update, then log in, and that's it. It doesn't pester you to register for anything/no ads.

Things like sleep/wake and transitioning to desktop mode are faster and more consistent. Pretty regularly, my LCD model would fail to sleep/wake correctly - I'd put it to sleep and upon waking it, it would reboot. Inconsistent but often enough to get annoyed with. With the OLED model, i notice this doesn't happen as often. It still does, but much less frequently. The improvements to the trackpads means I use desktop mode more often, it feels much nicer to navigate. All of the stuff I had before was simple to install and restore - emudeck, decky, cryoutilities all installed without any issues and worked fine after I moved over all my stuff from the first deck. Haven't hit any issues with decky plugins either.

Even the carrying case got a pass. It's been redesigned a little, with an extra velcro fastener bit and tighter mold inside, black instead of white.

Transferring my information was about as easy as you could do. There are several options - I mostly used KDE connect, but there's also Warpinator, and a deck plugin called DeckMTP that can let you do a direct USB connection. Literally just copy/paste, once I installed all the stuff I had before I could just drop in the old device's things and be good to go. One thing to be aware of, is that for games which don't support Steam Cloud, you need to copy their save data over. That's gonna mostly be in a folder in /steamapps called CompatData. Takes a little doing but it's not hard to figure out. The hardest thing to set up was STALKER Anomaly, and all that was was about a five step process of clicking things in Wine. By the way, if you make a custom controller profile for a non-steam game, when you add that game to the library make sure it has the same name as before and your controller profile will be saved!

Overall I'm impressed to the point I intend to hold off buying any more PC hardware until a Deck 2 appears. If that product gets the same kind of attention this one did there's no doubt in my mind it will be fantastic. Considering too, the ability to dock and use peripherals, I think I'd feel safe recommending an OLED steam deck as a replacement for a gaming machine + non-work computer to just about anybody. $399 as a base price for PC Gaming is fucking awesome, and $549 for this improved model, at least I feel is very much worth it. $150 for an OLED screen, more storage, bigger battery is not bad. The deck is a hugely popular product, which means you get the added benefit of folks constantly tinkering and messing with stuff to make it work, on top of the odd developer specifically targeting it (such as in Cyberpunk, or how Bannerlord reworked its control scheme). Those kinds of communities exist around other devices, but not nearly to the same extent, and they'll die fast as those products come and go.

So that's what I got. I hope this was informative and helpful. If you have any questions I'm happy to answer as best I can. I'm super happy with the deck as a product, it feels a lot like getting to see what it looks like when someone goes the distance and throws their full weight behind this kind of product.

Edit: I don't know how well this will come through looking on different screens, but here are a few screenshots from AC VI and Morrowind that made use of HDR. Even if it doesn't come through - if you've never owned a deck and were considering one, yeah stuff can look this good on it! It's amazing.

Throughout our lives we make tons of pivotal decisions. Some of these are significant enough that we give them lots of thought and it’s not a surprise when they greatly affect our life path - things like beginning or ending a relationship, or moving to a new area, or changing our lifestyle.

Lately though I’ve been contemplating which thoughtless, inane decisions I made have had the largest butterfly effects in my life.

One example: when I was entering middle school I was, for the first time, allowed to choose which elective courses I wanted to take by filling out a paper slip. I thought playing a brass or percussion instrument seemed pretty badass so I signed up for band. Before I turned it in, though, my older sister saw it, said “band is dumb, do chorus instead,” erased my selection and marked choir instead. Being 11 years old at the time I had no strong feelings about it so I said whatever and went on with my life.

And now, several decades later, I have sang in choirs since then, the vast majority of my friends are those I met in choirs (or theater, which is choir adjacent), and I have spent most of my adult life making money working either in or around choirs in some capacity. It’s my life.

I often wonder how my life would be different if she hadn’t changed my registration sheet. (She didn’t even enjoy choir that much and quit two years later). Would I be living a parallel path of loving and working in music, but with bands instead of choirs? Would I have switched sometime during middle school and then reverted to the same life path I’m on now? Or would I have simply been less hooked to music and instead lived and worked in the field of one of my other interests that are mere hobbies right now?

I’ll never know, of course. But it sure is interesting to think about. Probably the vast majority of the tiny inane decisions we make don’t end up having much of an effect on our lives. But every now and then there’s one that randomly changes a lot.

You ever been there, Tildes?