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,

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?

This is actually two questions in one:

1. How do you counter pessimism in yourself?

How do you keep yourself from sliding into cynicism? Seeing the worst in things? Finding fault everywhere? Losing hope?

2. How do you counter pessimism in others?

When someone’s sharing their pessimism with you, it can feel dismissive or even hostile to go against it. It can feel unempathetic to do anything but corroborate or validate their feelings, even if you feel they’re inaccurate or misguided. How do you respond without sliding into pessimism yourself?

We all have things we hate about our jobs — for many of us it’s the actual job itself — but I’m interested in hearing about the things that you actually like.

They can be big, satisfying things (like the fulfillment of completing a big project) or they can be tiny little insignificant joys (like writing your to-do list with a really smooth pen).

Let us know what you genuinely like about your work.

A few of you mentioned in comments to my previous question that changing your mind could or did affect relationships. To those who did go through such a significant perspective shift, please share your story!

Asking because I have been having such vivid dreams lately and sometimes they touch me so much to the point that half a day, sometimes even the entire day, will be negatively affected - although that might also be my poor mental health (decided against posting this in ~health.mental as I wasn't sure it had that much to do with it).

I definitely have more bad dreams when I'm in a bad place or going through things, like if I feel lonely I will dream about relationships. If I've been really into something, like a game or watching a lot of the same genre of tv or film, I will dream about things towards that genre. If I'm having interpersonal issues, I will dream about those and even have conflicts and fights in my dreams very much related to that person - I have so many nightmares about my father for example.

I'm not into astrology, tarot cards, witchy stuff, etc., beyond it being just for fun. And I feel like dreams are more along those lines although I don't know. I just know they can really affect me.

What's your take?

I’m a software engineer. Any time this topic comes up it’s clear I’m the odd one out. Recruiters will tell me “don’t worry, we’re fully remote!” but that’s not what I want to hear. Co-workers that are mandated to return to office go on a quiet rebellion to stay at home (and to be clear, I love that they are displaying the power that laborers have even without a union). But for me the quality of the work is lower when remote. Video calls suck and are emotionally draining. Collaboration is core to doing work for me. Sure I can close tickets just fine from home. But what if I’m there to wrap my head around the entire system and all of the people involved in it?

A few things I’m aware of that influence my opinion here:

• I don’t have kids
• I am comfortable asserting my free time. I take plenty of time off and typically work six hour days, never with any push back from anyone. I can usually get much more done in six hours than is asked of me
• Programming is my dream job

Thankfully I am still able to find fully in-person opportunities around me. So this is really just a matter of understanding the rest of the labor market. I don’t need to or want to change anyone’s mind here.

It's October, spooky month! So I figured I'd ask if anyone has any creepy, spooky, scary or unexplained experiences they'd like to share. I may have been waiting all September to post this These stories are always fun to read on AskReddit, so I figure it's only right to ask here on the spookiest month of all.

My examples have to do with tech/media, but it could be anything - old fashioned or "outdated" ways of cooking, communicating, hobbies, or mending things rather than replacing them, etc.

Owning DVDs

Earlier this year my husband and I had an irresistible urge to watch the masterpiece film that is Shrek. I hoped that one of the most popular animated movies of all time would be available at no charge to me, but of course it was not on Hulu, HBO, Netflix, or included with Prime. So that's great, I'm paying something around $50 a month for all these libraries of media, and somehow find myself paying extra whenever I want to watch something specific. Fair enough though, that's part of the deal I guess.

We decide to rent the movie on Amazon for $5. A couple years ago, I'm pretty sure renting movies like this was more around $2-3 and they've been slowly bumping it up. Okay. Everything gets more expensive. We try to start streaming the movie, and Amazon gives us this pop-up that says they've detected the hardware we're streaming it on (it's apparently a bit outdated,) so it's going to choose a specific version of the movie for us, one that didn't use some new technology related to streaming quality. That's fine in itself, but it just got me thinking about how much control these streaming companies have over all of this. My TV is at least 15 years old, works perfectly fine, and I don't see myself replacing it anytime soon. My imagination went the dramatic route, picturing a future where Amazon and its ilk will only stream to newer computers/TVs, either for a legitimate technological reason, or because they've struck a conniving secret deal with the TV manufacturers. Again, dramatic I know, but my point is just the general idea that these companies make all the decisions with streaming; we own and decide nothing.

Ultimately, I realized I could have easily found a DVD of Shrek for $1-2 at practically any used bookstore, and I would have not only saved money, I would have avoided giving my money to Daddy Bezos, and gained ownership of a fairly permanent copy of the movie. And what could be better than the ability to watch Shrek on repeat for the rest of my life?

So basically my husband and I have started a DVD collection. We have date nights at used bookstores and pick up all kinds of unexpected treasures. Childhood favorites we had forgotten about, classics we haven't seen in years, DVDs with extensive special features, some with really nicely designed packaging. For some reason, browsing the DVD shelves is like the fun version of scrolling aimlessly through endless streaming catalogs and not being able to decide what to watch. It reminds me of one of the greatest joys of growing up as a child in the 90s - getting to go to Blockbuster (or in my neighborhood, "Mr. Movies") and frolicking around with your friends/siblings, physically checking out the cases, and debating over which ones are the best (Mom is on a budget, after all.)

I have been pleasantly surprised by how novel and enjoyable it has been.

Owning Music

My second thing started when I realized I really want to spend more time away from my phone. I've also been jogging recently and have been annoyed/confused about what to do with this massive phone that I want with me for music (I try to buy small phones but they barely exist anymore.) Probably inspired by my recent "discovery" of the joys of DVDs, I decided to spend $25 on a tiny, simple mp3 player that clips onto my clothes. A music player that isn't also a social media machine which is connected to the entire world and every human being I've ever known, at any given moment. Just music.

Then I realized that I haven't owned any music (or paid any artist directly for their music,) in at least a decade. I genuinely didn't even know where to buy music at first. The last time I bought music, I was 17 years old and hadn't yet freed myself from the Apple/itunes ecosystem ("freed" myself from it, right into the Google/Pixel ecosystem, of course.) Someone suggested Bandcamp, as when you buy music on there it comes with the option to download mp3s. I've had fun discovering some new artists on the platform. And although I really like supporting artists directly, to make my collection a bit more frugal I've started picking up a couple cheap CDs when we go shopping for DVDs. I just export the music as mp3s with some free software. I'm not an audiophile, and the quality seems just fine to me. Next, I think I'll visit my parents and get some mp3s from their boomer CD collection.

All of this also prompted my husband to dig out an old hard drive of his, which we found had a massive goldmine of all the music he listened to in college (and he had/has fantastic taste in music!) Some of my favorites, plus all kinds of random bands and genres that I wouldn't necessarily think to seek out on Spotify, but they're in my lovely collection now, so why not listen? :)

(A bonus to exploring the old media was finding some ridiculous photos and memes he had saved from college. Bless him and his radical vulnerability, I couldn't believe he was willing to browse the hard drive with me while having no idea what was on it. Thankfully for him, it was mostly just good music, along with photos of sharks with large human teeth photoshopped onto them. He is so pure.)

The DVD/MP3 thing seems like a no brainer now that I've tried it, and I'm sure it will seem silly to some of you, but it simply didn't occur to me for years. Maybe something about my age - being 31 years old, the transition to streaming media happened just about exactly when I graduated from highschool and became an adult. I had no personal DVD collections to bring to my first apartment, and I certainly wasn't going to buy any - Netflix was all the rage, around $8/month, and practically no one actually paid for their own account. And having only purchased one or two physical CDs in my life, I did have a large mp3 collection from iTunes and Limewire as a teenager, but that died pretty quickly once we moved from iPods to phones for music, which happened around the same time. I think I transferred MP3s to my first one or two phones and lost them after that.

Anyway, in a world increasingly impacted by enshittification, with companies relentlessly pushing towards the breaking point of what we will tolerate when it comes to how we spend our time and money, I'm sure there are other "hidden in plain sight" realizations I'm missing out on.

What I mean by short/immediate thinking vs. long-term.. let's take the experience of learning a new skill (for example, riding a bike). In the beginning, the skill is difficult as you're carving out those new neural pathways in your mind. It's grating, unnatural, uncomfortable. It seems that the rational way to think about this experience is "yes, it feels uncomfortable right now, but if I keep attempting this, eventually the discomfort will lessen, and it will get easier. It won't be like this forever." For myself (and I assume some others?), I instead get stuck in a mindset of only seeing the present moment: "this sucks and therefore it will always suck!" Yeah, I can catch myself thinking this way and correct it to consider the long-term, but that's not my default. My default is short term, now, only now.

You could expand this to so many things: enduring temporary struggles and not letting them get you down (the situation isn't permanent, it will change), not partaking in addictive behaviors (deciding not to do something that might feel good, because you're considering the long term consequences), procrastination... list goes on and on. To me, it always seems rational to consider long term impact of your actions. If you don't, it seems you're blowing off this entire swath of information which could/should inform your decisions in the present moment.

On the flipside, I'm not saying you should only think of the future and disregard the present... just when making decisions, it seems better to consider both, that's all..

I have been trying for 10 months to change this about myself, yet I continue to slip back into this pattern of constant "now" thinking. I know it leads to irrational decisions. I'd love to hear others thoughts on this. Have you struggled with this? If so, how did you manage to overcome these thinking patterns? For anyone: are you more naturally a "now" thinker, or are you lucky enough to naturally consider the long-term, or maybe you bounce between both? I have no idea if this is a common experience, or if it means something is inherently irrational about the way I think.

Recently I've been getting Instagram ads for those "side quest" decks that are designed to make you do more spontaneous things on a day to day basis. Things like, "Go to a local coffee shop you've never been to" or "Talk to a stranger". I've been slowly sinking into the fall season apathy and winter blues and have been looking to spice my life up, but I kinda don't wanna spend money on a bunch of cards.

What are your experiences with spontaneity in your daily life? Anything exciting that has come out of it?

This year I spent a bunch of time in different countries and wrote about it a month ago here

I'm curious of what other people say when someone (say, a coworker or a complete stranger) asks prying questions-- or even questions you just don't feel like answering!

Personally, I enjoy giving irrelevant answers to the busybody I run into at least once a week, from the classic "I'm going to iron my dog" (more of an excuse, but still great for befuddling), to the recent favorite: "This human suit is chafing and I need to remove it to apply baby powder."

I have Bipolar I with minor psychosis, CPTSD and OCD. I was born into an emotionally abusive family, and they are the only people i know, because i am also chronically alone and have dealt with feelings of loneliness on some level since i was a young kid. I had some online friends who helped me a lot with mental health issues but i lost access to them. The main reason im suicidal is because i feel like i have really bad luck. No matter what i do it ends up amounting to nothing. Everytime i start having hope i lose it because something bad happens to me again.
I hear about mental illness and people having a successful life despite it and despite feeling hopeless, but i just dont see that its possible to ever have a life worth living.
I really hope there are other people who relate, or maybe people who used to be that hopeless but ended up living a good life.

I've been climbing for about 2 years now and yesterday I was finally able to complete my most difficult route yet without stopping for a break! I've tried this 6C about 15 times or so and only finished it twice, but I usually fall or have to stop to rest in the middle, so I was really pleased I did it in one!

What about you guys?

(P.s apologies if this is the wrong place for this. At first I was going to post in ~sport but that looked more like pro sport news)

Title says it all. I'm only in my late 20s and I've been his primary care taker for most of my adult life. There isn't any other person I've spent more time with in my entire life. I'm trying to prepare myself for when the moment he's gone and I know it's going crush me all the same.

This will be my greatest loss in life so far. I know everyone goes through something like this. What did you do when a moment like this came? What did you do when it felt like you couldn't get up? I have know idea how I'm going to get through this, I just have to believe I will.

EDIT: Thank you for all your kind words and we'll wishes. My dad passed away September 23, 3:30 PM local time with his boys by his side. I'll love him and miss him every single day.

First of all, this is a lot about me and myself and I'm sorry it's a bit self-centered; it's been bouncing around my head and I want to get it out somewhere. Please let me know if this isn't appropriate here.

Secondly, teachers or those in training to become one: I want to hear your thoughts on this question.

Why am I becoming a teacher?

I've been finding that I'm asking this question of myself a lot lately. My goal is and always has been the same for years: I want to teach, I feel good teaching, I feel I have a purpose and that purpose has been what's driven me forward when I wanted to give up. Truly though - why do I want to be a teacher?

I could do the same style of work in other settings. I could become a tutor, self-employed or otherwise, and assist students in a specific capacity. I could be a YouTuber, creating video essays on self-researched subjects of passion. I could be a writer, bringing the same content through literature to a wholly different audience. In all of these, there is the potential to make more money, reach a wider audience, and leave a more indelible impact upon the world.

So, why am I becoming a teacher?

15 years ago, I dropped out of college, suffering depression. I wasn't the only one depressed; aside from the millions of others reeling from mental health issues, the economy was entering a recession in 2008. I was a NEET - jobless, out of school, and seemingly stuck. My family (read: my dad, stepmom, and sisters) had abandoned me - they had other matters to worry about than their wayward son - and I was fortunate my mother whom I'd dissociated from years before reached out to me. With her help, I got back on my feet, moved across the country, and began looking for work with slight hope. I volunteered one day to read at the school she worked at, and the teacher in the room went to the admins and demanded I be hired on the spot. I was.

Thus began a journey of discovery. I was good at something, and I felt good about doing it. I felt something to replace my depression and self doubt: worthiness.

Over the years, I honed my craft and continued sporadically attending school - when I could afford it - in order to become able to lead my own classroom in our private school/daycare. That was 7 years ago, and I've been teaching prek (4-5 year olds) since then. I'm able to teach reading, writing, mathematics, chess, life lessons, history, biology, astronomy, geology, entomology... the list goes on and on. I have a passion for learning, and for sharing that learning.

Is that why I am becoming a teacher?

The biggest obstacle to achieving my ultimate dream - teaching in public schools - was always the degree. I had dropped out of college twice - in 2008 and again in 2013 - before finally completing an Associates degree in 2016. I felt that, financially, getting my bachelor's would never happen. Massive student loan debt (private debt north of $30k) and low wages in childcare meant I wasn't getting anywhere. Life changes though, and the stars aligned - the private debt was written off, I got out of defaulting on my federal loans, and just in time to qualify for a state program to get me in school again and have a full ride scholarship. It was happening!

Now we live in a post-pandemic world... Do I still want to become a teacher?

At first, attitudes were siding with teachers. There was sympathy for their struggles and worries, the low pay and high barrier to entry. That quickly changed, as it did for medical workers and others in the pandemic world. Teachers struggle more now than they have before. Fewer resources, more troubled students that desperately need help, more resistance from parents and communities trying to prove that teachers and schools aren't necessary in the way they have been, and more burnout and shortages across the nation.

I see all this and yet I press on. Why?

The thing is, I'm not sure. My resolve is strong and I've been persistent and diligent in my schooling. I've worked too long and hard to give up this opportunity. Why do I still want to teach, though? Why not find an administrative job with potentially more pay and better work environment? Why not leave education altogether and use my skills elsewhere?

It comes back to what drove me forward in the first place: purpose. I feel in direct connection with the future by doing what I do. I feel like in some miniscule, imperceptible, but meaningful way, I can help create a better world tomorrow by doing what I do today. It gives my life meaning, and nobody and nothing can take that from me. I've changed hundreds, potentially thousands, of lives already. Students return years later to tell how much I meant to them - these are students I had known at ages 4 and 5 who still remember me a decade later!

So, why am I becoming a teacher?

Because someone has to do it, and that someone might as well be me. I enjoy my work, I enjoy the ups and downs, I enjoy the struggles and challenges and overcoming them, I enjoy making difficult topics understandable to young minds, I enjoy what I do even when I hate it. To me, that's love.

With good luck and a positive outlook, I'll be graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education next September. It may not be prestigious, it may not make me a lot of money, but it will allow me to continue on the path I've set myself. Thanks for reading.

• What’s a mistake you’ve made recently?
• How and when did you realize you made it?
• What were the consequences of it?

The question is open to big serious mistakes and little silly ones alike. That said, please meet shares mistakes with kindness and compassion rather than judgment.

We are all imperfect humans, and mistakes are often how we learn. Let’s all learn together here.

One time I asked someone what they thought about the phrase "people are temporary" and it ended with them telling me:

I don't like saying goodbye to people because I don't know if it's going to be the last time.

That just stuck with me and really got me thinking how precious our time is.

In an effort to make life feel a little more joyful, I added a new calendar to my calendar app called "Nice things". In this calendar, I'm putting all sorts of nice upcoming things to look forward to (album/movie/game releases, the start of Fall, when my preorders will ship, upcoming eclipses and equinoxes and full moons, you name it). My goal is to feel more connected with the passage of time, rather than letting each day blur into the next. I want things to anchor and ground me each day.

Along the same lines, I'm curious: What are you looking forward to? What things on the horizon have you excited for the future? What would you put on a hypothetical "nice things" calendar?

Following yesterday's question about showering, I was really interested in how often everyone brushes their teeth. I know dentists recommend 1-3 times a day, with once being like "you'll be fine if you do it properly," and thrice being like "yo, don't brush too hard because you can damage your enamel," but I also know a lot of people do it more than three times a day and I suspect a lot of people do it less than once a day...

I try to do it twice a day...sometimes I miss my evening brushing because one of our cats sleeps in the bathroom so that she has her own space and if the dog (who wants to eat the cats) is already in the bedroom, sometimes I don't feel like escorting him out first. Not great, but at least I'll get it in the morning. And I do sometimes forget in the morning on weekends, but I try to do it as soon as I realize that I've forgotten, and I try to make sure I don't skip nighttime brushing if I forgot to brush in the morning.

I'm interested to know how often people shower or bathe - but I'd also be interested on your thoughts about other people's frequency. Do you feel strongly about how often one should be cleaning themselves, and what factors go into this? I would certainly hope it's reasonably frequent for warm-climate athletes, for example.

We all have something that makes us stand out. Sometimes it’s seen by others as a good thing; sometimes it’s not. Sometimes we love it ourselves; sometimes we don’t.

Tell me the story of when you discovered a meaningful difference about yourself.

(Any difference works here: major stuff, minor stuff, identities, abilities, preferences, etc.)

Also, I hope it should go without saying, but please make the comments an inclusive and supportive space.

Apologies for the wordy title. Generally speaking, I do not hesitate to ask for things - needs, wants, help - especially in a professional context.

I realize though that most people are not like me, and I think it would come across as a bit narcissistic if I started asking my acquaintances and friends about their perception of me. It's a bit of a self-serving question even here, but oh well.

In any case, I turn to you: what is your honest opinion about people that ask for what they want? Do you have a positive or negative perception of them? Or maybe you can share some interesting anecdotes.

I was thinking about this today as I heard about Instacart going public. I've never used Instacart because I refuse to pay the cost for the convenience of grocery delivery. I've paid for grocery delivery in other ways but instacart feels too much.
I've stopped paying for doordash, which I had never been big on, but the fees got too high

I have and will however pay for a cleaner to come clean my apartment every 3 weeks. I will also splurge on a car wash, as driving through an automatic wash with a fountain soda is a weird happy place for me.

What are your "absolutely will" spends and what are your "no way in hell" spends?

For context, this was neither in the US nor Europe. This is not my first language and some terms are direct translations since I am not aware of actual usage.

I'm coming from an intense experience: my first son is born. In the days before that, I cared for my pregnant wife during the passing of her mother, who spent 3 months in the hospital fighting multiple conditions, chiefly neurological.

Two days after the burial, we went to the hospital for several exams. My wife was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, a potentially dangerous pregnancy complication characterized by high blood pressure.

We spent almost a week in the hospital. My wife did not want a c-section, so our doctor employed multiple methods to induce labor over the course of several days.

There are no men in the maternity ward. Men do not sweep floors, do not take calls, or take any position of care.

I did not see any men in the hallway, although I assumed there were some hidden in the bedrooms.

When the nurses entered the room, they did not look at me. I was not a father, but rather a "companion" whatever you would use in English for someone who is just kind of there. When they had instructions pertaining to the care of my wife and son, they never addressed me. They only addressed me in matters lacking importance, like "Get me a towel", or "Is there any cotton left?".

The tone and body language were of contempt and distrust.

When my wife was soon to go into labor, I decided to go to the bathroom, since I expected to be locked in a room for many hours. When I left the bathroom (which was in the same room where she was), my wife was not there. She was gone. I looked for information and realized she was in the delivery room.

When I was in the bathroom, someone asked me to get something for the doula (a woman), but didn't tell me why. I did. You see, they had time to request me to get something for the doula, but couldn't use the same time to warn me that my wife was being taken to another floor.

That was incredibly traumatizing.

At every step, the message was very clear: "You are not welcome here". "You are not qualified to care for your wife and son". "You are man, and, therefore, a menace to this environment".

Well, fuck them. I was there for my wife since day one. In every contraction, every second she needed me, I was there.

I was the first person to touch my son when he left the womb.

We had to revolt to leave that place as soon as we could. Our personal pediatrician had to intervene because apparently, the maternity ward didn't really trust my wife either -- they just pretended. The kid was slightly underweight. I was convinced that the long stay at the hospital was the main factor impacting breastfeeding. My wife needed to mourn the loss of her mother and required some sense of normality and routine (we are so incredibly happy in our day-to-day, I was confident she would improve!). Turns out that I (and our doctor) were right. We're home now, and the kid's gaining weight again.

At every step of this process, I was invited not to care. "Get out, father, you are not needed here." "That is not a job for men, let the women do it for you".

Earlier today, a neighbor came asking "Are the girls helping you out?". I gotta be honest, I snapped. "No", I said. "This kid has a father". "Oh, but the feminine touch is special!". "It is not", I answered.

Well, fuck them, because I do care for my son, and I will continue to do so. I fully acknowledge and respect the special connection a mother has with their kids. I cannot bear a child, and I lack the ability to produce milk. Other than that, there are no tasks my wife can do that I cannot do as well.

I am not an angry person. Thinking about this makes me very angry and I hate that feeling. I feel a long-lasting trauma is forming. I'm pretty shook-up.

I love my son, I guess that ultimately that is all that matters.

I'm just glad I'm now home, and that I am no longer the only man in a place that considered me a foreign body, trying to eject me at every chance.

The original title I conceived of for this was “How are you your own hypocrite?” but I didn’t like that it came across as negative and judgmental. Nevertheless, you can use that as a jumping off point for what I’m trying to get at.

I think we all have ideals and beliefs and values that we simultaneously hold but also fail to meet on a regular basis. I also think these can be hard to identify. We all like to think that we’re consistent individuals and, when something is out of alignment, we often find very good reasons or explanations for why that is. Sometimes those can be valid, but sometimes they’re really just motivated reasoning aimed at keeping a sense of internal consistency in ourselves.

I’m interested in people exploring the inconsistent areas of themselves (it’s been something I’ve been thinking a lot about lately), but I think to do that this topic needs to be a space where people can be open, honest, and vulnerable.

Please do not jump on someone for the inconsistencies they share or for their failure to meet certain standards. Please do not use this as an opportunity to get in arguments with others.

The whole point of the thread is to explore difficult areas rather than judge them. If people feel that they will have to be pressured to defend themselves in doing so, they simply won’t comment and the whole thought experiment will be for moot. Think of this as a shared space for thoughtful self-reflection and commiseration rather than a battleground.